They wore the tight knee-pantaloon of velveteen peculiar to this portion of the British infantry: and their legs were so superb, that the Duke of Bordeaux, embracing with tears their admirable leader on parade, said, "Jenkins, France never saw such calves until now." The weapon of this tremendous militia was an immense club or cane, reaching from the sole of the foot to the nose, and heavily mounted with gold.

Nothing could stand before this terrific weapon, and the breast-plates and plumed morions of the French cuirassiers would have been undoubtedly crushed beneath them, had they ever met in mortal combat.

Between this part of the Prince's forces and the Irish auxiliaries there was a deadly animosity.

Alas, there always is such in camps! The sons of Albion had not forgotten the day when the children of Erin had been subject to their devastating sway.
The uniform of the latter was various--the rich stuff called corps-du-roy (worn by Coeur de Lion at Agincourt) formed their lower habiliments for the most part: the national frieze* yielded them tail-coats.

The latter was generally torn in a fantastic manner at the elbows, skirts, and collars, and fastened with every variety of button, tape, and string.