read the “Times” on the morning of the 26th October, 1803, for fifty-seven years makes awful gaps in households. Still, there may be some who remember being told to read out with proper emphasis and due discretion the Leading Article of the day. Those who did so read as follows:
“This day will offer one of the noblest and most exhilarating spectacles that can possibly be exhibited to an honest and patriotic Briton.”
And the now aged reader may recollect that, after some manly and thoughtful remarks upon the subject of the national demonstration, the writer proceeds to say:
“If that Presumptuous Man, Bonaparte, could see the sight, what an awful lesson he might learn.”
But he could not see it, and would not learn it in print, and so we had to beat it into him for several years thence following; and having made the final impression upon him about this time of year in 1815, we permitted him to con it over in privacy and comfort for the rest of his life. It was a chivalrous way of treating a foul and bloody-minded burglar; and it may be a question whether, in the interests of humanity, similar treatment of a similar criminal, should such a one arise, will be held to be just. However, on with our notes.
The “Times” of that day is not a large paper. Four sides only; and though a respectable sheet, not an imposing one. It has but fifty-nine advertisements. They are not lively. The Two Original Invisible Girls are announced as included in the Grand Saloon of Arts and Illustrious Men, Wigley’s Royal Promenade Rooms, Spring Gardens. Admission to the invisibilities, half-a-crown by day, three shillings at night; so that they might have been spirits like those of the Rapping Jugglers, and performed best in the dark. Mr. Richardson, at the hotel under the Little Piazza, Covent Garden, killed a fine green turtle that day, doubtless for the Volunteers. A person of Character and Connexions (with some interest) wanted to meet a gentleman desirous to retire from office. Honour, secrecy and 5000l. are among the advertiser’s qualifications. I wonder what came of it. Instead of the column of close print in which all sorts of nobodies proclaim their conjugal and funeral happinesses, there is but a single announcement of a marriage. “Miss Deacon, of Wiggan Hall, near Watford,” is married. I trust she has had a happy life. There is a second leading article, containing very sensible counsel as to what we should do with Domingo, when the French were expelled. Then we have the little bits of news. Firing has been heard at Deal Preparations were being made for a Secret Expedition, and Dr. Addington had had a long interview with Lord St. Vincent. The rest of the paper is occupied chiefly with Volunteer news of all kinds, and a very mercilessly long address to the force: the writer, “Edgar,” taking immense pains to prove to them that Bonaparte really means to come. It is explained, I am happy to say, that the Chelsea Pensioners have plenty of prayers read to them, though the contrary had been maliciously stated. Commendation of a tradesman’s club at Dover, for drinking toasts in ridicule of Mr. Cobbett, and for burning his books; and a paragraph thanking God that neither the King nor the people want a Minister from Brookes’s or Newmarket, and that a man might have talents (contrary to Jacobin notions) without being a swindler or a sharper: mark the departing age of personalities, and curiously contrast with the honourable and manly tone of the paper generally. This was the “Times” of Volunteer-day, 1803; and when I have added that it notices with approbation the performance of “Henry V.,” at Covent Garden, overnight, the patriotic character of the play, and John Kemble’s acting being its principal merits—and, for the further delectation of theatrical readers, have said that at Drury Lane that night were performed the “Marriage Promise” (Lethe is a brave river), and “Fortune’s Frolic” (which survives), and that at Covent Garden there was the opera of the “Cabinet,” with Mr. Braham, and the “Irish Widow,” I may come on to my notes of the Review.
No, no—one thing more. Will not the ladies like to know that the “Riding Habits of that day were made with military stomachers”? which is described as a just “compliment from the Fair to those who defend them.” The Italics are those of the compositor of 1803, who, I suppose, has long since ceased to “justify.”
And now for the story of the Review of so many of the 379,945 Volunteers as could be brought into Hyde Park in that memorable October.
As early as seven o’clock several of the corps entered the Park at the Grosvenor and Hyde Park Corner Gates. By eight o’clock all the corps stood assembled in close column of companies, in and behind the right of its own ground. A quarter-master, with the camp colour-men of each corps, was on the ground at seven, and one of them belonging to each corps attended at the different gates to conduct his regiment to its proper point. As the corps proceeded to their different stations, each marched with its right in front, so that when it arrived at the proper point the right division stood on the ground it was to occupy in the line, and the other divisions were in close column behind it. The advantage of this arrangement was, that all the corps could, without the slightest confusion, deploy into line as soon as the signal was given. Soon after nine o’clock, a signal gun, a 12-pounder, was fired, and the general line was formed by deploying to the left. The line was formed at close ranks. The ranks were then extended, and the officers advanced in front. The corps that had guns stationed them on their right. The deploying into line, the forming close ranks, and the subsequent opening of the ranks, were executed with the greatest precision.
The Earl of Harrington, who commanded the line, was on the ground by eight, as were Major Generals Finch, Burrard (do you remember
Sir Arthur and Sir Harry, Sir Harry and Sir Hugh,
Sing, cock-a-doodle, cock-a-doodle, cock-a-doodle-doo;
Sir Arthur was a gallant knight, but for the other two,
Sing, cock-a-doodle, cock-a-doodle, cock-a-doodle-doo?)
