commenced his aërial flight, and, as may be imagined, it had not much
cooled in its course, so that when he found himself safely landed,
and, as luck would have it, on the top of one of the unfortunates, he
very unceremoniously began taking the change out of his head for all
the disasters of the night, and having quickly demolished the nose and
bunged up both eyes, he (seeing nothing more to be done thereabouts)
next proceeded to pound the unfortunate fellow's head against the
floor, before they succeeded in lugging him off to finish his love
adventure in the watch-house.
That night was the last of Paddy's love and of his adventures in the
City of Dublin. His friends were respectable of their class, and on the
score of his former good conduct, succeeded in appeasing the aggrieved
parties and inducing them to withdraw from the prosecution on condition
that he quitted the city for ever, and, when he had time to reflect
on the position in which the reckless doings of the few hours had
placed him, he was but too happy to subscribe to it, and passing over
to Liverpool enlisted with a recruiting party of ours, and became an
admirable soldier.
Having given two of the soldiers' stories, it may probably be amusing
to my readers to hear one from our side of the wall. It was related by
one of our officers, a young Scotchman, who was a native of the place,
and while I state that I give it to the best of my recollection, I
could have wished, as the tale is a true one, that it had fallen into
the hands of the late lamented author of Waverly, who would have done
greater justice to its merits.
THE OFFICER'S STORY.
On the banks of the river Carron, near the celebrated village of that
name, which shows its glowing fields of fiery furnaces, stirred by ten
thousand imps of darkness, as if all the devils from the nether world
there held perpetual revels, toasting their red hot irons and twisting
them into all manner of fantastic shapes--tea-kettles, ten-pounders,
and ten-penny nails--I say, that near that village--not in the upper
and romantic region of it, where old Norval of yore fished up his
basketful of young Norvals--but about a mile below where the river
winds through the low country, in a bight of it there stands a stately
two-story house, dashed with pale pink and having a tall chimney at
each end, sticking up like a pair of asses' ears. The main building is
supported by a brace of wings not large enough to fly away with it,
but standing in about the same proportions that the elbows of an easy
chair do to its back. The hall door is flanked on each side by a pillar
of stone as thick as my leg, and over it there is a niche in the wall
which in the days of its glory might have had the honour of lodging
Neptune or Nicodemus, but is now devoted exclusively to the loves of
the sparrows.
Viewed at a little distance the mansion still wears a certain air of
imposing gentility--looking like the substantial retreat of one who
had well feathered his nest upon the high seas, or as an adventurer
in foreign lands. But a nearer approach shews that the day of its
glory has long departed, the winds are howling through the glassless
casements, the roof is plastered by the pigeons, the pigs and the
poultry are galloping at large over the ruins of the garden-wall,
luxuriating in its once costly shrubbery, and a turkey is most likely
seen at the hall-door, staring the visitor impertinently in the face,
and blustering as if he would say, "if you want me you must down with
the dust."
Had that same turkey, however, lived some six score years before, in
the life-time, or in the death-time of the last of its lairds, he would
have found himself compelled to gabble to another tune, for in place of
being allowed to insult his guests in his master's hall, he would have
been called upon to share his merry-thought for their amusement at the
festive board.
That the last laird of Abbots-Haugh had lived like a right good country
gentleman all of the olden days, the manner of his death will testify,
for though his living history is lost in the depth of time, his death
is still alive in the recollections of our existing great grandfathers.
He was, to the best of my belief, wifeless and relationless,
nevertheless, when the time approached that "the old man he must die,"
he did as all prudent men do, made his temporal arrangements previous
to the settling of that last debt which he owed to nature.
The laird, it appeared, was not haunted by the fears of most men,
which forbid the inspection of their last testaments, until the
last shovelful of earth has secured their remains from the wrath of
disappointed expectants, and from a conscious dread too that the only
tears that would otherwise be shed at their obsequies, would be by the
undertaker and his assistants with their six big black horses; but the
laird, as before said, was altogether another manner of man, and his
last request was, that certain persons should consider themselves his
executors, that they should open his will the moment the breath was out
of his body, and that they should see his last injunctions faithfully
executed as they hoped that he should rest calmly in his grave.
