Edward Knight's Family

Cecil Rice. [3]
Portrait of Cecil Rice.

'At nine years old my father was sent to join his brother Augustus at a preparatory school for the Army, St. Paul's, Shooter's Hill. In July 1846 he entered the Royal Military Academy, Sandhurst – passing out in November 1848. On passing out he was awarded an extra Certificate and the Sword presented each year to the Cadet selected 'for general good conduct and progress in study' – but unfortunately in my father's year the Sword, for some reason, was not forthcoming and he was presented instead with four volumes of Milton's poems!

In January 1849 he was gazetted to the 80th Foot, but he never joined the Regiment – being later transferred to the 72nd Foot. On joining he was given six months leave 'in which to grow'. My father was in danger of never seeing the Crimea for when his regiment left Limerick for Malta, en route for Russia, in April 1855, he was left behind as one of the four junior Captains in charge of the Dépôt at Limerick. However fortune favoured him, and he was sent out with a draft of 200 men in a hired transport from Dublin, the 'Assistance'. They landed at the end of the month at Balaclava and marched to the front, to join the First Division under the commander of Sir Colin Campbell.

My father served in the trenches until August, when the Highland Brigade was sent to Kamara to support the Sardinians after the Battle of Cheenazo[?]. 'Kamara' he said, 'was a most agreeable change from the front, where all was dirt and filth; to new fresh ground in the woods, and clean fresh water.' The Brigade was under arms every morning before daylight, but no fresh attack was made by the enemy.

Soon the Brigade was ordered back to the trenches, to take part in a general bombardment of Sebastopol on September 5th, the city falling three days later.

On the night of the 5th, my father was sent to the bomb-proof tent of Sir Colin Campbell, to ask permission to search for the body of a cousin, killed in an attack made by the Light Division earlier in the day. 'Very well, Rice,' said the General, 'you may go if you take the risk.' Then, as he was leaving the tent, he called him back and said, 'Rice, I have an idea that the Russians have evacuated Sebastopol. Would you like to go and see?

In my father's words, – 'Yes sir,' I said, though I didn't really like it at all, it was a gruesome job! 'Very well,' Sir Collin said, 'take twenty men with you, ten from the 72nd and ten from the 93rd. My father said afterwards, 'I have always wondered, and I wondered then, why he told me to take twenty men. I thought to myself, if I take them with me, the Russians will think it an attack and kill us all. If I go alone and say 'I have come to see if you are still here,' they will only send me to Moscow and that would be better than being bayonetted. So, after I had chosen the twenty men, I told them what I was going to do – but ordered them to stay below and look after the wounded.

It was a gruesome sight. The ditch was full of dead men: I turned one or two of them over, thinking I might find Maxy Hammond – but it is very difficult to recognise a dead man like that in the dark. So then I went on, as I thought alone, and crawled slowly up the side of the Redan, through the scrub. But when I was nearly at the top, I heard a voice say, 'Would none of them come with you, Sir? I am not going to let you go alone.' And there was one of the 93rd. I think his name was McGiven.

When we got Sebastopol we found the place deserted, as the General had thought. So I scratched McGiven's name on one of the guns and said to him, 'There, you are the first man had to have entered Sebastopol.' (Exactly like my father, to think of his companion, and not of himself.)

Then we returned, and I went to the General's tent and reported that the Russians have evacuated. 'Very well', he said, now you can take two hundred men and occupy it.' 'And supposing it's mined Sir, like all the other parts?' said I. 'Ah,' he said, You are quite right. Don't go. We'll wait till the morning.' And sure enough, a little later, the place blew up.'

A few days after the fall of Sebastopol, Sir Colin sent for my father and said, 'I have mentioned you favourably in my despatches and I hope it will be of use to you.' He also heard from the War Office that he was the only Regimental officer Sir Colin mentioned – but Sir Colin at that time was not popular with the Authorities at home, and his despatch was never published or alluded to. On the contrary, he was passed over for the Command of the Army in the Crimea – which was given to General Codrington.

The honour which should have been my father's was given later to an officer of the 93rd. 'For having been the first man to examine the Redan on the night of the 5th of September, 1855.'

