trait, and the more so because my confrères were on such good terms with each other. Enter at last a grand procession! Smiling stewards with white wands in their hands, and rosettes in their button-holes, precede a stately pomp of lords, and baronets, and knights, and aldermen, and gentlemen (ought not the last to be first, by the by?), and escort them to the top table; and amid the strains of the band and the waving of kerchiefs from the gallery, the Ameliorators take their places. A crowd of waiters struggling beneath the weight of mighty covers fills up the void which has been left by the march of white-headed nobles, with red noses and ribands, and is at last precipitated on the tables in a sediment of tureens and smoking dishes. While I gaze in wonderment on this strange scene, the triumphal strains of the band cease, and I feel a gentle nudge at my elbow. A party gorgeously apparelled, with rills of shirt-frills and bossy studs, and an engaging smile at once familiar and deprecating offence, says to me," Mr. a-a-a- (a bow), I haven't the pleasure of your name (a bow), but my name is Harkaway, Sir well known to Mr. Ginner, of your paper, Sir (a bow)-and if you'll be so good as to say Harkaway, the toast-master, was as -anything you're good enough to think, Sir-as usual (two bows). Thank you, Sir, you're very kind" (three bows, and vanish the vision amid the waiters). And now a clergyman rises to bless the feast, and as his general exhortation, not to be fond of creature-comforts, but rather to eschew feasting and revelling, is something of the longest, many of the company raise the covers, and peep slily into the dishes to ascertain the contents, and then, as the Ameliorators are great martyrs in this way, and stave off what they so much desire, as far as they can, a stout gentleman, with a bass voice, a lean gentleman, with a barytone tenor ditto, and a cherry-cheeked, rotund little body, whether boy or man one cannot say at the distance, with a juggle and a warble in the throat like that of an overfed nightingale, execute that dreary ode to the deity of dinners, "Non nobis Domine." If What a clatter as the peaceful army sits down to battle! old Homer had heard it he might have culled one more simile to describe the march of the Grecian host. Ladles, spoons, knives, forks, plates, covers, and glasses keep up a perpetual clash, tingle, clang, which rise above the crash of a waltz by Lanner, and the rows of the waiters by dozens. A red-faced gentleman at the other side of the table, who has been working away at a large tureen for some time, catches a glimpse of my plate whilst I am staring about me, and with horror exclaims, "Why, good gracious, Sir! you've had no turtle! and it's getting cold! here, waiter, that young gentleman's plate opposite. I've a nice bit of the meat for you left." What a mine of happiness I am for that man! he has discovered I never was at a public dinner before, and he is he confesses with a sigh-the hero of hundreds of them; he takes care of me as a father would of a favourite child-he tells me when to drink my cold punch, my champagne, my claret (he insists on its being a light red-sealed bottle-orange won't do, nor scarlet), the exact moment at which port may be ventured on, and he marshals the made dishes, and reveals their secrets with rare prescience; he is my Mentor as to what to eat, drink, and avoid, makes enemies of his best friends by giving me all the titbits of flesh, fish, and fowl, and hears unmoved the whispered libel that "Old Goldfish is buttering up that young press chap to get a report of the speech," absorbed in the rare enjoyment of what, he says, with a sigh, is now his greatest pleasures, "Seeing a man eat with an appetite." With the aid of Goldfish I got on remarkably well. My brethren of the pencil relaxed so far as to ask me to take wine in rotation, and to inform me that this was the best dinner going, as it was expensive and there was nothing to do in the way of speechwriting. Several times I had observed a tall, slight, courteouslooking person, in evening dress, hovering round our chairs and speaking confidentially to my confrères, but could not make him out; waiter, head or tail, he evidently was not, and yet he, somehow or other, seemed to belong to the Metropolis Tavern. There was an air of diplomatic grace about him-a soft, oily gait, which slid him about here, there and everywhere, as though he travelled on felt springs-a bland smile and a hearty genial manner, mingled with excessive respectfulness and deference of address that attracted attention at once. Just as I was inquiring who this very agreeable person was, and had learned it was Mr. Lave, the proprietor, he appeared at my elbow, and as if I had become the one object of his thought and exertions, in his inimitable tones said, "Dear me, dear me, Mr. Ruxton, you have eaten nothingabsolutely nothing! Is there nothing I could get to tempt you? I have kept