The laird quietly gave up the ghost, and his last wish was complied
with; when, to the no small astonishment of the executors, the only
bequest which his will decreed was, that every man within a given
distance of his residence was to be invited to the funeral, and that
they were all to be filled blind drunk before the commencement of the
procession!
This was certainly one of the most jovial wills that was ever made by a
dying man, and it was acted upon to the letter.
The appointed day arrived, and so did the guests too; and although the
invitations had only extended to the men, yet did their wives, like
considerate folks as they always are, reflect that a dying man cannot
have all his wits about him, and had any one but taken the trouble to
remind him that there were such things as angels even in this world,
they would no doubt have been included, and with that view of the case
they considered it their duty to give their aid in the _mournful_
ceremony.
The duties of the day at length began as was usual on those days, by--
"One-mile prayers and half-mile graces,"
to which the assembled multitude impatiently listened with their
"Toom wames and lang wry faces."
That ceremony over, they proceeded with all due diligence to honour the
last request of the departed laird.
The droves of bullocks, sheep, and turkeys, which had been sacrificed
for the occasion, were served up at mid-day, and as every description
of foreign and British wines, spirits, and ales flowed in pailfuls, the
executors indulged in the very reasonable expectation that the whole
party would be sufficiently glorious to authorize their proceeding with
their last duty so as to have it over before dark: but they had grossly
miscalculated the capacities of their guests, for even at dusk when
they considered themselves compelled to put the procession in motion at
all hazards, it was found that many of them were not more than "half
seas over."
The distance from Abbots-Haugh to the dormitory of the parish-church
is nearly two miles, the first half of the road runs still between two
broad deep ditches which convey the drainings of these lowlands into
the river; the other half is now changed by the intersection of the
great canal, but an avenue formed by two quick-set hedge-rows still
marks its former line.
Doctor Mac Adam had not in those days begun to disturb the bowels of
the harmless earth, by digging for stones wherewith to deface its
surface, so that the roads were perfect evergreens, (when nobody
travelled upon them,) but at the period I speak of, a series of
wet weather and perpetual use had converted them into a sort of
hodge-podge, which contributed nothing towards maintaining the gravity
of the unsteady multitude now in motion, so that although the hearse
started with some five or six hundred followers, all faithful and
honest in their purpose to see the end of the ceremony, there were
not above as many dozens who succeeded in following it into the
church-yard, which it reached about midnight. These few however went on
in the discharge of their duty and proceeded to remove the coffin from
the hearse to its intended receptacle, but to their utter consternation
there was no longer a coffin or a corpse there!
Tam O'Shanter lived a generation later than the period of my history,
and I believe that there were few Scotchmen even in his days who were
altogether free from supernatural dread however well primed with
whiskey; but certain it is, that on this occasion every bonnet that
was not on a bald head rose an inch or two higher, and many of them
were pitched off altogether, as they began to reason (where reason
there was none) as to the probable flight of the coffin; and though
they were unanimously of opinion that it had gone the Lord knows where,
yet they at last agreed that it was nevertheless a duty they owed the
deceased to go back to Abbots-Haugh and inquire whether the laird had
not returned. They accordingly provided themselves with lanterns, and
examined all parts of the road on their way back, which was easily
traced by the sleeping and besotted persons of the funeral party which
formed a continuous link from the one place to the other--some lying in
the road--some stuck fast in the hedges, but the majority three parts
drowned in the ditches. When our return party arrived near the site
of the present distillery, which happened to be the deepest part of
the way, they heard something floundering at a frightful rate at the
edge of a pool of water on the road side, and which, on examination,
proved to be a huge old woman who was in the habit of supplying the
farmers in that part of the country with loaf bread for their Sunday's
breakfasts; she was holding on fiercely by what appeared to be the
stump of a tree, while her nether end was immersed in the water,
but when they went to pull her out, they found to their delight and
astonishment that she was actually holding on by the end of the lost
coffin, which had fallen at the edge of the pool. Old Nelly could give
no information as to how it got there, she had some recollection of
having been shoved into the hearse at first starting, but knew nothing
more until she found herself up to her _oxters_ in the water, holding
fast by something--that she had bawled until she was hoarse, and had
now nothing but a kick left to tell the passers by that a poor creature
was perishing. She had most probably been reposing on the coffin as a
place of rest, and been jolted a step beyond it when the two fell out.
