The doctor now attempted to tell the story in his way, when the Kilkenny serjeant, being at length a little provoked at the other’s numerous interruptions and contradictions, exclaimed, “Arrah! doctor, be asy; it’s I can tell the counsellor, for it’s I that was in it, and almost kilt too; and that’s more than you were, barring with the fright!”
The doctor gave him a look of sovereign contempt, and me a significant wink, as much as to say, “the fellow is mad, and drunk into the bargain.”
However, the serjeant conquered all opposition, and proceeded to give me the full narrative, in his own dialect. “Counsellor,” said he, “do you know that Chapman—so I think they called him—is as tall as any May-pole?”
“Very well,” said I.
“Well,” said the serjeant, “on the spot near the bog, where the devil could not get at us without drying it first and foremost—there we were drawn up at first, all so neat and tight on the ridge there, one would think us like iron rails, every lad of us. Very well; being firm and fast as aforesaid on the ridge, with the shaking bog by the side of the Chapman’s—bad cess to them, man and beast!—Oh! it was not most agreeable when the French let fly at us without giving us the least notice in life; and by my sowl, they hit some of the boys of our regiment, and that same set them a roaring and calling for a drink of water and the doctor! but the devil a doctor was in it; (can you deny that same?) and his honour, Lord Ormond, our colonel, grew red in the face with anger, or something or other, when he heard the boys bawling for water, and good reason they had, for by my sowl they were kilt sure enuff. So we leathered at the French across the water, and the French leathered at us likewise. Devil such a cracking ever you heard, counsellor, as on that day; and by the same token it would make a dog laugh to see how Captain Shortall with his cannons let fly at the French out of the bushes; and by my sowl, they were not idle either! So, we were all fighting mighty well, as I heard General Lake say in the rear of us; and as I looked round and took off my cap to hurra, I heard the devils roar at my elbow, and saw my poor comrade, Ned Dougherty, staggering back for all the world just as if he was drunk, and the devil a nose on his face any more than on the back of my hand, counsellor, the present minute: and on a second glance at poor Ned, I saw one of his eyes not a whit better off than his nose;—so I called as loud as I could for a doctor, but the devil a one showed.”
The doctor could stand the imputation no longer, and immediately gave the retort not courteous to the serjeant.
“Why, then, do you hear that?” said the serjeant, quite coolly. “Arrah! now, how can you say you were in it? When Ned Dougherty was kilt, you know you were sitting behind the cannon; and the devil a bit of you would have been seen while the powder was going, if the nose was off the general, let alone Ned Dougherty.”
I feared much that my whole inquiries would be frustrated by the increase of this dispute, when one of the country fellows who was by, said, “You’re right enuff, serjeant. It was myself and two boys more, after yees all ran away, that pulled the doctor from under a cart; but we let him go, becaize he towld us he had ten childer and a wife, who would crack her heart if she thought he was slaughtered;—and that’s the truth, and nothing else—though the devil a wife or child ever ye had, doctor.”
I now winked at the doctor not to mind the fellows, and requested the serjeant to go on with the battle.
“And welcome, counsellor,” said he: “stay, where did I leave off? O! ay, at Ned Dougherty’s nose:—very well, poor Ned wasn’t kilt dead; only lost his nose and eye, and is very comfortable now, as he says, in Kilmainham. Very well, as I was saying, we went on slashing away like devils across the water, when, by my sowl, I heard some cracks up at the left of us, and the balls began to whiz all across us, lengthways. ‘What the deuce is this job?’ says I. ‘D—mme if I know,’ said the serjeant-major;—when Captain Millar, the general’s aidycam, comes up full pelt, and orders us to get off as aforesaid. When we heard that same order, we thought we were fairly beat; and so, losing no time, set off as hard as we could to get into Castlebar town again ere the French could take it before us. And then, Chapman’s people, bad chance to them, cried out, ‘Get on! get on!’ and galloped away as if the devil was under their tails, and no more minded the Kilkenny than if we were Norway rats, trampling us up and down, and some of them tumbling over our carcases. You’d think it was a race-course: my ribs were all knocked in, and my collar-bone broken; and—and—that’s all I know, counsellor.”