battle on foot. The four-thirty trump signals water and stable call once more, with all troopers repeating the morning care of our mounts.
Once the horses are settled for the evening, the men partake of the evening meal, usually a watery soup with more bread, unless those of us not assigned to patrol are free for a few hours of leisure. In this happy event, we sup at a public house where the bill of fare barely surpasses that of the encampment. The Germanic folk subsist in great part on potatoes, cabbage, and all manner of greasy sausage. The beer, however, is more than tolerable.
The evening tattoo at approximately eight of the clock signals the barkeeps to close the taps and sends us back to our respective quarters for bed checks.
As to our Germanic brothers-in-arms, with whom we are united in name as one Pragmatic Army, I can assure you of a vastly different reality. There is mounting tension and a decided lack of camaraderie between the British and German troops who are daily more convinced that we wage war with France solely to protect Hanover.
The only cement in the Pragmatic alliance appears to be our mutual and absolute detestation of the French, which far exceeds our animosity toward one another. Nonetheless, fear of French domination has not been sufficient to cohere our generals on a battle plan.
But while finding ourselves in this sad state of limbo, I contrive to busy myself with my duties as Corporal of the Horse. My responsibili ties in this office, I confess, are ill-defined and varied. One day I am the right hand of Captain Drake as he inspects his troops, and the next I might be acting veterinary assistant to Major Winthrop, whose respect I have finally managed to win.
'Tis nonetheless a post, for which I am exceedingly grateful, as it has allowed me firsthand knowledge of all the regimental horses. The most extraordinary of these is by far the Riding Master's personal, a beauteous specimen, whose behavior has been so unruly and rancorous that Winthrop was induced to conduct a physical examination, lest there be some unknown injury that incites his passions.
Finding naught physically wrong, and having seen me manage the stallion better than any of his other handlers, Winthrop asked if I should care to try him under saddle in order to assess his back.
Relishing such a challenge after months of ceaseless marching, I saddled the horse. After completing the deed (with no small difficulty!), I was preparing to back him, when arrives Bainbridge demanding to know why the gray was out of his stables!
At this juncture, I discovered our Riding Master to be a man of great self-conceit and jealously possessive of his horses. With no allowance for explanation, he snatched up the bridle reins and mounted, whereby the animal commenced any number of capers.
Charlotte, although the man is highly regarded by the regiment as its most superlative horseman, I can by no means concur but for his propen sity to violence. Without compunction or hesitation, the major applied whip and spur to the horse so zealously, I believed he was bent on flogging the wickedness out of him. His actions only incited the full and uninhibited passion of the irascible beast, who thrashed and tossed himself about, bucking, plunging, and rearing in furious rebellion. Nonetheless, he failed in all his attempts to unseat the major, who gave back in full measure.
At length, Bainbridge succeeded in beating the horse into an angry, resentful submission. Convinced that he alone had tamed the untam able and mastered the unmasterable, the major's vanity was satisfied, but I could see clearly in the gray's eyes that he had conceded only the battle but not the war.
I am gratified to know that the horse's spirit remains unbroken. Capricious and cunning as he is, he will undoubtedly invent many schemes to oppose what is demanded of him by brute force. The major does not comprehend that the key to
Once the horses are settled for the evening, the men partake of the evening meal, usually a watery soup with more bread, unless those of us not assigned to patrol are free for a few hours of leisure. In this happy event, we sup at a public house where the bill of fare barely surpasses that of the encampment. The Germanic folk subsist in great part on potatoes, cabbage, and all manner of greasy sausage. The beer, however, is more than tolerable.
The evening tattoo at approximately eight of the clock signals the barkeeps to close the taps and sends us back to our respective quarters for bed checks.
As to our Germanic brothers-in-arms, with whom we are united in name as one Pragmatic Army, I can assure you of a vastly different reality. There is mounting tension and a decided lack of camaraderie between the British and German troops who are daily more convinced that we wage war with France solely to protect Hanover.
The only cement in the Pragmatic alliance appears to be our mutual and absolute detestation of the French, which far exceeds our animosity toward one another. Nonetheless, fear of French domination has not been sufficient to cohere our generals on a battle plan.
But while finding ourselves in this sad state of limbo, I contrive to busy myself with my duties as Corporal of the Horse. My responsibili ties in this office, I confess, are ill-defined and varied. One day I am the right hand of Captain Drake as he inspects his troops, and the next I might be acting veterinary assistant to Major Winthrop, whose respect I have finally managed to win.
'Tis nonetheless a post, for which I am exceedingly grateful, as it has allowed me firsthand knowledge of all the regimental horses. The most extraordinary of these is by far the Riding Master's personal, a beauteous specimen, whose behavior has been so unruly and rancorous that Winthrop was induced to conduct a physical examination, lest there be some unknown injury that incites his passions.
Finding naught physically wrong, and having seen me manage the stallion better than any of his other handlers, Winthrop asked if I should care to try him under saddle in order to assess his back.
Relishing such a challenge after months of ceaseless marching, I saddled the horse. After completing the deed (with no small difficulty!), I was preparing to back him, when arrives Bainbridge demanding to know why the gray was out of his stables!
At this juncture, I discovered our Riding Master to be a man of great self-conceit and jealously possessive of his horses. With no allowance for explanation, he snatched up the bridle reins and mounted, whereby the animal commenced any number of capers.
Charlotte, although the man is highly regarded by the regiment as its most superlative horseman, I can by no means concur but for his propen sity to violence. Without compunction or hesitation, the major applied whip and spur to the horse so zealously, I believed he was bent on flogging the wickedness out of him. His actions only incited the full and uninhibited passion of the irascible beast, who thrashed and tossed himself about, bucking, plunging, and rearing in furious rebellion. Nonetheless, he failed in all his attempts to unseat the major, who gave back in full measure.
At length, Bainbridge succeeded in beating the horse into an angry, resentful submission. Convinced that he alone had tamed the untam able and mastered the unmasterable, the major's vanity was satisfied, but I could see clearly in the gray's eyes that he had conceded only the battle but not the war.
I am gratified to know that the horse's spirit remains unbroken. Capricious and cunning as he is, he will undoubtedly invent many schemes to oppose what is demanded of him by brute force. The major does not comprehend that the key to
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