It was nightfall. A rousing fire was burning in the guard-room, through the window of which I could perceive a group of soldiers seated around, some smoking, some eating, others talking and laughing, more or less.
I saw a slightly-built, gentlemanly looking figure at the door.
“Corporal of the guard,” shouted the sentry, and that functionary instantly appeared. “This young fellow wants for to join the reg’ment.”
“This way, my lad,” said the corporal; and forthwith he entered the guard-room.
Presently he came out, and I never saw him again. I learned, however, that the next day an old limb of the law hunted him up, and induced him to give up his intention of enlisting, and made all things pleasant with the Queen’s Bays by leaving them a golden medal of their mistress.
It was my turn now. I walked in.
“Well, my hearty,” said one of the soldiers, “come up to the roast,” as he made way for me to be seated near him. The corporal cast his eye from my head to my feet as I neared the light.
“Not big enough, nor never will be,” he said, folding his arms.
The standard of dragoon guards at that period (more than twenty years ago) was not less than six feet for full grown, or five feet ten inches for growing lads whose appearance indicated that they would attain the desired height ere they had left off growing. I was under five feet seven, and was at once pronounced as “never likely to be a six-foot man,” and therefore not eligible for their regiment; however, the corporal said I could sleep in barracks that night, if I thought proper, and he would introduce me to the recruiting sergeant of another regiment—then in the town—on the following day. To this I consented; and the guard orderly escorted me to one of the barrack-rooms, in which there were eight beds ranged side by side.
The bedsteads were of iron, and the beds stuffed with straw. To one of these I was shown as belonging to one of the men on guard and therefore vacant. There was an air of snug comfort in the room that contrasted favourably with the cold blustering wind outside. A good fire was burning in a large grate, the white belts, black sabretaches, and burnished scabbards hung around the room and glittered in the fire light. The carbines were neatly arranged in the “rack” with a bone “snapper” in each hammer—placed there in lieu of the flint—for the new percussion-caps were not in use at that period. The uniforms—scarlet coats with swallow-tails, and brass shoulder-scales—were neatly wrapped up and piled with the kit and spare clothing upon a shelf over each man’s bed. The men were apparently as happy as a family—some were smoking and chatting, one was reading a newspaper, another writing a letter, and one, a “mounted orderly” just come in from a long ride, was busy cooking two herrings for his supper.