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Updated: May 26, 2025
Those who came later carried drums and bagpipes of the regulation kind. At five minutes to five the bandmaster made his appearance, and the band lined up while they tuned their chanters. Sharp at five o'clock, with a punctuality that was remarkable, the band stepped out across the square to the tune of "The Cock of the North," played in perfect time and tune.
"If either of you come to practice again with so much as a scratch on your two ugly little faces," thundered the Bandmaster, "I'll tell the Drum-Major to take the skin off your backs. Understand that, you young devils."
"It really looks," said the bandmaster, "as though we might fight, after all." "You, too?" "Perhaps." "Then could you come into the house just a moment? My sister asked me to find you." A bright blush crept over the bandmaster's sun-tanned cheeks. "With pleasure," he said, dismounting, and leading his horse through the gateway and across the shrubbery to the trees. "Celia!
The bandsmen, who had been standing in a group among the mourners, keeping their instruments under their coats, so that they might not get cold, suddenly broke out into music, at a mysterious sign from the bandmaster. The effect was striking.
Far down the road horsemen were galloping in the returning pickets. "Forward!" They were moving. "Steady right dress!" taken up in turn by the company officers "steady right dress!" The bandmaster swung his sabre forward; the mounted band followed.
Being musical, I took a great interest in our band, which by this time had become a fairly good one. Our bandmaster, Mr. John Holt, was transferred from the Stafford Militia and was a most genial and courteous gentleman. Our band-sergeant was Charles Fitzpatrick, son of the sergeant-major of the South Devon Militia, and, like the master, he was a fine fellow.
From the stables and the ball field came the sound of hurrying feet, and a tumult of cheers and cowboy yells. Across the parade-ground the regimental band bore down upon Ranson's hut, proclaiming to the garrison that there would be a hot time in the old town that night. But Sergeant Clancey ran to meet the bandmaster, and shouted in his ear. "He's going to marry Mary Cahill," he cried.
The bandmaster marshalled his music at the head of the column of occupation which was to march into Louisburg. The game had been admirably played. The victory was complete. There was no need to occupy the trenches, for those who lay in them or near them would never rally for another battle. The troops fell back behind the wood through which they had advanced on the preceding day.
Did the schoolmaster become acquainted with this breach of discipline? No; or I am afraid he would not have given me such a testimonial as I now hold in my possession. At this juncture I became a member of the drum and fife band, under the supervision of the Millbrook Band of Hope Committee. Never shall I forget our bandmaster. He was a strict disciplinarian.
"That may go for a good deal in the regiment," Wilson retorted, "but I doubt if there are many women that know the difference between an adjutant and a quartermaster. They know about colonels, majors, captains, and even subalterns; but if you were to say that you were an adjutant they would be simply mystified, though they might understand if you said bandmaster.
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