A Soldier's Life: Being the Personal Reminiscences of Edwin G. Rundle

by Edwin George Rundle

CHAPTER IV.

We arrived in Halifax, N.S., on January 11th, and quartered in Wellington barracks. We were now waiting the arrival of the left wing, which sailed a few days later but did not reach Halifax till the 10th of February. The gale we encountered spent itself on the Mauritius. She came into port with masts and bulwarks carried away. No one was drowned or injured in the storm. They immediately disembarked and took up their quarters in Wellington barracks.

The left wing of the 2nd Battalion (17th) sailed from Cork on the 9th of January, 1862, having Major Colthurst in command, and, together with some batteries of the Royal Artillery, embarked on the troopship Mauritius. Every possible arrangement had been made by the War Office for the care of these soldiers, and, having regard to the time, they were well provided for. Almost the first thing furnished after the men got on board was a plentiful supply of tobacco; this was followed by kit-bags and warm underclothing, calculated to meet the then severity of the Canadian climate. The men were allotted each a hammock, and the color-sergeants were given a comfortable cabin with six sleeping berths in it and three blankets each; but mattresses and pillows were the result of artistic kit supply arrangements.

The officers had fairly good staterooms, but necessarily were a good deal crowded together. The men's food was hard tack, salt pork (with salt beef on two days of each week), good tea and sugar (no milk, bread or butter), and potatoes and cabbage. A lot of good rum was served out to all twice a day. As both the artillery and infantry had been over six months together in three-piece shelters or bivouacs at Aldershot, with only one blanket each, this ship-board treatment was thought a great luxury. It was at the period just after the Opposition to the English Government had said that the British navy could not sail and the British soldier could not march.

General Pennefather undertook to qualify the army in marching by keeping about fifty thousand of them on their legs to the extent of at least twenty miles per day, often thirty, and as there was no end piece to the shelter tents, most of us were seldom dry, and rarely took off our boots. This resulted in about one-fourth of the command being weeded out, but those left were men such as the Duke of Wellington praised when he said, "He could take his Peninsular Army anywhere and do anything with it." It is true that when Wellington's veterans did get back to barracks their bodies had to have insect lotion and their clothing had to be burnt, but they were all men the Empire could be proud of.

The voyage lasted thirty-one days and was a very rough one. The beautiful horses of the artillery suffered greatly, although they were all strung up in slings. After the first few days five or six were found to be dead each morning, and it was pitiful to see their carcases being thrown overboard. Owing to the length of the voyage, the nice food provided for the officers ran out, and they cheerfully put up with the hard tack and salted meats served to the men. We seldom got on deck, but were a most happy family, excepting those who were seasick, and with few exceptions these were all out of their hammocks after the second week. One poor chap, Sergeant Regan, never got over his sea-sickness, and swore he would never go to sea again. Strange to say, he was the very first man to be ordered home to England again as drill instructor for the Depot, so that he was scarcely on land three months before he had to take his medicine again.

Owing to the very bad weather, the waves got into the habit of breaking over the funnel of the steamer and thereby causing a steam explosion down below. This so worked on the nerves of the stokers that they got up a mutiny, in which the other sailors joined, the object being to force the captain to return the steamer to England. They thought that if this was not done they would share the fate of the horses, and the daily sight of the dead animals was certainly not very encouraging. However, the mutiny was the most absurd undertaking ever attempted by sailors, as we soldiers were nearly all qualified and willing to take their places, which was quite unnecessary, as one or two quick military court-martials took all thoughts of mutiny out of their minds.

When we got to St. John's, Nfld., where we put in for coal, we were all astounded at the amount of snow and ice, and what struck us as funny were the shingled roofs on the houses. But a very short time in Canada taught us that the Canadians knew more about how to live and do in their country than we did.

What we wondered at most when we reached Halifax was, who were those swell-looking soldiers on the wharf with white facings on their overcoats and long swagger leather boots with queer-looking spurs on them. To our surprise and delight, on nearing the dock, we found they were the right wing of our own regiment, newly clothed, and the supposed spurs were only military ice-creepers.

We settled down and anticipated a long stay in this garrison. The 62nd and 63rd were in quarters here when we arrived, but left for St. John, N.B., thus making room for the 16th Bedfordshire. We were quite pleased to meet with our old friends and comrades again, and our social intercourse was extremely pleasant. The city was crowded with all arms of the service which happened to be on the water when the United States yielded to Britain's demands. They were waiting orders to proceed to their destination, which they received, and moved to points in Quebec and Ontario, leaving a sufficient force necessary to garrison and defend Halifax.