The Yeomanry Cavalry and the Reconstitution of the Territorial Army

I. Introduction

The Territorial Force was being disembodied just months after the signing of the armistice in 1918. This, however, was a short-lived hiatus, as the War Office very quickly faced the conundrum of rebuilding it. The force as a whole did not naturally fit into post-war planning, as the General Staff and War Office neither expected invasion nor considered the force suited to garrison work in the newly expanded empire. The 10-year rule of August 1919 settled on the avoidance of major conflict for the immediate future and, by the mid 1920s, the Committee of Imperial Defence would accept conscription as a central tenet to the manpower question presented by large wars. The role of the Territorials was, then, unclear: neither trusted as a second line in a large-scale conflict, nor suitable for assisting the regular army in its post-war work. Nonetheless, as Beckett and Dennis have shown, thanks to powerful political interests and the determination of its membership, the now Territorial Army survived both the hostility of the military authorities and the penny-pinching of the Geddes Axe; this victory, however, did come at a price. ¹

Among the most pressing concerns for the War Office during these debates was the Territorial Army’s cavalry contingent – the Yeomanry – and what role it should play in the movement. The force’s experience of war and the casual observer’s understanding of the cavalry’s contribution threw this question into sharp relief. Despite its holding a seemingly logical position as the divisional cavalry and mounted brigades of Haldane’s pre-war Territorial Force, the War Office had in fact faced a similar conundrum during the war itself. After a stalled start, the Yeomanry had made a substantial contribution to the conflict, providing nearly 90,000 men for the war effort; nonetheless, half of them had not served mounted and the authorities had vacillated until March 1917 over their reorganization as infantry. As the war moved ever more convincingly in the direction of attrition, the demand for manpower went on increasing; the burden of attrition, however, was carried by the infantry and artillery. Searching questions were predictably asked of both the regular and Yeomanry cavalry after the war, questions that were hotly countered by both arms. This study documents how a combination of clumsy policy decisions, changes in political office, and a notoriously influential lobby allowed the Yeomanry to have some influence over its post-war fate; for the most part, however, this process involved more negotiation and compromise than dogged conservatism. More significantly still, it shows how the Yeomanry’s post-war sparring with the military and political authorities played an essential role in demonstrating the continuing commitment and strength of feeling within the entire amateur military movement.

II. The Yeomanry in Context

From its very beginnings, the story of the Yeomanry Cavalry was one of highs and lows. Formed during a crisis in 1794, its size and efficiency went on to be governed by emergencies. It was the state of the country in the aftermath of the Napoleonic Wars that allowed the force to survive when the other volunteer institutions melted away, its social composition making it a reliable police force when none other existed. Like the other volunteer institutions, its existence was symbolic of notional state support; unlike the others, however, it regularly provided physical support as well. Nonetheless, when those internal and external pressures were reduced, the force rapidly shrank, retreating largely to its bastions in elite society – both rural and, increasingly, urban. As a movement it had never been ‘popular’ nor ‘of the people’, and even in 1820 – its highest strength before the wars of the twentieth century – it could only claim the participation of little more than 0.4 per cent of the British male population. ² This, however, would drop as low as 0.06 per cent on the eve of the Second Boer War. ³ It was this manageable size combined with its relative cheapness and evidence of middle-class participation that kept the force in being; this, however, did little for its efficiency. Many speculated at the turn of the century that it would collapse under the financial burden placed upon its officer corps, and some argued such an end would be best for all involved. Nevertheless, more by luck than judgement, that potential disaster was averted by the demands placed upon the Yeomanry by the South African War and a rekindled interest in the amateur military tradition.

With evident central encouragement the force expanded considerably in reaction to that conflict and this, combined with the later organization introduced by the Territorial and Reserve Forces Act 1907, placed the Yeomanry in the most efficient military state in its history. Even so, its relative ignorance of complicated cavalry work and the lack of demand for the mounted arm placed distinct constraints on the force’s use on the outbreak of the First World War. Although its contribution to operations in the Middle East and on the Western Front should not be trivialized, it is not unreasonable to state that the value of this contribution came in the last two years of the war. For many regiments it was a varied conflict a long way from home, a war that was often dominated by what was happening in France and Flanders. Though approximately half served mounted on the Western Front or in the Middle East, the other half had left the UK as dismounted cavalry, neither retrained nor rearmed as infantry. These regiments operated in limbo, hamstrung by their organization and unappreciated by theatre commanders, until finally reorganized as the 74th ‘Broken Spur’ Division in the spring of 1917. These ‘yeofantry’ (as well as a number of mounted units reorganized as machine-gun battalions) went on to face the violence of the closing stages of the conflict in the west. With the war’s end came reflection, and, in a system under financial pressure, experiences like this led the authorities to focus on the military and financial value of the cavalry, both auxiliary and regular.

