hey pleased instead
of shelter and food, but the majority were decisive in their opinion that
on no attainable pension could they be so comfortable as they were at
present. Consequently the committee embodied their resolution in the
following words: "That no amount of increased pension that it would be
practicable to give would enable the men to be cared for outside the
Hospital as they are cared for at present."

The life led by the old men is peculiar, partaking as it does somewhat of
a military character. The side-wings of the Hospital, built of red brick
faced with stone, and darkened by age, are 360 feet in length and four
stories in height. Each story contains one ward, which runs the whole
length of the wing. The wide, shallow old staircase, the high doors, the
wainscot, are all of oak coloured by age. The younger men and the least
infirm occupy the highest wards, which look out upon the quadrangles by
means of windows on the roof. Each ward contains about five-and-twenty
men, including two sergeants, who have rather larger apartments than the
rest, one at each end. An open space, like the between-decks of a ship,
occupies half the longitudinal space, and the other half is partitioned
off into separate cubicles containing a bed and a box, and these are open
at the top and into the room. There is a large stove and one or two
high-backed settles in each ward. Here the old fellows sit and smoke and
warm up any food they have reserved from the last meal. One or two have
attempted to furnish their cubicles with pictures cut from the
illustrated papers, but they do not seem to care much, as a rule, for
anything but warmth and a pipe.

All the Waterloo veterans have died out, but Crimea and Indian Mutiny men
there are in plenty. At each end of the wings are the staircases, which
lead into passage halls. At the extreme end of the eastern wing is the
Governor's house, built in exactly the same style as the rest of the
wing, and looking like part of it.

In the Governor's house there is a magnificent state-room, 37 feet in
length and 27 in width. It has the immense height of 27 feet, occupying
two complete stories. The effect of height within the room is, however,
diminished by a cornice which projects quite a foot all round, about
two-thirds of the way up. The ceiling, which has been frequently alluded
to by writers on Chelsea, but never fully described, has an immense oval
in the centre, surrounding a circle of acorns