I saw the troops generally learning to stand water as well as to stand fire: and I thought a drenching shower rather seemed to damp their military ardour.
I thought that most of the regiments, in attacking a sham enemy, would be attacked by a real one in the shape of rheumatism: while many a brave fellow who never owned to a defeat would return to his quarters completely weather-beaten.
I heard young ENSIGN DRAWLINGTON complain that it was a "horwid baw fa fla who's--aw--fond of Opwa and Clabs--and--aw--that sorthing, to be fawced to leave town for this fernal camp affaiaw:" and I thought the gallant officer would feel considerably more at home in the Theatre of St. James's than in the Theatre of War.
I saw a force of nearly two dozen policemen sent to keep in order nearly ten thousand men: and I thought that the "force" should be rather called a "weakness" on the part of the Government.
In short, I saw on all sides sufficient ground for thinking that there are few finer fields for observation just at present than the field at Chobham; although, as an area for military manoeuvering, it is not to be compared with many an area in Knightsbridge.
The question of "What is a Mile?" is likely to take its place by the side of the important question "What is a Pound?" in the annals of political--or some other kind of--economy. Since the new Act has come into force--or rather into operation, for its potency is not yet much felt--there has been a fearful conflict of opinion between the cab-drivers and the public as to what is a mile. It is evident that there must be an appendix added to all the books on arithmetic, for the purpose of including Cab Measure, which is quite distinct from any other measure we have yet met with, and is about as diametrically opposed to Long Measure, as chalk is to any caseal or curdy compound. In the eyes of a cabman, "a miss is as good as a mile;" in fact, anything is as good as a mile for his--that is to say for his passenger's--money.
Any one who takes a cab from the West End to go over the water, whether by Westminster or Waterloo, may think himself fortunate if he is not involved in a sort of "Six-Mile-Bridge affair," by the demand of the cabman for three shillings, as the fare for passing one of the bridges. We can scarcely wonder at the easy familiarity of a cab-driver; for there is no one who seems so utterly incapable of keeping his distance. We trust, however, that the new Act will enable us to have justice brought to our own door, by handing a cabman at once over to the police, when a driver gives us a good setting down in a double sense, by insulting us after taking us to our destination. We may, in fact, now hope that a cabman's abuse--as well as his distance--will have to be measured.