Letter No. XXVII
Brussels, 12th September 1815.
My dear Parents—I am now, thank God, able to enjoy myself once more. My health is nearly as good as ever. I increase in strength daily. The felicity I feel at being capable to walk about is hardly to be described. My legs swelled very much when I first arose out of bed. For some days I was often obliged to be carried back and rubbed with hot flannel for hours together. I was afraid of becoming dropsical, but these bad symptoms have entirely left me. On Sunday, being the birthday of my worthy landlord, we were very gay. After a splendid dinner I was gallant enough to walk with the ladies into the country nearly a mile, where we had cakes, etc., at a house, and then returned back. Two young ladies supported me, which amused the people that passed. I have invitations to dine out almost every day, but as I must live very steadily, I often refuse. The more I know of the good family I live with the better I like them. If I happen to mention my thoughts of returning to England, they are all melancholy, and request me not to think of it. Their fine children, as soon as they get up, come into my bedroom to kiss me and wish me good morning. A little girl often puts me in mind of my dear Betsy; she always calls me her uncle.
I shall be able to return to England in a month if I continue going on well. The violent spasms that often seized me have entirely disappeared; sometimes they came on when eating or drinking, and obstructed my throat in such a manner that I could not swallow. At first when I got into the garden I was so delighted with the scenery that I fancied I could walk in the presence of several ladies who came to pay an afternoon visit. I attempted it, and fell to the ground in fits. I certainly was out of my senses at the time. I alarmed the good folks, so that they all went home. I continued in convulsions all the night. This circumstance made me keep my bed a fortnight longer. I forgot to mention a circumstance which deserved my notice. Sergeant Fairfoot was wounded through the arm, and also through the hand, on the 16th. When I was carried off the field of battle and deposited in a stable upon straw, he came near me and expressed much concern. He supported me while the surgeon cut into my breast and dislodged the ball, which, being flat and terribly jagged, required some time. Every five minutes the cannon-shot from the enemy and shells were passing through this house, which made it a very dangerous place. Fairfoot was very anxious to get me away. He went in search of a horse, and returned with a Frenchman's, and tried to put me on it, but I fainted, and was carried back to my straw. When I came to myself, I heard the surgeons say, "What is the use of torturing him? he cannot live the night; he is better where he is than to die on horseback." This admonition made Fairfoot desist, but he got me water and behaved very kind. The enemy made a very desperate attack, and it was thought this place would in a few minutes be between the fire of the parties; under such circumstances we should be either burnt or shot. Everybody that could crawl left the place. I asked the hospital sergeant, who was the last man there, if we were to be left? He durst not answer me. A gallant young friend of mine, who was badly wounded and dying, crawled near me and said, "George, do not swear at the fellow; we shall soon be happy; we have behaved like Englishmen." At this moment Fairfoot entered, and a Rifle Man who gallantly exposed himself to carry me off the field. Fairfoot said, "We must not, nor shall not be murdered, but there is no time to spare." A Life Guardsman and he put me on the horse. I was held on by the legs. Fairfoot also got my friend away, but he died the same night, being a delicate young man.[30] I stated this affair to my Colonel, and all the officers know how much Sergeant Fairfoot merits my praise.[31] If I can do him a service he may always command me; his character as a brave soldier stands with the first in the regiment. You may tell this to his father. I hear from Joe frequently. He is well. Never mention me in conversation anywhere, as I do not want to be known at Hull. My side continues very numb still, but time will, I hope, render it better. I am anxious to come to England for the purpose of procuring the year's pay, which I shall send you—at least one hundred pounds. One year after, I shall present myself at the Medical Board for the pension, and if I get it, which there is every likelihood of, why then, I shall laugh at my wounds; for to protect and support those that are dear to me, my sufferings will be highly recompensed. I enclose a five-pound note, which I hope will reach you safely. When I landed I bought a horse, which cost me nineteen pounds; now that I want to sell it, I cannot get £10 (ten pounds) for it. I have sent the animal to my brother. He has one already of mine. If there is any likelihood of staying long in this country, I shall return. My horses, in that case, will be ready for me, and otherwise I have ordered them to sell them. I wish our brave fellows were away from Paris. It is a horrible sink of iniquity, and I am afraid will corrupt the morals of the thoughtless.
I have given advice to Joe, but I am convinced that he will not run into extremes or extravagance. I had some very good accounts of him from the depôt before he came out. I have shown myself to several surgeons. A celebrated one from Edinburgh saw me and asked me all the particulars. My case will be published among many others. The next letter will be most likely from London. You need not answer this.—Yours,
Geo. Simmons, Lieut.