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ADVENTURES
IN
Holland and at Waterloo;
AND
EXPEDITION TO PORTUGAL.

PROCEEDINGS IN HOLLAND, UNDER THE COMMAND
OF GENERAL SIR THOMAS GRAHAM, &c., &c.

By Corporal Knight.

MELBOURNE:
R. BELL, PRINTER, 97 LITTLE COLLINS STREET EAST.
1870.

About thirty-three years ago, Thomas Knight (the author of this work) published a very interesting account of his adventures. A few members of the Stock Exchange bore the principal portion of the expense of printing them. While attached to the Army in Portugal, he was in the same regiment as my brother, Major F. E. Ebsworth, and servant to him.

FRED. EBSWORTH.

Sydney, 11th March, 1867.

Adventures in Holland and Waterloo;
AND THE
EXPEDITION TO PORTUGAL.

My father was a cabinet maker at Frome, in Somersetshire. I was bound apprentice to a weaver, not liking such a quiet life I ran off to sea, and entered on board a collier at Southampton, as cabin-boy. In returning we were driven into Ramsgate by a squall. The cook and I left the captain to prepare his own dinner. We were fortunate enough to fall in with a return post-chaise, and were carried along like gentlemen to Canterbury. This was in the year 1811, or the beginning of 1812, when soldiers were much wanted, and I thought myself a sharp sort of fellow, and was fond of a frolic. More than one sergeant tried to cajole me. Two rifle brigadesmen came to the town on furlough; they had green jackets; but their fine promises were too much for me. At length they got the best of me, and enlisted me. I was taken down to Shawn Cliff to the regiment, and had to be inspected by the doctor; and the following day I was taken to Hyde to be sworn in by the magistrate. He asked me which I would go for—limited service or unlimited service. “What is the difference in the money?” I asked. “Limited service is 10 guineas, and unlimited service 16 guineas.” I said, “as I may not live seven years, I will take the 16 guineas.” I received 8 guineas (one half of my bounty) and returned towards the barracks. I was gaping about at what the soldiers were doing, when one old chap came up to me and said I was his first cousin. “I am not quite so green as to be done in that way,” I answered. However, I soon fell in with a few jolly comrades, and spent forty shillings out of the half of my bounty. After buying a few articles I stood in need of, the rest of my bounty went in two days more. Then I had to go through my discipline, after which I went on guard, and considered myself an old soldier. There were 200 of the ablest men picked out to go to Holland. One was a married man, who had a family of children; the wife was making a great fuss about her husband going out, and I said I would not mind taking his place. I did so. The following day the general had to inspect us. He said it was not proper I should go out, as I could not stand the fatigue; and asked who selected me. I told him I had a notion of going out in place of private Rourke, who had a wife and family. “Bravo!” he cried. “Well, we will try you.”

The day after, we marched to Dover, and then went on to Deal, in all eighteen miles. This I found severe work, but did not let it appear so, as we were about to leave England. I and five others were billetted at Deal Castle, in the Walmer Road. In the course of the evening a mutton pieman came into the room, calling out, “All hot! toss or buy.” We bought and ate all his pies, shied the little dishes at one another, made the pieman drunk, and enlisted him. His master came to fetch him away, and we compelled him to pay a guinea smart money, which lengthened the treat.

The next day we went to Ramsgate, and had hopes of passing a night there; but were marched through the town, put on board ship, and not allowed to pass the sentry without leave from the commanding officer. As I and the rest of my comrades could not get leave, I was resolved to get the better of them; so when night came I pulled off some off my clothes, slipped over the side, and swam on shore. I had a good “spree” that night among some friends I had been living with, as I thought it might be my last in Great Britain. The next morning I went on board, and was confined in the chain locker, which I did not mind, since I was happy there as on the quarter-deck. We set sail the following day, and soon came in sight of Ostend. We had to land in boats; and before the last men were on shore, the first were quite uproarious from drinking Hollands. The colonel, in “falling us in,” said he would work us for that. We then marched to Ghent, and were quartered in some old outlandish buildings for that night.

