Scotland's Volunteer Force
There is a sound of thunder afar, Storm in the South that darkens the day ! Storm of battle and thunder of war ! Well if it do not roll our way. Storm, Storm, Riflemen form ! Ready, be ready against the storm ! Riflemen, Riflemen, Riflemen form ! This was the first verse of an ode by the Poet-Laureate, Tennyson, published in The Times in 1859. Tennyson’s poem was written in a climate of growing unease at the strength of the French forces. Fresh from its victories in the Crimea, the French army was probably the most powerful military force in Europe, and Napoleon III appeared intent on further territorial expansion. Following the end of the earlier Napoleonic Wars British, with military expenditure cut, the regular army had been reduced from 230,000 men to 91,000. As terms of service required men to serve for long periods of 21 years, or resign early without a pension, few left before their term. Thus many of the 91,000 were unsuited or unfit for actual military combat. When the Crimea War against Russia was declared in 1853, the British authorities estimated it required 25,000 men to fight the war, but only able to scrape together a fighting force of 10,000 men, mercenaries from Italy, Switzerland and German states had to be employed to bolster the army’s strength. When war with France looked a possibility, concern at the low number of fit soldiers reintroduced the idea of a Volunteer Army, and a number of Albany Street residents became members. These included John Baird (Number 20), George Whigham (Number 23), John Boyd (Number 34), George Ross (Number 35), William Kenmore (Number 46) and John Watson Gordon (Number 52).
The idea of Volunteer units had an earlier history. At the end of the 18th century, when Britain went to war with France, a number of Scottish landowners petitioned the King to raise army regiments called Fencibles; seven were initially created with others being raised later. The Fencible regiments were disbanded in 1797 when the Government created a Scottish Militia of six thousand men. Those required to join the militia were chosen by ballot, although others could volunteer if wished, and the service was for five years. There was much disquiet about the Act and a wide range of exemptions was instituted including seamen, church ministers, professors, schoolmasters, and poor men with more than two children. The other form of exemption was by payment of £10, later £20, and the upper and middle classes usually paid to avoid service. The Lucky Lottery Office in Edinburgh offered for one guinea per annum: ‘to relieve you from the effects of all ballots that may take place for the Ordinary Militia of Scotland, either by finding a substitute or paying the penalty of fifteen pounds.’ Thus a very high proportion of the militia were substitutes – poor men who were paid to be substitutes and needed the bounty and the small army wage.
There was no problem in attracting officers as a commission in the army or navy brought status and was seen as an appropriate career for sons of ‘gentlemen’. To join individuals had to pay a significant sum to a retiring officer. This purchase of commissions was a common practice as it was designed to preserve the social exclusivity of the officer class; ensure that the officer class was largely populated by persons having a vested interest in maintaining the status quo, thereby reducing the possibility of Army units taking part in a revolution or coup; ensure that officers had private means and were unlikely to engage in looting or pillaging, or to cheat the soldiers under their command by engaging in profiteering using army supplies; and provide honourably retired officers with an immediate source of capital. The practice was abolished in 1871.
Unlike the unpopular militia, the idea of volunteer regiments was swiftly embraced throughout the country. ‘Gentlemen are respectfully invited to enrol in this company without delay. Each member will provide his own uniform, which will not exceed in price that of the Rifle Corps, but that will be the only expense he will occur [weapons were supplied by the War Office].’ Within a year a variety of groups in Edinburgh established their own units, including Advocates, Writers to the Signet, Edinburgh University, Solicitors before the Supreme Court, Accountants, Bankers, Civil Service, Freemasons (short-lived), Total Abstainers, Highland Society, merchants and four artisan groups. George Ross (Number 35), an insurance agent, was an early Volunteer. In other parts of the country volunteer regiments were formed by local authorities, country gentlemen selecting from among their tenants and by factory owners from their employees. While the units drawn from the professional classes paid for their own uniforms and equipment, units drawn from the trades paid a contribution of 30 shillings in instalments, with the rest of the cost of their uniforms and equipment being paid by public subscription or their employers. Initially officers were elected by the members of each unit and appointments were frequently keenly canvassed. In many cases those set up the unit simply nominated themselves or their sons. Thus many of those in charge had no real understanding of military affairs, and discipline was often lax. A number saw the regiment as a recreational affair and joined because they fancied the military title, the dressing up and the military pomp. In 1860 twelve officers from the 1st Aberdeenshire Rifle Volunteers attended a reception held by Queen Victoria at St. James's Palace where they came in or special comment: ‘Meanwhile the officers draw up momentarily in line before Her Majesty, bow, and retire. Amongst them is a remarkable group, whose singular appearance renders it difficult even for the Queen herself to maintain her wonted gravity. The officers in question had thought proper to clothe themselves in loose sky-blue blouses, with buff waist-belts, and round flat-brimmed "wide-awakes" [a hat with a low crown and very wide brim]. The ensemble, well enough for a French encampment, was ludicrous in the extreme, when suggested as a military costume. Some half-dozen other officers - for reasons which did not transpire - had, in addition to their swords, Colt revolvers attached to their belts, and a sprinkling of knickerbockers, with their concomitant high-lows, elicited very few commendable observations.’
