3. We now removed to Mastricht. Soon after my master parted with the horses I took care of, and recommended me to another master. But I stayed with him only a fortnight, before I relapsed into drunkenness, and was persuaded to inlist among the Welch Fusileers, in the year 1747. I remained at camp till Michaelmas: thence we marched to Rudenburgh, where I remained all the winter. On the first day of March, 1748, we marched to Ruremond, where we encamped, tho’ the weather was cold and the snow deep. After the cessation of arms, we removed from place to place, till in November we came to Williamstadt.
4. Here we lay five weeks on board the Seaflower, a ship belonging to Whitby. On December 18, new stile, we set sail for Burnt-island: our ship having 41 horses on board. About sun-rise, just as we got over the bar, it looking as if we should have hard weather, the man of war that sailed with us prepared for it, backing his sails, and making fast his guns. Before we lost sight of land, we saw one of the transports break her yard. Soon after we came up along-side of a man of war, who advised us, to take in some of our sails. But our captain, being head strong, did not regard him, but kept all his sails set, except the main-top-gallant. About two hours before sun-set, it blew a hurricane; and we having but few sailors, before they were able to furl the sails, the wind tore them all in pieces. And it was well it did. For we lay gunnel to; so that had the sails stood, we must have overset. Suddenly a great outcry was made below, that the horses were broke loose. I ran down and found seven of them had broke loose, which made the rest so wild, that we were obliged to kill them all but one. But it was six days before we could get them over-board: during which the smell was so offensive, that it made the whole ship’s crew sick. Two days after we saw the shore; but we could not possibly make it, the wind was so high. We then endeavoured to make Aberdeen: but were beat to sea again. The next morning we lost sight of land, the weather continued as before for five days. The sixth, at day-break, we were surprised to see in the midst of the sea a rock very high out of the water, and the ship was almost upon it: so all hands were called. The captain standing on the deck, cried, “O my ship, my ship.” Some of the soldiers cursed him for disheartening them, he answered, “You need not swear and curse, for you may look over the side of the ship, and see your graves.” Many were then frighted, and some went to prayer. When we got to the lee-side of the rock, we strove to anchor; but the wind blew so hard, and the sea was so rough, we could not. The ship was now taking in water apace, so that we had two foot water in our hold already. Ten soldiers were employed, of whom I was one, to [♦]bale the water out with their camp-kettles. In a little while our steward perished with cold, as did the carpenter soon after. And several of the boys had their limbs frozen, so that they were unable to work. Eight soldiers who had been on board a man of war were ordered to supply their place.
[♦] “hale” replaced with “bale”
5. The wind continued to blow hard at south which drove us on the coast of Greenland. We were now so far north that I believe we had not above four hours day-light. The captain now came into the cabin, and cried, “Lord, have mercy upon us! What shall we do? I am afraid we shall be drove so far north, as to have no day-light at all.” Quickly after, he went out of his senses, and was confined in his cabin. But just then the wind shifted from south to north; and Lieutenant Eyres, understanding the theory of navigation, undertook the management of the ship. The 10th of March we came in sight of a rocky coast, but knew not what land it was. We tried to take soundings; but could find no bottom. A strong current ran between the rocks, which was against us: but the wind blew strong for us. We hung out a flag of distress at our main-top-mast, and fired several guns and several platoons.
6. During this distress most in the ship called upon God, and if any man spoke profanely, he was reproved for it. At the same time, a thought came into the minds of many, that there was some grievous sinner in the ship: and all agreed to cast lots, that they might find the man, for whose sake this was come upon us. But they did not execute what they had agreed. Here we remained five days. One who had been a sailor, then swore, that it was the Orkneys we saw, and undertook to bring us safe in. But we had not gone far, before our passage was quite shut up, and we were just upon the rocks. In the morning a man was sent to the main-top-mast head, and ordered to keep a good look-out. Before twelve he cried, “A boat a-head.” Our boat was quickly manned in order to row to them. In a short time they came on board: they brought us into the harbour about sun-set. Here we remained, till we had liberty from the king of Denmark, to come to North-Bergen in Norway. When we came thither, several lost the use of their limbs, and many died in an hospital erected for us. Here we continued a month. Having then repaired our ship, and got a new captain, (for the old one was still disordered) we set sail for Scotland, intending for Burnt-island, which we hoped to reach in a short time.
