CHAPTER XXVIII.
The few months which I spent with the second battalion in Glasgow, were so extremely barren of incident, that I shall pass them over in silence. The regiment quitted the metropolis of the West on the 1st, and occupied the Castle of Edinburgh on the 3d of August 1814. On the 16th of the same month, I, along with seven officers and 140 men returned to Glasgow, and from thence went to Greenock to embark for the first battalion in Ireland. On our arrival at the place of embarkation on the 21st, we were not a little astonished to find that the transports had quitted the harbour that morning empty. Three other detachments marched in on the same day, but the whole were ordered to rejoin their second battalions. We remained in Greenock nearly three weeks, to our great personal discomfort, and the manifest injury of our purses. An order at length arrived for us to proceed to Glasgow, whence two of the officers, and all the men, returned to Edinburgh, and the rest joined the first battalion then quartered in Fermoy. In November I returned to Scotland, where I remained until April 1815, when I joined my old companions, then on the eve of embarking for Belgium.
Being quite unprepared for such an event, the return of the Exile of Elba to France produced varied sensations in the breasts of the members of the British army. Those who, during the previous contest, had ascended the ladder of promotion at a pace little swifter than that of the snail, viewed the prospect of another interminable contest with no very agreeable feelings. Those who had friends who could give them an additional hitch up the ladder, or help them to some snug staff situation, were quite delighted on the occasion. A third class, if their assertions could be credited, were more anxious to have a place assigned them within point blank shot of the enemy's artillery, than one, far removed from the scene of danger. But who for a moment could give credit to such an asseveration? Where is the man, who, having a choice of alternatives, would not rather prefer remaining in a place of security with honour, than rush into one where the chances are decidedly against his escaping without a severe or a mortal wound? Point him out, and he shall very soon be told, that either he possesses the spirit of a demon, or he longs to commit a suicidal crime,—for nothing but an unquenchable thirst after human blood, or a sincere desire to quit this world, could make any man prefer a scene of strife and slaughter, to one of peace and honourable repose.
War, the last remedy for the cure of national complaints, should never be applied until every other has proved ineffectual. It ought never to be undertaken but on just grounds, for those who engage in it from motives of interest or ambition, become accountable for all the crimes that are committed,—the property destroyed,—and the human blood shed daring its continuance. Happy would it have been for Napoleon Bonaparte, for France, and for all those countries into which he carried his arms, had he viewed war in this light, and considered it more glorious to employ his military talents in defence of his people, and in securing them all the blessings of a lasting peace, than engaging in hazardous enterprises, from which he never could have expected any greater reward than a portion of that phantom glory, which in all ages has proved the ruin and the death of millions.
A conqueror such as Napoleon, who has acquired military renown by the ruin of empires, and the death of millions, cannot be compared to any thing more aptly than a flood, which destroys every thing in its course,—or to a beast of prey, which delights in blood and slaughter. Man being naturally active and restless, seldom fails, when not usefully employed, to engage in enterprises which but too often injure himself or others. Of this fact Napoleon furnishes us with ample proof. Whenever he had no immediate prospect of advancing his darling object in France, that instant he cast his eye over Europe—selected an antagonist—picked a quarrel with him—put his armies in motion—and then trampled upon the rights and liberties of every nation through which he marched his troops to the scene of action. His towering ambition aimed at nothing less than universal monarchy; to attain which he waded through rivers of blood. For many years neither rocks, mountains, deserts, seas, nor rivers, could check his desolating course.
These facts being fresh in the recollection of the allied sovereigns, the ex-Emperor's landing in France was no sooner communicated to them at Vienna, than the clang of arms resounded throughout every corner of continental Europe,—the trumpet of war again sounded the dreadful note of preparation, and those warriors, who in the previous campaigns had lent their aid to break the charm of French invincibility, were,—when almost on the threshold of their peaceful habitations,—ordered to retrace their steps, without tasting of any of those sweets which a meeting of friends after a long absence never fails to produce.
Having previously purchased a comfortable sea-stock, and supplied ourselves with whatever was necessary for a long campaign on the continent, we left Cork barracks on the 1st of May, and the same afternoon embarked at Cove. Early on the 3d we prepared to depart, and were clear of the harbour before mid-day. Scudding along with a favourable gale, we passed between the Rocks of Scilly and the Land's End on the morning of the 5th, looked into Plymouth on the 6th; Portsmouth on the 7th; passed Dungeness on the 8th, and next day dropped anchor two miles from Ostend. In the afternoon a few of the troops were landed, and the rest on the following morning. In the evening of the 10th we moved along the Ghent canal in long boats, as far as Bruges, where we halted till sun-rise on the 11th, when we resumed our voyage, and at eight o'clock in the evening cast anchor at Ghent.
The city of Ghent, or Gand, is situated on the Scheldt, and at an equal distance from Ostend and Brussels, viz. from twenty-six to thirty miles. The city possesses a spacious market-place, which on market days is almost completely covered with the booths of itinerant merchants. Its streets are spacious and clean, but are cut in numerous places by canals, which intersect each other so in various parts of the city, that to connect the islands on which the town stands, no fewer than three hundred and twenty-eight bridges were then necessary. In consequence of this, the city covers an amazing space of ground, nearly double that occupied by the city of Edinburgh, though the population does not amount to half the number of the latter. In every quarter of the town we were treated with great hospitality by the people, who were really angry if we would not consent to live with them.
When Louis XVIII. found himself compelled by the defection of his troops to leave his native country, he retired in the first instance to Ostend, and subsequently to Ghent, where a suitable residence was provided for him by the king of the Netherlands. During our stay in this city we were afforded repeated opportunities of testifying to the exiled monarch, how deeply we sympathized with him on his recent misfortunes. He took a daily airing in a coach and four, and was generally accompanied by a detachment of the garde-du-corps. For a few days after we went to Ghent, gentlemen were admitted to the royal presence during dinner; a piece of very ridiculous and troublesome condescension. A guard of British troops went on duty at the temporary palace every day, and the officers dined at one of the tables, where a senior officer of the household troops always presided.
At day-break on the 27th of May, the 28th, 32d, 42d, 44th, 79th, and 92d regiments, and 3d battalion rifle corps, marched from Ghent, under the command of Colonel Cameron, 92d, to Alost, and next morning continued their route to Brussels. At Alost, a French officer, in the suite of Louis XVIII., but who had held a commission in the British service for twenty-one years, informed us that he was present when Marshal Ney bedewed the king's hands with tears, on taking leave to bring Bonaparte to Paris in an iron cage. He described the interview as so extremely interesting, that not only His Majesty, but all who witnessed it, were sensibly affected. From that time the Bourbon adherents were pleased to bestow on the gallant Marshal, the name which above all others is the most abhorrent to the ear of a Christian—"Judas Ney."