troop, and of course it was contemplated, as is usual upon these occasions
amongst the subalterns of the army, previous to an engagement, that in
case of a warm contest there would be promotion. Mr. Dyke, or rather
Cornet Dyke, rode over early on the Wednesday following to Captain Astley,
to inform him of what had happened, and requested him to give an order for
the summoning of the troop, to muster on the following Tuesday; and the
place of rendezvous was fixed at the Cornet's house, as that was on the
road to Salisbury. The gallant Captain complied immediately, and the
orderly man was hurried off to inform the different members of the corps
in time, that they might be prepared and well equipped by the important
day; so that we had all of us nearly a whole week to ponder upon the
probable chances of the impending conflict. The whole week was spent in
surmises how it would all end; some longed for the fray, others, as I have
since understood, were preparing for the worst, and occupied their time in
settling their worldly affairs, so that making of wills was the best trade
going for that week. My father, who knew all the parties well, kept up his
spirits; for he at once confidently asserted that there would be no blood
spilt, while the troop was under the command of his neighbour, Captain
Astley; and he really carried his jokes so far, that I was sometimes
almost disposed to be angry myself. "Ah, my dear boy," he used to say, "it
is very well for you that our friend Carrington in gone to Berkeley
Castle; for if he were here he would laugh till his sides cracked to hear
what is going on." I demanded, why so? "Why," said he, "your gallant
Captain is run away already; he is _gone to Boreham_." The fact was, that,
as soon as Dyke had left the Captain, he called his favourite servant
_Douse_, without whose advice he never did any thing at that time, and
having related the object of Cornet Dyke's visit, he said, "What say you,
Douse, to this affair?" "Why," replied Douse, "Damn the Cornet! he is got
into the scrape, and let him get out of it himself in the best way he
can." Douse gave this advice more for the safety of his own carcase than
for the honour of his master; for Douse, who was the groom and the
constant attendant of the Captain, fancied that he himself began to smell
powder already; besides he knew his man well, and he knew that his advice
would be acceptable. He was right in his calculation; for the Captain,
drawing himself up, said, "Right, you are right, Douse! damn the fellow,
as you say, let him fight his own battles, and get out of his own scrapes,
as well as he can. But what shall I do, Douse? What excuse shall I
make?"--"O" says Douse, "order your carriage and go to Boreham, and then
you know you will be from home, and that will be a sufficient excuse." A
beam of pleasure sparkled in the Captain's eye, and he at once adopted the
faithful groom and valet's advice. He then wrote to Sir John Methuen
Poore, the Lieutenant, and honestly told him that, as he was not concerned
in Dyke's keeping up the price of his wheat, he should not attend at
Salisbury, as he was going to Boreham, where he had particular business.
Boreham was near Warminster, not more than 20 miles from Salisbury, and
Everly was 16 miles. However, it was soon buzzed about that the Captain
was from home, and that he _was gone to Boreham_--which was ever
afterwards a _byeword_ amongst the members of the troop when any one had
sneaked out of performing his duty; the exclamation then was, "he's gone
to Boreham!" Sir John Poore took the hint, and wrote to his friend Cornet
Dyke, to say that he had particular business that required his presence in
London, where he was going the next day. This desertion in the hour of
danger, of our Captain and our Lieutenant, flew like lightning through the
district, and I shall never forget my father when he related the latter
circumstance to me; he could not get it out for the life of him for
laughing. "However," said he, "you have got the Cornet left, and he is a
_prudent man_, and I'll warrant you there is no harm will come to any of
you."
