‘Perhaps we were not ordered to do all that we did; but we were blackguarded if we didn’t get men, and that was the same thing; and what’s the use of a man if he can’t take a hint?’[7]
‘You must have made a good deal of money in this way.’
‘Money!’ said he, ‘no, no. Did you ever hear of men making money on the recruiting service? They must have come from the north if they did. No, our money didn’t do much good—it all went in raking and drinking. “It melted awa’ like snaw aff a dyke,” as the old women at home would say, and we left Glasgow with bad kitts, and worse constitutions.’
‘Well,’ said I, ‘you may be glad you have left it, for more reasons than one, and I hope you will never return to it.’ The conversation was dropped, and he soon left me; but I could not help thinking how many poor fellows were thus inveigled into a profession they did not like, and rendered miserable the remainder of their lives.
While here I was near losing my life in a very simple manner. There was a garden behind the hospital, which had formerly been a gentleman’s house, kept by a Spanish gardener, who raised vegetables for the Isla market. In it there was a cistern, from which the water ran when required to water the garden; and this was supplied by a contrivance very unlike anything I have seen in Britain, although common enough on the Continent. It was raised from a deep well, by means of pitchers attached to the circumference of a large wheel, which, revolving by the power of a horse and gin, were successively filled and emptied into the cistern. To this cistern the men who were able brought their things to wash; but the gardener, who either thought that the soap used spoiled his vegetables, or from sheer crossness, tried every means in his power to prevent them.
One day, while here dabbling my linen, he came to the cistern in a rage, and seizing my shirts he threw them into a dunghill close by. This act was far from pleasing me, and I applied my fist to his ear in a very unceremonious manner. This he returned, as is the usual custom with Spaniards, by drawing his knife, and making a thrust at me. I saw there was no safety unless in closing with him, to get it out of his hand; but as I got in upon him, he made a lunge at me, and drove it through my coat and shirt, grazing my ribs. I seized the hand which held it with both of mine, and tripped up his heels. We both came to the ground. He was now foaming at the mouth. I could not disengage his hand; and it would have been a doubtful thing who would have prevailed had not some of my comrades come into the garden at that moment. They freed his hand from the knife, which they withdrew and threw it into the cistern. They then left me to manage the Spaniard as I best could, which I found no difficulty in doing, as he could not use his fists with much effect. He, however, managed to bite me several times, before I had done with him.
I was obliged to be extremely cautious after this, as long as I was in the hospital; for I often saw him lurking about, eyeing me like a tiger watching his prey, and, no doubt, if he could have got an opportunity, he would have despatched me.
We had little opportunity of knowing much about the Spaniards here; but what we did know gave us no great idea of them, particularly the lower class. They seemed to be a jealous-minded, vindictive, and cowardly race, grossly ignorant and superstitious. Their soldiers are complete scarecrows, (I speak of them as I found them in every part of Spain,) badly clothed, ill paid, and worse officered. There could not be imagined a more barbarous-looking, grotesque assemblage of men in the world than a Spanish regular regiment. No two men are dressed alike—one wants shoes, another a coat, another has a slip of blanket, with a hole cut in the middle, and his head thrust through it, a lapell hanging before and another behind. It is a rare thing to find one of them with his accoutrements complete; and their arms are kept in such order, that if brought into action, the half of them would be useless. On the march they have no regularity—just like a flock of sheep; and such chattering amongst them, that you would take it for the confusion of tongues at Babel!
They rarely ever succeeded at anything unless Guerilla fighting, and then only when they could take their victims by surprise, or when they were double or triple the number of their enemy.
There are certainly many brave and noble souls amongst them, whose hearts beat high in the cause of liberty, and who have evinced it by their gallant enthusiasm; but unfortunately they are but a small number, in comparison to the millions who are sunk in slavish ignorance and superstition.