a woodcock just for you and our excellent friend, Mr. Goldfish. Ah! there is a man, Mr. Ruxton ! Such a man, Sir (forte); I often say what would we do only for him, Sir (piano), enormously rich-dines here four times a week. You really will not take anything more? dined so well! delighted, indeed! And how is my excellent friend, Mr. Ginner? No indisposition, I hope? Ah, well, that's really well, Sir. So glad to hear you believe him in his usual health." By this time a waiter had whispered something in Lave's ear. "And now, Sir, I'll just give you, if you will allow me, a taste-just a taste, 'pon my word, Mr. Ruxton, it's my last dozen of Prince Metternich's Cabinet hock-keep it just down there, between your legs-and give a glass or so to your vis-à-vis. Ah! Mr. Goldfish, you know what we have got here. Tell our excellent friend here (myself), who has honoured us with his company this evening, its history, I pray, sir-James (to a waiter) attend particularly to these gentlemen here and to this gentleman especially, whom I have not seen before.-No Champagne but Moet and Chardens-do you like La Rose or Chateau Lafitte, as a claret? I think you will, I'll send both-now do, I beseech you, make yourselves comfortable." And Mr. Lave glided off to spread happiness round him, and to win the hearts. of aldermen, common councilmen, stewards, and committee-men by appeals to their vanity and their stomach. And now came "The Queen," "The Prince Albert," &c., which are irreverently described in the prints as the usual loyal toasts, and "The Army and Navy;" Mr. Sims, of the City Artillery Company, returned thanks for the army, observing, that, when the time came, the corps to which he belonged would do its dooty (great cheers), and Lieut. Knocks, of the R.N., did the same for the navy, and in the course of his remarks introduced a spirited account of the battle of Copenhagen-the professionals warbling sweetly in the intervals, and Harkaway bellowing like all the bulls of Bashan his perpetual injunctions to gentlemen to charge their glasses, as if poor human nature was not prone enough to do it without any such stimulus. My mind having been set at rest by an assurance from my stenographic friend on the right, that Lave would get me the names of the people at the other dinner, and that a line or two would be enough for it, I resigned myself to the joys of the table, amid which was Lord Cinderley's speech on the gradual approach of an ameliorated-mankind era, which he illustrated by some astounding statistics from all parts of the criminal world. The noble lord had spent the day in hunting up young thieves through all the alleys of London, in attending a dog-fight for the purpose of reforming two very pet criminals who hitherto obstinately refused to read tracts, and live on the fat of the land at the expense of the society, and in distributing some religious pocket handkerchiefs; but as he had succeeded in capturing a cracksman out of luck, and two repentant cabbies, and taking them off to the retreat, he was in the best humour possible and spoke sanguinely of his ultimate success. The end of that dinner-what was it? when was it? I know not. I remember a small room filled with cigar smoke, faces looming out above it, and the fumes of hot brandy and water; also a number of songs and broiled bones, and an enthusiastic speech from myself, in which I wished to embrace all the company, and hailed them all as my best friends- and then a cab to the "Deflagrator,”—a dignified but unsuccessful attempt to walk steadily up stairs, with a consciousness that men in white shirt sleeves were grinning at me-most extraordinary paper and pens and ink in a desk in a big room with a rotatory motion, and a poem commencing "Sing, musa, sing the banquet of our Lave, The meeting with Dammer was awful. However, I got over it, and ever since I have been a "diner out" for the papers. It is not improbable but that I may give some account of the greatest and most remarkable of the wonderful scenes I have witnessed in that capacity-but it's very trying to the constitution-particularly as there is no coalition I know of can be called in to mind it. 151 CAMPS AND BIVOUACS, AT HOME AND ABROAD. BY MRS. WARD. HAVING, while on the Continent, the advantage of companionship with one whose experience in the service entitled his opinion to some weight, I was enabled to draw comparisons between the armies of England and Belgium, which, despite the prestige attached to the very name of the British soldier, were, I must confess, on some essential points not to our advantage, or to the credit of our military regulations. I must premise that the principles pervading the military economy of Belgium are based on the French system, and from this, believe me, we may take many a useful hint. The noble plain of St. Denis, the race-course and drill-ground of the venerable city of Ghent, was the scene on which we were first enabled to view