RETURN FROM INDIA--MY LOG-BOOK.
March 6th, 1863: Embarked at Kurrachee on board the transport ship
_Cospatrick_, of 1200 tons, and set sail early on the morning of the
7th.
8th: Sunday; slight wind; ship going at the rate of four knots per
hour; Divine service at ten o’clock A.M.; sail in sight, but took no
notice of her.
10th: Great confusion on board this morning, the baggage lying about
the deck; land now faintly descried, and we are soon out of sight
of it altogether, and nothing is seen save the wide expanse of the
ocean, and the sky so serene. What a lovely sight!--how we see the
work and wonders of God in the deep.
11th: Sailing very slow; still, we are thankful to an ever ruling
Hand for bringing us so far and so prosperously on our passage.
13th: The whole of the troops, women, and children, in good health.
Plenty of music, instrumental and vocal, this evening; it helped to
while away the time.
14th: Very good sailing, at the rate of six knots. A private of the
7th Regiment of Foot died early this morning; the funeral service
being read, his body was committed to the deep.
15th: Sunday; rose early this morning; nearly a calm; thanked
Almighty God for His providential care over us. If we only knew how
deeply we are indebted to that Being who careth so much for us;
tossed about on the mighty deep, we cannot but see His almighty
power, and exclaim, with wondrous awe, How the God of all the earth
hath marked everything out in a mysterious way! Our noble vessel
going slowly but steadily on her course.
16th: A fair wind; going at the rate of six knots; nine days at
sea; in latitude 12° north of the line; flying fish in abundance;
observe them skimming above the water. What a sight a troop-ship
such as ours is, composed of so many men of different regiments,
women and children, in all about 400 souls--invalids and time-expired
soldiers. What a difference in going home besides it was some six
years ago when I left Kingstown along with my regiment; how smoothly
and correctly everything went at that time; but now there is nothing
but confusion. There are men invalided going home now who never
joined their respective regiments out in India; young soldiers, who
came out from England in 1861, got sick of the country, and are now
going home without seeing the colours of their corps. These men
are served out with soap, tobacco, flannels, &c., by Government or
some other fund, I know not from which, neither do I care; but the
time-expired soldier, who has served his Queen and his country in
a noble cause, and who suffered the fatigues and hardships of the
Crimean war, and a rebellion remarkable in history, and helped to
save the Indian empire, when their term of service expires, after an
honourable apprenticeship and a broken down constitution, do they
get any of the little articles that I have mentioned? The answer
is, _No_. Just think for one moment, and make a comparison. The men
who joined the service in 1861 came out to India and go home now
without ever seeing the colours of their regiments unfurled; and
the men who joined the army in 1851, who served their country with
honour, went through the struggles of the Crimean war, and also who
saved the Indian empire, retire from the service with a broken down
constitution; yet, there are neither flannels, soap, nor tobacco for
those brave and hardy fellows! This is true: I witnessed the articles
served out yesterday to those who were never in action. I leave it
now to my readers; and I would ask the question, If the time-expired
soldiers are not entitled at least to an equal share? Observed a
number of fish very like the grampus swarming about the vessel.
Beautiful sky, and a steady breeze. What a blessing to be in good
health; there is not a case of sickness on board, with the exception
of some old standing cases. Some of my readers will be very apt to
say, Why did I speak of time-expired soldiers and invalids in this
small work? The answer is a very simple one:--everything that I have
mentioned above came under my own observation while on board ship,
and what I have stated is true. I am myself a time-expired soldier,
and have seen active and good service. Nearly the whole of my service
has been in a foreign climate, and very often in front of the enemy;
and what I have already said in regard to the injustice done to the
time-expired soldier is perfectly true, and I doubt not but that some
will feel for the brave fellows who often stood the brunt of battle
and the severe winter in the Crimea. There are still a few of my
countrymen who will sympathize with those brave and hardy fellows who
stood the brunt of many a struggle, and say with me, that they were
entitled to an equal share of the little comforts of life on their
way home.
17th: Still going along, sailing slow, at the rate of four knots per
hour; things go on a little better; more regularity. Towards evening
the rain pours down in torrents; very uncomfortable weather to us at
sea; all the appearance of a storm.
19th: The sky very clear; made acquaintance with a young man, and
entered into conversation with him; talked a great deal of home and
of India. I asked him his opinion on the subject of the time-expired
men. He appeared to be highly pleased with my remarks. He gave me
one instance, and I will here lay it before my readers. He said, “I
fell in with a young soldier one day at Kurrachee; he belonged to the
51st Regiment. I asked him if he was long out in India, and if he had
joined his regiment. The answer he gave me was, ‘No; I never saw my
regiment, nor I don’t intend to join it!’ I then said, why not? You
should make yourself acquainted with the men of your regiment, see
its colours, find out the number of engagements it has taken a part
in, and so on; you will never be able, said I, to tell when you go
home all the honours your regiment wears on its colours. ‘Ah!’ said
he, ‘I came out here about six months ago, and the doctor tells me
he will send me to Bombay for my health; then when I do get there, I
will be invalided home, and be served out with flannels, soap, and
tobacco. A fig for my regiment; I never wish to join it.’” Here is an
example of a soldier; still, he is thought more of than the hardy,
brave fellows who went through the mutiny, and were for years exposed
to a burning sun. Some will say, “Poor fellow, he must be delicate,
or something very serious the matter with him:” but I can assure my
readers, he is like a number more in Her Majesty’s service--sick
only of the service--yet he is thought more of than the time-expired
soldier. If the service had 10,000 of this kind of stuff, what would
become of the British army? The shades of evening again closed around
us, and our noble barque rides along, in the prospect of making a
quick passage home.
