he half-dozen regiments had overthrown them. Mr.
Pickwick was upset. Winkle received a bloody nose, after performing a
compulsory _somerset_; then, at the same moment--wonder of wonders--we
were told that the regiments were "half-a-thousand yards off,"--that is
about a third of a mile away--all in a second! It is hard to understand
why they were so maltreated. The soldiers would, of course, never have
met; and in our own time the amenities of a Review and the police would
have secured stray civilians from such rough treatment. We do not know
whether the evolutions described were accurate--such as "one rank firing
over the heads of another and then running away."

It was to this exciting spectacle that old Wardle brought a party in that
wonderful Barouche of his--which is really phenomenal for its
accommodation. When Mr. Pickwick recovered his hat, he found these
persons in the carriage:--1, Wardle; 2, a daughter; 3, a second ditto; 4,
a sister; 5, Trundle; 6, Tupman; 7, Fat Boy, on the box. The
Pickwickians were actually summoned by the hearty Wardle to join. "Room
_for you all_--two inside and one on the ox," where there was one
already. All accepted the invitation, making _ten_ persons in all who
were accommodated in the Barouche! But this does not exhaust its
wonders. When lunch time came round, with plates, dishes, bottles, eight
persons were squeezed together inside, so no wonder Wardle said, "We must
sit close." How it was done is not to be conceived--two sitting together
is the usual allowance for a modern Barouche, but four on one side!--and
yet we are told, when the horses were put to, the Barouche "rattled off."

The boy Dickens had carefully noted the behaviour of the garrison, and
described them as "staggering about the streets of Chatham dead drunk,"
more especially when we remember that the "following them about, and
joking with them, affords _a cheap and innocent amusement for the boy
population_--" (_vide Mr. Pickwick's notes_). The boy, no doubt, often
witnessed the incident of the private, "drawing his bayonet, and stabbing
the barmaid who had refused to draw him more liquor." It is
characteristic, by the way, of the police in a garrison town, for this
fellow appears to have been at large on the next day, as he went down to
the Tavern and tried to "square it" with the girl.

And now, is not this a testimony to this strange book, that we should be
thus introduced to old Rochester and its