TRANSCRIBER’S NOTE
Italic text is denoted by _underscores_.
The two Footnotes in the book have been placed at the end of the
book; the anchors are [A] and [B].
Some minor changes to the text are noted at the end of the book.
TWELVE YEARS
IN
THE ARMY;
OR,
THE INCIDENTS
OF A
SOLDIER’S LIFE.
BY JOHN G. GOLLAN,
LATE CORPORAL H. M. 79TH CAMERON HIGHLANDERS.
ELGIN:
PRINTED AT THE “MORAYSHIRE ADVERTISER” OFFICE,
BY J. M‘GILLIVRAY & SON.
MDCCCLXIV.
“We leave
Our home in youth--no matter to
What end--study, or strife, or pleasure,
Or what not; and coming back in
A few short years, we find all as we left
It outside--the old elms, the house,
The grass, gates, and latchet’s selfsame
Click. But lift the latchet--
All is changed as doom.”--MONTGOMERY.
PREFACE.
In writing the following incidents of a soldier’s life during his
career in the army, I would, in the first place, throw myself upon
the indulgence of a generous people. Not being a man of letters,
I am rather doubtful of the present little work meeting with that
support which I at one time anticipated; but be it understood that I
am the son of poor and humble parents, and my education consequently
limited. After having undergone the severe sufferings and dangers of
a soldier’s life, as represented in this little work, I feel that my
constitution, once vigorous, is now broken; and it is by the desire
of a few of my brave companions in arms that I write the following
facts, that the public may appreciate the value of the soldier. The
few verses of poetry which I have added to this little work will be
very interesting to those of poetic feeling. The language expressed
in these simple lines is from the heart of him who so often took
part in the carnage and strife of the late war, and in my calm and
reflective moments I penned in rhyme these verses of my poetic
imagination.
THE AUTHOR.
TWELVE YEARS IN THE ARMY;
OR,
THE INCIDENTS OF A SOLDIER’S LIFE.
CHAPTER I.
INTRODUCTORY--MY ENLISTMENT.
I do not wish to enter into the genealogy of my family,
notwithstanding I was asked to do so by some friends on several
occasions when talking over the past few years of my life in the
army. This I find to be rather a delicate subject, and one that I am
not prepared for. It would matter but little to any of my readers, as
I am of obscure and humble parentage. Had any of my forefathers shone
in the busy scenes that take place amongst us from time to time, I
would have every chance of being known and made known to many of my
fellow-countrymen, and my late sufferings and many narrow escapes,
which I endured while in the service of my Queen and country, would
at times be felt with pain and pleasure. Suffice it, then, to say,
that I am an Invernesian by birth--a true-born _Clachnacuddin_.
The most of my early days were spent in the capital of the Highlands.
Often have I followed the sound of the pibroch, and went along with
the recruiting parties, headed by their sergeant with his sword
drawn, marching up one street and down another. What a gay life
(I thought to myself) to be a soldier!--buckle, shoe, and sporan
dazzling in the sun--also their head-dress, so soldier-like, and all
arrayed in fine order. What a delusion! What a difference there is
in the soldier’s life when in the camp and field--in front of the
foe, surrounded on all sides with danger! Not so here at Inverness,
where my young and ardent bosom became inflamed to be a soldier,
buoyed up with the idea of thinking it quite a gentleman’s life. But
it would be well for every man who wears a red coat to go on active
service: it is there and only there he can get a thorough knowledge
of his position. The party at Inverness would talk of battles,
sieges, narrow escapes, and so on, which led me to believe that to be
a soldier would open the way to fame and honour. At this time I was
but fourteen years of age, and of course I was not as yet able to be
a soldier; but I trusted that the time would soon come when I would
stand five feet seven inches. Ah, yes! that day did come, and I have,
by sad experience, undergone the trials of a soldier’s life.
I spent a good many of my early days with a relation--a gentleman of
small estate, near Fort-George--who acted to me with the kindness
of a father. When at this place I was in the habit of going to
Fort-George, and my desire became strengthened of becoming a soldier.
When I saw them going through their evolutions--large gun drill,
firing salutes, and so on--it would often bring to my mind what the
Inverness party used to say of a soldier’s life being all glory and
honour. A Highland regiment, or part of a regiment, lay at this time
at Fort-George. One morning, as I went down to the little village of
Campbeltown for letters, I fell in with a sergeant who was residing
at the Fort. (In after years, in the late Crimean war, I was standing
by his side in the trenches in front of Sebastopol when he was struck
by the splinter of a shell and killed on the spot; and little did I
know when I saw him that morning at Campbeltown that I would be so
close to him when he lost his life.) The first thing I asked him was
if he thought I was height enough, as I wished very much to become a
soldier. I recollect of his taking me to a public-house and measuring
me, but I was one inch below the standard. This stung me a little,
as my mind was now fully made up to join the army. However, I went
home, and a few days after this little affair happened, my kind
friend and benefactor, with whom I was at this time staying, sent me
to a day-school at Nairn, always telling me that I must be diligent
and learn at school, as he intended to do something for me. I soon
tired of this work at Nairn. A field-day at Fort-George would always
whisper, honour and fame is all I want.
After staying at Nairn for two summers, I left and went to Inverness,
my native town. I was still below the standard, and the recruiting
parties would often tell me I was too little for anything. I met
in at this time with an old schoolmate, who told me he was going to
Edinburgh, and that if I would go along with him he would pay my
fare to that city. I agreed, and was ready in a week from that time.
I kept my father and the rest of the family in the dark regarding
this. The day arrived, and my friend and I left for Edinburgh. A few
days after our arrival I went to visit the Castle. The Castle was
garrisoned by the 79th Cameron Highlanders, and to this gallant corps
I volunteered my services. They were accepted. I went through all the
forms that a recruit has to go through when he enlists, and my name
was enrolled in the 79th, and I became a Cameron Highlander.