III. The General Staff and a Role for the Yeomanry

For the 31 regular cavalry regiments, this scrutiny alone invoked considerable resentment. Nonetheless, despite their dedicated service both mounted and dismounted, for the most part they had not played the role that was envisaged of them. As a result, they neatly fit into the predictable post-war retrenchment and restructuring exercise, something that eventually led to the disbandment of the 4 most junior regiments and the amalgamation of 15 others into the ‘Vulgar Fractions’. ⁴

Securing a role and place in the estimates for the Yeomanry presented similar issues and opportunities. After lengthy consideration, the General Staff produced a template for the new army, both regular and territorial. In the words of the Chief of the Imperial General Staff (CIGS) Field Marshal Sir Henry Wilson, these plans had largely been shaped by ‘a limited amount of money; and almost unlimited commitment in the shape of protecting the empire’. ⁵ For the Yeomanry this meant keeping just 10 regiments as cavalry and converting the remaining regiments into field or mountain artillery, joining neighbouring county regiments to form brigades of army troops. ⁶ Those regiments without a suitable neighbour were to be attached to the Tank Corps by forming armoured car – or ‘motor machine-gun’ – units. In the interest of fairness, these plans favoured the list of precedence over recent history or the recognized efficiency of certain regiments. For example, the Hampshire Carabiniers – a regiment widely considered the first to adopt effective mounted-rifle techniques and that had recently served mounted on the Western Front – was numbered 20 on the list of precedence and thus ordered to convert to artillery. Similarly, a further 22 regiments that had been mounted in the recent war were converted into different arms, while 4 of those to be retained as cavalry had been dismounted throughout their entire war service. ⁷

The arms allocated were chosen so that the Yeomanry would continue to operate alongside mounted troops and, by avoiding brigading with existing Royal Field Artillery (RFA) and other units, it was hoped the force would maintain its esprit de corps and exclusivity. ⁸ In the event of mobilization, six mounted regiments were to form the nucleus of a second cavalry division (two brigades), while four others provided corps cavalry functions to the expeditionary force. Two other reconfigured Yeomanry regiments were to supply the signals and Royal Horse Artillery (RHA) support for the new division – the 1st County of London and the City of London ‘Rough Riders’ respectively – in the form of two signals squadrons and two batteries of horse artillery (after amalgamating with the Honourable Artillery Company). The Scottish Horse and Lovat Scouts were both reduced to single regiments and converted into ‘mounted scouts’. ⁹ Of those that remained, 28 were to form two batteries of RFA (coming together to make 14 brigades), 4 were to become two brigades of pack – or mountain – artillery, and 7 were to become armoured car companies. ¹⁰ The compositions of these units were as follows:

The Yeomanry was earmarked by the General Staff in this way to meet a particular need: to significantly increase the proportion of artillery in the Territorial Army. A sensible restructuring of the 44 ‘surplus’ Yeomanry regiments promised to aid this rebalance by boosting the artillery at the expense of the mounted arm. This, it was thought, would be the most efficient and effective approach, rather than forcing the Yeomanry to disband while raising new formations with no histories. ¹² Despite the seemingly negative implications of this diktat, there were advantages to most of the options concerned and, in many ways, they were targeted towards goading the Yeomanry into conforming.

Predictably, only those in ‘mountainous’ areas could form mountain batteries (although all those allocated would eventually opt to convert to RFA), while those that chose to become field artillery were promised they would not be brigaded with standing Territorial field artillery formations. ¹³ As exclusivity from existing Territorial units was maintained, both of these options promised to keep the yeomen in contact with horses, as there were no plans to mechanize the artillery at this early date. Armoured cars were already linked to the institution through the Duke of Westminster’s exploits during the war, but by converting to this arm, the Yeomanry could claim to be among the first mechanized cavalry units in the British army. ¹⁴ Although they were to be placed within the junior and rather unfashionable Royal Tank Corps, this was for the sake of simplicity, as no regular cavalry would be mechanized until 1928. ¹⁵ Though there were no horses, this option allowed regiments to remain wedded to mobile operations, while also offering new recruits the ability to work with and learn about motorized vehicles at a time when such things were largely a novelty. ¹⁶ Nonetheless, despite the General Staff’s carefully tailored plans, such fundamental changes did not sail through without notice.

With all other elements of the scheme apparently settled, the secretary of state for war and air, Winston Churchill, urged the military authorities to meet with Yeomanry representatives to put before them these proposals. Although his reasons were never recorded, it is clear that he understood the gravity of the changes affecting the force and, as an ex-major of the Oxfordshire Hussars, fully understood the social and political power latent within it.