A council was now called to determine the proper mode of further
proceeding, when it was moved and carried that a vote of censure be
passed upon the executors for having failed to fulfil the provisions of
the laird's will, for in place of being drunk, as they ought to have
been, they were all shamefully sober; secondly, that it was in vain
to repeat the attempt to bury him until the conditions upon which he
died were complied with, for he had pledged himself not to rest quiet
in his grave if it was neglected, and it was evident from what he had
already done that he was not to be humbugged, but would again slip
through their fingers unless justice was done to his memory, and it
was therefore finally resolved that the laird be carried back to his
own hall, there to lie in state until the terms of his testament were
confirmed and ratified beyond dispute.
Back, therefore, they went to Abbots-Haugh, and set themselves again
right honestly to work, as good and loyal vassals to obey their
master's last behests, and that they at length succeeded in laying the
restless spirit may be inferred from the fact that it was the afternoon
of the third day from that time before the party felt themselves in
a condition to renew the attempt to complete the ceremony; however
it was then done effectually, as for fear of accidents, and not to
lose sight of the coffin a second time, as many as there was room for
took post on the top of it, provided with the means of finishing, at
their destination, what the defunct might have considered underdone
on their departure. And accordingly when they had at last succeeded
in depositing the coffin within the family vault, and had set the
bricklayers to work, they renewed their revels in the church-yard,
until they finally saw the tomb closed over one of the most eccentric
characters that ever went into it.
I shall now take leave of tales, and recommence the narration of
passing events by mentioning that while we remained at Valle, one of
our officers made an amusing attempt to get up a pack of hounds. He
offered a dollar a head for anything in the shape of a dog that might
be brought to him, which in a very short time furnished his kennel
with about fifteen couple, composed of poodles, sheep-dogs, curs, and
every species but the one that was wanted. When their numbers became
sufficiently formidable to justify the hope that there might be a few
noses in the crowd gifted with the sense of smelling something more
game than their porridge-pots; the essay was made, but they proved a
most ungrateful pack, for they were no sooner at liberty than every one
went howling away to his own home as if a tin kettle had been tied to
his tail. (A prophetic sort of feeling of what would inevitably have
befallen him had he remained a short time longer.)
Scotchmen are generally famed for the size of their noses, and I know
not whether it is that on service they get too much crammed with snuff
and gunpowder, or from what other cause, but certain it is that they do
not prove themselves such useful appendages to the countenance there
as they do in their own country, in scenting out whatever seemeth good
unto the wearer, for I remember one day, while waging war against the
snipes on the flooded banks of the Rio Maior, in passing by the rear
of a large country house which was occupied by the commander-in-chief
of the cavalry, (Sir Stapleton Cotton,) I was quite horrified to find
myself all at once amidst the ruins of at least twenty dozen of sheep's
heads, unskinned and unsinged, to the utter disgrace of about two
thousand highland noses belonging to the forty-second and seventy-ninth
regiments, which had, all the while of their accumulation, been lodged
within a mile, and not over and above well provided with that national
standing dish.
I will venture to say, that had such a deposit been made any evening on
the North Inch of Perth in the days of their great grandfathers, there
would have been an instinctive gathering of all the clans between the
Tay and Cairngorum before day-light next morning.
