CHAPTER IV

Wimbledon Ranges.

No history of the Corps could be accepted as complete which omitted an account of the Wimbledon Ranges; for it is around them that, with many of us, the pleasantest memories of volunteering life will cling--some of its sweetest triumphs, and also, perhaps, some of its keenest disappointments. _Here_ we have endeavoured to learn, with more or less success, how to bear the pride of victory, as well as the sting of defeat, with that impassive demeanour which is held to become the well-bred Briton.

Then, too, are they not the more interesting because they are, in themselves, _glorious_ ranges? Not, perhaps, with regard to their adaptability to good shooting. They have a fish-tail wind that is trying, and a semaphore that is--worse. But the grand view! Across the wide common, with its gorse, heather, and fern, its quiet dells, its shady copses, and its broad, open, wind-swept plateaux, to the beautiful glades of Richmond Park, and far, far away to the distant Surrey Hills. Then, the pure, bracing breeze, coming as it does just over the top of Leith Hill, straight from the sea, giving more health and vigour in one short afternoon than any doctor’s tonic taken for a month.

Every landmark around has been familiar to us for years, and most are associated with some incident which renders them attractive. Here, for instance, is the spot where we fired our first shot as a recruit. (We have never fired at that ridiculous distance since.) How well do we remember that awful event! How we screwed up our courage to the sticking-point, firmly resolved to “let off” that dread weapon; but in our own mind the immediate future was full of vague uncertainty. With what feelings of utter indifference we received the sergeant’s congratulations that we had hit the target. It had gone off! We were alive and well, and the world moved on as before! There was no room in our mind for anything else.

Well, well! That intense feeling of respect for a loaded rifle very soon wore off. Let us return to the sober facts of history.

The Wimbledon Ranges have been used by the “Civil Service” from the very commencement of the Corps. The Sub-Committee appointed by the Council in 1860 to seek for a Range were not long in discovering Wimbledon. The Ranges were then in the possession of the 11th Surrey Volunteers, who rented them from the Lord of the Manor, Earl Spencer, for the sum of one shilling yearly. They agreed to allow the “Civil Service” to share the shooting accommodation, on the understanding that the latter paid three-fourths of the cost of the erection of the Butts.

One feels compelled to remark that the Regimental authorities have never been very happy in their management of matters connected with these ranges. Affairs were commenced with a lawsuit, brought by the contractor who erected the Butts, and the Corps lost the day.

In 1861 the London Scottish, who had opened adjoining ranges, proposed to build a Shooting House. They invited the “Civil Service” to join them in the undertaking, and to become joint owners. The Council, however, did not consider it advisable to do so, but preferred to pay a yearly rent for a share in the tenancy. In 1864 the Council again refused an offer to become joint owners, and the result has been that the Corps has paid in annual rent considerably more than would have sufficed to build the house, enjoying meanwhile comparatively poor accommodation, and having no voice in its management.

Matters were considerably disturbed in 1871 by the passing of the Wimbledon Commons Act, and by the appointment of Conservators to protect the interests of the Common-holders. The Act went so far as to recognise the established privileges of the Volunteers in using the Ranges, although shooting was henceforth restricted to certain days of the week, and to certain hours of the day. But ever since then the Conservators of the Common, with their restrictions, protests, and objections, have been a thorn in the side of the Regimental Range Committee.

In 1880 a lawsuit was commenced by the tenant of the land bordering the Common near the Range, on the ground that injury was caused by bullets falling on his land. The action was brought against the “Civil Service” only, but had for its object the closing of the whole of the Ranges in this corner of the Common. After being protracted over a period of several years, the action resulted in the closing of the 1st class targets, and the substitution of wooden or canvas targets, instead of iron, at the 2nd class range.

With this concession the Corps may be said to have established its title to the use of the Ranges. The War Office have lately instituted more than one careful inspection, and have decided that they are “safe,” so that it may be hoped that the Corps will continue to enjoy possession for many years to come.

The Flagstaff.

A noteworthy object on the Wimbledon Range is the flagstaff. This is 153 feet high, and has the reputation of being the tallest flagstaff in England of one piece only. It is known as the “Douglas Pine,” and is the product of Vancouver’s Island. It was presented to the London Scottish in 1872 by an old member of the Corps, who had settled on that island and felled it on his own land. The recruit is usually informed that it took two ships to bring it over; the explanation that one ship brought it to Liverpool and the other to London being reserved.

It will be noticed that the little stick in question is protected by a somewhat formidable lightning-conductor, its predecessor having been destroyed by lightning one afternoon whilst shooting was going on at the Range.

We must not quit Wimbledon without a passing comment on the Wimbledon Camp.

Wimbledon Camp.

The “Civil Service” was among the earliest of the Metropolitan Corps which formed its own private camp at the great rifle meeting, and from 1864 to 1885 the dark blue flag with its Prince of Wales’s Feathers was always to be seen flying in its own peculiar corner of the enclosure. This unbroken record of nearly a quarter of a century was not obtained, however, without some trouble. In the early days, when camping out was a novelty, and Wimbledon afforded the only means of enjoying that novelty, there was little difficulty in ensuring a good attendance; but, with the rise of Camps of Instruction and the Aldershot Camps, applications for the Wimbledon tents, with their somewhat heavy fees, began to fall off. For many years it was kept up merely by the efforts of a small band of enthusiasts, to whom the Wimbledon “picnic,” with its jovial round of holiday mirth, had a peculiar charm. The support of the general body of the Corps fell off to such a marked extent that in 1886, four years before the National Rifle Association removed to Bisley, the Camp was discontinued.