20th: A great deal of rain fell during the night; got up very early
this morning. How uncomfortable it is to be on board ship in rainy
weather; the spirits get very low. We have got another lot of
passengers on board, which I have not mentioned before: I will here
describe them, so that my readers may form an idea of our cargo.
Among the feathered tribe are parrots of every variety, and they are
a complete pest; and I would advise those who are still in India,
and on the eve of coming home, to bring nothing cumbrous along with
them--four months at sea is tedious and trying enough. We have also
a lot of monkeys full of trick; Jacko is a rare animal. We have
likewise swine in abundance, with geese, ducks, &c. Here, then, is a
stock of the animal creation, 340 men, 20 women, and 30 children. I
would compare the interior of our vessel to nothing else but a Babel
of confused languages.
21st: Clouds appear in the distance, and the motion of the water
tells of a coming storm; the crew are all prepared to shorten sail,
but the storm passes over to leeward, and leaves our good ship to
go unmolested on her journey. When I call to memory time gone by,
how short it appears, now that I am going to my native land, after
an absence of twelve years. I have spent the last few years out in
India, exposed to a burning sun, and gone through the hardships of
two campaigns. Fatigue, hunger, and thirst I have felt in their most
awful forms, and still I am spared by the hand of an Almighty Power.
Disease and sickness I have seen carrying away many a brave comrade
to an untimely grave, yet I escaped untouched; and now, as I glide
along, I cannot but think on the past, and of companions so dear to
me, who stood victorious on many a hard-contested field. Alas! they
are now no more--they lie in a far distant land.
23d: The weather fine and serene, the sun shining in all its
splendour. We have had some singing and dancing this evening; the
dancing consisted of reels and country dances; all in good health.
24th: The wind still favourable; the time glides away with ease.
Something new this morning, exercise for the men; very comical on
board ship; marching past to the tune of “Over the water to Charlie”;
2° north; getting very near the Equator, and nearly a calm. I
trust that the wind will rise during the night, still, we must not
complain. Oh for a glance of bonny Scotland, where all the beauty of
nature is resplendent in its glory! One may travel a thousand miles
in India and see nothing to carry the mind back to former days.
God-speed our ship, and send us home
In safety to our place of rest,
Where, free from cares and hardships gone,
We live with those whom we love best.
25th: No progress in this day’s sailing; a dead calm; very low in
spirits, still, Providence is kind; there is nothing but trials
before us, so we must make the best of every-day life.
26th: Several showers this day; still making no progress; a bad place
to be becalmed in. When I left Kurrachee I made up my mind that I
would arrive in England in about one hundred days; but we do not know
the future; it is as well; with a little patience many difficulties
may be overcome. I retired to rest, trusting in Divine Providence
that he would steer our bark in safety over the mighty deep, and that
in his own good time we would all land in safety on the shores of old
England--
A land of liberty and fame--
Few other lands can boast the same.
27th: Still remain about the same place; not a ruffle in the water;
two large sharks hover about the vessel, but they are cunning enough,
and refuse the bait; they appear to have been cheated before.
28th: The wind freshens, and the vessel once more moves onward; how
cheerful every one seems to be--all new life after a calm of a few
days. I trust that this light breeze will continue, and carry us
across the line, and then we will have every chance of catching the
trade winds. Four months at sea would seem very long to some people;
but it is the soldier’s fortune, or misfortune, to go wherever his
country may call him. I can now say with pleasure that I have spent
many happy days in the army, although at times I have been sad
when I call back to memory the past twelve years of my life. What
strange scenes I have seen: I think I could write a little history of
remarkable incidents, from the commencement of the Crimean war up to
the suppression of the Indian mutiny. Everything that occurred during
these eventful periods is still fresh in my memory. Oh that I had
made a better use of my younger days when at school; but I slighted
the golden opportunity, and now I see my folly, and deeply regret
that I so much neglected the earliest and happiest days of my life.
29th: A good deal of thunder; what a powerful effect it has on the
water; the very bottom of the deep seems to be disturbed. By two P.M.
a fine breeze springs up, and we glide along.
30th: The weather getting cooler; as we go south, we find this time
of year winter in this part of our globe. Another death took place
this afternoon; it was that of a young child about two years of age.
I happened to be very near it during the last moments of its life.
The parents were present at the last struggle. The funeral service
having been read, the body was committed to the deep--there to await
that great day when the sea shall give up its dead. A few sheep died
from the excessive heat; and I am of opinion that the bad usage they
get bring on disease; in fact, I think they should dispense with
sheep, poultry, &c., as I am confident that it would make a great
improvement, or else give them quarters in or about the vicinity
where dwells the parties who feed upon them, then we would have
more room and fair play. I do assure you it is no easy matter to be
crammed together as we are on such a long passage.
31st: A smooth sea, and no wind; how long it may last is a mystery
to all of us; but I trust that the rapid current of time will bring
a wind that will swell our sails and carry our good ship across the
fathomless deep; to-day there is a calm; to-morrow there may be a
storm; the present is only ours; there is a veil cast over the future
that no mortal eye can penetrate. This makes the 25th day at sea.
April 1st: The first of April brings no wind with it; observe a great
number of sea birds, very dark in the colour; we cannot be far from
land; a sail in sight; cannot make her out; she is far to the port
side of our ship.
3d: Got up early this morning, and was glad to see the vessel going
along at the rate of six knots; getting a theatre erected on board;
what a novel sight it will make; a few parrots died within the
last few days; I am not sorry at this, as they make a confounded
noise. I will bring to notice an affair that took place on board;
indeed, I feel sorry to mention an occurrence of the kind, but as I
intended, from the commencement, to bring to light several things
that are looked over, I will here give one instance. I entered
into conversation with a soldier of my own regiment. I saw by his
appearance that he was not well. I asked him how he felt. He said
that the pains were most excruciating, and that he was scarcely able
to walk. I advised him to call on the doctor, and perhaps he would do
something for him. So I parted with him for that night.