We then proceeded to Bergen-op-Zoom, to which our army was laying siege. After the town had been taken, additional troops were placed to keep possession of it, whilst other regiments had to march to the rear. We next marched to Cotterie, from there to Ypres, and then (in 1814) to Dixmieux, and quartered at a house in the town. The people were very sulky; they obliged me to cook in my canteen, and gave me a pretty piece of work to make it look smart on field-day, which was not so whenever I found people desirous to attend on me and treat me as they ought. But these people were so bothersome and troublesome, that I bothered them in every fashion, by marching into their clean rooms with my dirty shoes, till at last I forced them to pay me proper attention. Notwithstanding, I went to the billet-master to procure a fresh billet; and he asked me where I would like to go. I was fortunate enough to get a billet on a shop. I went with the billet to a house in the Market-square, knocked at the door, and two beautiful girls made their appearance, one about my age (seventeen years), the other about nineteen. They kindly accepted the billet, and in I walked; and they sent me down good refreshment, which I required. I was very thankful to get into such good quarters, and assisted them in all the little jobs about the house, such as cooking and serving other men.

Our rations were drawn from the town butchers and bakers, and our grog issued by the non-commissioned officers of companies. Some used to take the bottles and canteens “after,” but I used to take the right sort of canteen (when once down my throat I thought it was the best place for it), consisting of a half-pint of good Hollands gin. One afternoon, after the gin had been served out, some of us soldiers assembled and decided that we would have some sport with snowballs. There were a dozen or fifteen round it, and we consulted as to what we had better do with it. It would not do to leave it in one of the public streets, and the colonel not being a favorite with us, we rolled the snowball up to the front door of his quarters, which obliged him to go out at the back of the house. He laughed at the trick, but was never after without a sentry. Sometimes the inhabitants gave us a challenge (arranged to be outside the town) to have some sport with snowballs. There we commenced the battle with officers and soldiers. We beat the inhabitants up and down, the snow congealing over the ditches and houses; and down it was with many a one: plump they went into the ditches, roaring out for help. The windows that day had a bad time of it. After all was over we offered to pay for the broken ones, but the inhabitants would not permit such a thing; as we accepted the challenge they would pay all expenses.

What with skating, sliding, and drinking “schnapps,” we spent our time pretty merrily; and then had orders to advance into the frontiers of France (1815). We marched to Louis, and brigaded with the 52nd Light Infantry, the 71st Scotch, and the 15th Hussars attached to our brigade (the 1st Brigade, 2nd Division), commanded by General Sir Frederick Adam. Our field-days (two in the week) were Tuesdays and Fridays; the French occupied the ground on Mondays and Thursdays. Our brigade sent out daily 100 rank and file, one captain, two subalterns, and a portion of the squadron considered on piquet duty. The river divided the small town called Munge. The 15th Hussars, with their horses, occupied the Market House; the sentries were on a portion of the bridge (a division across it), the French sentry on one side, and the British on the other; the 7th Black Horse had the barracks, opposite the French side of the river; fourteen sentries by day and twenty-eight by night, a portion of the 15th Hussars, patrolling on the banks of the river, looking out for any alarm. Two companies of the Rifles were ordered to take the advance post. We marched to Turp, two leagues from Louis, head-quarters, there to remain till further orders.

Our field-days were as usual. We had a league further to go. I was very badly off for clothing at the time, and the colonel told us we could patch our clothing with any thing of a dark nature, as our rifle uniform was supposed to be of a dark green. I went to the quarter-master’s stores to procure two pairs of pantaloons, at eighteen francs per pair; I also drew a pair of boots at the same price. I put on a pair of pantaloons to go to field-day in. In jumping of ditches in skirmishing order, I split the first pair of pantaloons into pieces; the other pair went in the same manner; I then had to put on my old patched friends, while I could get one pair made out of the two damaged ones; my boots went in the same way,—coming home from field-day the weather was very severe, the soles parted company from the upper leathers, so I had to tread along on my bare toes.

