AN ENGLISH OFFICER.

Ashburton Guardian, Volume IV, Issue 959, 2 June 1883, Page 2

AN ENGLISH OFFICER.

(Timaru Herald.)

The death of a military man who was more notorious than famous, is recorded in the papers by the mail. Lieutenant Carey, the officer who was with the Prince Imperial on that fatal reconnaissance in Zululandy has just died in the Punjaub in India. It will no doubt be remembered that when the Prince Imperial and his party were surprised by the enemy, they took to their horses and sought safety in flight. The Prince, however, having a restive horse, could not mount quickly, and there seems to be no doubt that he was overtaken by the enemy and transfixed with assegais, while vainly endeavoring to get his foot in the stirrup and reach the saddle. In the meantime Lieutenant Carey had taken care of himself, and ridden of as hard as he could pelt, in the belief, as he stated, that the Prince was coming on behind him. When he looked back and found that he was alone, he did not return or make any effort to save the unfortunate Prince, but made the best of his way to the camp and reported what had taken place. Subsequent enquiries led to the conclusion that the Zulus who surprised the party were not in any strength, but that, if Lieutenant Carey had stood by the Prince and they had both shown fight, the enemy would probably have been beaten off. In any case, it was clear that if the Prince had had assistance with his horse, or had been covered for a few seconds by Lieutenant Carey’s fire, his chance of escape would have been greatly increased. Finally, it was held by military men, and by most civilians too, that at all hazards Lieutenant Carey ought to have remained with the Prince, and shared his danger, whatever it might be. The Court Martial, nevertheless, acquitted Carey on technical grounds, and he was allowed to return to his duty. But the Duke of Cambridge is well known to have expressed it as his opinion, :n his own graceful way, that Lieutenant Carey was “ a d d coward,” and that he ought to resign his commission and leave the army. That episode always reminded us of a scene that took place in the early part of the century, and which is recorded somewhere in the Memoirs of the Duke of York! George the Third, with the view of putting down the practice of duelling, then very common, issued an order that any officer either giving or accepting a challenge, should immediately be cashiered. Shortly afterwards a captain in the Life Guards became involved in some quarrel, and his antagonist, a man well known in society, challenged him as a matter of course. The captain, who was as brave a man as ever steps, declined to go out, and referred his challenger to the King’s order. The next day the walls of the Life Guards’ barracks at Knightsbridge were posted with huge placards bearing the words, “ Captain -■ is a coward.” George the Third, riding through the park as usual, saw these bills, and forgetting all about his order, cried out, “ What, what, what, what ! A captain in my Guards a coward ! Who is he ? Who is he ? What has he done ?” What has he done ?” The circumstances were at once communicated to him, and he decided to place the matter in the hands of the Duke of York, who then held the office which his nephew the Duke of Cambridge holds now. The Coniman-der-in-Chief sent for the Captain, and told him he must leave the army. “ Leave the army,” exclaimed the astonished officer, “ merely for obeying orders ! Why, what am I to do, if I leave the army?” “Turn dancing master, arid be d dto you!” was his Royal Highness’s reply. Lieutenant Carey came off rather better than the guardsman. He not only held his own in the army, even in the teeth of the Commander-in-Chief’s avowed hostility, but he got employment on active service, and he was doing his duty with his regiment when he died. The ultimate verdict upon his conduct in that miserable affair of the Prince imperial, we fancy, is that it was about the worst piece of luck that could possibly have happened to any officer to be the companion of so distinguished a non-combatant, and that the mere fact of his having escaped while the Prince was killed, is no proof whatever that he would not have done his duty excellently under less embarrassing, even if more trying, conditions.