4th: Fell into conversation with my friend the sick man. He told me
he had been at the doctor, but the medical officer in charge of
the sick took no interest in his case. He told him to exercise his
limbs on the deck--very good medicine indeed for an old soldier who
has served twenty years. He is in possession of three war-medals,
and a good conduct one; age and active service have pulled him down,
yet this is the treatment he gets from the medical officer. Our
Government provides an hospital on board ship for the soldier, issues
out medicine, &c., for the sick, appoints a surgeon to take charge
of them, yet they are not looked after. What treatment for a British
soldier! The medical officer in charge is not fit for his duty, and
cannot superintend the management of an hospital on board. But enough
of this: it is not only in this poor fellow’s case, but in many
more of the same nature. I know that the medical department gives
all manner of justice to the sick--at least one would suppose so,
if he only saw the returns that go to the Horse-Guards showing the
expenditure for the year.
6th: A great swell in the sea; made a very good run during the last
twenty-four hours--188 knots; the wind is dying away again; we are
now about one month at sea; how short it seems; during that time we
have run 3000 miles.
7th: Some confusion this day; the rations served out are bad; no
person seems to take any interest; there is a quarter-master sergeant
appointed to see that everything goes on right, but if he gets his
own share he does not give one straw for any one else.
8th: Raining very heavy; observe a water-spout; what a strange
phenomena; how the water rises out of the sea and ascends upwards;
a strong north-east breeze drives our good ship at the rate of eight
knots; all seem so cheerful and gay; 13 south; if we continue to sail
as we have done the last day or two, we will double the Cape by the
end of April. I would advise all who intend to make a passage out to
India to be careful to protect the person from cold. The whole of the
crew, women and children, are in good health. I mentioned in some
part of this narrative something about insane men; I said that they
were very comical. There was one who tried to obtain his discharge by
feigning madness. He succeeded so far as to be invalided home from
India. He was one of the party who got a share of the warm clothing
gratis. How the authorities are gulled and Government robbed. The
weather very mild; several showers of rain; in latitude 27° 33′ south.
15th: The wind strong, and in our favour. What a joyful sound to hear
all hands make sail; studding sails and top-gallant sails are set,
and our noble vessel runs at the rate of ten knots an hour.
17th: There is nothing of any importance that has taken place during
the past few days. The theatre is in progress; the amateurs are
busy painting scenery, and I believe they are to appear on Monday,
bringing on the stage the fifth act of _Macbeth_. The pieces to be
played are to be selections taken from Shakspeare.
19th: Sighted two vessels; spoke one; she belonged to Hamburg;
her cargo was tea, from China, homeward bound; the other was the
_Eugene_, of Liverpool, with cotton; overtook both these vessels, and
soon left them far behind, in latitude 32° 17′ south.
20th: The weather cloudy, and very like rain; the breeze very strong,
and bearing round ahead. We got our theatre started at last. The
piece came off very well, considering the hands. What a novel sight
at sea. I was asked to write a prologue: it was as follows:--
Ladies and gentlemen, you are aware
Our wardrobe’s scarce, and almost bare;
But we are anxious to display,
To wile the time and keep you gay.
We ask your patience for this night,
And we shall play the tragic fight,
Where tyranny in all its breath
We’ll bring to justice false Macbeth.
Then bear us witness how we do,
And every folly you subdue;--
Hark! footsteps! Now then for the play:
Behold Macbeth! He comes this way.
The _Macbeth_ was very good, and also the _Macduff_; the farce “The
Dead Shot,” was very laughable, and came off with great applause. A
couple of songs were sung by Messrs Gowan and Smith; the whole very
successful.
23d: The wind changed during the night more in our favour; we cannot
depend on the weather. There were a few articles of clothing served
out yesterday to the time-expired soldiers, consisting of two smock
frocks, and one pair of socks. As we are getting well on our passage,
they appear to take a little more interest in the time-expired
soldier; but the articles they gave us yesterday are of no use to
us. Why not give us flannel shirts and drawers, as they have given
to the invalided soldier. I have not the least hesitation in saying
that Government is of the opinion that we get an equal share on
leaving India. When I call back to memory the time of the Crimean
war, when we were naked and starved for want of clothing and food,
our beloved Queen was kind and sympathizing, our country generous and
liberal; and where lay the fault? how was the soldier not fed as he
ought to be? still he went on from day to day, with scarcely as much
clothing on his back as would cover his nakedness, and that without
a murmur;--I say, where lay the fault? Those who were appointed by
Government to carry out that work failed in their office; they were
at home indulging in the luxuries of a dining-room, while the poor
soldier was eating raw pork and hard biscuit, exposed to the severe
blasts of winter, without house and without fuel; and these gentlemen
could sit at home and keep those useful things about them, which, had
they come to the Crimea, would have saved many a gallant fellow from
going to an untimely grave. Let shame and confusion cover the faces
of those who were the cause of so much misery, suffering, and death.
24th: The weather very boisterous, and a strong head-wind; being so
near the Cape, we cannot look for calm weather.
25th: Land in sight; descried it about noon; how all on board
welcomed the joyous sight; I cannot give the name of it, but it is on
the coast of Africa.
May 1st: A strong gale brought in the first of May, and the wind
ahead; the vessel is stripped of all her canvas; very stormy weather,
and like a storm; how nobly our vessel rides and faces the angry
billows; she is a good craft, but her sails are torn to ribbons.
2d: The wind fallen, but the sea is still running very high, the
vessel rolling very much; very cold; feeling the change of climate
very much; I trust a good breeze may spring up, and carry us round
the Cape.
3d: Another Sabbath-day on board, making the ninth; Divine service as
usual; a hurricane came on about ten o’clock A.M., still, our noble
vessel rides amid the storm; the weather very cold.