At length the awful morning arrived, and by this time I really had imbibed
a great deal of my father's notion of the thing, and began to think that
it would, after all, turn out very little better than a hoax, or something
for the public to laugh at. I own I did not like the object of the
expedition much; neither did I relish the idea of going to draw my sword
upon a defenceless, unarmed multitude; but my father turned it all into
ridicule--he said we were only old-woman frighteners, and he quoted first
some farwell lines of Pope's Homer, addressed by Hector to Andromache,
before he went out to meet Achilles; then he quoted Hudibras, and then he
would give a few lines of the character of Falstaff, the then again of
Bobadil. The fatal day was, however, come, and I mounted in good time to
proceed to the rendezvous at our Cornet's house at Syrencot.[12] As I rode
along with some of my comrades, I could not avoid cracking a few jokes
about the nature of our expedition, and the unsoldier-like service on
which we were about to be employed. I shall never forget the serious or
rather gloomy appearance of my neighbour and friend, honest John Coward,
of Longstreet; his naturally long dark visage was extended to a more than
usual length, and the tender pathetic way in which he took leave of Jenny
at the door, as he mounted his charger, was a genuine specimen of the mock
heroic. At length he entreated me not to make fun of such a momentous and
solemn undertaking; then fetching a deep sigh, he said he prayed to God
that it might all end well, and that no lives might be lost. In this mood
we arrived in front of Mr. Cornet Dyke's house, where we found the horses
being led about of some few of the troop, who had got there before us.
Being invited to alight, and take some refreshment, we dismounted, and
gave our horses to the care of the men who were attending in considerable
numbers, for the purpose of walking them about while we regaled ourselves.
They were the _thrashers, carters_, and other _labourers_, of our Cornet,
and, as they well knew the errand upon which we were going, they eyed us
with no slight degree of suspicion and ill-will. We had to be sure lost
our _Captain_ and our _Lieutenant_, but we consoled ourselves with the
idea that we had got our Cornet safe; that he could not run away and leave
us in the lurch; although my friend Coward had thrown out some dark hints,
as we came along, by which it appeared to me that there was a hope in his
mind, that something _would yet turn up_, to prevent us from marching at
once to _danger_ and to _glory_; and I could see plainly enough that he
was quite willing to forego all the flattering rewards of the latter, if
he could only be sure of escaping from the former.
When we entered the house, we found such of our comrades as had arrived
before us, seated round a table, enjoying a handsome cold collation, which
was spread thereon for the occasion. There was cold ham, fowls tongue, &c.
&c. tea, coffee, wine and beer in great profusion; and, if I recollect
right, there were no less than three rooms furnished with the same
substantial proof of our Cornet's hospitality: so that, as he arrived,
each member of the troop was provided with a liberal allowance of good old
English cheer. This being the first time that our hero had ever given a
treat of any sort to the troop, it was hailed by some as an auspicious
omen; and I could not help observing, to my next neighbour at the table,
who was Mr. William Butcher, junior, that the brick-bats which had been
levelled at our Cornet's bead had at all events opened an avenue to his
heart. A general laugh was caused by this remark; though it drew on us a
reprimand from Butcher's uncle, who was a sergeant. I also observed to
Butcher, that my friend and neighbour, Coward, not only played a good
knife and fork, but did ample justice to the _Old October_. An unusual
flush about the gills shewed, indeed, that his blood was beginning to
circulate pretty rapidly, and by the time he had taken another glass or
two he began to talk big, and crack his jokes with the best of us. As some
of the party, in endeavouring to keep up their spirits, were already "half
seas over," Mr. Serjeant-major Pinkey now very properly interposed; and as
every one had taken what was at least quite sufficient, the things were
removed, and we began to look at our watches, which showed us that time
was gliding pretty quickly away, and that we ought to recommence our
march. On our entrance we had been desired by the servants to make
ourselves welcome, but our _Cornet_ had not yet made his appearance.
Having waited a considerable time, I took the liberty to ring the bell and
desire the servant to inform his master that we were all in readiness to
start, and waited only for our commander. Although generally speaking,
this was considered as very proper, yet some of the older members thought
it was very impertinent in _me_, who was a mere stripling at the time. The
servant went up stairs to deliver the message, but still we remained
without an answer; and my new acquaintance, William Butcher, having
whispered to me loud enough for many of our comrades to hear, "That he
should not be surprised to see our leader come forth by-and-by, like
Hamlet's Ghost, armed in complete steel," this was received by some with a
_smile_, by the more discreet with a _frown_. Still, however, no Cornet
appeared. At length, in spite of sour looks and rebukes, I rang the bell
once more, and begged the servant to let us know whether his master was
coming or not.
All my father's observations now came forcibly across my mind; I began to
thing that his quotations from Hudibras and Shakespeare had too much truth
in them; and I prepared myself for some extraordinary conduct on the part
of our Commander. It was well I did so, amazed indeed should I have been.
