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,
Which not Lucullus".

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.

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.

equipped, she takes her stand in rear of the company to which she is attached, till the order to march is given, when she wheels into her place, and treads the ground with as martial a step as the best man there! If she belong to a cavalry corps, she is on horseback, but uses a man's saddle. There is something about these women which thoroughly realizes the idea of the word dashing. They have a frank, fearless look, but nothing vociferous or bold, and, in cases of difficulty and danger, have proved themselves invaluable as nurses and assistants.

They are well cared for, too-not like our poor soldiers' wives, obliged to eat, drink, cook, wash, and sleep, in the same room with some twenty or thirty men!

On my admitting, unwillingly enough, to a foreign officer that, according to the rule of the British service, men, women, and children occupied the same domicile by day and night, he expressed his surprise that "so great and civilized a nation should sanction such an immoral system." He could only hope, with me, that, as the heads of our public civil institutions were in correspondence with Holland and Belgium, some hints might be taken from their social arrangements of military life. "Here," said he," the soldier can only marry with the leave of the authorities, the indulgence depending on his good conduct, and if his wife does not demean herself properly, she is deprived of all privileges, and expelled the quarters.'

As it is found necessary to attach a certain number of women to each corps, Government requires that these women should not only be respectable when admitted to regimental privileges, but that they should remain so, or be discarded.

But to return to the military spectacle in St. Denis. The plain is all astir with the mirth of the young soldiers, and nothing affords a better proof of the comfort, as well as utility of their equipments, than the way in which they enjoy this hour of relaxation; for, see, instead of casting their knapsacks on the ground, and lying down weary with the weight they have been carrying, they do not even loosen their light kits. They form into groups, and five or six couple whirl by in a circle, dancing the polka! The first band stops; away hurry the dancers arm-in-arm, singing as they go, to the bivouac of the 7th regiment, and here a charming bolero stirs the air with its music, while a youth steps into a ring, snaps his fingers, and executes the old Spanish dance with such spirit that the circle widens round him, and some begin to sing; when, lo! the melody is interrupted by a blast from the trumpets of the cavalry, the troops again fall in, and a mock fight begins. This closes with a dashing charge of cuirassiers, from one end of the plain to the opposite grove, upon the position of the imaginary enemy. The General, with his staff, then takes up his ground, and the little army marches past him. First comes a corps of the line, with its superb band, then the riflemen, next a crash of trumpets and brazen-helmeted cuirassiers, -the men of Hainault, from Mons, Tournay and Liege. These muster a thousand strong, and as they ride slowly by, we think of

William de la Marck, the "wild boar of the Ardennes," and his Walloons.

In five minutes the great plain was void of all but drinking booths and pavilions. One of the latter named after St. Peter, with a bearded likeness of the Saint over the entrance, attracted a good many loiterers, but, notwithstanding this, and the permission to drink on the ground, we did not see one tipsy soldier during the day.

The linesmen left the field with fixed bayonets: these, and the helmets of the cuirassiers made a glittering show in the long green alley leading to the highway, and the motley crowd of limonadiers, cantinières, peasants in blue blouses, stray riflemen in "Lincoln green," women in holiday attire, and children in wooden shoes, gave the whole scene the appearance of a tableau at Astley's.

The countenances were as varied as the dress; the peasant with his oval face and aquiline nose was totally different in aspect to the flat-visaged dragoon; and among the soldiers of the line many a long black Spanish eye shot out from under sable lashes, while the lithe limbs of the marching men were in utter contrast to the broad chests and stalwart arms of the cavalry from the Pays de Vallon (the Walloon country).

66

After having witnessed this brilliant spectacle, it was not quite agreeable to us to be asked by our military acquaintance on the spot, Have you nothing of this kind in England, nothing but occasional reviews, involving a display lasting but a few hours, and presenting none of those details which make our annual camp at Beverloo a school of instruction for the soldier, and keep him during the summer fully equipped for service?"

In many English towns the sight of a soldier, with the exception of a recruiting-party, is a novelty, whereas every city in Belgium has its garrison, and at intervals a review, a bivouac, or an encampment draws the traveller from England to those plains which history has celebrated as the battle-ground of Europe.

In France and Belgium the whole routine of a soldier's life is carried on as though in perpetual preparation for war; and it is not too much to say, that many a hint has been gathered by military tourists from Continental camps and bivouacs, likely to be turned to good account in our own army. In a word, who shall say that the encampment on Chobham heath would ever have been formed, but for the splendid displays in Paris since 1852? And who shall deny the certainty of benefit to the soldier, when his dress and equipments shall be remodelled and better adapted than they are at present to the varied nature of clime and service in which it may be his lot to be engaged?

Those who visit Chobham must not come away with the belief that they have seen the soldier on service. They may there, indeed, have learned something of his duties, and gathered a general notion of actual warfare, but they can form no idea of his sufferings and privations when accoutred in heavy marching order under an Indian or an African sun. Oh for the light French shako in such marches, the small goat-skin pack slung on without