LIKENESSES.
About the period of which I am now writing, the service of a number
of our men expired. Where they were good characters they were
strongly pressed to re-enlist; but many of them seemed to be satiated
with their seven years’ apprenticeship,—among the others, some of
my comrade sergeants, who were induced to leave the service in
disgust at the conduct of some of their officers, one in particular,
whose situation brought him in closer contact with them. He had
risen from the ranks to the situation which he then held, by dint
of a species of _noisy activity_, which was at that time in great
request. It was not enough to bid a man do a thing, but the command
must be accompanied with a few oaths, in a stentorian voice, that
roused every echo within a mile; and it would have been diverting
and ludicrous in the extreme, to a person unaccustomed to the
business, to hear an order given by the commanding officer when in
the field, ringing along through the chain of underlings, increasing
in strength and vociferation, until it reached the quarter for which
it was intended. I am not sure whether I have conveyed to the reader
a clear idea of what I wish to describe; but if he has ever been
along-side a dog kennel, and watched the progress of their sweet
voices, from the first note sounded by the master of the band, until
the whole pack, tagrag and bobtail, joined in the melodious concert,
he will have some notion of what I mean. The officer in question
considered this quality so essentially necessary to the character
of a non-commissioned officer, that those who did not abuse or
blackguard the men under their command, were considered unfit for the
situation. So particular was he in this respect, that if he heard of
a sergeant being praised by his company, that individual was set down
in his mind as a candidate for the first private’s coat that might be
vacant. ‘You are one of the good fellows, I believe,’ he would say,
addressing the offending non-commissioned officer, ‘Damme, I’ll good
fellow ye.’
He had a system of favouritism which he pursued in the corps, to the
almost total exclusion of any, but those _he_ recommended to the
situation of a non-commissioned officer. The power he possessed to do
this was partly acquired by his own presumption, and partly by the
indolence or apathy of the officer commanding. The result, however,
was, that men were promoted to the situation who could not write
their own name: being consequently dependent on their inferiors for
doing their duty, they could scarcely be very fit persons to hold
the situation, and as they could not help being conscious of their
inability, it must have been irksome and unpleasant to themselves. In
this, however, they were the more like himself, for without any great
stretch of imagination, his writing might have been mistaken for
Arabic; as to the other parts of a gentleman’s education, he knows
best whether he possessed them or not.
But I am digressing—I was talking of the sergeants leaving the corps
when their period of service expired. Several of them were sent
for, and promised great things if they would re-enlist; but from
the reason I have already mentioned, they declined doing so. The
consequence was, that during the short time they remained in the
regiment, they were treated by him in the harshest manner; this was
low, illiberal conduct, and certainly did no good to the service.
In the absence of senior officers, we were some time under the
command of a young man, who was newly promoted to the rank of major.
He had the elements of a good commanding officer in him, and in his
discipline endeavoured to copy Colonel Lloyd; but the nervous manly
spirit was wanting—the perfect self-confidence in his own powers
and judgment, which the original possessed. Vacillating and infirm
of purpose, he was alternately led by some officer or another; and
although he disliked the one whose portrait I have given in the
preceding page, yet he had not resolution enough to oppose the
measures which he carried by dint of impudence. Thus his efforts to
imitate Colonel Lloyd were often rendered farcical. For instance, in
endeavouring to establish the cleanliness and regularity of messing,
which the corps was so remarkable for, while under the command of
Colonel Lloyd, the men were encouraged to provide extra dishes,
on the anniversaries of any of our battles, which, in addition to
the whisky purchased for the occasion, took away a good deal of
their pay, as these red-letter days occurred very frequently. The
consequence was, that the men were getting so much the epicure, in a
small way, that they would willingly have held anniversaries on every
day of the year, had it not been that as the lining inside increased,
the covering of the outside was getting thinner. This, however, soon
wrought its own cure. But after all, Major C—— was a warm-hearted,
feeling gentleman; all he wanted, was experience, and a little more
knowledge of human nature. I have no doubt but by this time he is an
excellent officer.
He was succeeded by one whom I need not name, we all knew him well
enough. The first time I remember him in command of the regiment,
he was superintending a punishment, which he ordered to be given by
tap of drum. As he paced up and down the square, listening to the
cries of the poor wretch, with a countenance, in which the green and
yellow were striving for predominance, with the dark tinge which it
had naturally—‘he grinned horribly a ghastly smile,’ which I think I
see before me at this instant, in all its native deformity; but we
were not much troubled with his company during the fighting days. I
have ransacked my memory, endeavouring to find some good action he
had done while in the corps, to throw into the scale against the rest
of his conduct; but I am obliged to give up the task in despair.