IV. The Yeomanry Debates

The first of what would eventually be three meetings between Yeomanry and Territorial Force Association representatives, senior army officers, and politicians took place on 4 February 1920. On this occasion Deputy Chief of the Imperial General Staff (DCIGS) General Sir Charles H. Harington explained the plans to the Yeomanry and Territorial representatives. On examining them, it is clear that most were unprepared for a fight, with few appearing obstinate or deliberately obstructive. After a short discussion of potential options – particularly the possibility of converting to Special Reserve to remain mounted – those present were encouraged to take the proposals back to their regiments and associations for discussion, and to reconvene at a later date. ¹⁷

That date was a little over a week after the initial meeting, with Churchill sitting alongside an even more heavyweight military panel, including the CIGS, Field Marshal Sir Henry Wilson; the DCIGS, Major General C.H. Harington; the Director General of the Territorial Force (DGTF), Major General the Earl of Scarborough; and the Director of Military Operations (DMO), Major General Sir P.P. de B. Radcliffe. Not the force’s warmest supporter, Wilson opened the conference by reiterating the significance of finance in shaping these plans, before asking each representative to report back regimental feeling. ¹⁸ Still clinging to the possibility of a seemingly simple shift to the Special Reserve, seven of the regiments present were keen to pursue the idea further, arguing primarily that a loss of horses would lead to a complete shift in composition. ¹⁹ Viscount Valentia, colonel of the Oxfordshire Hussars, for example, was positive that the men of the midland counties would serve as nothing else. As he put it:

these men are not dependent on the goodwill of their employers which is the case in so many territorial regiments; they will not be prepared to take on under the new conditions … they are not only intelligent men but are in a superior position and extremely teachable; far more teachable than the ordinary recruit. ²⁰

This point would become the central pillar of resistance among the more troublesome regiments and had some grounding in reason, especially for truly rural and distributed corps such as the Pembrokeshire Yeomanry who feared for their continued existence. ²¹ However, despite the fact that these concerns were echoed in one way or another by most that were present, the majority were committed to do what they could for the scheme.

Concluding the proceedings, Churchill – who professed himself as a mere observer of the process – congratulated all parties on coming together, but uttered the warning, ‘it is no good our trying to make a plan which provides for the Yeomanry which does not carry with it sound military opinion’. Nonetheless, in what would become a recurring trait, he contradicted this sentiment by exposing some of his own sympathies, making reference to the preservation of identities and traditions in the force. General Harington agreed to report back to the Army Council with a record of the event, including his recommendations, something that would be communicated in the following weeks. ²²

In the intervening time, Churchill wrote to his undersecretary, Lord Peel, and the CIGS outlining his increasingly divergent thinking. In his mind,

the military arguments which led, after the South African War, to the large increase of Yeomanry Cavalry have not … been upset by the present war. The kind of wars which the British Empire has to look forward to as the most probable are wars with small armies in large countries with open flanks and where mobility will count … It is far more likely that there will be trouble in Palestine or Mesopotamia, in India itself, in Ireland, or in South Africa [than a static war in Europe].

His apparently unexpected alternative proposition was to raise the number of mounted regiments to 30 and force the overseas obligation upon them, converting only the remainder. ²³ In a follow-up note to Wilson sent five days later, Churchill – clearly having heard of further developments – went as far as accusing the General Staff of twisting this proposition into a Special Reserve offering they knew would destroy the force with its extra demands. Suggesting that they could ‘bend’ the army in a way they could not the Territorials, he advised that if they valued the composition of the Yeomanry – which, he asserted, they certainly should – they would have to bend themselves to meet their needs. The Yeomanry, he noted,

are a force whose composition makes them specially trustworthy … [By forcing change upon them] they will lose their best and strongest elements and change their character and composition, and the resulting artillery, with its almost farcical training, will have a very low standard of value.

He concluded by saying the Yeomanry existed ‘at a cost incomparably cheaper for their fighting value than any other class of men we are proposing to maintain’. ²⁴ In reply Wilson – no doubt surprised by the secretary of state’s outburst – coolly advised Churchill to accept the General Staff scheme, pointing out that a temporary delay on conversion was the only other viable option; the longer it was left, he warned, the more it would cost. ²⁵

The third and final Yeomanry conference at the War Office came on 8 March 1920, clearly driven by these renewed complications. Chaired by the secretary for war, the meeting began with an update from the non-mounted regiments on their current status and prospects. Unsurprisingly, the same arguments and concerns prevailed, focusing mainly on the issue of the social status of the other ranks and the training of senior officers. However, as the DGTF, Lord Scarborough, had predicted in the preceding weeks, although the regiments universally deprecated the changes, the majority were actually prepared to fall in with the conversions if there was no alternative to disbandment than being transferred to the Special Reserve. ²⁶ Those that still entertained the possibility of a conversion to that arm – the regiments of Glamorgan, Hampshire, Bedfordshire, Northumberland, Denbigh, and Essex – were largely convinced otherwise by the annual training requirements: 5 months for recruits and 27 days for enrolled men. It was unlikely that the demographic that joined the Yeomanry would ever be able to meet those demands, which had more potential to undo the force than any conversion to artillery. Although the possibility of reducing recruit training to 2 months was pushed forward by Churchill, it was universally accepted that this was essentially as difficult as 5. ²⁷