CHAP. VII.
"Blood and destruction shall be so in use,
And dreadful objects so familiar,
That mothers shall but smile when they behold
Their infants quartered with the hands of war."
The month of March, eighteen hundred and eleven, showed the successful
workings of Lord Wellington's admirable arrangements. The hitherto
victorious French army, which, under their "spoilt child of fortune,"
had advanced to certain conquest, were now obliged to bundle up their
traps and march back again, leaving nearly half their numbers to fatten
the land which they had beggared. They had fallen, too, on nameless
ground, in sickness and in want, and without a shot, by which their
friends and relatives might otherwise have proudly pointed to the
graves they filled.
Portugal, at that period, presented a picture of sadness and desolation
which it is sickening to think of--its churches spoliated, its villages
fired, and its towns depopulated.
It was no uncommon sight, on entering a cottage, to see in one
apartment some individuals of the same family dying of want, some
perishing under the brutal treatment of their oppressors, and some
(preferring death to dishonour) lying butchered upon their own hearths.
These were scenes which no Briton could behold without raising his
voice in thanksgiving to the Author of all good, that the home of his
childhood had been preserved from such fearful visitations; and yet
how melancholy it is to reflect that even in that cherished home there
should be many self-styled patriots, who not only grumble at, but would
deny their country's pittance to those who devoted the best part of
their lives, sacrificed their health, and cheerfully scattered their
limbs in rolling the tide of battle from its door.
I lament it feelingly but not selfishly, for as far as I am
individually concerned, my country and I are quits. I passed through
the fiery ordeal of these bloody times and came out scatheless. While
I parted from its service on the score of expediency, it is to me a
source of pride to reflect (may I be pardoned the expression) that we
parted with mutual regret. That she may never again require a re-union
with such an humble individual as myself may heaven in its infinite
mercy forfend; but if she does, I am happy in the feeling that I have
still health and strength, and a heart and soul devoted to her cause.
Massena's retreat having again called the sword from its scabbard,
where it had slumbered for months, it was long ere it had another
opportunity of running to rust through idleness, seeing that it was not
only in daily communication with the _heads_ of the enemy's corps in
the course of their return through Portugal, but wherever else these
same heads were visible, and for a year and a half from that date they
were rarely out of sight.
On the 9th, we came up with their rear-guard on a table land near
Pombal. We had no force with which to make any serious attack upon it,
so that it was a day's dragooning, "all cry and little wool." We had
one company mixed among them from day-light until dark, but they came
back to us without a scratch.
On the morning of the 11th, finding that the enemy had withdrawn from
the scene of the former day's skirmish, we moved in pursuit towards
the town, which they still occupied as an advanced post. Two of our
companies, with some Caçadores and a squadron of the royal dragoons,
made a dash into it, driving the enemy out, and along with a number of
prisoners captured the baggage of young Soult.
I know not whether young Soult was the son of old Soult or only the
son of his father; all I know is, that by the letters found in his
portmanteau, he was the colonel of that name.
His baggage, I remember, was mounted on a stately white horse with a
Roman nose and a rat tail, which last I believe is rather an unusual
appendage to a horse of that colour, but he was a waggish looking
fellow, and probably had shaken all the hairs out of his tail in
laughing at the contents of the portmanteau of which he was the bearer.
He and his load were brought to the hammer the same day by his captors,
and excited much merriment among us. I wish that I felt myself at
liberty to publish an inventory of the contents of a French officer's
portmanteau, but as they excited such excess of laughter in a horse
I fear it would prove fatal to my readers--not to mention (as I see
written on some of the snug corners of our thoroughfares) that "decency
forbids." Suffice it that it abounded in luxuries which we dreamt not
of.
Next day, the 12th, in following the retiring foe we came to the field
of Redinha. I have never in the course of my subsequent military
career seen a more splendid picture of war than was there shewn.
