Grandad Williamson on the stage in Cork

Down in the Cabbage Market, where the Porter was a little better than anywhere else in Cork, I was discussing with an Irish lad the rows we had on the bridge and he said. “It is not you as men we hate, it is the uniform you wear”.  I replied “Come off it, what about the boys of Wexford, anyway ‘tis we as men who have to take the knocks”, and  sure it was so, for on leaving the pub where we had been talking I was laid out with a blow I never saw coming.

One special row we had was on the occasion of Queen Victoria’s Diamond Jubilee.  To celebrate this the Garrison Sports Committee organised a fete and gala on the garrison sports ground which was adjacent to, but on the outside of the garrison boundaries.  The sports had finished and our band was playing for dancing; something happened, I think it was in the pause between dancing.  The big drummer had laid his drum on the ground and an Irish boy had jumped on it.  The drummer gave him a clout with his drumstick and the riot was on.  A picquet of fifty men had been warned to stay in barracks to meet a situation like this and this picquet was turned out at speed but a warning of its coming had reached the Irish for when the picquet reached the ground the breakers had broken and cleared off.

When good theatre companies came to Cork they often employed soldiers as supers.  In those days you had drawn a good week’s pay if you had drawn three and sixpence, so a shilling the theatre companies paid for a performance was a good supplement.  I had the good fortune to be picked for several, in fact each time soldiers were asked for.  I remember one play in which I was employed “The Sign of the Cross” we were paid immediately after the Saturday matinee, well, that was asking for trouble.  Several of the lads got drunk.  One was the front end carrier of the Sedan Chair carrying “Caesar’s Wife” on to the stage in one of the scenes; he dropped his end and spilt the woman out; another in the same scene stood guard behind “Caesar” with his knees bobbling and the spear point downwards – he made Caesar’s raving seem comical.  After that we were never paid until the last performance.  In that particular play I was one of the Christians and we ended up being chewed up by the lions – a fellow backstage banging a chain on the boarded floor, that was the bones cracking.