7. But we had scarce lost sight of land two hours, when another violent storm arose. I then renewed the good resolutions I made in the last, and which I forgot almost as soon as I had made them. It blew exceeding hard; however on April 9, we came with great difficulty to Leith. When we were safe on shore, instead of returning God thanks, I soon fell to my old trade of drunkenness: and during our several removes, I continually plunged deeper and deeper into all manner of wickedness.
8. After being at several other places we marched to Glasgow, where I met with a sober woman, and one that feared God, whom I married and lived comfortably with, till orders came for my remove to England. We past the winter at Dover, where the advice of my wife made such an impression upon me, that I began to take up, and be a good husband, and worked hard to maintain myself and her. So I continued to do at Exeter, where I had a son born, and stayed eleven months. Thence we marched to Plymouth, where we embarked for Minorca. We landed there May 25, and I lived happy with my wife for two months. Then both she and my child were taken sick and died. This was a loss indeed! I believe if she had lived, it would have been the saving of my life.
9. After her death I soon fell back to drunkenness, and to supply the expence of it, took to coining. The next spring, April 20, the French invested the castle of St. Philip. Toward the end of the siege, my companion and I got drunk together and quarrelled: upon which he threatened to inform against me, for which a great reward was offered. Being soon after told that he was gone to give information, I thought there was but one way to save my life. So I and he that told me determined to desert together. In getting out of the castle, I fell into the sea, and was very near being drowned. With much difficulty we then got to an old house, and took shelter therein. But we were between the fire of the French and the English; so we stayed not above a quarter of an hour. I would now fain have returned; but our case was desperate: so we went on hand in hand. As we advanced, the French gave the signal, which was three slaps with their hand on the cartouch-box. As we did not answer it, or speak, (for neither of us could speak French) they immediately fired upon us. But here also the hand of God was over us. The shot all flew over our heads. They then came and took us to the commanding officer, who sent us to the town as prisoners. In the morning we were removed to a prison near one of the general’s quarters, who sent for us about noon, and asked, what our design was? I answered, it was our desire to go into France and work. He said, “this could not be allowed by any means, unless I first serv’d in the army for three years.” I said, I would only comply, on condition I should not serve on the island, he replied, if I would not serve on the island, I must go back to prison, I was going, but he called me back and ask’d, “in what regiment in France would you like to serve?” I answer’d in Fitz-James’s. He said, I should. However for the present, I was remanded to prison. Two days after I was carried before the Duke de Richlieu, who asked me many questions. But I continued a prisoner during the whole siege, and was so, till we came to Valenciennes.
10. Here I was enlisted into Fitz-James’s horse, and continued two months: but with an aking heart. I longed to be in England again, and only waited for an opportunity. This was suspected: so that when we marched hence, I was confined every night, till we got a great way into France. By interceding with the quarter-master, I then got my liberty. After many removes, we marched to Hanau, and from thence about thirty leagues toward Muscovy. Here four of us agreed to desert the next night, and make the best of our way to the Duke of Cumberland’s army. At eleven we set out in thunder, lightning and rain. We took each of us a brace of pistols, with our swords, and plenty of powder and ball. With great difficulty we past the guards, and then not knowing the roads, quickly lost our way: so that at break of day, we had got but nine miles. However we were now got into the right road: but day-light approaching, we went into a wood, and stayed there till six in the evening: having been all this time without victuals, we were weak and faint; however we walk’d all night. In the morning we learn’d from a waggoner, that a party of French horse were within a mile and a half of us. We ask’d what he thought they came there for? He said he knew not unless it was to look for deserters. Upon this, finding no way to get to the duke, we agreed to make for Holland, having changed our clothes with some of the boors, who likewise behaved kindly to us, or we must have perished.
11. Having sold our arms to buy us provisions, after many difficulties and dangers, in passing by both the French and Imperial troops, we at length came to Mastricht. Thence we went to Middleburgh, and afterward to Flushing, where we got on board an English man of war, which the next morning sailed, and brought us into the Downs. The third day after we landed, we were apprehended as deserters, and laid in irons for six days. We were then removed to Brumpton camp, near Chatham, where I was tried by a court martial, for deserting from the castle of St. Philips, which I acknowledg’d and was condemned to die.