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Updated: June 6, 2025
"They'll get enough of it before the day's done," grumbled the other; but at that moment Colonel Reynell saw that the Rifles and the 52nd were down on either side of us, so we had the order to stretch ourselves out too. Precious glad we were when we could hear the shot whining like hungry dogs within a few feet of our backs.
There we were quartered in tents mostly, for it was fine sunny weather and the whole brigade set to work at its drill from morning till evening. General Adams was our chief, and Reynell was our colonel, and they were both fine old soldiers; but what put heart into us most was to think that we were under the Duke, for his name was like a bugle call.
We found the cloth spread out on the smooth dry sand, and covered with pies and other dainties, and the plates and the knives and forks. Mr Reynell was engaged in making a huge salad in a wooden bowl. I introduced Mark in due form. "Come and sit down," said Harry to him in a kind way which soon made him feel quite at home.
Having surveyed the place, we heard Mr Reynell shouting out to us to carry down the baskets of pies, tarts, cold ham, and chicken, plates, knives and forks. While the rest of the party were so engaged, I ran on to invite old Roger. I found him and Mark within.
We were early risers at that time, and the whole brigade was usually under arms at the flush of dawn. One morning it was the sixteenth of June we had just formed up, and General Adams had ridden up to give some order to Colonel Reynell within a musket-length of where I stood, when suddenly they both stood staring along the Brussels road.
None of us dared move our heads, but every eye in the regiment whisked round, and there we saw an officer with the cockade of a general's aide-de-camp thundering down the road as hard as a great dapple-grey horse could carry him. He bent his face over its mane and flogged at its neck with the slack of the bridle, as though he rode for very life. "Hullo, Reynell!" says the general.
As Harry Reynell, his brother, and friends were good-natured merry fellows, we had a pleasant time as we walked or ran along, laughing and singing, and playing each other tricks. We soon left Mr Reynell behind, but he told us not to mind him, as he should soon catch us up. The carriage followed with the prog, but as the road was in many places heavy, it did not move as fast as we did.
We formed a tolerably numerous party. As my father was unable to go, Mr Reynell was the only grown-up person among us. The spot I had fixed upon was not far from Roger Riddle's cottage. As I had been thinking of him, I proposed asking the old sailor and Mark to join our party. From the account I gave to Mr Reynell of Roger Riddle, he did not object to this.
"Never mind, lads," said old Roger; "Master Dick here tells me that you would like to hear a yarn or two; the grass here, as much as there is of it, is dry enough," and Mr Riddle seated himself on the bank, while we all gathered round him. Mr Reynell placed himself at a little distance, although within earshot, when he took out his sketchbook to make a drawing of the scene.
Carpenter, Therese Simpson, Rob't Buchanan, Alfred Tennyson, John Ruskin, C.G. Gates, E.T. Wilkinson, T.L. Warren, C.W. Reynell, W.B. Scott, A.G. Dew Smith, E.W. Gosse, T.W. Rolleston, Geo. Wallis, Rafe Leicester, Thos. Dixon, N. MacColl, Mrs. Matthews, R. Hannah, Geo. Saintsbury, R.S. Watson, Godfrey and Vernon Lushington, G.H. Lewes, G.H. Boughton, Geo. Fraser, W.T. Arnold, A. Ireland, Mrs.
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