nd faithful
troops were numbered off into different legions: there was the
Fleur-d'Orange regiment; the Eau-de-Rose battalion; the Violet-Pomatum
volunteers; the Eau-de-Cologne cavalry--according to the different
scents which they affected. Most of the warriors wore lace ruffles; all
powder and pigtails, as in the real days of chivalry. A band of heavy
dragoons under the command of Count Alfred de Horsay made themselves
conspicuous for their discipline, cruelty, and the admirable cut of
their coats; and with these celebrated horsemen came from England the
illustrious Duke of Jenkins with his superb footmen. They were all six
feet high. They all wore bouquets of the richest flowers: they wore
bags, their hair slightly powdered, brilliant shoulder-knots, and
cocked-hats laced with gold. They wore the tight knee-pantaloon of
velveteen peculiar to this portion of the British infantry: and their
legs were so superb, that the Duke of Bordeaux, embracing with tears
their admirable leader on parade, said, "Jenkins, France never saw such
calves until now." The weapon of this tremendous militia was an immense
club or cane, reaching from the sole of the foot to the nose, and
heavily mounted with gold. Nothing could stand before this terrific
weapon, and the breast-plates and plumed morions of the French
cuirassiers would have been undoubtedly crushed beneath them, had they
ever met in mortal combat. Between this part of the Prince's forces and
the Irish auxiliaries there was a deadly animosity. Alas, there always
is such in camps! The sons of Albion had not forgotten the day when the
children of Erin had been subject to their devastating sway.

The uniform of the latter was various--the rich stuff called
corps-du-roy (worn by Coeur de Lion at Agincourt) formed their lower
habiliments for the most part: the national frieze* yielded them
tail-coats. The latter was generally torn in a fantastic manner at the
elbows, skirts, and collars, and fastened with every variety of button,
tape, and string. Their weapons were the caubeen, the alpeen, and
the doodeen of the country--the latter a short but dreadful weapon of
offence. At the demise of the venerable Theobald Mathew, the nation had
laid aside its habit of temperance, and universal intoxication betokened
their grief; it became afterwards their constant habit. Thus do men ever
return to the haunts of their childhood: such a power has fond memory
over us! The leaders of this host seem