Читать книгу Random Shots from a Rifleman - J. Kincaid - Страница 4

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"No man can tether time or tide,

The hour approaches Tam maun ride."

And he takes one side step and two front ones on the road to glory.

It was a very fine thing, no doubt, to be an ensign in the local militia, and a remarkably pretty thing to be the admiration of all the milk-maids of a parish, but while time was jogging, I found myself standing with nothing but the precarious footing of those pleasures to stand upon, and it therefore behoved me to think of sinking the ornamental for the sake of the useful; and a neighbouring worthy, who was an importer and vender of foreign timber, happening at this time to make a proposition to unite our fortunes, and that I should take the charge of a branch establishment in the city of Glasgow, it was arranged accordingly, and my next position therefore was behind my own desk in that Wapping of Glasgow, called the Gorbals.

Mars, however, was still in the ascendant, for my first transaction in the way of business was to get myself appointed to a lieutenancy in one of the volunteer regiments, and, as far as I remember, I think that all my other transactions while I remained there redounded more to my credit as a soldier than as a citizen, and when, at the end of the year, the offer of an ensigncy in the militia enabled me to ascend a step higher on the ladder of my ambition, leaving my partner to sell or burn his sticks (whichever he might find the most profitable), I cut mine, and joined that finest of all militia regiments, the North York, when I began to hold up my head and to fancy myself something like a soldier in reality.

Our movements during the short period that I remained with them, were confined to casual changes among the different stations on the coasts of Kent and Sussex, where I got gradually initiated into all the mysteries of home service—learnt to make love to the smugglers' very pretty daughters, and became a dead hand at wrenching the knocker from a door.

The idleness and the mischievous propensities of the officers of that district (of the line as well as the militia) were proverbial at the period I speak of; but, while as usual the report greatly exceeded the reality, there was this to be said in their behalf, that they were almost entirely excluded from respectable society; owing partly, perhaps, to their not being quite so select as at the present time, (those heroes who had a choice of pleasures preferring Almack's to Napoleon's balls,) but chiefly to the numbers of the troops with which those districts were inundated during the war, and which put it out of the power of individual residents to notice such a succession of military interlopers, unless they happened to be especially recommended to them; so that, as the Irishman expresses it—he was a lucky cove indeed who in those days succeeded in getting his legs under a gentleman's mahogany.

It is not therefore much to be wondered at, if a parcel of wild young fellows thrown on their own resources, when that warlike age required a larking spirit to be encouraged rather than repressed amongst them—I say, it is not to be wondered at if they did occasionally amuse themselves with a class of persons which, under other circumstances, they would have avoided, and if the consequences were sometimes what they had better not have been—but the accounts between the man and woman of that day having been long since closed, it is not for me to re-open them, yet I remember that even that manner of life was not without its charms.

The only variety in my year's militia life was an encampment on the lines at Chatham, where we did duty on board the hulks, in the Medway. My post was for the greater period with a guard on board the old Irresistible, which was laden with about eight hundred heavy Danes who had been found guilty of defending their property against their invaders, and I can answer for it that they were made as miserable as any body of men detected in such a heinous crime had a right to be, for of all diabolical constructions in the shape of prisons the hulks claim by right a pre-eminence. However, we were then acting under the broad acknowledged principle, that those who are not for, are against us, and upon that same principle, the worthy Danes with their ships were respectfully invited to repose themselves for a while within our hospitable harbours.

On the breaking up of our encampment at Chatham we marched to Deal, where one of the periodical volunteerings from the militia, (to fill up the ranks of the line,) took place, and I need not add that I greedily snatched at the opportunity it offered to place myself in the position for which I had so long sighed.

On those occasions any subaltern who could persuade a given number of men to follow him, received a commission in whatever regiment of the line he wished, provided there was a vacancy for himself and followers. I therefore chose that which had long been the object of my secret adoration, as well for its dress as the nature of its services and its achievements, the old ninety-fifth, now the Rifle Brigade.—"Hurrah for the first in the field and the last out of it, the bloody fighting ninety-fifth," was the cry of my followers while beating up for more recruits—and as glory was their object, a fighting and a bloody corps the gallant fellows found it, for out of the many who followed Captain Strode and me to it, there were but two serjeants and myself, after the sixth campaign, alive to tell the tale.

I cannot part from the good old North York without a parting tribute to their remembrance, for as a militia regiment they were not to be surpassed.—Their officers were officers as well as gentlemen, and there were few among them who would not have filled the same rank in the line with credit to themselves and to the service, and several wanted but the opportunity to turn up trumps of the first order.

I no sooner found myself gazetted than I took a run up to London to get rid of my loose cash, which being very speedily accomplished, I joined the regiment at Hythe barracks.

They had just returned from sharing in the glories and disasters of Sir John Moore's retreat, and were busily employed in organizing again for active service. I have never seen a regiment of more gallant bearing than the first battalion there shewed itself, from their brilliant chief, (the late Sir Sidney Beckwith), downwards; they were all that a soldier could love to look on; and, splendid as was their appearance, it was the least admirable part about them, for the beauty of their system of discipline consisted in their doing every thing that was necessary, and nothing that was not, so that every man's duty was a pleasure to him, and the esprit de corps was unrivalled.

There was an abundance of Johny Newcome's, like myself, tumbling in hourly, for it was then such a favourite corps with the militia men, that they received a thousand men over their complement within the first three days of the volunteering, (and before a stop could be put to it,) which compelled the horse-guards to give an additional battalion to the corps.

On my first arrival my whole soul was so absorbed in the interest excited by the service-officers that, for a time, I could attend to nothing else—I could have worshipped the different relics that adorned their barrack-rooms—the pistol or the dagger of some gaunt Spanish robber—a string of beads from the Virgin Mary of some village chapel—or the brazen helmet of some French dragoon, taken from his head after it had parted company with his shoulders, and with what a greedy ear did I swallow the stories of their hair-breadth 'scapes and imminent perils, and long for the time when I should be able to make such relics and such tales mine own. Fate has since been propitious, and enabled me to spin as long a yarn as most folks, but as some of their original stories still dwell with much interest on my memory, I shall quote one or two of them, in the hope that they may not prove less so to my readers, for I am not aware that they have yet been published.