The first thing they did was to feel our hands, which, finding to be rather soft, one remarked to the other, that we had never been sailors, though nevertheless they took us as lawful prey. Wilkie, at first, wanted to fight with them, but was persuaded by half a dozen bull dogs, and some cutlasses to walk quietly to the tender, in which we most probably should have taken a voyage, but, for one thing, we had been sea-sick and were sick of the sea, and on being examined by the officer on board the next morning, we gladly sent for our sergeant, who, claiming us, accordingly, we were liberated.
Our party continued their march, and Wilkie, whom for more reasons than one I was growing exceedingly attached to, was always my companion and many a scrape he got me into. He was continually in hot water; on several occasions and particularly at Lichfield where we were caged, for kicking up disturbances amongst some Irish recruits in which, however, I supported my friend, we were detained for want of means to pay for the damage done to a public-house, the scene of riot. Sergeant Crooks (for that was our sergeant’s name) had not unfortunately the means to satisfy this demand, having nothing but the men’s bare allowance to carry us to London. Meanwhile, we remained in the cage, which was in a very conspicuous part of the market-place.
The fact of an Irishman being there, seemed to have aroused all the little brats and blackguards of the neighbourhood, (my countrymen were not so plentifully scattered then as they are now), and every minute of the day we were annoyed by, “I say Paddy, Hilloa Paddy, which way does the bull run?” Taking both of us for Irish, the young devils kept twirling their fingers on their noses, even through the bars of the cage. The poor sergeant, who was a mild good fellow, arranged matters, after all, with the magistrates; the money was to be sent to the injured parties as soon as we joined the regiment, and deducted from our pay—which was done accordingly.
Wilkie, however, continued his pranks, and once while in London when on a visit to St. Paul’s Cathedral, stopped the pendulum of the clock, and set the bells ringing; for this we were again imprisoned, but escaped this time, by paying a fine of five shillings for being drunk, after which nothing occurred till we arrived at Colchester. Here I joined the 1st battalion, then under the command of Colonel Beckwith, afterwards known as General Sir Sidney Beckwith, and was attached to Captain Glass’s company.
Shortly after my arrival, the regiment was ordered to Spain, the campaign having then commenced. But not being perfect in my exercises, I was left behind as depôt, until time and practice had made me a greater proficient in Light Infantry duty. Although this was a necessary consequence to a mere recruit, at that time, I felt not a little mortification at being prevented sharing in the glory, which I believed the regiment about to reap.
As it was, however, I had no great reason to complain. I became an adept in my drill, and a tolerable shot along with some other recruits, before the regiment returned. This took place in the month of January, 1809, at Hythe, where we were at that time stationed, the depôt having moved from Colchester.
The Rifle regiment, it is well known, had distinguished itself, and had suffered severely, especially in the retreat to Corunna under the gallant Moore. From thence, they had embarked for England, where, on their landing, they presented a most deplorable sight. The appearance of the men was squalid and miserable in the extreme. There was scarcely a man amongst them, who had not lost some of his appointments, and many, owing to the horrors of that celebrated retreat, were even without rifles. Their clothing, too, was in tatters, and in such an absolute state of filth as to swarm with vermin. New clothing was immediately served out and the old ordered to be burnt, which order was put into execution at the back of our barracks amid the jests of the men, who congratulated each other on thus getting effectually rid of those myriads of enemies, that had proved such a source of personal discomfort to them abroad.
CHAPTER II.
I join Captain O’Hare’s company—He falls in a passion—The “fair” and “unfair” appointment—Disappointment—Things of a private nature—Tom Crawley—An example—The Hero—How to catch “flats” in “squads”—New way to tap a barrel—A Rifleman’s plan for sweeping chimneys and tap-rooms—Pipe-clay and parade—The regiment embark for Portugal.
Shortly after the return of the regiment, I was drafted into the company commanded by Captain Peter O’Hare; a man whose eccentric habits were equalled only by his extremely ugly countenance. Peter, for that was the cognomen by which he was generally known to the men, was as brave as a lion; and had risen, it was said, to his present commission from the ranks.