(_FROM OUR SPECIAL CORRESPONDENT AT THE AGRICULTURAL HALL._)
Need I say that I felt greatly gratified at finding myself attached
to the Victorian Volunteers. I had been present with them in spirit
at the banquets which had greeted their arrival to the Mother Country,
and now I was to have the advantage of actually appearing bodily in
their campaign at Islington. I knew the battle-field well. In years
gone by I had seen many a Balaclava _mêlée_, many a slicing of the
lemon, many a securing of the tent-peg. Nay, further, I had assisted
many a time at "the combined display," when, before a huge audience, a
presentment of war was produced, as unlike the real thing as anything
well could be. But, to return to the Victorians. As they appeared
in their neat uniforms, which included slouch hats, the hearts of a
noble people (represented by occupants of places from ten shillings
downwards) went out to them, and they were greeted with a mighty
shout. The English race recognised the service that was being done.
The Mother thanked her Child. Over the stormy sea had come the
soldiers of the Southern Cross to tell any Britons still remaining in
played-out Europe how war should be waged; how battles should be won.
The numbers of our gallant little body were small; still, we had
enough. Before our appearance "the country" had been arranged. In
the distance, near the southern entrance, were bushes; then, a little
nearer home, a second row; then, nearer still, a canvas erection
representing a fallen tree; then more bushes; and last, the door from
which we had emerged to receive the plaudits of the populace. First,
two of our number (after some slight hesitation) galloped (taking,
without much difficulty, the hedges on their way) towards the south.
They fired. In the meanwhile the rest of our body had dismounted, and
had buckled the forelegs of each horse so that it might not unduly
wander. This clever idea was nearly crowned with success. Then tents
were got out--without any hurry. They were pitched in a leisurely
fashion. Then the fire was lighted, also without flurry. The two
scouts now cantered back knocking over a bush on their way. Shots were
heard in the distance, and our camp was leisurely, very leisurely,
broken up. The tents were, with some difficulty, placed on the backs
of the horses, and most of our troopers mounted without serious
difficulty. One certainly was thrown, and another had to hold firmly
to his horse. Then we advanced. We again dismounted. One of our body,
after some negotiation, collected the reins of our horses. We fired,
and again leisurely mounted. Then our troopers hurried off.
And when the magnificent display was over, I could not help thinking
how good it was of these gallant Colonists to come so far that we
might learn so much. True, we had seen something a little like the
mounted infantry evolutions in the displays of our own light Hussars.
Again, soldiers have been known before this to pitch and strike
a tent. Still, it was deeply gratifying to find history repeating
itself, inasmuch, as in the Victorian evolutions there was no
difficulty in conjuring up the picture with the popular title, "The
Grandson teaching the Grandmother--how to suck eggs!"
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