My last message had the desired effect. After we had been anxiously
waiting for more than an hour, the door at length opened, and in walked
the _Cornet_--but, instead of being dressed in _armour_, he had not even
got on his _regimentals_. To our utter astonishment, confusion and dismay,
instead of marching firmly forth armed "_cap-a-pe_" with nodding plume,
and his bright and trusty steel girt round his loins, eager for the fight;
lo and behold! he crept slowly and solemnly along, clad in a _long flannel
dressing gown and a pair of scarlet slippers_. Notwithstanding all my
father had prepared me for, this scene so far surpassed all that his
ridicule had anticipated, that I can solemnly aver that I had never before
felt such a sensation, and as I have never since felt any thing like it, I
am totally unable to describe my feelings. We were all struck motionless,
and every one, as he involuntarily rose, appeared to dart a look of eager
enquiry without being able to open his lips. The trembling ---- at length
broke silence, and in a faultering under tone he spoke, or rather whined
as follows:--"Gentlemen, I am very sorry for having kept you waiting so
long." One of the troop, who had been plying the Cornet's old stingo
pretty freely, interrupted him, in a voice as opposite to that of the
Cornet as the roaring of a cannon is to the chirping of a cricket, and
replied "Never mind, Sir, about any apology, but put on your regimentals
as fast as you can, or we shall get to Salisbury after all the mischief is
done." The Cornet proceeded--"I am very sorry, Gentlemen; it is very
unlucky; but, about three o'clock this morning, _I was suddenly seized
with such a violent pain in my bowels_, that Mrs. Dyke says it will be
very imprudent for me to leave the house _in my present state_, for fear
of catching cold; and in fact _I think so too_, and she insists upon it
that I shall not go with you."
In the midst of this affecting scene I too was seized suddenly, but in
rather a different way; for an appropriate couplet which my father had
repeated in the morning, and with which I was very angry then, now came so
forcibly across my memory, that not being able to suppress my feelings, I
burst out into what is vulgarly called a _horse laugh_; in which I was
joined by Butcher and some of my comrades. The poor Cornet, however,
pitiously proceeded, as well as a man could do with such a _twinging belly
ach_, and said, "That he really was very sorry for it; but as it could not
be helped now, he trusted that we would proceed under the command of
Serjeant-major Pinkney, and he was quite sure that we should conduct
ourselves in a manner that would do credit to the troop. He added that he
would send a servant with us, who would return and let him know how
matters stood, and in case his presence was absolutely necessary, he would
endeavour to come over to Salisbury in his carriage, _provided that Mrs.
Dyke would permit him to leave home_." Heaven and earth, here was a
catastrophe! I sincerely believe, if I had not been an eye witness of this
transaction, that I should have thought to this hour that some of the
characters drawn by Shakespeare were ridiculously absurd and unnatural;
but this scene in real life so far exceeded any thing I had ever seen
represented upon the stage, that I have never since disputed the
correctness of our inimitable bard, in his conceptions of human nature,
and the justice with which he has delineated its various characters.
_Squire Dyke_ now returned up stairs to his inconsolable lady, and his
amiable anxious family; and having mounted our chargers we marched off
towards Salisbury, with the _gallant Serjeant-major_ at our head. As we
rode along, or rather marched two a-breast, my comrade was Mr. William
Butcher of Urchfont, with whom I that day contracted an intimacy which
lasted as long as we remained together in the same county, and which was
continued by a friendly intercourse up to the period of his premature
death a few years back. We were passing Bulford, about two miles before we
reached Amesbury, when we observed the Serjeant-major and Butcher's uncle,
who was another Serjeant, in deep and serious conference, upon which I
exclaimed, by G-d, Butcher, your uncle and Pinkney are holding a council
of war; and I will bet my life that some new difficulty will arise, so as
after all to prevent our marching to the scene of action. I had scarcely
spoken the words before our _then Commander_ fell back, and joined myself
and Butcher, who were heading the troop next to the officers: and Pinkney
addressed me as follows:--"We have been considering the matter over, Hunt,
and Butcher thinks that we are proceeding not only upon a hazardous but a
very foolish expedition; for he says that, as there is no commissioned
officer with us, any act of ours will, in the eye of the law be deemed
illegal. What say you to this?" Having given the wink to my friend, I
replied as follows:--"I believe that Serjeant Butcher is quite right as to
his law, and that in case any person should be killed, there is no doubt
but we shall every man Jack of us be tried for murder. But, if you ask my
opinion. I am for proceeding immediately; for we had much better be _tried
and hanged_ to boot, than live to be pointed at as fools and cowards for
the remainder of our days." "Ah!" exclaimed Serjeant Butcher, "that is
very pretty talking for you, young fellow; but we are too old to be caught
_tripping_ (I suppose he meant _swinging_) in such a way. We have made up
our minds to _halt_ at Amesbury, where we will dine; and in the mean time
we will send over Mr. Dyke's servant to Salisbury, and should there be any
_riot_ he can return and let us know, and we can quickly be there, as
Amesbury is only seven miles from thence." He likewise very prudently
observed, that "it would be exceedingly foolish to march there to create a
riot, when, by staying away, all danger or mischief might be avoided."