Ney commanded the opposing force, which was formed on the table land
in front of the town in the most imposing shape. We light folks were
employed in the early part of the action in clearing the opposing
_lights_ from the woods which flanked his position, and in the course
of an hour about thirty thousand British, as if by magic, were seen
advancing on the plain in three lines, with the order and precision of
a field day: the French disappeared before them like snow under the
influence of a summer's sun. The forces on both sides were handled by
masters in the art.
A late lady writer (Miss Pardoe) I see has now peopled Redinha with
banditti, and as far as my remembrance goes, they could not have
selected a more favourable position, with this single but important
professional drawback, that there can be but few folks thereabout worth
robbing.
I know not what class of beings were its former tenants, but at the
time I speak of, the curse of the Mac Gregors was upon them, for the
retiring enemy had given
"Their roofs to the flames and their flesh to the eagles,"
and there seemed to be no one left to record its history.
After the peace, in 1814, I met, at a ball in Castel Sarrazin, the
colonel who commanded the regiment opposed to us in the wood on that
occasion. He confessed that he had never been so roughly handled, and
had lost four hundred of his men. He was rather a rough sort of a
diamond himself, and seemed anxious to keep his professional hand in
practice, for he quarreled that same night with one of his countrymen
and was bled next morning with a small sword.
From Redinha we proceeded near to Condeixa, and passed that day and
night on the road side in comparative peace. Not so the next, for at
Casal Nova, on the 14th, we breakfasted, dined, and supped on powder
and ball.
Our general of division was on leave of absence in England during
this important period, and it was our curse in the interim to fall
into the hands successively of two or three of the worthiest and best
of men, but whose only claims to distinction as officers was their
sheet of parchment. The consequence was, that whenever there was any
thing of importance going on, we were invariably found leaving undone
those things which we ought to have done, and doing that which we
ought not to have done. On the occasion referred to we were the whole
day battering our brains out against stone walls at a great sacrifice
of life, whereas, had we waited with common prudence until the proper
period, when the flank movements going on under the direction of our
illustrious chief had begun to take effect, the whole of the loss would
have been on the other side, but as it was, I am afraid that although
we carried our point we were the greatest sufferers. Our battalion had
to lament the loss of two very valuable officers on that occasion,
Major Stewart and Lieutenant Strode.
At the commencement of the action, just as the mist of the morning
began to clear away, a section of our company was thrown forward among
the skirmishers, while the other three remained in reserve behind a
gentle eminence, and the officer commanding it, seeing a piece of
rising ground close to the left, which gave him some uneasiness, he
desired me to take a man with me to the top of it, and to give him
notice if the enemy attempted any movement on that side. We got to
the top; but if we had not found a couple of good sized stones on the
spot, which afforded shelter at the moment, we should never have got
any where else, for I don't think they expended less than a thousand
shots upon us in the course of a few minutes. My companion, John Rouse,
a steady sturdy old rifleman, no sooner found himself snugly covered,
than he lugged out his rifle to give them one in return, but the
slightest exposure brought a dozen balls to the spot in an instant,
and I was amused to see old Rouse, at every attempt, jerking back his
head with a sort of knowing grin, as if it were only a parcel of
schoolboys, on the other side, threatening him with snow-balls; but
seeing, at last, that his time for action was not yet come, he withdrew
his rifle, and, knowing my inexperience in those matters, he very
good-naturedly called to me not to expose myself looking out just then,
for, said he, "there will be no moving among them while this shower
continues."
When the shower ceased we found that they had also ceased to hold
their formidable post, and, as quickly as may be, we were to be seen
standing in their old shoes, mixed up with some of the forty-third, and
among them the gallant Napier, the present historian of the Peninsular
War, who there got a ball through his body which seemed to me to have
reduced the remainder of his personal history to the compass of a
simple paragraph: it nevertheless kept him but a very short while in
the back-ground.
I may here remark that the members of that distinguished family were
singularly unfortunate in that way, as they were rarely ever in any
serious action in which one or all of them did not get hit.