AT EDINBURGH—BILL TELLS THE COLONEL SOMETHING
On the night of our arrival, the deserter was taken to Edinburgh, and put into the guard-room. The recruits and myself were drawn up in line before the Colonel, and we were asked particularly who we were and whence we came. My turn arrived. “Well, and who are you?” says the Colonel. “You seem to have had a better time than these Sheffielders.” I told him that I was from Keighley, in the West Riding of Yorkshire. “Is that somewhere near Bingley?” asked the Colonel. “Yes,” replied I, “about four miles away.” “Do you know a gentleman in the neighbourhood called William Busfeild Ferrand?” “Yes, sir,” replied I. “He lives at St. Ives; I know him very well.” “Have you (queried the Colonel with a merry twinkling in his eye) ever had any of his hares and rabbits?” “No,” replied I, “I’m not a poacher.” “Well,” remarked the Colonel, “I think you will do well; perhaps it’s the best thing you ever did. But of these Sheffielders I have no high opinion; they’re a bad sample of soldiers indeed, and if I had my way I would petition Government to have no Sheffielders at all in the Army.” Then we retired from the Colonel’s presence, the sergeant in charge being instructed to take us on the following morning before the regimental doctor for examination. Set at liberty for the time being, we recruits made for the canteen. There we found all classes of soldiers—Highlanders, Lancers, Artillerymen—all supping their ale and making merry.
A RED-LETTER DAY IN MY LIFE
Next morning the recruits were brought before the doctor, who duly examined and passed us—all but two men. The next move was to the quarter-master’s stores; and now, for the first time in my life, I donned the Queen’s uniform. This, I can truly say, was a red-letter day in my career: I felt a proud man for the moment, and I remember the thought suggesting itself, “Now, where will this land you, William Wright?” I had a longing to see the city and its surroundings—Holyrood Palace, Roslin Castle, John Knox’s house, &c.; so I asked the quarter-master for the necessary leave. But he said that before I could leave the barracks I must get quit of my civilian’s clothing—you see they were frightened I should desert. I was told that there was a Jew in the bottom corridor of the castle who bought second-hand clothing.
“JEWED” BY A JEW
I accordingly paid a visit to my friend Isaac, and asked him, “What will give me for this suit o’ clothes? They cost me £3 10s in Bradford only three weeks ago, and, besides, these boots are nearly new.” “Well, my frent,” said the old Jew “tem poots vill be sixpence, an’ tees cloas vill pe von shillin’; an’ (speaking with warmth) I vill not gif you von penny more for tem—not von penny.” “I’ll be blessed if I’ll take that” said I, also speaking with some fervour; “You vile dog of a Jew! No wonder that your race is hated in every clime, for you would rob a saint of his shoe strings!” But the Jew had been tempered to these oft repeated “blessings,” as was proved by the coolness with which he said: “Howefer, dat is vhat I vill gif you, an’ not anoder farding.” Seeing that parleying was useless with this worldly extortionizer, and seeing, also, what a fix I was in, I eventually parted with my clothes and shoes.
BEFORE THE DRILL-SERGEANT
After that I was at liberty to leave the barracks; which I did, and made my way down into the city—into Canongate. On my return to barracks it was time for recruits’ drill. The drill-sergeant had a voice like unto a growling buffalo. He said: “Now, then, ye recruits, Ye’re not at home now—a lot of sucking pigs with your mothers. Ye’ve got good pay and rations, and by the bokey ye’ll have to drill.” This was the order of the day for two months, and at the end of that time I had made pretty fast progress with my drill, and I was shortly placed in the ranks as a full-blown soldier.
A PROMOTION
One morning, soon after this, I was called to the orderly-room. I was told that it had pleased my superiors to promote me to the rank of a lance-corporal. I made some objection to this, saying I did not yet know private’s duty, as I had only been a private for two months. But the colonel told me that I could well learn the duties of both private and lance-corporal at the same time. Therefore, I accepted the promotion, though I was quite content to stay as I was, and I got a stripe to put on my tunic and “shell” jacket; also on my great coat. My first duty as a lance “Jack” was as escort of a coal fatigue in the castle. I had under me a squad of old soldiers, whose duty it was to carry boxes of coals from the basement to the upper story in the building. Although I was very forbearing with the men, they were ever and anon grumbling and growling, and in the course of one of their little outpourings I heard a veteran exclaim that he never knew a fool in his life but what was lucky!