As the council of war had settled[13] the business, all my sarcastic
observations merely tended to irritate, without the least chance of
changing their final determination; and we, therefore, gallantly marched
into Amesbury, where, having halted in front of Mrs. Purnell's house, the
sign of the George and the Dragon, our commander gave the word for the
landlady to advance, from whom he boldly demanded, whether she thought
that she could provide beef steaks for sixty in half an hour, as the troop
could not halt longer than an hour, they being extremely anxious to reach
Salisbury. Mrs. Purnell, who was an excellent landlady, as well as an
excellent woman, was too good a judge of business to turn away such a
spanking order; with an engaging smile she replied, that she could hardly
undertake to supply us all with beef steaks, but that, if we would
dismount, she would do the best she could. The offer was hailed and
accepted without further ceremony, and every man got as good a birth for
his horse as circumstances would admit. Another council of war was then
called, and another very grave question was discussed with all the
solemnity of a camp scene, immediately preceding a battle. This momentous
question was, how much each man should be allowed to drink after dinner,
and, on due deliberation, it was at length resolved, and proclaimed aloud,
that every one might take what beer he liked at dinner, but that no person
should take more than a pint of wine after dinner. The reader will
recollect that we had only marched about _three miles and a half since we
had all taken such an EXHILIRATING luncheon at our Cornet's house._
At the expiration of an hour the steaks were pronounced to be ready, and
we all fell to without ceremony. Mrs. Purnell at that time brewed her own
ale, which was very different from the nauseous and deleterious trash that
is now supplied to such houses by those common pests of society, _common
brewers_. As many of the young farmers belonging to the troop had not got
rid of the effects of what they had taken at their luncheon, they plied
the tankard of good old nappy freely with their dinner; so much so,
indeed, that before the cloth was removed there were never less than eight
or ten talking loud at a time; and, long before each man had finished half
a bottle of wine, three-fourths of the troop were drunk. The following
scene ensued. Two of the gallant heroes, being deprived of the chance of
making war upon the old women and boys at Salisbury, who had the week
before pelted their Cornet, actually stripped and had a pitched battle.
All command was at an end. The Serjeant-major fruitlessly endeavoured to
call them to order; they were all now become too vain and too valiant to
be under the controul of any one. Some had mounted their horses, and swore
that they would immediately proceed to Salisbury, as they were sure Dyke's
servant was killed, or he would have returned long, before; others were
grinding their swords; and one, having more courage or more wine aboard
than the rest, was actually seen setting his weapon upon the hone of the
barber of the place. But as the servant of Cornet Dyke had now returned,
to say that it was all peaceable, and no chance of a riot, some of the
party actually proposed to march over to Salisbury, to shew that they were
not _afraid_. As there was _no danger_, and the major part of the troop
were three parts drunk, it only required a CAPTAIN BIRLEY to lead them on,
and a SQUIRE HULTON to give the word, to have caused a scene in which,
though it would not have been equal in atrocity and cruelty to the murders
of the 16th of August, at Manchester, the blood of innocent and unarmed,
although misled persons, might, and in all human probability would have
been spilt. However, by the advice of myself and a few other, who had
retained our senses, and who felt degraded in our own estimation by the
whole of these proceedings, the Serjeant-major ordered all present to be
dismissed, and each to depart to his home in the best way he could. This
was done, but the whole of this little town of Amesbury was thrown into
confusion by the drunken and ridiculous proceedings of some of the men
before they left it--and thus ended the battle, that was to have been, of
Salisbury!