9th: Suffering very much from the effects of a cold; very feverish;
no use going to ask medical advice; very likely I would receive
the same treatment as the old soldier already spoken about. What
a blessing it is to be in good health; we do not value that great
blessing as we ought. It is when we are laid upon a bed of sickness,
and no tender hand to smooth our lonely pillow, tossed about on the
fathomless deep, we often exclaim, Restore me to my wonted health and
strength, and I will give Thee praise, O our God. Another sail in
sight a good way ahead; appears to be homeward bound. Another death
took place to-day--that of a private of the 7th Regiment of Foot;
he had been suffering some time from dysentery. Poor fellow! he was
greatly worn out, and the pain that he suffered a short time previous
to his death was almost beyond endurance. The funeral service having
been read, his body was committed to the deep.
10th: A sail in sight; passed by our weather bow, outward bound;
working to-day amongst the married people’s baggage. I never thought
for one moment that married people were allowed so many boxes. I
hear some of the women say, “O, Mrs So and So, I have seen only four
of my trunks; I wonder where can the other four be?” and so on. Here,
then, is a lot of lumber choking up the vessel. The women should just
have their knapsack like the soldier, then we would have plenty of
room; but when people are allowed to take home whatever they fancy,
there will never be but confusion on board.
11th: Another death took place this afternoon, a boy of the name of
Geddes, about nine years of age. Poor little fellow! I felt very much
for him; he was an object--a cripple from his youth. The month of
April slides gently away; the time goes fleeting by, and we cannot
tell who amongst us may be the next to throw off this mortal coil.
There is one of our number who has been suffering for the last few
years from dysentery; his case is deplorable; if he survives the
passage it will be little short of a miracle.
June 1st: We have now altered the ship’s course, steering N.N.W.; a
good breeze springs up in our favour, and we all seem animated with
new vigour in the prospect of soon getting home. For the last two or
three days we have had very boisterous weather; but what a difference
now--the sky so clear and serene the air so pure, and the sun shining
resplendent in its glory. Sighted several vessels, apparently very
much the worse from the effects of the late storm.
6th: The vessel rolling very much; great swell in the sea; thunder
and lightning; very like a storm; all ordered below; the wind
whistling through the rigging; we hear nothing but the sound of the
angry billows.
9th: I will bring to notice an affair which took place while on
board. The troops are generally divided into three watches. The watch
on duty remain so for twelve hours at a time--that is, they come on
duty at eight o’clock A.M. and remain till eight P.M.; this gives
the remainder more room; so this duty goes on regularly, beginning
with the first and ending with the third. It happened one very wet
and stormy night that the soldiers composing the third watch found
shelter from the cold stormy blast in front of the cabin door; they
were sheltered here so far from the rain. One Capt. H---- came out
of his comfortable cabin, and ordered the men away from that part of
the vessel. He appeared to be annoyed by their presence, or, perhaps,
thinking that they were too comfortable, he told them to get up and
pace the deck, and at the same time he said not to go below, the rain
pouring in torrents. This was treatment from a British officer, who
seemed void of all the feelings of humanity. What harm could the poor
fellows have done that Capt. H---- would thus order them away? This
was not the action of a soldier. It was very evident he never saw
active service, or knew anything about the trenches. Far be it from
me to run down the character of an officer, but this act of Capt.
H----’s was nothing but tyranny and oppression. In the field and in
front of the enemy, where is the man who can surpass the British
soldier? His bravery none can doubt; obedient to his officers,
notwithstanding the hardships he does endure, he will uphold the
honour of his country even to the cannon’s mouth, and in the hour of
danger he is foremost in the fight; and now, on board ship, on his
passage home, he is scorned, and looked upon as a piece of lumber
knocking about the deck; this noble fighting machine is ordered
away from his snug corner by one who does not know the value of the
soldier. If on the cold heights, where the echo of a thousand cannon
resounded in our ears, or at the relief of Lucknow, where we fought
hand to hand against the cruel sepoy, we cheerfully obeyed the voice
of our officers, surely, when returning home, we were entitled to
some sympathy; but none did we receive.
10th: Another Sabbath-day on the wide ocean, this makes the tenth;
Divine service as usual; the vessel making good progress, and the
weather very mild.
11th: Still proceeding steadily on our course; very mild weather;
distance from St Helena 467 miles, and 66 days out; we consider the
passage now as half made--a long time to be on sea.
13th: The breeze still very light, yet we intend making St Helena in
a few days. Our amateurs again appeared in the very popular Drama of
“Black-Eyed Susan; or, All in the Downs.”
15th: Arrived at St Helena to-day, and cast anchor at noon; it
looks a very barren island; not the least appearance of vegetation.
It is famous as being the residence and burial place of Napoleon.
The once renowned Bonaparte must have thought his prison place but
indifferent--him who so often struck so much terror over the whole
of Europe. His ambition was, however, crushed; and I cannot but now
look on the place where the conqueror of nations at last found his
resting-place.
16th: Having taken in a supply of water, we weighed anchor in the
afternoon, and with a light breeze in our favour, we soon lost sight
of the little island.
18th: The wind fell a great deal, very near a calm; hooked a number
of dolphins; very good eating.
22d: Still going on our course steadily; the whole of the troops,
women and children, are well. I will mention a case that came under
my observation while I lay at St Helena. There were in the harbour at
that time a number of vessels with troops on board, homeward bound.
