(_By Mr. Punch's Own Type-Writer._)
No. XI.--THE YOUNG GUARDSMAN.
[Illustration]
The Young Guardsman believes himself to be not only the backbone of the
British Army, its vital centre and support, but also its decorative
master-piece. Other officers, of whom the Guardsman is wont to speak
with a vague pity as belonging to "some line regiment," are not apt to
sympathise with him in this exalted estimate of his military position
and functions. They are accustomed to urge, that he is to the general
body of officers as gold lace is to the uniform he wears, a gaudy
ornament fashioned for show and useless for the practical work of the
military profession. Doubtless "these are the forgeries of jealousy,"
or, if true at all, they are true only for that limited period of the
Guardsman's existence, during which he pays more attention to his own
dressing than to that of his men, and imagines that the serious objects
of life are attained when he has raised the height of his collar by half
an inch, or invented a new fashion of transfixing a silk scarf with a
diamond pin. In fact it is during the first flush of his youth that he
displays those characteristics which have specialised the Guardsman
amongst the golden lads who afterwards come to the dust of middle-age
and a colonelcy.
It is by no means necessary that the Young Guardsman should enjoy an
aristocratic parentage, provided it be a wealthy one; nor is it
essential that he should have made his mark at school as a scholar, an
athlete, or a social success. Indeed, nothing is more common than to
hear a former school-fellow express himself in terms of derisive
amazement when he is informed that So-and-So is now in the Guards.
"What, _that_ scug?" he will observe with immeasurable contempt, and
will proceed to express his surprise how one who neither played cricket,
nor football, nor rowed to any purpose can possibly add distinction to
Her Majesty's Brigade of Guards. These observations, it should be said,
however disrespectful they may be towards a particular individual,
undoubtedly show a strong feeling of veneration for the repute of the
Guards in general. It must be added too that on his side the Young
Guardsman is not slow to repay, and in doing so to aggravate, the
contempt of the burly athlete who may have kicked him at school, and
towards whom he now assumes a lordly air of irritating patronage hardly
endurable, but not easily to be resented, by one who feels it to be
totally unwarranted.
The Guardsman, then, will have passed through school without emerging in
any way from the common ruck of ordinary boys. He will have left at a
comparatively early age in order that his education may no longer be
neglected, and will have betaken himself to the fostering care of one of
the numerous establishments which exist to prove that the private coach
_Codlin_ is superior to the public school _Short_. Hence, if his
abilities are exceptionally brilliant, he will have passed into
Sandhurst. Failing this, however, the Militia is a refuge and a
stepping-stone. In any case he will find himself in due time the owner
of Her Majesty's Commission and the largest head-dress in the British
Army. In short he will become a Guardsman in full bloom.
And now he begins to reap a plentiful harvest of easy social
distinctions, in the sowing of which he himself has borne no part. He
may be, though to be sure he is not always, the feeblest and most vapid
of created beings, but he will be none the less courted and flattered by
the numerous band who fix their eyes and their hearts on social position
without any regard to the particular atom of humanity by which it may
chance to be filled. Hostesses shower invitations upon him, he slides
easily into the membership of many Clubs both social and sporting,
tradesmen and money-lenders solicit with humility the supreme honour of
being his creditors, and all the world, as he counts it, smiles upon him
and is ready to make much of him. A man would require to be made of
exceptionally stern stuff not to yield to many of the temptations thus
spread before him, and the Young Guardsman, although he is as martial as
the occasional wearing of his uniform can make him, is by no means
stern. He yields, however, with an admirable grace, and although his
nationality and his profession both forbid him to display an excess of
enthusiasm, it may be said of him that he tolerates his pleasures and
does not despise the amusements for which a musketry course at Hythe or
an occasional encampment at Pirbright seems to give him an additional
zest.
He is often to be seen at dances, and although he does not dance much
and is not much of a dancer, it is impossible to complain of any lack of
vigour in his steps as he tears round the room with his partner in
double-quick time. Having done this he will descend to supper with a
young married lady whom he is temporarily honouring with his attentions,
and will impress her with the maturity of his views of the world. He
will hint to her that, after all, there is more to be said for _Don
Juan_ than is commonly supposed, and that "by Gad, a feller who chucks
away his chances when there are no end of 'em runnin' after him is a
fool dontcherknow, and you may tell 'em I said so." After he has
imparted this information he will re-conduct her upstairs, and will then
leave in a hansom preceded by a tall cigar, for which he has paid
half-a-crown.
At Maidenhead, too, on Sundays during the summer the Young Guardsman is
a conspicuous object. Robed in spotless flannels, with the Brigade
Colours round his straw hat and his neck, he may be seen propelling a
punt with much perseverance and some accuracy to Boulter's Lock and
back. Afterwards he will dine with the comfortable conviction that he
has had very violent exercise.
Of the Young Guardsman's dress much might be said. It is spotless and
careful and is evidently the result of deep thought. Yet, if a fault may
be hinted, it errs like his cigar on the side of exaggeration. A
frock-coat should fit well, but his is too tight. Fashion no doubt
demands that in the daytime a cascade of silk or satin should pour
itself into a lake of shirt-front, but the cascade need not be a Niagara
nor the lake an Ontario. It is true of course that at night no young man
who respects himself and values the opinion of his friends would dream
of wearing a white tie of any but the butterfly pattern. Still there are
butterflies and butterflies, and the Young Guardsman's model would seem
to be rather one of the huge tropical varieties than any known to our
northern climate. These, however, are but trifling defects which
scarcely detract from the shining and ornamental completeness of his
appearance.
It is remarkable how readily the Young Guardsman imagines himself to be
an adept in the mysteries of the turf. With a light heart and a heavy
betting-book he faces the hoary sinners who lay the odds. Nor is it
until he has lost more money than his father can well afford that he
discovers that the raw inexperience even of a Young Guardsman is
unequally matched against the cool head, and the long purse, of the
professional book-maker. In vain does he call in the aid of the venal
tipster. The result is always the same, and he returns home from every
race-meeting without ever, to use his own phrase, "getting home" at all.
Indeed, if they may be believed, the subalterns of "the Brigade" never
vary from a condition which they always describe as stony-broke.
A little later in his career the Young Guardsman will find himself
temporarily on the staff of a General appointed to command a force of
Volunteers during some Easter man[oe]uvres. He will wear a white belt,
the frock-coat of his undress uniform and a cocked hat, and will believe
himself to be a Staff officer. He will perform his duties not without
efficiency, but will scarcely take enough trouble to remove from the
minds of the Volunteers to whom he issues orders, that idea of patronage
which is to a rightly constituted Volunteer what a red rag is said to be
to a bull. Soon after this, a war having broken out in Africa, he will
volunteer for active service and will be accepted. Being after all a
young man of pluck and spirit, he will pass with distinction through the
hardships and dangers of the campaign. Amid the stern realities of the
bivouac and the battlefield his swagger and his affectations will
vanish. Returning home in this altered condition it is as likely as not
that he will marry, and having served his Queen with solid credit for
many years, will eventually retire with the rank of General and the
well-earned respect of all who know him.
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