We anchored that same day at Plymouth, but were not allowed to land; our Colonel kept us on board until we got new clothing. Upon our landing, the people came round us, showing all manner of kindness, carrying the lame and leading the blind. We were received into every house as if we had been their own relations. How proud did I feel to belong to such a people!
We were marched to Ashford barracks, in the County of Kent, where we remained from the month of February, 1809, until we were marched to Gosport camp, where the army was forming for a secret expedition. During the five weeks we lay in camp, Donald joined us in good health and spirits. All the time I lay at Ashford, I had letters regularly from my mother, which whiled away the time.
We sailed from the Downs on the 28th of July, and reached Flushing in thirty hours, where we landed without opposition. Our regiment was the first that disembarked. We were brigaded, alongst with the 68th and 85th regiments, under the command of Major-General De Rollenburgh. Here, again, as in South America, I was forced to work in the trenches, in forming the batteries against Flushing. On the night of the 7th of August, the French sallied out upon our works, but were quickly forced back with great loss. They were so drunk, many of them, that they could not defend themselves; neither could they run away: we, in fact, gave up the pursuit, our hearts would not allow us to kill such helpless wretches, a number of whom could not even ask for mercy.
On the evening of the 10th, we had a dreadful storm of thunder and rain. At the same time the French Governor opened the sluices, and broke down the sea dikes, when the water poured in upon us, and we were forced to leave the trenches. However, on the 13th, in the evening, we commenced a dreadful fire upon the town, from the batteries and vessels in the harbour, which threw bombs and rockets on one side, whilst the batteries plyed them with round-shot on the other. I was stunned and bewildered by the noise; the bursting of bombs and falling of chimneys, all adding to the incessant roar of the artillery. The smoke of the burning houses and guns, formed, altogether, a scene not to be remembered but with horror, which was increased, at every cessation from firing, (which was very short,) by the piercing shrieks of the inhabitants, the wailings of distress, and howling of dogs. The impression was such as can never be effaced. After night fell, the firing ceased, save from the mortar batteries; the noise was not so dreadful; the eye was now the sense that conveyed horror to the mind; the enemy had set fire to Old Flushing, whilst the New Town was kept burning by the shells and rockets. The dark flare of the burning, the reflection on the water and sky, made all the space, as far as the eye could reach, appear an abyss of fire. The faint tracks of the bombs, and luminous train of the rockets, darting towards and falling into the flames, conveyed an idea to my mind so appalling, that I turned away and shuddered.
This night our regiment was advanced a good way in front, upon a sea dike, through which the enemy had made a cut to let the water in upon our works. Towards midnight, when the tide was ebb, Colonel Pack made a sally into one of the enemy’s batteries. We crossed the cut in silence; Colonel Pack entered first, and struck off the sentinel’s head at one blow. We spiked their guns, after a severe brush. At the commencement, as I leaped into the works, an officer seized my firelock before I could recover my balance, and was in the act to cut me down; the sword was descending, when the push of a bayonet forced him to the ground: It was Donald, who fell upon us both. I extricated myself as soon as possible, rose and fell to work; there was no time to congratulate. The enemy had commenced a heavy fire upon us, and we were forced to retire with forty prisoners. We lost a great number of men, killed, wounded, and missing. Donald was amongst the latter, but joined in the morning.
Next morning, Monnet surrendered, and we marched into Flushing, scarce a house of which had escaped; all was a scene of death and desolation. The wet and fatigue of the last few days had made me ill. I was scarce able to stand, yet I did not report myself sick. I thought it would wear off. Next night I was upon guard: the night was clear and chill; a thin white vapour seemed to extend around as far as I could see; the only part free from it were the sand heights. It covered the low place where we lay, and was such as you see early in the morning before the sun is risen, but more dense. I felt very uncomfortable in it; my two hours I thought never would expire; I could not breathe with freedom. Next morning, I was in a burning fever at times, at other times trembling and chilled with cold; I was unfit to rise or walk upon my feet. The surgeon told me I had taken the country disorder. I was sent to the hospital; my disease was the same as that of which hundreds were dying. My spirits never left me; a ray of hope would break in upon me the moment I got ease between the attacks of this most severe malady.