A sergeant of the 92d came alongside our vessel in a small boat,
enquiring after a friend. In the boat along with him was another
soldier, his comrade, who lay fast asleep. Not wishing to disturb
him, as he had no particular friend to come and see on board, the
sergeant left him alone. While in the act of coming on board, the
sergeant was arrested. I could not conceive what was up. I heard the
sergeant-major call out, “Seize him! make a prisoner of him!” The
poor fellow looked as if he had fallen into the hands of pirates,
and very naturally asked, “Where am I? and what have I done? Is this
the manner I am to be treated when I come to see a friend? If I have
done anything wrong, tell me, and send me back to my officer.” The
poor fellow was nearly out of his wits. Who was to blame for this? It
was our sergeant-major, whose only motive for such a step was a wish
to be revenged for some former quarrel, and he took this mean way
of attaining his end. But in this he was foiled; for our commanding
officer ordered the sergeant to be at once sent back to his own
vessel.
27th: Raining heavy; excessively hot. O for the banks and braes of
bonny Scotland!
30th: A great deal of thunder and lightning; what an awful effect it
has upon the mighty deep.
31st: Got into the north-east trade winds; another death took place
this afternoon; it was one of my own regiment, an Aberdeenshire man;
he was suffering from dysentery; his case was deplorable; I felt very
much for him, getting so near home, and in the prospect of recruiting
his health in his native land, but his strength gave way, and the
King of Terrors laid hold of him. The funeral service having been
read, his body was committed to the deep.--I will now pass over a few
days, and leave our good vessel to run along, and again I will appear
with my reader.--Looking eagerly out for land; every eye is strained
to catch a view of it; went to hammock, in the hope of sighting land
the following morning.
25th: Up at the peep of day, and descried land’s end. What a joyful
sight to every one on board. Happy land! how we embrace you.
Our passage now draws to a close,
And Devonshire appears in view;
And now I’ll seek that sweet repose,
And rest my weary limbs that stood me true.
How sad’s the change since last we met,
Methinks I hear their voices say;
Your skin appears as black as jet,
But still your hearts are bright as day.
We sympathise with all your woes;
We’ve watched and prayed for your return;
In battle you have beat your foes--
Oh welcome from your far sojourn!
At length, on the 27th of June, we arrived at Portsmouth, after a
favourable passage of one hundred and eighteen days; took rail from
Portsmouth to London, from thence took steamer to Stirling, where the
depot of the regiment lay. Arrived at Stirling Castle on the 3d of
July; and after the arrival of my documents and papers, I was finally
discharged, and set adrift in the wide, wide world. After serving my
Queen and country with honour and distinction, I retire from the army
with nought but a name!
[Illustration: (decorative separator)]
POETRY.
ON LEAVING INDIA.
Farewell to the land where in sorrow I’ve wandered!
No more in your jungles will I seek to roam;
My health and my wealth I have recklessly squandered.
Amid scenes of strife, never thinking of home.
But now I embark on the deep stormy billows,
In hope of arriving in safety once more,
Where oft I have seen the green weeping willow
Sprout forth by yon stream at my father’s door.
ARRIVAL IN SCOTLAND.
How sad now the change at my father’s dwelling,
For Death has transported my kindred away:
I trust to the land where’s no weeping nor wailing;
Where all is sublime and clearer than day.
And now I’ll retire from the world and its sorrows,
And seek some quiet spot to lay down my head,
And banish away the thoughts of the morrow,
For my friends and relations--they lie with the dead.
ON PAST SCENES.
How oft have I thought, when toss’d on the billows,
Of the land of my birth, and my friends all so dear,
And oft, when alone, the crowding reflections
Have brought to my eye the large blinding tear.
How oft now I think on the days of my childhood,
When the frowns of this world never darkened my brow--
Of days when I roamed mid the oak and the beechwood,
Beside that clear stream, where in splendour they grow.
Since then I have braved many storms and great danger,
’Mid the roaring of cannon, in front of the foe;
In the centre of carnage I’ve escaped the avenger--
Now my time is expired, to Scotland I’ll go.
Farewell! my companions and comrades in toil,
May that spirit of bravery for ever remain,
And carry you over that far distant soil
To your Queen and your country again.
ON A COMRADE.
Adieu! my friend--a long farewell,
Till brighter days will shine on me;
The past, the present, I’ll reveal,
And open all my heart to thee.
When far away from India’s shore,
How oft I’ll think on friends so dear,
And call to memory times of yore,
Our happy days and homely cheer.
If poverty should be my lot,
And leave me helpless, homeless too,
I’ll face the storm with what I’ve got,
Where oft I’ve wandered in the dew.
If fortune should upon me smile,
And cheer me through this world of pain,
How willingly I’ll go and toil,
And never leave sweet home again.
When I arrive in Scotia’s soil,
Your father and your mother dear
Shall hear from me, and with a smile,
Will banish all their doubts and fear.
Farewell! companion of my toil,
May health, may wealth with you remain,
And bear you through that Indian soil,
Until the day we meet again.
ON THE APPROACH OF A STORM ON MY PASSAGE HOME.
Our gallant ship she glides along,
And leaves the land far on our lee;
We listen to the sailor’s song,
While toss’d upon the roaring sea.
How dismal is the night, and dark!
No star is seen above on high;
The storm comes frowning on our bark,
And thunders crash along the sky.
How nobly does our vessel ride,
Triumphant o’er the stormy waves;
And all on board with faith confide
On Him alone whose near to save.
The storm abates, all hands make sail,
The sun appears in all its might;
The sea is smooth, gone is the gale
That sprung up on that dreary night.
Our course lies for the British isles--
That land of liberty and fame,
Where wives and sweethearts with their smiles
Of kindness sooth away our pain.
The dangers you have underwent,
Methinks I hear their voices say;
How many nights we’ve sleepless spent,
Our thoughts on you when far away.
Come to my arms! embrace once more
The one who’s kept her heart so true;
My love for you I’ve kept in store,
And now the pledge once more renew.
Ah! what is this? Is it a scar
I see upon your manly brow--
A stain of blood brought from afar;
But all is past--forget it now.
THE HUSSAR.
