Time changes both defences and amusements. Now we have volunteer reviews
in place of old yeomanry weeks. But it is worth while looking back on
what was so hearty, quaint, humorous, and stirring in times bygone.
Beasts as well as men had their day in the past. The tramp of horses,
their brisk neigh, and the flourish of their long tails added to the
general attraction. The coats of the Yeomen, too, were of the most
sanguinary red. And there were other charms. The calling out of the
troop for ten days involved a muster from all the county for twelve or
fifteen miles round. There was thus an inroad of country friends. The
genial system of billeting was in vogue, too, so that every bed was
full. And allies and satellites called in, in happy succession, to share
the bustle and glee. A company of respectable theatrical stars,
patronized both by officers and privates, visited the town; and a
wonderfully brilliant yeomanry ball, attended alike by gentle and
simple, wound up the successful interlude in ordinary life.
The little town of Priorton spruced itself up for its yeomanry weeks,
and was all agog, as it never was at any other time. The campaign
commenced by the arrival on horseback of a host of country gentlemen and
farmers, in plain clothes as yet. But they carried at their saddle-bows,
packages containing their cherished ensigns and symbols--in their case
the very glory of the affair. Along with these in many cases came
judicious presents of poultry and game.
There were such hand-shakings in the usually quiet streets, such
groomings of horses at stables behind old-fashioned little taverns, such
pipe-claying of belts and polishing of helmets, and, above all, such
joyous anticipatory parties in private houses!
The season was always the height of the summer, not perhaps in every
respect the best for such a muster. Stout Yeomen had even been known to
faint while at drill; the combined influences of the fatigue, the heat,
and last night's hilarity being too much for them. But farmers and
farming lairds could well quit their lands unless in the beginning of
July, when the June hoeing of turnips and beans had been got through,
the first grass cut, and while there was still a good three weeks before
barley-harvest. Trees were then dusky in their green, and gooseberries
and currants tinted the Priorton gardens with rich amber and crimson.
Roses redder than the yeomen's coats were in full flower for every
waistcoat and waistband. The streets and roads were dusty, under blue
skies or black thunderclouds; but the meadows were comparatively cool
and fresh, and now white with the summer snow of daisies. The bustle of
the Yeomen, like the trillings of wandering musicians, was heard only in
the brooding heat of summer afternoons, or the rosy flush of summer
sunset, the prime of the year lending a crowning charm to their advent.
It was a delightful start, that first réveillée of the bugle at five of
the clock on a July morning. Youngsters whom nought else could have
tempted out of bed so early darted up at the summons. They envied papas
and uncles, brothers and cousins in the ranks of the Yeomen. Comely
blooming young faces joined the watch at the windows. Cloaks were
loosely cast about rounded shoulders, and caps were hastily snatched up
to hide dishevelled hair; while little bare pink feet would sometimes
show themselves. But the young ladies only peeped out behind the window
curtains, in the background of the noisy demonstrative band of
youngsters.
Distant voices, excited and impatient, were soon heard; then the jingle
of spurs, and the clank of swords, as half-bashful Yeomen descended the
stairs for their _début_ in the street. At last appeared important
familiar persons, now strikingly transformed by their martial dress, but
terribly uncomfortable and self-conscious.
The horses were led to the doors, and to the women who stayed at home
the mounts were the exquisitely comic incidents of the day. The return
of the members of the troop, now broken to their work, and detached into
groups of threes and fours, and chatting and laughing at their ease, was
quite tame in comparison. The country gentlemen and farmers were, of
course, generally well used to the saddle, and could get upon their
Bucephaluses without difficulty, and ride cavalierly, or prick briskly
out of sight, as they were in good time or too late. But here and there
a solicitor or banker, or wealthy shopkeeper, ambitious of being among
the Yeomen, would meet with unhappy enough adventures. He might be seen
issuing from his doorway with pretended unconcern, but with anxious
clearings of the throat and ominously long breaths, while his nag,
strange to him as John Gilpin's, was brought up to the mounting-place.
The worthy man would plant his foot in the stirrup next him, but, not
throwing himself round decidedly enough, the horse would swerve and
rear, while he looked on beseechingly and helpless. Then he would try
the other side, still failing to swing himself into the saddle. He would
grow more and more flustered. His wife, in her clean muslin cap and
spotless calico wrapper, with her little lads and lasses--one, two,
three--would then step out on the pavement to give cautious advice. The
would-be Yeoman would become more and more nervous, while his comrades
rode by with jeering glances, and the passengers stood still. Little
boys would begin to whoop and hurrah, and a crowd, even at this early
hour, would gather round to enjoy the experiment. "Hey, Nancy! get me a
kitchen chair," the town-bred Yeoman at last would say in desperation to
his elderly commiserating maid-servant in the distance; and from that
steady halfway stand he would climb into the saddle with a groan, settle
himself sack fashion, and, working the bridle laboriously with his arms,
trot off, to return very saddle-sick.