Stricter controls on uniforms were introduced but ‘had the effect of preventing experiments made by company commanders whose patriotism was bounded by their love of a picturesque uniform’, and many men simply ceased to turn up or resigned. There were other problems: ‘The attendances at drills and parades were not, by any means, so good as they should have been; officers showed great laxity in their duties — did not, indeed, appear to take them seriously, and all this occasioned a great deal of unnecessary trouble to the commander; but, above all, the enthusiasm for shooting had not kept pace with the growth of the battalion, and something was obviously wanting to urge and encourage the men to practice with the rifle.’ Yet for some, the appeal was the regular shooting competitions. In July 1878 the competition took place in Hunter’s Bog: ‘The day was fine and very warm, but the light was bad. About 300 volunteers entered for the competition and the prizes were 98 in number, the total amounting to £160.’
Another attraction was the social aspect: ‘Mr William Howard’s Saturday Evening Popular Concerts this Saturday will be under the patronage of the Officers and Members of the Edinburgh Rifle Volunteers’; ‘The First Scottish Volunteer Ball will take place in the Assembly Rooms on Thursday January 17th’; ‘Just published: The Scottish Thistle Quadrilles by Alexander Lowe, Professor of Dancing and The Edinburgh Rifle Volunteers Gallop – a spirited and characteristic composition.’ (John Kay's 'Military Promenade' pokes fun at the volunteers, including their wives in their own uniforms)The majority of units were Riflemen, but there also were a few Artillery Units. In these, the volunteers had to learn “how to work a great gun mounted in their immediate neighbourhood.” For some unfathomable reason the first unit of the Edinburgh City Artillery Volunteers mainly consisted of artists, including the portrait painter, John Watson Gordon (Number 52), with the unit’s first commander Joseph Noel Paton, whose painting, The Quarrel of Oberon and Titania, hangs in the National Gallery of Scotland. Major-General Grierson’s book, Record of the the Scottish Volunteer Force includes an account of the early days of the Edinburgh units by Colonel Sir J. Macdonald that brims with enthusiasm. ‘In 1859 everything was novel, unorganised, and ill-provided. But what a life was in it! The volunteer of that day had no thought of minimum in his drills. Many went regularly to two and even three drills a-day. I have myself drilled at seven in the morning with the Writers to the Signet, in the forenoon in the Parliament House, and in the afternoon out of doors with the Advocates, and in the Queen's Park in the evening with an artisan company. We went to the targets in all weathers. ... No doubt much of our zeal was of the "zeal without knowledge" kind, but it made up for that by being really hot. We did as many drills before any arms were served out to us as a volunteer of to-day does in his whole training. My roll-book when I commanded a company showed many volunteers attending ninety drills in one season, and very few fell below fifty. And how and where did we drill? In Exchange Squares and Meadow Walks, by the light of the rat's-tail gas-burners of those days, when weather permitted, in small steaming rooms below the Council Chambers when driven in by rain or snow. Night after night, through the long winter and into spring, we laboured. Each company had drill instructors in their pay, but we who had artisan companies had to do all our own drilling, getting our musketry certificates by judging distance in two inches of snow in the Meadows, and firing our course when one was glad to warm one's fingers between shots on the heated barrels of our muzzle-loaders, which, after the fouling of a few rounds, kicked us unmercifully. I know now that much we had to do was antiquated and inadequate to modern war conditions, but we did it heartily, with a real enthusiasm. As in Edinburgh, so it was throughout the country, and never in the course of Scottish history was the old warlike spirit of the nation more thoroughly aroused than in 1859.’