There was not much rest for the 72nd between the Crimean War and the Indian Mutiny – they returned to England in the Spring of 1857, and in September they were ordered out to India. This was late in the Mutiny and the worst horrors of the rebellion were over, the Regiment saw nothing of them, but heard terrible stories of what had taken place.

My father kept a diary all through his time in India, but never mentioned the fact to his family. One day, in his old age, he spent a morning making a bonfire of the volumes – and was astonished at the outcry when he said what he had been doing. However, his youngest daughter persuaded him to let her take down some account of the Regiment in India, here given –

'The 72nd sailed for Bombay in a troopship from Portsmouth, in September 1857; landed at Bombay in December and marched at once upcountry to join General Roberts' Field Force, which we did at Nusserabad and went on with him to take Kotah, in the North of Rajpootana. We bombarded Kotah from our side of the Chumbal river for a week and then crossed over in flats; the Engineers blew in the large gates of the city and we got into the town, my company leading the assault. The enemy did not make the resistance that was expected, most of them ran away at once; and we took the town with no difficulty at all. A few of our men were killed, and some of other Regiments. Lieutenant Cameron of the 72nd got a V.C. for a taking a house occupied by rebels, and losing some fingers of his right hand from a sword cut. The Colonel of my Regiment was made a Brigadier General and given a 'flying' field force with the purpose of pursuing Tantia Topee and Maim Singh – we marched for months after them all over the country, into Bengal and Madras Residencies, and crossed five of the largest rivers in India. And at last made a march described by Sir Richard Shakespeare as 'unparalleled in the annals of war', which was nonsense – but we marched for ten successive nights, thirty-two miles a night, having but little time to sleep by day; and at last ran into Tantia's camp at Choda-oodeypore at daylight on the eleventh morning – but owing to the folly of the officer commanding the advance guard, Tantia got away and we lost him and all the Gwalior jewels, which he had on an elephant. I was Staff Officer to the Brigadier, and for this very lazy campaign was promoted to Major 'for distinguished service in the field.'

The Regiment returned home in 1865, and in 1870 Lieut-Colonel Rice retired; having served with the 72nd for 22 years, and commanded it for two years, during the illness of the Colonel.
He was awarded to the Crimean War medal with bar, the Turkish medal for the Crimea – and the Indian Mutiny medal with bar.

He married, first, in Edinburgh, on December 5th 1866, Frances Ann, only daughter of Mark Napier, Sheriff of Dumfries – a beautiful girl of eighteen.

Eighteen years later, his wife, who was born on June 12th 1848, died, on July 5th 1884 – leaving him with nine children between the ages of sixteen and four years old.

Colonel Rice married, secondly, on September 22nd 1886, Lady Matilda Horatia Seymour, the sister of the 5th Marquess of Hertford. She died, aged eighty-six, on March 11th 1916.

Colonel Rice died, also aged eighty-six, at Kingscote House, East Grinstead on May 6th 1917. (Epitaph page 247).

'My father was very tall, and all his life had a wonderful figure and carriage. 'A notable figure, his upright soldierly bearing and commanding stature making him conspicuous in any assembly' – so it was written of him at the age of eighty. Until that age he had possessed excellent health but a sudden stroke in 1911 rendered him an invalid for the remaining years of his life.

Like many others of his brothers, he was very good-looking, with the rare attraction, difficult to define, that the Rice brothers all possessed. My father had this to a marked degree, but was entirely unconscious of the fact. He was by nature happy, enjoying his neighbours' society, courteous, friendly, modest and unassuming – and always interested in others rather than himself.

A few sentences from letters received by his family at his death may help to show how it was that he was so much respected, as well as loved – 'He was to me the ideal of an English gentleman. So courteous, so kind, so true and warm in his friendship.' 'So strong yet so gentle, so kind to all around him, so patient and enduring in trials manifold. So happy in his home, and a devoted to you all.' 'My dear Master, I always held him as a noble example of a beautiful Christian life, just and kind in his every action.'

Finally, the verdict of his niece, Lady Templetown – 'Uncle Cecil – the truest Christian and very fine gentleman I ever knew, as loyal and kind as he was handsome and charming.'
– His daughter, Miss Marcia Rice.
Cecil Rice

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