Great Scenes from Great Novels
Great Scenes from Great Novels - The Military Review at Rochester- Charles Dickens (Abridged and Simplified)
Great Scenes from Great Novels -
The Military Review at Rochester
Charles Dickens
The Military Review at Rochester
Charles Dickens
(Abridged and Simplified)
The whole population of Rochester and the adjoining towns rose from their beds at an early hour of the following morning in a state of utmost bustle and excitement.
A grand review was to take place upon the lines. The commander - in - chief was expected to inspect the manoeuvres of half a dozen regiments.
Pickwick proposed to witness the military parade. His friend seconded his wish. So they all went on foot to the scene of action. With great difficulty Pickwick and his three friends stationed themselves in the front rank of the crowd.
Pickwick, a stout and middle - aged gentleman, was pushed forward by the crowd, and thrust back by the police. In that hour of excitement, Tupman had disappeared.
After two hours of eager expectation, the low roar of the crowd created the arrival of the regiments. Colours fluttered and arms glistened in the sun. Columns poured on to the plain. The troops halted and formed; the word of command rent the air; the arms were presented.
Nothing was to be seen on either side, as far as the eyes could reach, but a long perspective of red coat and white trousers, fixed and motionless. We are in a capital situation now', said Mr. Pickwick, looking round him.
The crowd had gradually dispersed in their immediate vicinity and they were nearly alone. 'Capital!' echoed both Mr. Snodgrass and Mr. Winkle.
'What are they doing now?' inquired Mr. Pickwick, adjusting his spectacles 'I - I - rather think', said Mr. Winkle changing colour - T' rather think they're going to fire'.
'Impossible replied Mr. Pickwick. Hardly had he uttered the word, when the muskets, all aimed in the direction of the Pickwickians, made a most awful and tremendous roar.
Pickwick assured his friends that they were only blank cartridges. Winkle was afraid to think that some of the men might have ball cartridges by mistake.
'We had better throw ourlves on our faces, hadn't we? said Mr. Snodgrass.
"No, no - it's over now', said Mr. Pickwick. His cheek might pale, but no expression of fear escaped his lips.
Mr. Pickwick was right; the firing ceased. However, a quick movement was visible in the line; the hoarse shout of the word of command ran along it.
Before either of the party could form a guess at the meaning of this new manoeuvre, the whole of the half - dozen regiments, with fixed bayonets, charged at double quick time down upon the very spot on which Mr. Pickwick and his friends were stationed.
Mr. Pickwick gazed through his spectacles for an instant on the advancing mass, and then fairly turned and trotted away at a quick face. That very moment, another troop of soldiers stood on the other side to repel the mimic attack of the charging musketry.
Pickwick and his friends found themselves between two lines of soldiers, the one advancing and the other firmly waiting to meet the attack.
'Hai!' shouted the officers of the advancing line.
'Get out of the way', cried the officers of the stationary one.
Where are we to go to?' screamed the agitated Pickwickians.
'Hoi - hoi - hoi,' was the reply. There was a moment of intense bewilderment, a heavy tramp of footsteps, a violent confusion, a smothered laugh, the half-a-dozen regiments were half-a-thousand yards off, and the soles of Mr. Pickwick's boots were elevated in the air.
Mr. Snodgrass and Mr. Winkle had each performed a somersault with remarkable speed. When Pickwick regained his normal position, he found himself hatless. The wind had removed his hat to a respectable distance.
Pickwick puffed in his efforts to catch his hat; the wind also puffed and rolled away the hat. Suddenly the progress of the hat halted by the wheel of a carriage.
Pickwick secured his hat and planted it firmly on his head. Then he noticed Tupman seated inside a carriage, with a stout old gentleman, two young ladies, a young man evidently a lover of one of the girls, and a lady of doubtful age, evidently an aunt of the girls.
On the box sat a fat and red - faced boy in a state of slumber. "Pickwick - Pickwick", said Mr. Tupman, 'come up here'.
The stout gentleman took all the three Pickwickians in with the help of Joe, his fat and sleepy servant boy. He introduced himself as Wardle of Manor Farm, Dingley Dell, the two girls as his daughters, the other lady as his sister Rachael, and the young man as Trundle.
Then they all stood up in the carriage to watch the manoeuvres. Firing and defence formation of squares, scaling obstacles, the knocking down of barricades, and the surrender of the other side, made up the chief incidents of that show. Everybody was excited except the fat boy on the box who dozed away through all the noise.
The military operations ended with the exploding of a mine. The troops slowly marched away. Wardle called Joe, the fat boy, but he was fast asleep. He asked Winkle, to pinch his leg and this awakened him. Wardle ordered him to open the box and pass round the knives, forks, and plates, and then the fowl, the meat and the wine.
They all felt so very merry. The boy Joe was asleep again. Very odd boy that, said Mr. Pickwick; does he always sleep in this way?' 'Sleep!' said the old gentleman, 'he's always asleep - goes on errands fast asleep, and snores as he waits on table'.
'How very odd! said Mr. Pickwick. "Ah! odd indeed', returned the old gentleman. 'I'm proud of that boy - wouldn't part with him on any account! Here Joe - take these things away - hear?
The fat boy rose, opened his eyes, swallowed a huge piece of pie, and slowly obeyed his master's orders. He removed the plates and brought out another bottle of wine. Then the horses were put to harness.