I went on guard on the 15th day of June: it came to my turn at eleven o’clock at night to relieve a soldier on outlying sentry. The sentry, in giving up the orders to me, said that “I was to keep a sharp look out betwixt those two trees, and when you see the beacon guard blaze up, you are to set fire to this.” I said, “What do you mean, you gapes? Do you mean to set fire to a turnip field as the seed of the turnips is up to our heads?” I found out by his winks and words that I was not to set fire to any such sort of thing, but to retire to the guard-house and give the sergeant information when I saw the beacon blaze. About one o’clock on the sixteenth morning the sergeant of the guard informed the colonel what the sentry had seen. The colonel gave orders to the orderly bugler who was on guard, to sound the assembly; I got permission, after changing the guard, to go and take leave of the people I was quartered on. The woman of the house filled my haversack with bread and cheese, etc. I fell in, marched off about four o’clock on the morning. We marched on during the sixteenth day, and on the sixteenth evening came into a long town called Tourwee; halted outside the town to take a little refreshment, and proceeded on during the night with a guide. After some distance, about three leagues (nine miles), the guide left us, giving the colonel instructions which way he was to take, but the latter, missing his way, came upon a battery occupied by the French: the sentry on the ramparts called out, “Qui Vive?” (Qui Vive—English, “Halt! who comes there?”) The colonel gave orders to the men to retire in double time; the sentry challenging three times, and no answer in return, fired a round shot from the battery after us; but, fortunately enough, without doing any harm. We came into a village which we had passed through during the night: the colonel thought it was requisite to put the men into the different houses till the following morning, till the seventeenth approached. Accordingly, myself, with eleven others, were put into one house together. We kept the old man (Pizan) busily employed in bringing wine out of the cellars during the remainder of that night; so we had an excellent “chevot.” The following morning the bugle sounded “turn out the whole,” just at the dawn of day. We formed companies, marching off in sections from the right, down a hill in the breadth of the township. At the foot of the hill there was a rapid stream of water, and a narrow bridge over it, wide enough for about one rank and file to go over abreast. The colonel waded through the river on horseback; it took him up rather higher than the flaps of his saddle; the men began to file march over the river, officers and soldiers. The colonel observing the men coming over the bridge, he called out, “Advance through the water;” I saw a great many of my height up to the armpits; I put up my pouch over my shoulder, and also my rifle—I had a hard struggle to stand against the stream. After we had crossed the river we formed companies; we marched off up a lane and through a wood, and passed by our old friends, the 52nd, lying down half dead at the top of the hill, from fatigue; they gave us three cheers, and we turned and saluted the same; we marched on to where the French had been encamped on the fifteenth night, and our army had driven them back on the sixteenth morning. The ground was covered with dead and wounded—we marched on to Mount Reveille; from there to Quatre Bras, and from there to Mount St. Jean, in which place the French lay in the rear. On Saturday, the seventeenth, we took up our position in the meadow at the foot of the hill of Mount St. Jean, when the commissary butchers were ordered to kill and cut up for the Light Brigade—some having got wood, others muddy water from the ditch—hanging our camp kettles, we lost no time in cooking it, when we were not a little astonished by a volley of shot rattling about us; but being loathe to lose our beef, some of which was cooked, and some quite raw, we tore off a few morsels, stuffing what we could into our haversacks, quickly ready to advance. Great was our disappointment, however, to find that we had been disturbed by the Brunswickers, who never having seen a rifleman in our dark uniform, took us for French. We still kept on the advance, and came into the hard road turning towards Brussels, to the left, passing by the Coldstream Guards on our present right; they gave us three cheers, and returned a salute. We marched leisurely towards Brussels, within four leagues, or twelve miles, turning towards Brussels to the left, coming into Moret Reveille early in evening.

THE BATTLE OF WATERLOO.