The process had been dragged out for far longer than the General Staff had wished, at least in part owing to the influence of the secretary of state. Lord Peel – the undersecretary of state for war and colonel of the Bedfordshire Yeomanry – had urged Churchill to settle the issue, but the very individual nature of the force encouraged him to do all in his power to prevent what he saw as its potential collapse. In an effort to do just this, Churchill took the entire conference by surprise – including the DCIGS, Major General Harington – by offering the representatives Wilson’s alternative: to reform on pre-war lines for up to two years. There was a modicum of logic behind his proposal: by getting the old yeomen into camp, it was thought that they would be more inclined to accept conversion as a unit, thus maximizing the opportunity of maintaining the character of the force. However, not only did this upset the General Staff scheme – the more so because some brigades were split by one half wanting to remain mounted – it did not fit with the vision of a force being reshaped under financial pressures. In the simplest terms, Churchill allowed regiments to train for a further two years in a form that would be useful to neither them nor the country, delaying conversion, retraining, and costs.

General Harington’s surprise at Churchill’s suggestion comes across clearly – even on paper – implying the idea had not been fully discussed by the General Staff, and certainly not agreed with Churchill in advance. He nonetheless settled to honour the promise, but warned, ‘I sincerely hope this decision will not be taken as a headline for a victory for the Yeomanry.’ ²⁸ As a temporary reprieve, it hardly stood for much in the immediate term; however, Churchill had planted a seed that would cause considerably more trouble during the next two years.

A General Staff memorandum of 16 March 1920 confirmed the final arrangements, outlining the conversions for all Yeomanry regiments. ²⁹ Of the 28 due to be converted to artillery, 14 initially opted to stay mounted for the two years offered by Churchill, though, in an attempt to sour this option, the General Staff withheld adjutants and permanent staff. ³⁰ Unsurprisingly, it has been suggested that some believed the two years’ grace would lead to the War Office backing down on the whole issue. ³¹ As many previous attempts to change the Yeomanry had ended in failure, it was felt that a protracted campaign might weaken the resolve of the Army Council, General Staff, and War Office. ³² As the background correspondence suggests, however, it was equally clear that the General Staff was determined to see through reforms in the auxiliary cavalry.

At the regimental level, experiences of reform were mixed. By the time of the third and final conference, 24 of the 36 representatives believed they could undertake the changes and produce functioning regiments, albeit without their existing members in some cases. ³³ Some were considerably more willing to loyally accept changes than others, although few of the artillery brigades – bar perhaps Kent – formed without issue. For example, in Hampshire the Carabiniers were due to join with the Dorset Yeomanry, but their lieutenant colonel, J.F.N. Baxendale, submitted a last-ditch proposal to the War Office. Stating that the Territorial Force Association in Southampton already administered a large number of artillery regiments, he argued that another unit pursuing the same service was likely to find recruiting hard as so many others were competing for their participation. Unsurprisingly, Baxendale suggested that, if they remained mounted, they would maintain their best men who were otherwise unwilling to serve in any other arm of the Territorial Force. However, as might be expected by this stage of proceedings, the plea failed to find a sympathetic ear. ³⁴ In this case the instruction to reorganize was not a simple one to follow. The would-be brigade partner – the Dorset Yeomanry – had opted to remain mounted for two years rather than convert immediately, leaving the Hampshire regiment in an uncertain position. Even so, events elsewhere were about to overshadow such inconveniences, genuinely threatening to undo the delicately constructed scheme that fell out of the Yeomanry conferences.

On 8 December 1920 Winston Churchill gave a speech at the Mansion House, London, that laid the groundwork for the scheme’s complete collapse. Reporting on the event, The Times quoted Churchill saying that, on publication of the General Staff’s plan for the Territorial Army, he had received deputations from across the country asking, ‘we are left out; will you not give us a chance?’ As a result, he felt obliged to take a ‘flexible attitude’ to the General Staff’s formula and base decisions of unit survival entirely on recruitment. Though provocative enough on its own, it was a statement made shortly afterwards – more specifically, the reporting of that statement – that caused the real controversy. The Times recorded Churchill’s words as:

The Northumbrian [sic] Hussars, not included in the 10 Yeomanry regiments which were to be retained as cavalry, has been the first of all the Yeomanry regiments to attain its full strength. I propose that that regiment shall, if it wishes, take the place of one of the original 10, which on a given date will be found to have made the least rapid progress towards the completion of its strength. This kind of process will have to be applied during the present year, and I hope that those concerned in the raising of units will not hesitate to let it be known that if at the end of this year it is found that units have not made any substantial progress towards getting their establishments, they may be replaced by other units which are at present redundant, but which have advanced very far towards their total figure. ³⁵

The official release circulated by the War Office simply read:

The Northumberland Hussars, which, although it was not included in the 10 Yeomanry regiments which were to be retained as cavalry, has been the first of the Yeomanry regiments to have attained its full strength. If any of the 10 regiments have not made the rapid progress towards the completion of the strength that is expected of them, then they will find themselves replaced by other units which have advanced more rapidly towards the total figure. ³⁶

At number 14 on the Yeomanry seniority list, the regiment had no right to a place as cavalry in the new and agreed scheme. Nonetheless, the subtle variations in the text would go on to cause the new secretary of state for war, Sir Laming Worthington-Evans, a considerable headache, with the regiment taking Churchill’s speech – and not the sanitized War Office version – as a personal pledge.