Wardle invited the Pickwickinas to Manor Farm, Dingley Dell, to spend not less than a week with him. He promised to them a rich treat of country life. Then he took leave and he and his family drove away in the carriage.
A grand review was to take place upon the lines. The commander - in - chief was expected to inspect the manoeuvres of half a dozen regiments.
Pickwick proposed to witness the military parade. His friend seconded his wish. So they all went on foot to the scene of action. With great difficulty Pickwick and his three friends stationed themselves in the front rank of the crowd.
Pickwick, a stout and middle - aged gentleman, was pushed forward by the crowd, and thrust back by the police. In that hour of excitement, Tupman had disappeared.
After two hours of eager expectation, the low roar of the crowd created the arrival of the regiments. Colours fluttered and arms glistened in the sun. Columns poured on to the plain. The troops halted and formed; the word of command rent the air; the arms were presented.
Nothing was to be seen on either side, as far as the eyes could reach, but a long perspective of red coat and white trousers, fixed and motionless. We are in a capital situation now', said Mr. Pickwick, looking round him.
The crowd had gradually dispersed in their immediate vicinity and they were nearly alone. 'Capital!' echoed both Mr. Snodgrass and Mr. Winkle.
'What are they doing now?' inquired Mr. Pickwick, adjusting his spectacles 'I - I - rather think', said Mr. Winkle changing colour - T' rather think they're going to fire'.
'Impossible replied Mr. Pickwick. Hardly had he uttered the word, when the muskets, all aimed in the direction of the Pickwickians, made a most awful and tremendous roar.
Pickwick assured his friends that they were only blank cartridges. Winkle was afraid to think that some of the men might have ball cartridges by mistake.
'We had better throw ourlves on our faces, hadn't we? said Mr. Snodgrass.
"No, no - it's over now', said Mr. Pickwick. His cheek might pale, but no expression of fear escaped his lips.
Mr. Pickwick was right; the firing ceased. However, a quick movement was visible in the line; the hoarse shout of the word of command ran along it.
Before either of the party could form a guess at the meaning of this new manoeuvre, the whole of the half - dozen regiments, with fixed bayonets, charged at double quick time down upon the very spot on which Mr. Pickwick and his friends were stationed.
Mr. Pickwick gazed through his spectacles for an instant on the advancing mass, and then fairly turned and trotted away at a quick face. That very moment, another troop of soldiers stood on the other side to repel the mimic attack of the charging musketry.
Pickwick and his friends found themselves between two lines of soldiers, the one advancing and the other firmly waiting to meet the attack.
'Hai!' shouted the officers of the advancing line.
'Get out of the way', cried the officers of the stationary one.
Where are we to go to?' screamed the agitated Pickwickians.
'Hoi - hoi - hoi,' was the reply. There was a moment of intense bewilderment, a heavy tramp of footsteps, a violent confusion, a smothered laugh, the half-a-dozen regiments were half-a-thousand yards off, and the soles of Mr. Pickwick's boots were elevated in the air.
Mr. Snodgrass and Mr. Winkle had each performed a somersault with remarkable speed. When Pickwick regained his normal position, he found himself hatless. The wind had removed his hat to a respectable distance.
Pickwick puffed in his efforts to catch his hat; the wind also puffed and rolled away the hat. Suddenly the progress of the hat halted by the wheel of a carriage.
Pickwick secured his hat and planted it firmly on his head. Then he noticed Tupman seated inside a carriage, with a stout old gentleman, two young ladies, a young man evidently a lover of one of the girls, and a lady of doubtful age, evidently an aunt of the girls.
On the box sat a fat and red - faced boy in a state of slumber. "Pickwick - Pickwick", said Mr. Tupman, 'come up here'.
The stout gentleman took all the three Pickwickians in with the help of Joe, his fat and sleepy servant boy. He introduced himself as Wardle of Manor Farm, Dingley Dell, the two girls as his daughters, the other lady as his sister Rachael, and the young man as Trundle.
Then they all stood up in the carriage to watch the manoeuvres. Firing and defence formation of squares, scaling obstacles, the knocking down of barricades, and the surrender of the other side, made up the chief incidents of that show. Everybody was excited except the fat boy on the box who dozed away through all the noise.
The military operations ended with the exploding of a mine. The troops slowly marched away. Wardle called Joe, the fat boy, but he was fast asleep. He asked Winkle, to pinch his leg and this awakened him. Wardle ordered him to open the box and pass round the knives, forks, and plates, and then the fowl, the meat and the wine.
They all felt so very merry. The boy Joe was asleep again. Very odd boy that, said Mr. Pickwick; does he always sleep in this way?' 'Sleep!' said the old gentleman, 'he's always asleep - goes on errands fast asleep, and snores as he waits on table'.
'How very odd! said Mr. Pickwick. "Ah! odd indeed', returned the old gentleman. 'I'm proud of that boy - wouldn't part with him on any account! Here Joe - take these things away - hear?
The fat boy rose, opened his eyes, swallowed a huge piece of pie, and slowly obeyed his master's orders. He removed the plates and brought out another bottle of wine. Then the horses were put to harness.
Wardle invited the Pickwickinas to Manor Farm, Dingley Dell, to spend not less than a week with him. He promised to them a rich treat of country life. Then he took leave and he and his family drove away in the carriage.
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