1S27.] A Day at the Camp of St. Omer. 617 



As it is riot our purpose to penetrate into the arcana of a camp, but merely 

 to glance at its external features, we need not pay much more attention to 

 mere details, especially as by this time the scene has acquired a new and 

 more enlivening general character, by the presence of most of its late 

 slumbering inmates, who are now up and about, passing hither and thither, 

 on their ever- repeated routine of fetching and eating rations, polishing gun- 

 locks and cartouch- boxes, whitening belts, and blackening shoes; the whole 

 interspersed with about an equal variety of chansons, setting forth the merits 

 of those three only, and universal themes of camp worship, war, women and 

 wine ; for, in regard to the last named particular, a Frenchman is temper- 

 ate in his palate alone ; he gets tipsy as often in imagination, as the inhabi- 

 tants of other nations do in fact 



The scene of perfect and almost preternatural stillness, which we en- 

 countered on reaching the camp at day-break, is now entirely passed away, 

 and all has put on an air of lively and active preparation for the grand day 

 that is to ensue. The soldiers, as we have seen, are at their daily duties, 

 the officers are seen here and there, looking forth from their tents half 

 attired ; the wandering vendors of refreshments are reaching the heights one 

 by one; and a few of the spectators have already arrived, and are looking 

 about wistfully at the immense extent of the scene before them, a3 if they 

 were not a little puzzled as to the choice of a position. 



We cannot chuse a fitter moment than the present, for taking our morn- 

 ing's meal, at one of. the numerous suttling booths that are erected at the 

 back of the camp, for the entertainment of the visitors, &c. ; we will chuse 

 the best-looking external appearance, being, in these cases, (as in most 

 others,) the surest criterion of that which accompanies it. The scene we 

 meet with in the restaurant of the Trocadero, falls in very aptly with that 

 without, and may, therefore, be worth a glance, while our cafe au lait is 

 preparing. At the bar (as usual) sits a piquante and lively Frenchwoman, 

 doing nothing but act the amiable to her guests as they enter; while her 

 husband takes upon him all the other duties of the place. On a side table 

 is set out every variety of patisserie that the French cuisine affords , and 

 the rest of the long and gaily ornamented apartment is furnished with 

 tables and seats for the guests : which latter are as various as the varied 

 productions and prices of a French cafe usually get together, to the great 

 scandal of those of our countrymen who are afraid to be seen in any but 

 " good " company. At the first table on the right, sit a couple of anciens 

 militaires, sipping their demi-tasses of cafe noir, at the " short and far-be- 

 tween " intervals permitted by their irrepressible volubility : for their game 

 tfecarte, at which they are playing, in no respect interferes with their 

 desire and determination to settle the affairs of all the states of Europe, 

 before they have finished their breakfast. They are overlooked in their 

 game, and assisted in their discussions by a third, who has just looked in 

 from his duties at the camp, and is on the wing to be off every moment 

 that he stays. Opposite to these sit two other militaires, of a higher 

 grade, (though younger) and of a very different school and style. In their 

 ears the loud and reckless tone of their comrades opposite, (to say nothing 

 of an occasional twist in the subject matter, or its treatment) smacks too 

 much of the late mode, to sound either palatable or polite; and it may be 

 questioned whether their opposite neighbours have not guessed as much, 

 and are " aggravating their voices " accordingly : for none are so accus- 

 tomed to commit the unpardonable rudoness of talking at one another, as 

 " the politest people in the world." Close beside the two erect and fasti- 

 MM. New Series. VOL. IV. No. 24. 4 K 