Then some stubborn young fellow, possessed with the notion of showing
off a dashing horse, would insist on riding a vicious, almost dangerous
animal, which would on no account endure the sight of his flaming
regimentals on the occasions of his mountings and dismountings. Once in
the saddle, he would master it thoroughly, and pay it back in kind with
whip and spur, compelling the furious beast to face a whole line of red
coats, and wheel, march, charge, and halt, with perfect correctness. But
the horse would have its moment of revenge as its rider leapt to and
from the saddle. If it encountered the scarlet and the glitter of brass
and steel, at that instant it would get quite wild, paw the air, fling
out its hoofs, snort and dart off wildly, to the danger of its own and
its master's life. But the young soldier would not be beat. Day after
day the contest would be renewed. At length he would resort to a
compromise, and his groom would bring out the animal with its head
ignominiously muffled in a sack; and now the Yeoman would mount with
comparative safety.
But the bugle is sounding to drill in the early summer morning.
Tra-li-la! the clear music suits with the songs of the birds and the dew
on the grass. The last lagging Yeoman is off, gone to receive a public
reprimand from his strict commanding officer, but sure to have the
affront rubbed out next morning by a similar fault, and a similar
experience, on the part of a comrade.
The drill ends at the common breakfast hour, when the Yeoman may be
supposed to return and feast sumptuously. Then "civil" work commences.
Yeomen who had offices or shops, attended them with slight relics of
their uniform. A stranger might have been pardoned had he imagined an
invasion was daily expected, or that an intestine war was on the point
of breaking out. In consideration of the hot weather, undress uniform
was permitted on all save field days, and thus the toiling Yeomen
enjoyed a little cool in their white ducks and jackets, though the red
mark, the helmet's line, was still to be traced on their sun-browned
foreheads.
There was an afternoon's drill. It was a little of a fag, being in fact
rather like a dish heated up a second time, as a duty twice done mostly
always is. But the evening was particularly gay. Then the Yeomen were
supposed to be enjoying themselves. Pleasant, if they had always enjoyed
themselves in an innocent fashion. That many of them did so, it is only
charitable to believe. And while the fast and foolish, the gross and
wicked were swilling and roystering in evil localities, the generous,
manly, gentle souls gratified the matrons with whom they were billeted
by walking with them and their daughters through the streets, or into
the nearest meadow; or perhaps they treated them to the play.
I have only heard of those days. But I should have liked to have seen
the bluff kind faces above the stiff stocks and scarlet coats, and the
joyous smiles which shone upon them. I should have liked to have heard
the quiet town ringing with such blithe laughter. Little jokes would
cause the people to laugh, as little accidents would cause them to shake
their heads. Sandy Hope's horse, for instance, lost a shoe while at the
gallop, stumbled, and threw its rider, dislocating his shoulder, and
breaking his arm. What a sensation the news created! It could scarcely
have been greater even though Sandy's brains had been dashed out. Not
only Sandy himself, but Sandy's kindred to the remotest degree, were
deeply commiserated. The commanding officer sent his compliments every
morning with inquiries after him. The troop doctor was besieged by
anxious acquaintances. Sandy's comrades never ceased calling upon him,
and sat for hours drinking beer at his open window. Delicious messes and
refreshing drinks a thousand times better than beer, were sent to Sandy.
Then the nosegays, the books he got! Sandy received a perfect ovation.
It was even proposed that the ball should be put off because Sandy was
lying in pain; and it was certain that no fewer than three reputed
sweethearts of Sandy's stayed at home on the ball night. Yet the stupid
fellow was so slightly hurt, that within the fortnight he was walking
the streets of Priorton more briskly than ever!
Priorton was kindly in its gaiety, and each had an interest in the
other. I should have liked to have known the old town when it was thus
given up for ten days, half to military exercises, half to fraternity
and feasting. I should have been sorry when the feasting was
intemperate, but I would no more have condemned the general feasting
because of that circumstance, than I would condemn the gift of speech
because some of us are so left to ourselves as to tell lies or say bad
words.