On the 17th of June, 1815, the Duchess of Richmond gave a little tea entertainment at Brussels, with dancing in the programme, and for which latter purpose the Brussels’ carpets had to be taken up. A few hours previous to this eventful festivity, the commander of the British regulars had been taking pot luck with the Prince of Orange and Count Von Schwillensweiper, of the German embassy. Scarcely had the apples and nuts been placed upon the table, when an aide-de-camp, all stuccoed over with rural mud, rushed into the apartment, and placed before his Grace a dirty despatch, sealed with a pipe stem. “Take a chair and a nobbler,” said the Duke to the muddy young gentleman, after which he opened the tobacco-scented missive, and, then, with his characteristic determination, said nothing more. The fact was, that Bonaparte had begun hitting Blucher, who had immediately sent to tell his big brother. “He’s at him again,”—ce coquin Bony—quietly remarked the Duke, when the messenger had quitted the room, and then he placed a lot of nut-shells to show the position of the armies; “very simple,” continued his Grace, “It lies in a nutshell—in for a penny, in for a pound, and to-morrow we shall pound away.” The ball was brilliant in the extreme, but it did not escape attention that the Duke wore thick boots before midnight. The commander-in-chief slipped out, pretending he wanted a smoke. Picton, whose presence of mind never forsook him, put a truffed sausage in each pocket. The Prince of Orange whispered to the Duchess that “Ney had turned up, and was teasing the Prussians.” “Ney turned up,” replied her witty Grace of Richmond—what Nay retrouse. They kept up the capering till daylight, long before which the Belgian belles couldn’t imagine what had become of the red coats. The famous engagement of the 18th of June—it must be borne in mind, that June is summer-time in Belgium—was fought in a corn field, to the great injury of the crops. The rival armies were considered as two of the best teams that had ever met. It began, some historians say, at ten o’clock sharp, while others contend that the Emperor had not breakfasted at that time, but the fact is, that the battle seems to have resembled many quarrels. It is difficult to say exactly, how it commenced. Charges were made from either side in turn, and there was a good deal of recrimination, and bad language followed. Sir Thomas Picton, at the head of his gallant men, who were all picked ones, fought till he was out of breath. Hundreds of poor fellows cut about till they had’nt a leg to stand upon, and the brave Lord Uxbridge found himself with only one. To heighten the horrors of the scene, it came on to rain in the afternoon, and the smell of gunpowder is described as having been most oppressive. “Sire,” exclaimed a distinguished general officer, as he stood upon a looking-out arrangement, like a fire escape, “I see troops in the distance. They must be Prussians—they look blue.” “Sacre bleu,” roared the Emperor, “blue be confounded.” His Imperial Majesty spoke polite English with fluency. “They’ll all look blue before I have done with them.” It was the Prussian blue notwithstanding. At last somebody told the French emperor that the Prussians were coming up to have a finger in the pie. “You be hanged!” (allez rous faire pendre) roared Napoleon; “Its Grouchy, but he knows better,” and fancying that his Grenadiers had got their second wind, he ordered them to charge like mad. With a tremendous shout of “Vive le Empereur,” which means “hoor-oar,” and sounds just like it. They came on the British columns crouched in the mud, and the Frenchmen fancied they had gone down to avoid punishment. “Ces coquins boutiquiers,” sneered the Emperor, as he began to cut up a pipe of tobacco. At this moment, the iron Duke, whose ferruginous nature made him turn rusty at times, got quite out of temper, and gave his celebrated order for his men to get up and “Give it ’em hot.” This, of course, decided the whole business. “Confound it,” said the Emperor, looking through his opera-glass, “There some mistake?” He was right. In a few minutes an “aide” galloped up to tell him “that his men were demoralised, and turning like red-shanks.” “It’s all up”—tout est en dessus—cried Napoleon, blowing his nose from excess of emotion. “Your orders, sire,” anxiously continued the staff officer. “My carriage!” was the mournful utterance of the unfortunate commander, still busy with his pocket handkerchief. It was Bonaparte’s last order on the field of Waterloo!—

James Richardson,
18th Royal Irish Regiment, Melbourne.

From the severity of the weather during our march our men were constantly falling; our shoes came off, and we had to walk in our stockings; our bed at night was a corn field; our covering, blankets soaking in wet. Some setting out to forage, picking up a little wood and putting it on the fire, we had a little rest; and much we needed it. Awaking early next morning (Sunday, 18th), we wrang our blankets, folded them up, and put them under our straps on our knapsacks. We had orders to remain there until further orders, when we had an order to take up ground as a reserve, and there to remain under an expectation of the French coming down the lane to cut off our rear. We lay there until eleven o’clock, when we had orders to advance and to cover the 52nd lines in skirmishing order; in case of being driven in by the cavalry, to form on the right of the 52nd lines, and to the left of the artillery; and to remain there to fire in line until the bugle sounded the advance, firing in skirmishing order. About half-past four o’clock, observing some heavy cavalry charging down to cut off the Light Brigade—supposed to be 800 of the “Cuirassiers,” who charged up within about 500 yards on to the field of artillery—General Adam called to the officers commanding the artillery to commence firing on the French Cuirassiers. From the first round of the artillery they made a roadway between the columns; the second round from the artillery we could not observe them for smoke; and from the third round we were completely masked by smoke and darkness, as the smoke contracted along the right of the lines. The trumpet sounded from the cavalry, and the Light Infantry Corps of bugles and drums rolled for the charge; and on we stepped, cheering and charging. We made the infantry give way, and took possession of thirty-two field pieces of artillery and a number of prisoners belonging to Napoleon’s army. The 42nd Highlanders charged the French into the wood of Genappe, just at the back of a farm called Hugenot,—the farm that was taken and re-taken seven times during the 18th; very heavy slaughter round the wood and farm; the 42nd were nearly cut to pieces; about 200 came out of the wood out of 700 engaged. Wellington gave orders to retire, to bring the French out of the wood after us.

