Before the class assembled, however, I had become Brigade-Major in the North Camp, under General Sir Alfred Horsford, by whom I was treated with the greatest kindness. He was handsome, clever, with great knowledge of the world, and had done well in the Indian Mutiny; although he did not know details of the Drill book, he handled troops well, but was not fond of soldiering in peace times. When in the spring of 1867 I asked whether we ought not to exercise the Brigade, prior to Divisional parades, my General replied calmly, “Yes, certainly; a good idea--I quite approve. Carry on, but do not ask me to attend.” He supported me, however, so my work was very pleasant. He was popular in society, having many friends, being especially intimate with Sir John Cope of Bramshill, 10 miles from Aldershot, where he spent a great deal of his time. This of course became known, and gave rise to an amusing incident, of which Sir Alfred, who had a keen sense of humour, himself told me. Approaching the Lieutenant-General, Sir James Yorke Scarlett, Sir Alfred said with much warmth before other General officers, “The Duke told me, Sir James, that you said I was seldom here.” The Lieutenant-General said very calmly, “You have been misinformed, Horsford: what I said was, you were never here.” Sir Alfred believed in a celibate Army, and told numberless stories in support of his views. When in command of a battalion, Rifle Brigade, a soldier came up for permission to marry. “No, certainly not. Why does a young man like you want a wife?” “Oh, please, sir, I have two rings (Good Conduct badges) and £5 in the Savings Bank, so I am eligible, and I want to marry very much.” “Well, go away, and if you come back this day year in the same mind, you shall marry; I’ll keep the vacancy.” On the anniversary the soldier repeated his request. “But do you really after a year want to marry?” “Yes, sir, very much.” “Sergeant-Major, take his name down. Yes, you may marry. I never believed there was so much constancy in man or woman. Right face. Quick march.” As the man left the room, turning his head, he said, “Thank you, sir; it isn’t the same woman.” I invented a knapsack a month or two after I joined, and was told to consult with Dr. Parkes,[98] one of the most advanced Medical officers in the Service. I went down to Southampton where he lived, and he satisfied me that one on which he was then working, arranged to spread the weight over the body, a modification of which was eventually adopted, was better than mine; my principle of the alteration of the pouches, however, was accepted. Previously the pouches were made rectangular, and as no man’s body is exactly flat there was obviously inconvenience in this arrangement, especially as one of the tests of soldiering in those days was to bring the rifle across the body as closely as possible without hitting it, with the result that the edges of the pouches were found to be inconvenient.