Clumsily muddying the General Staff’s plans once again, Churchill’s latest gaff had the unfortunate impact of giving hope not just to the Northumberland Hussars, but also to those regiments not lucky enough to be further up the list of precedence. In particular, it confused the fate of the three regiments that remained above that corps: the North Somerset Yeomanry, the Duke of Lancaster’s Own, and the Lanarkshire Yeomanry. By early 1921 all three had already effected their conversion to artillery, leaving the authorities with three possible options: allow the Northumberland Hussars to continue as cavalry, despite their precedence; force the Northumberland Hussars to convert to a new arm, as originally ordered; or redesignate and re-equip all four regiments as cavalry, undoing the hard work already undertaken and tempting what the DGTF referred to as ‘great trouble and heart burning’ in the rest of the force. ³⁷ Churchill’s replacement by Worthington-Evans as secretary of state for war in February 1921 had only served to complicate this matter further.

In an effort to confirm Churchill’s intentions and seize the initiative, the Northumberland Hussars sent a deputation to the War Office in February 1921. Here it met with the new secretary of state and his undersecretary, Baron Bayford, alongside the CIGS and the incoming and outgoing DGTF, Lieutenant General Noel Birch and Major General the Earl of Scarborough respectively. Worthington-Evans was initially diplomatic in his dealings with the regimental representatives, but pleaded with them on the fact that no more than 10 regiments were required – as he put it, ‘I want to appreciate and meet your difficulties as far as I can. Do the same for me.’ With the deputation having been assured that the regiment had not simply been used as a ‘stalking horse’ to encourage the first 10 to recruit with energy, it is clear that he and his military counterparts hoped that the representatives would come round; sadly, the regiment – led by its colonel – was completely uncompromising. ³⁸

In a letter written later by Worthington-Evans’s private secretary, it was noted that he was willing to go to great lengths to avoid showing any ‘public difference’ between him and Churchill. ³⁹ In proof of this promise, he told the delegation that he would ‘fulfil any pledge given by my predecessor if you insist on it’, but warned that anything seen as a ‘breach of faith’ could bring down the entire Territorial Army. As Birch also pointed out, the other regiments had begun making their own claims, and ‘all know you are going to bring this attack and they are all going to jump in after you’. ⁴⁰ Whatever the outcome, to uphold any pledge Worthington-Evans and the officers would have to agree on what had been promised; on this occasion, neither side was able to convince the other of the true meaning of Churchill’s words. They parted at odds.

Speaking in the House shortly afterwards, Worthington-Evans gave a brief outline of the Yeomanry situation, stating that all but 14 regiments had decided on their conversion, and that those that remained were seeing out their two-year window as cavalry. He noted in diplomatic tones that Churchill had misjudged the pace of recruitment and difficulties faced by regiments, and that the deputation of Northumberland Hussars was stirring up needless problems among regiments that now felt prejudiced against for doing what was asked of them. He went on to assure the House that an expansion of the cavalry contingent ‘could not be accepted as it would not be justifiable to spend public money upon a unit which was not actually required for defence’. Nonetheless, to his probable dismay, the member for Durham – Major Hills, lately of the Northumberland Hussars deputation – continued to press the issue. Rightly noting that the speech heard and recorded by The Times differed from that issued by the War Office, he suggested Worthington-Evans enquire of Churchill whether his promise was absolute or conditional, and advised him to act according to his reply. ‘The officers and men of the regiment’, he noted, ‘believed they were certainly included, and any failure fully to carry out such a promise would have a bad effect on recruiting.’ ⁴¹

Following this confrontation, Worthington-Evans wrote to Churchill pleading with him to back the War Office report to avoid ‘raising a tempest’ among the Yeomanry regiments. In reply the increasingly belligerent Churchill informed the new secretary for war that he did not believe any Yeomanry regiment should be forced to convert to an arm that it was not suited to, even recommending that reductions be directed at the regular cavalry to preserve the force. The balance of artillery, he suggested, could more easily be rectified in the regular army and – contrary to the outcome of the Yeomanry conferences – the Yeomanry was unlikely to take to anything but cavalry in its current form and constitution. He concluded, ‘I must strongly urge you to honour my undertakings. It is only what every minister has to do when he takes over an office from a colleague.’ ⁴²