The inhabitants of Brussels were informed that Napoleon had captured Field-Marshal Wellington; they were all up in arms in Brussels, throwing their baggage into the river to prevent the French from plundering. The British Army faced about, made a heavy charge on the French, and drove them back to their former position (in the wood). We kept skirmishing, taking up ground in different positions, till close up nightfall, when we observed some heavy columns coming up from the rear, from the Brussels side. We expected it was Grouchy, with 40,000 French troops. I made the remark that we were all hemmed in betwixt two fires; but, however, it turned out to be Blucher with the same reinforcement for us. We brought our right shoulders forward, and we made a desperate attack on the French. I witnessed the French firing over their shoulders at us, under their retreat. Leaving the farm and the wood to our right, when up the brow of the hill leading towards Brussels, about half a mile distant,—the French officers of all ranks and soldiers lay so thick on the ground that you could scarcely get a yard of ground but what we stumbled against either a horse or man,—we came into the road leading from Brussels to Paris. By this time it became nightfall with us. We took up our position on the right of the road, and threw ourselves down on the ground to have some rest. We had nothing to eat; and were almost asleep before we reached the ground. Awaking early on Monday, 19th, we could scarcely believe our eyes, that there were only six of us together. We went on foraging. Some Brunswickers and ourselves got a big “porker” in the farmyard; we brought him into camp and hoisted him on three poles, and put a good fire under his jacket; so, as it was getting ready, we cut off slices of it to our heart’s content. We managed to get some wine, when we proceeded on our way. We came down to a village, distant about half a mile, called Floreice, on the main road from Brussels to Paris—that which the French occupied during the three days of Waterloo. We went out in search of our comrades, and had some of the Brunswickers with us. On the right of the Paris road, about half a mile from the village, we discovered some of the rifles, as we thought; but they turned out to be Brunswickers, for their uniform and ours were so much alike. We were informed by an officer of that corps that an officer and some of the rifles lay over to the left of the road; and the officer, discovering us, jumped up and shook us by the hand; glad he was to see us alive. Out of 205 rank and file who went into the field on the 18th June, about eleven o’clock, 172 killed and wounded were lost, leaving thirty-three men. We lay there that day and part of the next, when we had orders to advance. We refreshed ourselves with fruit from the roadside. The potato fields suffered much also. When encamped our swords and bayonets served us for spades.

On our journey to Paris, we travelled at the rate of four leagues (twelve miles) per diem. At the end of the day, as soon as the tents were pitched, throwing my accoutrements and knapsack into the tent, and taking my haversack and canteen, I used to make an object of proceeding into the country to procure some provender. I one day had to visit a wine cellar. I took a good drop of wine, filled my canteen, and brought up a pitcher with a portion of wine in it; and who should be in the room but the provost-marshal. As soon as he saw me deliver the pitcher in the kitchen, he kicked it over with his foot, called the sergeant of the provost, and told him to go down into the cellar and bring up a soldier: I had concealed myself behind the door of the cellar. The sergeant passed me, went down, looked about, but could not discover me; he went up and told the captain that I was not there, saying that the cellar was too dark for him to see me. I was in a rifle dress. “Take a light down, sergeant,” said the provost-marshal, which he did, and then hunted about for me again, but still could not find me. However, in coming up the cellar steps, he saw me behind the door, and brought me into the apartment where the captain was standing. “Oh,” he said, “Mr Rifleman, I have got you at last. I have had a great deal of trouble in catching you.” He ordered the sergeant to appoint four men to take me to the rear guard; so the four men came up and told me to march on, one on each side and two in the rear, the captain giving them strict orders not to let me go. They brought me down to the rear guard, and put me into an apartment where there were twenty more prisoners. The captain also gave orders to the sergeant to “fall us in,” and march us into an orchard to receive the punishment that was to be inflicted upon us. “Come, Mr Rifleman,” he said, “I will begin with you first.” He just read over a small sentence to me, to the effect that I was to receive twenty-four lashes, and ordered me to strip off. I was tied to an apple-tree, and, coming round me, the captain said, “If you will join the provost, it will prevent you from being punished.” “No, captain,” I answered; “I will not leave my regiment.” He then ordered the drummer to put the “cat” on my back. When I had received one dozen, the captain again told me if I would consent to his request he would cease flogging me. I still refused, and he ordered the drummer to give me the other dozen. As soon as they had finished they took me down, and the captain ordered the sergeant to empty my canteen of the wine; they then gave me my canteen and haversack and told me to proceed to the camp. I picked up my clothing, and went over a wall out of the orchard. I then commenced to put my clothes on. In the meantime they had another man tied up to the same tree as I had been at, and, I believe, they gave him five or six lashes, when he bellowed out, begging for mercy, and said that he would never plunder any more if the captain would let him down. I heard no more of him, but proceeded towards the camp, leaving the Provost about half a mile to the rear of me. I got into a farm house and filled my canteen with good wine again, and was fortunate enough to pick up part of a loaf. Coming out of the yard I knocked a fowl down, put it into my haversack, and proceeded into the camp. It was late in the evening. I went into the officers’ marquee and told him what had taken place, giving him full particulars. He asked me to pull off my clothes and he examined my back. “Oh!” he said, “they have not hurt you much.” But I told him I felt very sore, and that I should be hardly able to carry my knapsack on the morrow. He said he would get it put on the baggage waggon, so that I had nothing to carry but my accoutrements, sixty rounds of ball cartridge in my pouch, and forty in my haversack; the weight of these caused my shirt to stick to my back, and gave me great pain. Afterwards I usually kept myself very quiet.

