MILITARY INTELLIGENCE.
THE excitement caused by General Punch's reviews has by no means abated. That gallant and distinguished officer seems determined that the troops in his district shall not be much, if at all, behind those who, at Chobham or elsewhere, have more favourable opportunities of attaining perfection in discipline. The Chamomile Scrubs—the scene of the reviews—are daily thronged with numerous spectators, who, though they generally arrive when there is nothing to see, and go back again in the wet, never appear to be disappointed, but, on the contrary, return in perfect good humour.
A more than usual number of persons assembled yesterday, in the expectation of seeing something grand, a rumour having got abroad that it was the intention of the General to call out the Brook Green Militia (which distinguished corps, in consequence of the recent augmentation, now numbers nearly two file and a half), and to brigade them with the Queen's Piebalds. It was said, too, that the forces thus brought together would be separated as two divisions, and occupy respectively the Scrubs and Starch Green, and that a sham fight would take place. But the idea (if ever entertained) was abandoned—for what reason we cannot say, as we do not happen to know—these things being kept in profound mystery: but we are informed that a sergeant is under arrest, and will probably be "smashed" for having said that the ground on Starch Green was too stiff for the Piebalds. Such an atrocious attempt at a joke will meet with little sympathy from our readers, and we doubt not the offender will meet with his deserts, though, after all, perhaps, the idea was given up on that ground. The Piebalds, having sole possession of the Scrubs, went through their evolutions with their accustomed precision. The "brilliancy" of the movements was somewhat abated in consequence of General Punch having ordered "field exercise" instead of "marching order." But those who have any regard for our gallant defenders will, we are sure, willingly give up "glittering helmets," &c., for anything that may conduce to their comfort. We subjoin a letter which has come into our hands, which will show that the privates are subjected to privations and moving accidents in peace as well as war—in barracks as well as in the field:—
To Lieutenant Whiffin, Royal South-South-East-Middlesex Dun Browns.
"Dear Whiffin,—I must tell you how we have been going on. Old Punch has been working us up in fine style—four field days a week, and riding drill on the off days; besides practising pitching tent in the afternoon in the barrack yard. However, he is such a jolly old fellow, that we don't mind a little extra work for him. One thing he has done which we are particularly thankful for. He lets us go to his reviews in field exercise instead of marching order.
"Young Green of ours says he considers it a personal favour. You know he swapped helmets with Captain Wideawake when he (Wideawake) went up to the Duke's funeral, and has never been able to get his own back since. Wideawake is always 'so busy he can't give it him now.' The consequence is, that W.'s helmet rolls about on Green's head like 'anything,' especially at a trot, and the scales are so long that he's obliged to keep his mouth open all the field day to keep it on his head. So that it's fortunate for him that he's only been a serrefile as yet. If he were to lead a troop he would have some difficulty in giving the word of command. Some recruits only recently dismissed have a similar difficulty to brave.
"I got my troop last Tuesday, which I suppose you saw in the Gazette; and as the General wants the captains to get up the names of all the men in the troop, and the number of all the horses, I've got the troop-roll from Sergeant-Major, and am getting it off by heart. I had a 'law-suit' the other day. Private Grumble reported the bread, but as he was not supported by the other men, I put him down easily. The fact is, he's not much liked by the rest of the men in the troop. He used to be looked up to as a 'schollard,' but has lost ground lately, owing to a singular circumstance. A letter appeared in the Ballymucky Reporter, signed 'Miles,' and Sergeant-Major tells me that Grumble wrote a letter in reply, and signed himself 'Two miles,' and was informed in the answers to correspondents, in the next number, that he was an ass. All the men saw it, and Grumble got laughed at for his 'law.' I am very glad the men have lost faith in him, as Captain Chum told me he was always boring about fractions and the price of shaving brushes. As the General wants us to know all about straps and buckles, and packing valise, &c., I told Sergeant-Major I would look at one yesterday. So Private Muscles was ordered to show; but as his highlows were at the shoemaker's, and forage cap at the tailor's, and the rest of the valise was filled with two sheets and a bolster, I didn't get much information from him. The Sergeant-Major said I had better order him a week's marching order, and make him show kit in the afternoon. Which I did, as I thought it better to do what the Sergeant-Major said. I looked at the kit in the afternoon. Such a kit, Whiffin, you never saw. The Sergeant-Major 'shook up' everything, and found that the fellow had actually got a wisp of hay rolled up in a helmet-bag to represent a shirt, and his 'drors,' as he called them, would, I verily believe, reach from my quarters to the riding-school. Sergeant-Major says he's always late for morning stables in winter because his drawers are so full of holes he can't get into them till a candle is lighted. I hope all this 'private' information won't bore you, but I have really had no time lately to go to town and see any of our old haunts. Besides, the General says we must take an interest in this sort of thing, in order to study the 'comforts of the men.'
"Good-bye for the present, old fellow. I shall let you know how we're getting on from time to time.
"Yours truly,
"John Snaffles, Queen's Piebalds.
"P.S.—I've released Muscles and given him a new kit, on the condition that he won't get drunk for a month. You know our match with all Hammersmith comes off in three weeks, and it wouldn't do to have him away then—he's a capital long-stop. By the bye, you must contrive to have a pain in the side, or some urgent business with your legal adviser about that time, as we can't get any one to bowl in your place.—J.S."