off the cattle, others to fire the corn. While the men worked in the
fields, their womankind--young maids and grandmothers, and all that
could be spared from domestic work--encamped above the cliffs,
wearing red cloaks to scare the Frenchmen, and by night kept big
bonfires burning continually. Amid this painful disquietude of the
public mind "the great and united Spirit of the British People armed
itself for the support of their ancient Glory and Independence
against the unprincipled Ambition of the French Government."
In other words, the Volunteer movement began. In the Duchy alone no
less than 8,362 men enrolled themselves in thirty Companies of foot,
horse, and artillery, as well out of enthusiasm as to escape the
general levy that seemed probable--so mixed are all human actions.

Of these the Looe Company was neither the greatest nor the least.
It had neither the numerical strength of the Royal Stannary Artillery
(1,115 men and officers) nor the numerical eccentricity of the St.
Germans Cavalry, which consisted of forty troopers, all told, and
eleven officers, and hunted the fox thrice a week during the winter
months under Lord Eliot, Captain and M.F.H. The Looe Volunteers,
however, started well in the matter of dress, which consisted of a
dark-blue coat and pantaloons, with red facings and yellow wings and
tassels, and a white waistcoat. The officers' sword-hilts were
adorned with prodigious red and blue tassels, and the blade of
Captain Pond's, in particular, bore the inscription, "_My Life's
Blood for the Two Looes!_"--a legend which we must admit to be
touching, even while we reflect that the purpose of the weapon was
not to draw its owner's life-blood.

As a matter of mere history, this devoted blade had drawn nobody's
blood; since, in the six years that followed their enlistment, the