How well I remember the morning
I left home to travel afar,
How eager my heart was a-burning
To become a young gallant Hussar.
I accomplished the task, and enlisted
In a regiment all ready for war,
With a spirit that ever resisted,
I became a young Seventh Hussar.
At the sound of the trumpet I mounted
On my grey steed as bright as a star,
And the dark roaring billows surmounted,
As a brave gallant British Hussar.
Our watchword is, “Charge, not Surrender!”
It is spoke by our chief from afar;
We our country from tyrants defend her--
The brave gallant British Hussar.
In battle our squadrons defended
Our Queen in the late Indian war,
The rebels’ career we suspended--
The brave gallant British Hussar.
My sword I’ll return to the scabbard--
I’ll return to my home from the wars--
My life I’ll no more put in hazard--
Farewell! then, my gallant Hussar.
TO A FEW FRIENDS.
Farewell! my brave comrades, companions so true,
May right, safety, and honour accompany you,
When far from the land where we often did stray
I’ll remember your kindness, when far, far away.
I’ll bring to my memory the days that are gone,
When we wandered together in search of a home,
When the sound of the cannon brought our thoughts from afar,
And we fought side by side in a long bloody war.
How often with pride will I think on you all,
For in danger we fought, made the enemy fall,
With courage so daring, we our bayonets could wield,
For the Cameron Highlanders never could yield.
Accept, then, my comrades, so faithful and true,
The affection and friendship of one who loves you;
I will ever remember your valour and fame--
Farewell! gallant comrades, we’ll soon meet again.
ON A FEW OF THE TIME-EXPIRED SOLDIERS
AFTER ARRIVING FROM INDIA.
Transported with joy in the hopes of once more
Arriving in safety on old Scotland’s shore,
Where that band of ten-years-men, so loyal and true,
Shall welcome the heather, the thistle, and yew.
Now, before we do part, and without any boast,
Let us hand round the wine-cup and drink to this toast:
“Long life to the Camerons, a regiment so true--
No stain on their tartan, nor their bonnets o’ blue!”
As we sit round this table, let us now drink once more
“To the sons of Lochiel on a far distant shore!”
We have long wore the tartan with honour and pride--
Farewell! gallant comrades--may good you betide.
And now, my brave comrades--companions so dear--
We have fought side by side with a loud British cheer!
After serving our country with honour and fame,
We retire from the service with nought but a name!
Once more fill the wine-cup before we do part--
Let us pledge one another with a soldier’s true heart;
Mayhap in this world we shall meet no more--
Let our hearts be united as they’ve oft been of yore.
Farewell! then, farewell! the time’s drawing nigh,
Tie the chord of true friendship that none can untie,
Till that day when we meet where we never part more,
In that land where our kindred has gone long before.
WHEN THE AUTHOR LEFT HIS NATIVE LAND.
Farewell to the land of the thistle,
No more on your mountains I’ll roam;
Nor again will I blow on my whistle
When in youth I lived happy at home.
The advice of my friends I resisted
I was bent a soldier to be;
At the age of eighteen I enlisted,
Intending a warrior to be.
When the sound of the cannon did rattle,
And the cry of Lochiel reached my ear,
I was eager to be in the battle,
With a courage that never knew fear.
At the Alma the slogan was sounded,
With the sun shining bright on our steel;
The Russians in hundreds lay wounded
By the sons of the gallant Lochiel.
I have faced many scenes of great danger,
(For honour at heart I did feel),
To the foe I ne’er would surrender
One drop of the blood of Lochiel.
I hope, then, my country will cherish
That band who always fought well;
Ten-years-men with honour did flourish
In the path of the gallant Lochiel.
THE INJUSTICE DONE TO THE TIME-EXPIRED SOLDIER.
When I look to my country, I cannot but say
That the time-expired soldier does not get fair play;
His exemplary conduct he proved in the field--
He was put to the test, but he never would yield.
After serving his country eleven long years,
He’s forgot, he’s neglected, and look’d on with sneers;
Awake, then, my country, and give us fair play--
Give us share of the comforts before we’re away.
Compare, then, the soldier who serves only one year,
Getting flannels, tobacco, and soap it is clear;
And the hardy ten-years-men, far, far from their home,
With what valour they fought, and behold they get none.
Dishonour to those who are placed in command--
They are blind with deceit, and they don’t understand;
Dispel them, I say, for I think its high time--
To the army and mankind committed a crime.
Where, then, are the men who have got any sense?
Stand by the ten-years-men, and bring their defence
To a court of inquiry, and then we’ll see there
How the time-expired soldier does not get a share.
I hope these few lines will be everywhere seen,
And that some men of sense will explain to the Queen
How her time-expired soldiers are left in despair--
Are done out--what their country has left to their share.
WRITTEN FOR AN OLD COMRADE OF THE 93D HIGHLANDERS.
My name is M‘Gillivray, of an old ancient clan,
For my Queen and my country I’ve fought in the van--
In Turkey, the Crimea, and India far-famed,
And now on my breast wear the honours I gained.
In the Sutherland Highlanders, a regiment so brave,
I first joined the ranks my country to save;
In the Crimea their daring was proved in the field,
For a Sutherland Highlander never could yield.
At the charge of Balaclava we opened our line--
Not a move, not a breath--all was silent as time,
Till one word from our chief[A] gave the signal to fire,
Then the enemy reel, and quickly retire.
Again, at Sebastopol, a place far-famed,
We struggled for freedom, and honour obtained;
With courage and daring, unsurpassed in the field,
We conquer or die, but we never can yield.
The war being over, I’ll return to the spot
Where in youth I did wander, but ne’er have forgot;
But the voice of my country arose from afar,
And calls me again to the Indian war.
Our countrymen know with what valour we fought
’Midst the fire of the rebels, and in safety we brought
Out from Lucknow our women and children so dear,
All saved from the hands of the cruel mutineer.