It may be asked, was there no bright reverse to oppose to this
picture? Yes there was,—Captain G——, witty, intelligent, and good
humoured, with his face reflecting all the good qualities of his
heart; Captain D—— C——, the kind and benevolent, who still cherishes
his kindly feeling to the old corps, and has done more for the
individuals who belonged to it than any man in the regiment; Captain
K——, a gentleman of refined manners and education; Captains C——, B——,
and A——; and last, though not least, a man who ought to have been
a major a dozen years ago—he had been in India with the corps, and
commanded the light company through the Peninsula; but he is still a
captain, although many must have passed over his head in the course
of two-and-twenty years. Though rather unpolished in his manners, he
was a good officer—not very eloquent; however, the speech he made to
his company, previous to their being engaged for the first time in
Portugal, will long be remembered:—
‘The French are before you, my lads—let us fight manfully: if we live
we’ll be an honour to our country, and if we die,’ (lowering his
voice,) ‘it’s no great consequence.’
Some may be inclined to think, from my warmth on the subject of
flogging, and the freedom with which I have treated the character
of officers, that I may myself have smarted under the lash; or at
least that I feel envious and disappointed at not being promoted in
the service. When I first set out in my narrative, I resolved to
keep myself in the back ground; and I might have closed my story
without telling the public farther than what they now know, were it
not that my statements might suffer from surmises similar to that I
have mentioned; but for the sake of truth, and in justice to myself
and the service, I think it necessary to state, that I did not long
remain a private. I entered the service at fourteen years of age,
was corporal before I was sixteen, and by the time I attained my
eighteenth year, I had risen to that rank which few men who enlist as
private soldiers can ever hope to pass in the British army. During
my service, I have held situations that required something more
than ordinary ability and steadiness, and I possess testimonials
of character from my various commanding officers that I have every
reason to be proud of.
If I have spoken freely of the abuse of power in the army, I have
done it through a natural hatred to oppression and tyranny, which
every thinking man must feel; and as a subject of a free and
enlightened country, I claim a right to speak my sentiments. I have
no prejudice against the aristocracy of the army—far from it—there
are many of them whom I esteem and respect—many of them intelligent
and liberal-minded men, who would do honour to any profession; but
there are also others of a different stamp, supercilious, overbearing
tyrants, who think their fellow-men created to be their slaves, and
ignorant, swaggering coxcombs, whose puppyism must disgust all under
their command. I have spoken of them as they merited,—let each claim
his meed of praise or censure as he may think himself deserving it.
I believe few people set out in life with higher notions of rank
or greatness than I did. The reading I indulged tended to increase
it,—even the favourite tragedy[20] which we were in the habit of
reciting on Saturday in school, taught me that there was something
in noble blood that shone in the countenance, and inflamed the
heart, though the possessor were born in a shed, and bred among
beggars—some impress that marked the refined gold of creation. This
was imposing in theory, and finely calculated for the ideal world I
then lived in; but when I entered upon the stage of the great world,
and had an opportunity of seeing those favoured individuals, I felt
as much disappointment as the poor woman, who ran half-a-dozen miles
to see the king, and after all discovered that he was only a man.
The result was, that I learned to look on gold lace and epaulettes
without being dazzled, and in forming my opinion of the individual,
to go a little deeper than his splendid outside. The haughty
contempt or insolence of a superior, and the cringing sycophancy of
understrappers, many of whom were ready to hunt down on the slightest
hint any poor devil who had the misfortune to incur the displeasure
of his officer, gave me the keenest mortification; but it threw me on
my own energies, and taught me to exist within myself, independent
of the smiles or frowns of those around me: although my body was
constrained, my soul was free—and I could detest a tyrant, and
despise a blockhead, whatever his rank might be.
Let it not be thought, however, that I dislike men, because they
stand above me in the scale of society—far from it. Where they are
good men, I respect and esteem them the more, that they are so in
spite of the power and temptation they have to be the contrary. I
have invariably found, that the real gentleman is mild and unassuming
in his manners, and possesses more feeling for his fellow-creatures,
than those who start into rank or wealth.
FOOTNOTES:
[20] ‘Douglas,’ which I admire for its composition and dramatic
effect; but detest for the venal sentiments which it is calculated to
convey.