a military spectacle in Belgium. On the day we visited the plain, it was occupied by a body of troops drawn up in order of battle, as if awaiting an enemy whose approach was concealed by a wood. The day was sultry and still, and though four thousand men were on the ground, scarcely a whisper fell upon the air. The old church of St. Pierre loomed hazily in the distance, the clouds parting now and then, and admitting the light in strange hues upon its grey dome; all was hushed, except at intervals, when the sound of the sickle in the adjacent cornfields reminded one of peace. Suddenly a band struck up, and, when that gay music ceased, the roll of the drum announced the approach of the general in command. The effect of the long line of helmets under the superb trees, with the glow of a sultry day, struggling through the pendent clouds upon the scene, was striking beyond description, and the foreground in which we stood finished the picture admirably. Over our heads clustered a group of noble elms; close at hand was a company of corn-reapers, and near us were congregated the cantinières or vivandières, and the venders of lemonade, the former in female regimentals, the limonadiers in motley costume, with their painted vessels of yellow and green picked out with scarlet. Within a short time, the troops drew up for the attack, with that dread silence which we can imagine usually precedes the shock of battle.. Squares of infantry now dotted the plain, the dragoons and rifles formed the reserve, and the artillery took up a position in the rear. The horses on which the general and his staff were mounted, were superb. The manœuvres which followed, if not perfectly comprehensible to the spectators, were exceedingly picturesque, and the dress of some of the regiments would have afforded useful hints to the fancy tailors of our English troops. The loose VOL. XXXIV. M easy trowsers of the dragoons, the comfortable coat, albeit too long for style, of the linesmen, the complete equipment of arms, so superior to our own, should all be studied by those authorities who are never at rest as to the costume of our soldiers, the finest race of men of their class in the world, but decidedly the worst appointed for work. Compare, for instance, the light French shako with the hideous head-gear of our men, the goat-skin knapsack with our huge canvass pack-cumbersome to wear, and difficult to put on; and think too of the smart moustache, shading the upper lip from the rays of the summer sun, or protecting the mouth from the cruel advances of a keen wind, not to speak of its martial air. We must only hope that, on these excursive days, those who pass from Chobham to Sartory,* or St. Omer, and back again to Chobham, will offer the benefit of their experience, in the shape of suggestions, to those on whom rests the responsibility of remedying defects and incongruities which have long been but two apparent in the British army. The Chasseurs à Carabines, the riflemen of Belgium, though perfectly equipped as to arms, appeared to us somewhat fantastical in their dress, which was after Robin Hood's fashion, but the artillery were admirably accoutred. Even the short-necked, shortlegged horses, which drew the guns, had a sturdy look, and jaunty air, peculiarly befitting their character. In a word, however proud England may be of her men, in equipment France and Belgium beat her fairly out of the field. After an hour's exercise, the soldiers were permitted to fall out of the ranks; the cuirassiers dismounted to attend to their horses, the infantry piled arms, and a band struck up. Straightway the vivandières mingled with the soldiers, and dispensed their tiny glasses of spirits. Before handing the draught to the soldier, the woman invariably tastes it, and this custom, we learned, dates from the days of Spanish thraldom in the Netherlands, when treachery and poison were suspected at every turn: it is now considered a token of good will. These "women of the regiment" are the wives and daughters of soldiers, and their appearance on the parade-ground adds greatly to the effect of the picture. Their dress, to a young and pretty woman, is extremely becoming; a short skirt, of regimental cloth, descends to the knee, and pantaloons of the same material are strapped over a boot or high shoe; the jacket is precisely like that of a riding-habit, and a wide-brimmed beaver hat, placed jauntily on the head, is ornamented by a regimental plume. The hat is tied beneath the chin, and a smart coloured rosette mingles with the braids or ringlets on either side the temples; a pretty collar, smart neck-ribbon, and white muslin apron, complete the costume, and the well-polished, brazen-clamped barrel is slung across the shoulders. The vivandière also carries a basket on her arm, with clean glasses, while a linen napkin, for wiping them, and a lace-trimmed handkerchief, depend from her waist. Thus * The camp-ground near Versailles. |