Shooting.

To pass from Wimbledon and to remark briefly on the shooting records of the Regiment is an easy digression.

The “Civil Service” has never yet had the good luck to provide the winner of the Queen’s Prize, and this fact is sometimes thrust forward by the thoughtless to detract from its merits as a “good shooting Corps.” A simple computation will show that, with 200,000 Volunteers to shoot for it, a Corps of 600 strong will have done its duty if it wins the prize once in 333 years! But members of the Corps have on more than one occasion run the winner very hard. Lord Bury himself was second for the prize in 1861.

Others who have been within measurable distance are: Private W. A. Impey (Audit Office) in 1869, Lieutenant J. Mitford (Post Office) in 1875, and Sergeant W. W. Akhurst (Post Office) in 1885.

Wimbledon honours have also been earned for the Corps by Sergeant J. P. Wright (Bank of England), winner of the Grand Aggregate in 1874; Captain H. W. E. Jeston (National Debt Office), winner of the N.R.A. Challenge Cup in 1869; and teams who have on various occasions won the Mappin Challenge Cup for running and shooting.

Nor can we in the present year (1891) admit that the shooting of the Corps shows any sign of declining. In the War Office Returns for the last two years it stood first of the Metropolitan Corps, and second in the Home District. The Regimental Team rejoice in an almost unbroken series of victories in the numerous matches it has shot in the same period; whilst Private Rothon, Corporal Matthews, and Corporal Clunan well maintained the credit of the Corps at the first meeting of the National Rifle Association on Bisley Common. In addition to this, in Private Rothon the Corps has the winner of the Champion Badge of Middlesex for 1890, and, having been chosen to shoot in the English “twenty,” he made the highest score in the International Match of 1891.

A few words about Aldershot.

The Aldershot Drills.

The Aldershot Summer Drills appear to have been instituted when the Autumn Manœuvres, held in 1872-3, were discontinued. The “Civil Service” first sent a detachment to Aldershot in 1875, and from that date, with but few exceptions, they have annually sent a Company. This Company has been almost always attached to the Provisional Battalion commanded by Colonel Du Plat Taylor, of the Post Office Volunteers. Of all the efforts taken to instil a military training into the Volunteer none perhaps have had so great an effect as the “Aldershot Week.” The complete change of life experienced by thus suddenly adopting the soldier’s daily routine and hard fare, the living with and fraternising with soldiers, the feeling that you are for the time being actually paid as a soldier, that you are watched by military police lest you should desert, that the Mutiny Act has been read over you, which says that if you disobey your officer you shall be shot--all this is calculated to make the most light-hearted Volunteer feel that he is in earnest at last. He enters into the spirit of the work, enjoys the novelty of the situation--knowing that it won’t last long--and generally comes home, grimy, sunburnt, and, in his own eyes at least, a soldier to the backbone. The stamp it puts on a man is never effaced. To say “he is an Aldershot-man” means that he is entitled to considerable respect as a good Volunteer.

Camps of Instruction.

Aldershot may have been instrumental in giving us a leaven of good soldiers, but nothing has had so great an effect in changing the conditions of our Volunteer life as the Camps of Instruction. As the greater part of Battalion drills are now done in Camp, it is hardly possible for a member, as was the case in old days, to make himself efficient by toddling round the quadrangle at Somerset House; and this change has almost banished from the ranks the individual generally described as the “old-fashioned Volunteer.”

The first Regimental Camp of Instruction was pitched on Wimbledon Common on the 12th May, 1873. It lasted three days only, a longer time being forbidden by the provisions of the Wimbledon Commons Act. The weather was very cold, with occasional snow. The nightly attendance averaged about 100.

In the following year, 1874, Major Currie lent a field at Esher for the purpose. This Camp lasted six days, and was memorable for being the scene of one of those foolish escapades--a night attack, delivered with great spirit by a local corps, and repulsed with equal ardour by the “Civil Service.” In the present day, with increased knowledge of military tactics, Volunteer officers recognise the absurdity of such attacks.

In 1875, the Camp was pitched in a portion of Wimbledon Park known as the Leg of Mutton Field, Southfields. Here also it was located in 1876 and 1877. In the following year, 1878, a very enjoyable Camp was held in Sandown Park, Esher.

1879 will be for ever memorable, to those who took part in it, as the year of the _mud_ Camp, held in a small field, or rather swamp, attached to an empty house near Putney Heath.

Finally, in 1880, was discovered that very acme of positions--a spot suited above all others for an encampment of Metropolitan Volunteers--the Old Deer Park at Richmond.

The Old Deer Park.

Here the Corps has encamped every year since,[3] and, indeed, it would be difficult to find a more advantageous camping-ground. Interesting in its associations as one of the oldest Royal Parks in England, originally attached to Richmond Palace, it gives for drill purposes an extensive area of slightly undulating parkland, ornamented with picturesque groups of trees, among which are some patriarchs so venerable as to make one imagine that they might have looked down upon the grand tournaments held on that spot by the Tudor Kings.

[3] Up till 1898, but not since.

Long may it be before any over-zealous War Office official shall reform the Richmond Camp of Instruction out of existence. Let us hope that for many a future generation the Civil Service Recruit may do his lonely midnight sentry-go, in the quiet seclusion of the Old Deer Park, with no greater peril to encounter than the ghost of a Maid of Honour!