Given the sensitive and fragile constitution of many regiments, and the publically and privately expressed opinion of Churchill, only one of the possible options was feasible. As a result Worthington-Evans approved the expansion of the cavalry element of the Territorial Army to 14 regiments, with the 3 regiments senior to the Northumberland Hussars given the opportunity to convert back to cavalry; though he had hoped otherwise, this is exactly what they did. ⁴³ The result of this volte-face was consternation among the Yeomanry regiments. Those far outside the top 10 that had recruited just as well as the Northumberland Hussars – the Derbyshire Yeomanry at number 22 on the precedence list, for example – had eagerly awaited the results of the deputation, with most having written to stake their own claims. ⁴⁴ In the end, they were left disappointed. Having missed out by one place, the South Nottinghamshire Hussars attacked the flawed precedence table on the basis that it had been incorrect from the time it was put together in the late nineteenth century. Others attempted to leverage influence at the highest levels, most notably the Norfolk Yeomanry and Viscount Valentia of the Oxfordshire Hussars, who wrote directly to the king. As colonel-in-chief of the first corps, it was hoped that he might apply some pressure for their preservation as cavalry, but it was too late; Worthington-Evans had already won the king’s support. The reply sent to Valentia was signed off ‘you may rest assured how sorry the King is not to be able to assist your wishes’, but ‘it would be gratifying to the King to think that the Oxfordshire Hussars had proposed to continue service as Field Artillery’. ⁴⁵ With no support from the highest authority, there was little option but to convert or disband; as with all but the Lincolnshire Yeomanry, the regiment chose the former.

V. The Regimental Experience

Gary Evans has suggested that the Yeomanry conferences that started this process came as a result of predicted resistance and marked the beginning of protracted appeasement. Using their social and political weight, it is suggested that the regiments clung on to their horses and traditions despite what should have been clear lessons from the recent war. This picture of anachronism is, however, overstated. ⁴⁶ Although there were clearly those who exercised their connections and pushed back against the General Staff and War Office, the majority of regiments were not belligerent. Indeed, in the first of the Yeomanry conferences, the representative for Bedfordshire announced: ‘it is no good thinking about our private wishes and our private ambitions. This scheme has been considered for a year and all we can do is put our backs into it and make it a success.’ He was subsequently supported by the representative from Essex. ⁴⁷ Others, too, loyally fell in with the scheme without resistance during the final conference, including the regiments of London, Middlesex, Sussex, Glasgow, and Fife and Forfar. ⁴⁸ Although the vagaries of Churchill prompted some last-gasp resistance in a number of examples, the evidence for frustration and fatigue is more commonplace.

Just because regiments chose not to resist the key feature of the reforms does not mean they failed to exercise their influence in other ways to take greater control over their destiny. In Lincolnshire this meant voluntary disbandment; with the officers refusing to convert to anything that meant dismounting or new conditions, the regiment and Territorial Force Association decided that it had no future. ⁴⁹ For the more determined and flexible, it meant pursuing more interesting or suitable roles. In one such example the Derbyshire Yeomanry and Essex Yeomanry effectively swapped designations. Having many trained mechanics from the Rolls-Royce works in its ranks, the Derbyshire Territorial Force Association pushed for its Yeomanry regiment to be converted to armoured cars rather than forming half of the Notts and Derby RFA brigade. It was heard ‘unofficially’ that the Essex Yeomanry would rather be artillery, and it was suggested that a direct swap of designation would maintain balance in the force. ⁵⁰

By May 1921 the Essex Yeomanry, having failed to make a decision, approached the War Office to allow a delay until the end of the annual camp. Facing the choice of artillery or armoured cars, at least one officer in the regiment believed a change to the former would not be well received in the ranks. The men in Colchester, he explained, ‘look down very much on the Territorial R.F.A. there … [as] they are rather a motley crowd … so it might be difficult to get them to commit to a similar arm’. As a result he went on to suggest that owing to ‘the union’s mechanical factories it might be easier to get Ford armoured car men’. ⁵¹ The Essex Yeomanry had never been a rural corps, and in the Edwardian period had certainly been more representative than most, with skilled tradesmen and small business owners making up more than half of the rank and file. Nonetheless, the social elitism exhibited by its rank and file clearly persisted. Despite this officer’s concerns and possible solution, the Essex Yeomanry eventually formed an RFA brigade on its own, almost certainly because of the preservation of its strength and the promise that it would not be brigaded with the local Territorial RFA. ⁵²

On paper, no artillery was lost from the scheme, but on the ground the result was two isolated two-battery RFA brigades – the South Notts Hussars (107th) and Essex Yeomanry (104th) Brigades RFA. The awkward impracticalities of this arrangement need not be explained. ⁵³ In the case of the South Notts Hussars, there was satisfaction that it was to retain its single unit title, but nor was it lost on the regiment that it was about to be shrunk considerably. ⁵⁴