I was sent, with many others, to Braeburnlees, where I remained eight weeks ill—very ill indeed. All the time I was in the hospital, my soul was oppressed by the distresses of my fellow-sufferers, and shocked at the conduct of the hospital men. Often have I seen them fighting over the expiring bodies of the patients, their eyes not yet closed in death, for articles of apparel that two had seized at once, cursing and oaths mingling with the dying groans and prayers of the poor sufferers. How dreadful to think, as they were carried from each side of me, it might be my turn next! There was none to comfort, none to give a drink of water with a pleasant countenance. I had now time to reflect with bitterness on my past conduct; here I learned the value of a parent’s kindness. I had been unable to write since my illness, and I longed to tell my mother where I was, that I might hear from her. I crawled along the wall of the hospital to the door, to see if I could find one more convalescent than myself, to bring me paper. I could not trust the hospital men with the money. To see the face of heaven, and breathe the pure air, was a great inducement to this difficult exertion. I feebly, and with anxious joy, pushed up the door: horrid moment! dreadful sight! Donald lay upon the barrow, at the stair-head, to be carried to the dead-room; his face was uncovered, and part of his body naked. The light forsook my eyes, I became dreadfully sick, and fell upon the body. When I recovered again, there was a vacancy of thought and incoherence of ideas, that remained with me for some time; and it was long before I could open a door without feeling an unpleasant sensation. When I became convalescent, I soon recovered my wonted health; the regiment arrived at Braeburnlees upon Christmas day, and I commenced my duties as a soldier. By the death of Donald, I had again become a solitary individual, nor did I again form a friendship while we lay here, which was until May, 1810; at which time we got the route for Deal. We remained there until the month of September, when an order came for a draught of 600 men for service in Portugal, of which number I was one.
There were six companies of 100 men each, embarked in two frigates, 300 in each. I was on board the Melpomene. During the six days’ sail to Lisbon, my thoughts were not the most agreeable. I was on my way to that country in which I had already suffered so much. My health was good, but my spirits were very low; I could not yet bring myself to associate with the other men, so as to feel pleasure in their amusements. I found it necessary to humour them in many things, and be obliging to all. I was still called saucy, and little courted by my comrades to join them. I had changed my bed-fellow more than once, they not liking my dry manner, as they called it. On the seventh day after leaving Deal, we were landed at Blackhorse Square, Lisbon, amidst the shouts of the inhabitants. We were marched to the top of the town, and billeted in a convent. A good many were billeted in the town, the convent being not large enough to contain us. I was billeted upon a cook-shop. Two years before, while encamped before Lisbon, I had often wished to enter the town; now, I as ardently wished to leave it. I was sickened every hour of the day with the smell of garlic and oil; every thing there is fried in oil that will fry. Oil and garlic is their universal relish. Cleanliness they have not the least conception of. The town is a dunghill from end to end; their principal squares are not even free from heaps of filth. You may make a shift to walk by the side of the streets with clean shoes, but cross one if you dare. I inquired at one of our regiment, who had been left sick, if they had any scavengers? “Yes,” said he, “they have one.” “He will have a great many under him?” “None.” “What folly, to have only one to such a city!” “And that one only when he may please to come.” “You joke with me.” “No, I don’t; the rain is their street-cleaner; he will be here soon, there will be clean streets while he remains; then they prepare work for him again.”
To my great joy, we paraded in the grand square, on the seventh day after arrival, and marched in sections to the music of our bugles, to join the army, having got our camp equipments, consisting of a camp-kettle and bill-hook to every six men, a blanket, a canteen and haversack, to each man. Orders had been given that each soldier, on his march, should carry alongst with him three days’ provision. Our mess of six, cast lots who should be cook the first day, as we were to carry the kettle day about; the lot fell to me. My knapsack contained two shirts, two pair of stockings, one pair overalls, two shoebrushes, a shaving-box, one pair spare shoes, and a few other articles; my greatcoat and blanket above the knapsack: my canteen with water was slung over my shoulder, on one side; my haversack with beef and bread, on the other; sixty round of ball cartridge, and the camp-kettle above all.