"A man belonging to this fine regiment, named William Smith was, on Monday morning last, drummed out of the regiment, in conformity with the sentence of a court martial by which he had been convicted of repeated acts of petty theft among his comrades.
"The sentence was carried into execution in the usual manner, the prisoner being marched at the head of the regiment, without the confines of the barracks, with a large placard on his back, inscribed with the word 'thief' in large letters, and the band playing 'The Rogue's March.'
"The scene was witnessed by an immense number of spectators.
"The prisoner appeared to treat his disgraceful situation with a great deal of levity; when set at liberty, he tore the badge from his back and retreated into a neighbouring public-house where he regaled himself with a pipe and a half-pint of beer."
*
The 'fine regiment' was the Scots Greys. The report is from The Western Times of 7th May, 1842.
Ah!, to have lived in an age when the Army laid on free entertainment for the citizens of Exeter, There were military funerals. military drummings-out, military reviews, military concerts of a Sunday, military parades, all colourful and lively and serving to please the people and to attract recruits to the service of the nation; even that thieving Bill Smith seemed pleased to contribute to the cause.
There were many unofficial lyrics to The Rogue's March. A contemporary one went:
"Fifty I got for selling my coat,/ fifty for selling my blanket./ If ever I 'lists for a sodger again/ the Devil shall be my sergeant."
'Got' and 'coat' is an admirable assonance; 'blanket' and 'sergeant' is just getting the rhyme wrong.
It would seem that the light-headed, light-hearted, light-fingered Trooper Smith had not been flogged, not fifty lashes, not lately anyway.
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