Other regiments made very personal decisions about whom they were willing to serve alongside. For example, when the West Somerset Yeomanry’s artillery brigade was broken by the North Somerset regiment being remounted, the Dorset Yeomanry decided they would rather join the West Somerset Yeomanry than the Hampshire Carabiniers, as was proposed in the scheme. As Lord Wynford put it, this was ‘far more welcome to our men’, but once again produced a two-battery brigade in the form of the Hampshire Carabiniers (95th) Brigade RFA, after it absorbed the Hampshire RHA Battery in Southampton in January 1922. With only a single battery being formed from the regiment – two gun sections were maintained in Winchester and Basingstoke – it was said that very few officers, NCOs, or other ranks followed Lieutenant Colonel Baxendale into the new unit. ⁵⁵ Given the substantial changes that had befallen the majority of Yeomanry regiments, these seem like very minor victories; nonetheless, they highlight the lobbying power and influence contained within the force, as well as the authorities’ understanding of the importance of maintaining their manpower. They might not have attempted to break the General Staff scheme entirely, but they did everything in their power to have conversion their own way. ⁵⁶

For converting regiments there were a number of glaring issues, most significant of which involved changing establishment figures. The peacetime establishment of a Yeomanry regiment in 1913 was 462 men, 24 of whom were officers. The arm to which a regiment was converting could, then, have a significant impact on the number of men and officers who could be welcomed back. Significantly, an armoured car company was less than half the size of a cavalry regiment. ⁵⁷ If a corps had won over much of its manpower to conversion, it is possible that this contraction could lead to friction. Nonetheless, in many other cases, this vision never came to pass. In some cases, officers remained undecided on the question of continuing their service, especially as a large number were in inflated positions because of their recent war service. Similarly, other ranks of the arm were busy rebuilding their lives and businesses in the aftermath of war, while others were more concerned with finding work than considering further military duty. There were also those who felt despondent at their treatment during the war. With many wartime yeomen of the second and third lines sent outside the arm – particularly to the infantry – it was suggested by some that they felt betrayed and were unlikely to offer their services in the post-war period. ⁵⁸ To work, the reconstitution had either to bring these men back on side or tap into different sections of British society.

With this in mind, the national figures for recruitment and retention did not paint a very positive picture. The strength of the Yeomanry on paper after reconstitution in February 1920 was 2,277. Its strength at camp in the same year was even less inspiring, standing at a paltry 412, though it should be noted that many Territorial Associations chose not to camp that year. ⁵⁹ Although the force was clearly able to recruit across the gamut of its new responsibilities by 1923, overall it was short of officers by between 18 and 41 per cent. In many circumstances the other ranks were similarly short, ranging from 3 to 25 per cent of the establishment figure. Of particular interest, the armoured car companies were collectively short of more than a quarter of their establishment in officers and other ranks (despite their considerably reduced capacity), while the most numerous of the converted regiments – the RFA brigades – were approximately 20 per cent short of officers and men. While these figures are indicative of wider recruiting trends in the armed forces in the post-war period, it is worth noting that the mounted regiments of the Yeomanry – the cavalry and scouts – performed comparatively well, being only 10 per cent short of their establishment figures for other ranks. ⁶⁰

The resulting age composition of the force is also very telling. With only 58 per cent of those enlisted boasting previous Yeomanry or cavalry experience, the remaining 42 per cent were novices, despite the enormous contraction of numbers compared with their strength before and during wartime. ⁶¹ Admittedly, this was slightly better than the Territorial Army as a whole – standing at a little over half – suggesting that ties within the Yeomanry and the influence of officers remained strong. ⁶² Nonetheless, the majority group making up the numbers in the service in 1920 were aged between 17 and 20 and in 1925 were between 20 and 25. For the most part, then, these were men who had not seen war service with the Yeomanry or any other branch. ⁶³

Unfortunately, demographic information is hard to come by, which makes it difficult to understand social composition, especially for each of the new arms. In an attempt to do this for the mounted regiments, however, Evans makes the mistake of accepting simplified interpretations of the yeoman class. Using one of very few available examples – the Leicester Yeomanry throughout the 1920s – Evans argues that those from traditionally accepted Yeomanry backgrounds (farmers, grooms, and other agricultural trades) made up 35 per cent of its manpower, which dropped as low as 24 per cent in 1932. To add historical perspective to Evans’s analysis, however, more than two-thirds of the Essex Yeomanry in 1827 came from urban populations, while the South Salopian Yeomanry looked to Shrewsbury’s tradesmen in the 1880s, and the Glasgow and Lower Ward of Lanarkshire Yeomanry made up its numbers from clerks, merchants, and lawyers. The suggestion that the force shifted from something entirely rural into an urban-dominated movement thus misses entirely the fact that membership had been diverse from its beginnings. The real point of contention is, then, not necessarily one of occupation but one of class and status. Ignoring the rigidity and weaknesses of class-based analyses, it is clear that no other auxiliary force could mobilize the middle class in peacetime as effectively as the Yeomanry. Though anecdotal evidence for the inclusion of mechanical engineers appears to be something of a break with tradition, skilled tradesmen had been part of the force since its beginning; this, then, reflected changes in wider society more than recruiting practices. ⁶⁴

