COL. ANSTRUTHER THOMSON 43 



Our principal drill-sergeant was Sergeant Baird, 

 a little ugly man, with his chin-strap behind his jaw, 

 but very smart and a capital soldier. In teaching 

 sword exercise he desired us to " thrust the pint 

 (point) well home and turrn the sworrd to render 

 the wound incurable ". Cooke was the Adjutant, an 

 Irishman who had risen from the ranks and was a 

 fine specimen of an old soldier. He had been pro- 

 moted over the head of the Regimental Sergeant- 

 Major, named Payne, father of Charles Payne, the 

 Pytchley huntsman. Payne broke his sword in two 

 and placed it on the fire saying his soldiering 

 days were over. This was told me by Charles 

 Payne at Pytchley kennels fifty years after. The 

 Sergeant-Major of the " C " Troop, Doyle, had a 

 very good-looking grey horse which I sometimes 

 rode. One day, when orderly officer, the horse 

 being very fresh clattered about on the stones, and 

 unfortunately Lord Loughborough saw it from the 

 office window and called Captain Williams' attention 

 to it. He selected the four biggest brutes in the 

 troop for my benefit. 



A few months afterwards the Earl of Rosslyn, 

 full Colonel of the regiment, came to inspect us. 

 The field-day took place on Portobello sands. I 

 was his orderly officer, and he rode Sergeant- Major 

 Doyle's grey horse. It had a very bad mouth, and 

 behaved no better with him than it did with me, and 

 his lancer cap got on to the back of his head, and was 

 rather uncomfortable. On returning to barracks he 

 remarked that the horse had a bad mouth. Lord 