I returned to my father thoroughly abashed and ashamed of the transaction;
but, when I related to him the account of the _belly-ach and long faced,
dressing-gown scene_, I really thought he would have cracked his sides
with laughing; and, as I had entered the troop against his wish and better
judgment, he did not spare me in some of his remarks. "And now," said he,
"young man, I hope you will another time be more disposed to attend to the
advice of your father, who has lived so many years longer than yourself,
and has been thereby enabled to form a much more correct judgement of
mankind than you can possibly do." "But," added he, "that wisdom which is
gained by experience is always the most lasting, and generally the most
advantageous, so that it be not purchased too dear." I own I did not
profit so much as I ought to have done by the sound advice of such an
excellent father; but, as he used frequently to say, as an excuse for any
indiscretion of mine, produced from the enthusiasm of my disposition,
"Well, it cannot be helped; there is no putting old heads upon young
shoulders." This was not only very liberal in him, but perfectly true; and
the wise Supreme has very properly ordained that it should be so. I have,
however, never ceased to regret my own imprudence and folly in not
listening more attentively to the kind advice and prudent admonition of
one who was so capable and so anxious to bestow it upon me.
I had now been labouring incessantly in my avocations on my father's farms
for five years, in acquiring a competent knowledge of and clear insight
into the farming business; and I must say that my father was at all times
fully disposed to give me credit for my exertions. This season I had taken
upon myself to make one of five mowers who cut down all my father's spring
corn, consisting of very little short of three hundred acres of barley and
oats. It being a perfectly fine harvest season, we had not, the whole
time, one day sufficiently wet to stop mowing; and on a Saturday night it
was all down, with the exception of one piece of oats, consisting of
seventeen acres and a half; a very heavy crop growing upon newly broken or
burn-baked ground. On Saturday night I proposed to my partners that we
should make an effort to cut down this piece of oats on the Monday,
although it lay three miles and a half from home, adjoining Everly field.
This was thought to be an impracticable undertaking; each, however,
promised to be there by four o'clock in the morning, and to start from
home as the clock struck three. As it would take an hour to walk three
miles and a half with the scythes on their backs, it was agreed that they
should carry my scythe, and that I should bring the bottles and bag upon
my poney.
On the Sunday I was engaged to dine and pass the day at Heytesbury, a
distance of nearly twenty miles from my father's house, where I was going
to meet a young lady, who was on a visit there, and to whom I was
betrothed, without the consent of my father. How this betrothing came
about I must now inform my readers. I had often heard my father speak in
very high terms of Miss Halcomb, the daughter of his old acquaintance, Mr.
Wm. Halcomb, who kept the Bear Inn at Devizes, well known to be one of the
very best inns between London and Bath, which inn had been previously kept
by the late Mr. Lawrence, the father of the present Sir Thomas Lawrence,
who I believe was born there. My father was always talking to my sisters
in praise of the industry and the accomplishments of this young lady,
particularly when any thing was not quite so well managed as it ought to
be; he would then exclaim, "Ah! How much better Miss Halcomb would have
done it!" My eldest sister used sometimes to reply, rather petulantly,
"Why do you not invite this lady to come and see us? perhaps I should then
be enabled to acquire some of her talent to please." "Well," said my
father one day, "I have no objection. You shall ride with me to-morrow,
and call upon her, and I will then invite Mr. Halcomb to bring his
daughters and return the visit." My sister agreed to this, and, as she
herself told me, she was prepared to dislike this lady, merely because my
father had so often made such severe comparisons, that she had almost
become a bugbear to her. Not so with me; I was already half in love with
her from my father's description, although I had never seen her; and upon
their return was eager to know when we should have the pleasure of seeing
her and her family. The day, however, was not fixed at that time; but a
remarkable circumstance ultimately produced the so much longed-for
interview with this young lady, and I own I had made up my mind secretly
to admire her person, as much as from my father's description, I admired
her good qualities. Had my father but even slightly guessed what was
working in my breast, he would never have invited Miss Halcomb to
Littlecot; he having a much higher object in view for his son, both as to
fortune and rank.