I now feel disabled, and return to the land
Where in infancy oft I was led by the hand;
With a hurt constitution, and spirits depressed,
I will seek some quiet spot, and lie down to rest.
The sound of the pibroch I will answer no more--
No more will I wander amid scenes of gore;
My sword I now shall to the scabbard return,
And ponder o’er scenes where I oft did sojourn.
ON THE RETURN OF SPRING.
See the tender grass up-springing
Where the snow and ice have been;
List! the pretty birds are singing
’Mongst the sprouting leaves so green.
Welcome to Glenferness Village,
Spring and Summer; now once more
With care the farmer tries the tillage;
The soldier rests from scenes of gore.
See the bees how they are swarming
Round the fragrant tall palm-tree;
The village children, neat and charming,
Sporting in their circled glee.
The woodman’s axe is loudly sounding
On the trunk of some fir tree.
While the roe is swiftly bounding
In the forest--he is free.
The birds are now in numbers singing,
Sending forth their songs of praise;
The church bells of Ardclach are ringing
On the solemn Sabbath-days.
What a change is joy and gladness
From the carnage I have seen!
Oh! my heart hath felt great sadness
In distant lands where I have been.
All is still around my dwelling,
In this lone secluded spot;
My bosom sighs, my heart is swelling--
Once so gay--forget-me-not.
Haste thee! haste thee! glorious Summer!
From thy stay in other climes;--
Yes! I welcome your forerunner--
Spring, O Spring! bring happier times!
ON A FRIEND RETIRED FROM THE BUSY SCENES OF LIFE.
Silence reigns within my dwelling:
No intrusion--quite alone;
Still, at times my heart is swelling
When I think on days by-gone.
When my daily toil is ended
I retire to this lone spot;
Still, I’m cheerful and contented
With the comforts I have got.
Ye who lie midst scenes of pleasure,
Would you venture to this spot?
I would part some of my treasure
With a friend to share my lot.
What is rank but a delusion;
What is wealth but a great sore;
The gay encounter much confusion;
The rich can boast of nothing more.
Time is fleeting, t’will not tarry,
I may change, but time will not;
Since I cannot think to marry,
I’m content with what I’ve got.
With my faithful dog I’m cheery,
Banished from the giddy show;
Tho’ my dwelling is but dreary,
Yet brightness will upon me glow.
A DAY-DREAM.
In wandering alone by the banks of the Findhorn,
I sat myself down by an aged oak tree;
And in watching the course of the pure crystal streamlet,
A voice in my ear whispered, “Fear not for me.”
I turned myself round to see the fair stranger,
And catch a faint glimpse as the sound reached my ear,
When the form of a female, so handsome and lovely,
Sat gazing upon me--in her eye was a tear.
I approached to her side, and I said, “Oh! fair maiden,
Come speak one kind word to this lone drooping heart;
I come from afar, and I’m here but a stranger--
Oh speak but one word, now, before we do part!”
She whispered, “I’ve heard of your sufferings and danger:
Will you come, now, with me, and share some of mine?
If so, all my wealth will be at your disposal--
Come, leave this lone spot for a more genial clime.”
“Yes, charming fair creature! with you I will wander--
I’m homeless and friendless--just as you now see;
Yet, once I was courted by friends who now slight me--
They care not for me: I will go with thee.
Arise, then, my fair one--come, let us not tarry,
This path you will follow, while I lead the way.”
While speaking, a scream from my fair one aroused me--
’Twas she--but a vision--a dream of the day!
TO A STREAM.
Gentle streamlet, onward flowing,
Running smooth without a rill,
Carrying waters for industry
To this lone secluded mill.[B]
By your mild and gentle pressure
On the wooden wheel you fa’,
Which by its rapid revolution
Sendeth round the circular saw.
Tall majestic trees are carried
To this lone sequestered spot,
Which by the art of the saw-miller
Are formed to build the rustic cot.
Waft thee! waft thee! little streamlet,
From thy rise in distant hills,
Running on without obstruction,
Onward to the water mills.
Come, then, woodmen, throw your timber,
While the summer months are near,
While this gurgling little streamlet
Unmolested runs so clear:
Ere the month of cold November
Comes with storms of sleet and snow,
When the frost will stay the waters,
Round the large wheel cannot go.
Long I gaze and watch your progress,
Running onward by the mill,
While the circular saws are sleeping,
Since the large wheel’s standing still.
Come, then, ye who have got money,
Buy your timber from the glen,
While this little stream’s o’erflowing
With water for the working men.
IMAGINARY POEM.
It was in the month of sweet July,
Upon a Saturday,
As I was rambling through the woods,
A fair-hair’d girl did say:--
“You’re welcome to this lovely spot--
I see you’re from afar--
You’ve fought and bled for Scotland’s sake
In the late Crimean war.”
I said, “O yes, my lovely girl!
In distant lands I’ve been,
And deeds of daring and renown
I’ve often done and seen.
Upon the Alma’s rugged heights
The conflict was severe;
And now I mourn for those who fell,
Who never knew no fear.”
“Come sit ye down, my bonny lad,
And hear what I’ve to say,
This heart of mine I will bestow
On you this very day.
A tocher of five hundred pounds
My father left to me;
And now I’ll share this sum with you
If you will marry me.”
“O generous, kind, and lovely girl!
I see you pity me;
You have my heart, you know my mind,
Then let us married be;
And let us go to some quiet spot,
Where, free from grief and pain,
We’ll live for one another,
O ne’er to part again.”
My wild career is ended,
My rifle lies asleep,
My doting wife is all to me;
How often does she weep
For all my sufferings long gone by,
But now they’ll come no more;
My grief and pain are left behind
On yon far distant shore.