VI. Conclusion

The task of reorganizing the Yeomanry to fit with the plans of the General Staff and the reconstituted Territorial Army was not an enviable one. With a history of difficulty when it came to reform, it was made all the more complex by the interference of influential individuals and lobbies. With only a very small number of mounted units required, there was a need to select as few as 10 from the 55 pre-war regiments. The War Office saw the list of precedence as the only fair way to make this decision, but was no doubt also aware that it presented the path of least resistance. Unfortunately, this list did not take into account efficiency or war service, both of which were a huge issue among those who had previously embraced change and moved away from the antiquated methods of the nineteenth century. There is no doubt that there was a need to reform and to restructure the force after the First World War, not only because of the reduced demand for cavalry, but also because of the balance of arms in the Territorial Army. At the same time it is clear that some in authority recognized that the Yeomanry had been, up until the war, perhaps the only vehicle for middle-class participation in national defence. As a result the force was treated fairly – without a doubt given more opportunities to shape its future than any other arm – which meant the majority of dismounted regiments were willing to accept the General Staff scheme, despite the confused process.

Central to this confusion was Churchill. On the surface his interventions seem clumsy and his intentions are not immediately clear. As an attempt to inspire and encourage the force to recruit and form an effective part of the new Territorial Army, his pledge to the Northumberland Hussars had worked to a degree. As an attempt to return more regiments to their horses, the success had been less pronounced. Given Churchill’s comments to Worthington-Evans and others, it is clear that an expansion of the mounted Yeomanry was part of his thinking. Answering for his sympathies is difficult, although he was probably driven more by the fact that his old corps – the Oxfordshire Hussars – was due to form an artillery brigade with the Worcestershire Hussars (despite its illustrious war service in the cavalry divisions of the Western Front) than he was by the military value of the force on horseback. Overall, Churchill can be said to have been short-sighted and, if anything, caused upset and confusion among regiments that had otherwise accepted their fate. For the War Office and General Staff, the experience had simply caused an unnecessary headache. ⁶⁵

At the regimental level, opinions were rarely as robust as Churchill’s. Despite this, to some, the Yeomanry continues to represent an outdated, parochial, and anachronistic group. Rich in wealth, social status, or both, it made unnecessary trouble in an effort to maintain the exclusivity of its arm, at the expense of lessons from the recent war. ⁶⁶ There is little question that the Yeomanry was and still wanted to be a social institution, but other evidence seems to point to more complex conclusions in terms of its future structure. Although four more regiments than planned were left with horses, it cannot be denied that the others did in fact retrain as requested. In his attempt to bring the Northumberland Hussars round to the idea of conversion Worthington-Evans noted, ‘no one likes to see a change of arm … in a regiment with so glorious a history, but at the same time those who made the history can make the new arm’. ⁶⁷ Though many pushed for self-determination in conversion, the fact that only 14 converting regiments took the opportunity to remain temporarily mounted, and only one bowed out completely, suggests there was some acceptance of this fact.

The desire to defend their arm and interests is hardly surprising. Putting aside lengthy regimental histories, half of the Yeomanry regiments had fought mounted at times during the war and rightly felt as though they had made a meaningful contribution to victory. Nonetheless, reconfiguration was not alien to the force either, as the other half had fought dismounted for the war’s duration, not complaining as bitterly about becoming infantrymen as about being held back from the war effort. With illustrious histories, deep local roots, and a healthy presence of a previous generation of cavalry officers, the reaction ought to have been – and was – expected; the outcome of the process, however, proves the Yeomanry had adequate brains to shape its future and was capable of considerably more than simply resisting change.

A combination of conversion and the new Territorial contract placed the Yeomanry Cavalry on a more usable and efficient footing. ⁶⁸ Despite losing some of its shared identity, it had boosted the compliment of artillery in the Territorial Army and had led the way in converting cavalry into armour. At the same time, its socially powerful officer corps and influential advocates allowed a portion of the force to remain wedded to its history until 1939, when the War Office decided to convert 8 of the remaining 10 mounted units into artillery. ⁶⁹ While these belated conversions prove Churchill’s predictions wrong and suggest a degree of failure in the whole process, they also hint at another key issue in the Territorial debates that stretched beyond the confines of the Yeomanry: the delicate balance and limitations of the voluntary system. Strip away the character of a force and ask for ever greater commitments, and you whittle away at the number willing to sacrifice their time and energy to the cause. While this fact undoubtedly played on the minds of all Yeomanry colonels considering the future composition and durability their regiments, it was also clearly a consideration for the force’s military and political masters. Though reconfiguration may be politically, economically, or militarily expedient, the limitations of the voluntary system will always dictate what is achievable: an example from history still pertinent today.