A DOMESTIC “AFFAIR.”

It is to be greatly regretted that the lower orders of the people in some of the towns where the military are quartered, often quarrel with the soldiers; and it is still more so, that the fault is generally, most unjustly, thrown upon the latter. From the admirable order which is preserved throughout the whole of the British army, ill conduct upon the part of the soldiery towards the people, as rarely occurs as it escapes exemplary punishment. A drunken soldier, like any other drunken individual, may be occasionally insolent or outrageous; but certainly not more so because he is a soldier. Unless under the effects of intoxication, the first offence never—or at least very seldom—comes from the soldier to the civilian. On the contrary, there exists, among the inhabitants of many towns, a strong disposition to insult the military—more particularly the officers: but this reprehensible disposition, I am happy to think, is wholly confined to the lowest order of the people. An authentic fact, which I am about to relate, throws considerable light upon the real nature of such quarrels. It is but too true, that when the report of an affray between those two ingredients in the state goes forth, every body exclaims, that the soldiers are in the wrong, and should be checked; military despotism is held up as making rapid strides; and British liberty is represented as in danger of being trodden under foot, forsooth, by an insolent soldiery! This is often the cry, even amongst enlightened men, when they hear of a quarrel between the military and the people, or rather the rabble; for, thank God! the men properly designated by that grand and mighty term, “the people,” are far removed in mind as well as manners, from those composing the ignorant and factious class who delight in doing all the injury in their power, not only to a soldier, but to every one entrusted with the preservation of social order. These, thank God! are also of the fewer number.

The Grinders21 (as they are termed) of Sheffield were formerly very annoying to the dragoons quartered near them; and, unless they have changed their manners within the last three or four years, continue in that evil disposition to this day. But I have little hope that any change has taken place; for they appeared of that order whose noses were peculiarly suited to the grinding-stone; and though the wheel may go round for half a century, it will, I fear, never give their intellects a polish, even of the dullest kind. But although the better classes of Sheffielders are neither famous for hospitality to nor regard for the military, yet they are never forward in offering disrespect to them; and the officers quartered amongst them have sometimes met with individuals worthy of that gratitude which is due for every cordial and hospitable attention.

Some years ago, the 5th Dragoon Guards, or Green Horse, were on duty at Sheffield.—The officers of the heavy dragoons, to which class this regiment belongs, have never been remarkable for military coxcombry; on the contrary, they have been always remarked for sedate and gentlemanly demeanour. There is, therefore, less pretext for the insult which gave rise to the conflict I am about to describe.

Two of the Green Horse officers—a captain and a subaltern, were proceeding quietly from Sheffield towards their barracks, which lay about half a mile out of the town: a squad of Grinders coming from their work overtook them; and, grinning through the dirty tunic which invariably covers the faces of all their tribe, opened a volley of gibes and jeers upon the officers. “There be two b—— red herrings!” said one. “They're a gotten more gould on their jackets than in their pockets,22 I'll warrant,” observed another, and so on; accompanying their coarse remarks by an expression of countenance and manner not to be misunderstood by the passers-by, who rather encouraged the outrage by approving looks. This provoking annoyance continued several minutes, but the officers walked quietly on, and apparently took no notice of their persecutors. As they proceeded, two privates of their regiment happened to turn out of a passage on their way to the barracks, and thus accidentally fell in, close to the rear of the grinders; and had, therefore, a full opportunity of witnessing what was going forward. As soon as they perceived the real state of matters, both stepped up to the officers; and having given the salute in line, one of them respectfully asked, “if their honours would have any objection to let them give the fellows a small bit of a threshing.” So reasonable a request could hardly be denied: the only fear the officers had, was that the grinders, who were five in number, might prove too many for the soldiers. However, a good will is half the battle; and, as the two dragoons were strapping active fellows, without any kind of arms except those with which nature had furnished them—one, a well-made Lancashire man of five feet eleven inches, and the other, a hard square-built Hibernian, of about two inches less—and as both were in light stable dresses, which seemed cut out for the occasion, it was decided by the officers that their men should, if possible, render to the five grinders what, in justice, they so well deserved.

Scarcely had a minute elapsed from the issuing of orders to attack, when the five mechanics lay in various convoluted positions in the dust, the colour of which was instantly changed to florid red in various parts, owing to the operations performed upon some of the fallen noses by the knuckles of the heavy dragoons—

“And Earth blushed deep for her base sons' offences.”

An attempt to rally was several times made by the grinders, but although men of steel and familiar with the blade, their skill and strength but little availed, so they prudently beat a retreat, having been first well beaten themselves.

The troops now coolly withdrew from the field of action in perfect order, having received the unqualified thanks of the officer commanding. But the enemy, who had now received a consider able reinforcement, pursued by rapid marches the Heavies, and came up with them within about a hundred yards from the barracks. The grinders' force was now increased to about one hundred, well armed with hammers, knives, and pokers. The barrack-gate was in view of the two soldiers, who had retreated so far extremely well, but closely followed up by the enemy's skirmishers. A party of about a dozen now joined the dragoons, and attacked the foe with vigour; but this handful could do little against so numerous an enemy, except to secure an orderly retreat into the garrison. This was done, and the gates closed upon them. Meantime the grinders mustered in great numbers, receiving reinforcements from all quarters, and seemed to threaten an assault upon the barracks. A sortie was immediately determined upon, and only one restriction put upon the troopers—whose force was now about eighty—namely, that they should not carry with them to the attack their swords, pistols, or carbines, but every man should provide himself with a broom-stick. The stable-brooms flew from their staves instanter at the kick of the enraged dragoons; but as there was not a sufficient number of those formidable weapons, iron sword-scabbards, shovel handles, and rack-bars, by further permission, completed the arms of the troops.

The sortie was conducted in a most admirable manner:—the gates were thrown open by an instantaneous movement: a sergeant's guard, armed with carbines and swords, appeared drawn up in line on the inside: the Grinders beheld the formidable force, and the word “ready” struck such a panic into their hearts, that they ran off in confusion, without waiting for the “present.” However, they did not run far; but halted at the end of the road, about fifty yards from the gates; and their leaders were in the act of encouraging them to return to the assault, by appealing to the powers that watched over the “rights of the people.”—“Magna Charta, and the cause of the Grinders!” were the last words of the chief; and the effect of his speech was manifested in loud huzzas. At this instant the Broomsticks sallied out upon the Grinders, with a desperation which obliterated in a moment even the traces of their chief's harangue. Little was the use of the hammer, the knife, or the poker; the obtundity of the broomsticks beat down every point, and workmen with their tools were strewed along the inglorious ground—ground as it were, while they ought to have been employed in grinding. Never was military power exerted over the “power of the people” more to the satisfaction of every body, except the Grinders themselves; for they were not cut in pieces by the sword, nor their heads blown off by the ball; but belaboured with broomsticks in the most admirable and popular manner, by a force two-thirds inferior to their own!

It is much to be regretted that plebeian freaks should produce serious evils; but effects will follow causes, in spite of our regrets. This affair, although attended with no loss of lives, produced considerable loss not only to the employers of the Grinders, but to the families of the unfortunate combatants; for seventy were taken wounded to the hospital in an hour after the first attack, and some suffered a long time under their wounds. They, however, received an excellent lesson, which they did not soon forget; for when the 5th Dragoon Guards, in a few years after, were quartered amongst them, instead of insult they met with the greatest respect—(À la distance)—from the entire body of the Grinders.