Now sitting by the cheerful hearth
I tell her tales of yore,
How her gallant Highland laddie fought
’Midst strife and scenes of gore;
And with her hands around my neck,
Her smiles so bright and clear,
She soothes away my former pain,
My former doubts and fear.
LINES ON THE DEATH OF A BRAVE OFFICER WHO FELL IN BATTLE.
Rest to thy ashes kindest friend,
No more on earth I’ll gaze upon your smile;
Let angels of redeeming love attend
Your flight to realms beyond this stormy isle.
Had I been near thy side when death was nigh
(As oft in days gone by we met the foe),
I would thy death avenged or cheerful die;
But yet I live to hear this tale of woe.
Your well-known voice I’ve heard in battle
Leading on, with a devoted hand,
Quite undismayed, midst cannons rattle,
The soldiers of your native land.
But, overpowered by numerous foes,
You fought as British soldiers fight--
Your single arm laid numbers low,
While in your native garb you shone so bright.
MEDITATIONS ON THE PROSPECTS OF BETTER DAYS.
Rest, soldier, rest, for your rifle lies sleeping,
The war-note is silent, you’ll obey it no more;
How sad is the change! I see you are weeping;
Cheer up! there is something for you yet in store.
Alas! I’m forsaken, I wander in sorrow,
The once gallant soldier is left in despair;
The friends of my youth they say “Come to-morrow;
We’ll try and relieve you; what can we do mair?”
The clouds that surround you, tho’ dismal and dreary,
Shall vanish away, when in splendour you’ll shine;
Your past life, that often was toilsome and weary,
Is carried away by the current of time;--
Yes, Time, thou art fleeting; in rapid succession
Each day brings us nearer the verge of the grave;
We all must depart, leave our homes and profession,
And launch this frail bark on the deep stormy wave.
Yet hope cheers me on, and is balm to my sorrow,
The bright side of Nature will yet on me shine;
The past I’ll forget, and I’ll wait on to-morrow--
The die that is cast will come round with time.
Farewell for awhile! till the dawn of that morning
Shines on the front of my lone cottage door,
I then will arise and go forth in the dawning,
My hardships all past, to come back no more.
THE PROSPECTS OF BETTER HEALTH.
Not all the lands beyond the sea,
Where oft I strayed and mused alone,
Can heal the wounds which trouble me,
As this, my native Highland home.
The cedar tree I’ve often seen,
And sat beneath its fragrant boughs;
The myrtle I have watched at e’en
Refreshed from heaven with dewy showers,
But all the trees of eastern clime
Are strangers to the birken tree;
The mountain ash and smelling thyme
Are healing virtues now to me.
Yes, Scotland! thou art dear to me,
Tho’ steep and rugged and tho’ cold,
Your mountain breeze is balm to me--
Your freeborn sons are stout and bold.
A VOICE FROM THE BATTLE-FIELD.
Hark! ’tis the war-cry of carnage and sorrow:
The host now are standing in battle array;
How many now blooming will fall e’er to-morrow:
Alas! ’tis too late--they rush to the fray.
Weep, ye fond mothers! for sons and relations
Lie bleeding in gore, ah! ne’er to return
To the homes of their youth, to enjoy consolation;
They die for their country: weep ye and mourn.
Heard ye the slogan? See, look, now, and wonder,
They grasp one another in murderous fray;
A thousand large cannon sounds louder than thunder:
Weep, ye fair maidens! the avenger doth slay.
See their pale faces, so death-like and gory--
No smile from a mother to soothe down their pain;
They die! yet their names are recorded in story
How they fought for their country, their honour, and fame.
The last gun has ceased from its death-stirring rattle,
The soldier, now weary, seeks some place to rest:
He thinks on his home, where in youth he made battle
In innocence;--now he is put to the test.
THE END.
FOOTNOTES:
[A] Sir Colin Campbell.
[B] Saw-mill of Glenferness.
TRANSCRIBER’S NOTE
Obvious typographical errors and punctuation errors have been
silently corrected after careful comparison with other occurrences
within the text and consultation of external sources.
Some hyphens in words have been silently removed, some added,
when a predominant preference was found in the original book.
Except for those changes noted below, all misspellings in the text,
and inconsistent or archaic usage, have been retained.
Pg 7: ‘Such wore the’ replaced by ‘Such were the’.
Pg 12: ‘offspring of Lociel’ replaced by ‘offspring of Lochiel’.
Pg 14: ‘nor shround to wind’ replaced by ‘nor shroud to wind’.
Pg 15: ‘hardship, unparelleled’ replaced by ‘hardship, unparalleled’.
Pg 16: ‘another Babal’ replaced by ‘another Babel’.
Pg 21: ‘of the the war’ replaced by ‘of the war’.
Pg 24: ‘calamity befel us’ replaced by ‘calamity befell us’.
Pg 33: ‘quel the rebellion’ replaced by ‘quell the rebellion’.
Pg 34: The original book had a duplicate ‘CHAPTER VIII’ heading; it
has been changed to ‘CHAPTER VIIIa’.
Pg 36: ‘such a camels’ replaced by ‘such as camels’.
Pg 41: ‘Lieutenant M‘Nain’ replaced by ‘Lieutenant M‘Nair’.
Pg 46: ‘was loosing temper’ replaced by ‘was losing temper’.
Pg 49: ‘their fate cooly’ replaced by ‘their fate coolly’.
Pg 53: ‘pace the varandah’ replaced by ‘pace the verandah’.
Pg 55: ‘Currachee’ replaced by ‘Kurrachee’.
Pg 57: ‘the little alticles’ replaced by ‘the little articles’.
Pg 68: ‘and hard buscuit’ replaced by ‘and hard biscuit’.
Pg 71: ‘He appeard to be’ replaced by ‘He appeared to be’.
Pg 99: ‘She sooths away’ replaced by ‘She soothes away’.