The illustration that accompanies this chapter gives the present costume of the three regiments of Foot Guards—a scarlet tunic, lately introduced, with blue facings, white cross-belt and waist-belt, and black trousers, with a scarlet cord down the seams in winter, and white in summer. When in full dress, the whole wear bearskin caps, but each regiment has distinctive ornaments on the collar of the tunic, etc.; and when in undress, the men belonging to each may be distinguished by the band round the cap—the Grenadier Guards wearing a red band, the Coldstream Guards a white band, and the Scots Fusiliers a band chequered with red and white.
The two regiments of Life Guards and the Royal Horse Guards all wear corselets—consisting of a breast-plate and back-piece—and helmets of polished steel, with breeches, sword-belts, cross-belts, and gauntlets of white leather. They are, however, to be distinguished by the colour of their coats, and the plume that they wear in their helmets—the Life Guards being clad in scarlet coats, and having white plumes, while the Horse Guards wear blue coats, and scarlet plumes. They are all armed alike, with sword and rifled carbine, and carry pistols in the holsters of their saddles, which are covered with white sheep-skin for the Life Guards, and black sheep-skin for the Horse Guards Blue. In undress the former wear a scarlet shell-jacket with blue facings, while the latter wear a blue shell-jacket with scarlet facings. The cap—black, with a scarlet band—is the same for each regiment.
Apropos of this subject, it may not be generally known that the First Royals, or First (Royal) Regiment of Foot, are a corps of Foot Guards by regimental tradition, if not by authority from the Horse Guards.
The writer of this chapter once knew an old Devonshire pensioner, John Sculley by name, who belonged to the “Fust Ry-uls,” as he used to style his old regiment, who had fought in almost every one of the principal battles of the Peninsular war, and had escaped without a scratch.
“John,” I would sometimes say to the old fellow, as he stood leaning on his spade, “what regiment did you belong to?”
“Why, Sponshus Pilut’s Guards, to be sure,” he would curtly reply. “I’ve told ’ee so often enough, I reckon.”
“No, I think not. But Pontius Pilate’s Guards—what a queer title! Why in the world were you called so?”
“Why, you see, the ridg’ment was raised in Sponshus Pilut’s time, and that’s how us got the name.”
And this he implicitly believed.