The Prussians had the advance of the British Army, when the French came up the River Seine, which they had to cross. They opposed the Prussians. An express order came to the rear for the British Army to push forward in forced marches; so we proceeded on at the rate of twenty-one miles per diem, under a broiling sun, and, on the third evening we formed on the top of the hill where the Prussians were encamped. On the following morning we erected a substantial battery. By giving the French a few rounds from the artillery, after a short time, we compelled them to move. Word was then given to charge, and we drove them across the river; but before we arrived at the river, the enemy blew up the Bridge of Lourai, which left them on the St. Denis side, and we on the other.

We discovered a flour mill on the banks of the river, and I said to one of my comrades, “I will go down and see if I can find some flour.” Accordingly, I proceeded to the mill, got inside without any difficulty, and discovered a large flour bin, in which I found as much flour as my haversack would hold. In coming down the mill steps from out of the mill, I met another man coming up upon the same errand as myself; he called out, “Miller, what is the price of a sixpenny loaf?” I said, “Faith, comrade, if I have a white jacket, I have no white feather; better to be a miller than starving.” As my uniform was all green, the flour on the skirts of my coat caused me to appear more like a magpie than a rifleman. There was plenty of wine in all the farm houses, and I availed myself of it by mixing it with the flour, by which we soon had a good pot of dumplings; it made good “prog,” I can assure the reader.

Our pontoons being someway down the river, the Prussians went down to cross the pontoons—the boats came up the river the following day to take the British army over. As soon as we all got across the river, the Prussians and the British army made a rapid attack across St. Denis until we came up to where there was a bridge leading across an arm of the river; the bridge was obstructed by trees being thrown across it to prevent us from crossing. On each angle of the bridge, there was a chevaux de frise, and in the main road a large trench was cut about twelve feet deep, and twelve feet wide; and also a barricade formed across the road, consisting of empty wine casks filled with earth, &c.; but in spite of all this opposition, our artillery unyoked their horses from the guns to draw the trees from off the bridge; the sappers and miners also cleared away to let the army over, and filled up the trenches. After we got across upon the main road, our cavalry sounded the trumpet, and the light infantry the key bugles, and the bands played from the regiments of the line. We had about three miles to go before we entered Paris; the Prussians on our right were bombarding the outlets of the city. Previous to our arrival within a quarter of a mile of the township, they sent out a flag of truce, agreeing to surrender Paris to us; so we marched into the town with colours flying and drums beating, the people on the tops of the houses, and leaning over the balconies, some thousands of them singing out, “Vive le Roi!” and others, in opposition, “Vive Napoleon!” But witnessing the number of the army, they thought it best to desist; we went through the Palais Royal, and then marched out and took up our quarters convenient to the river; the fifty-second light infantry and the seventy-first Scotch regiments, and the rifles, occupied the opposite side of the road to that on which the seventy-second light infantry were; a portion of the cossacks were stationed along with us, and also the artillery; the commissariat took up their department on one side of the camping ground to serve us out with rations. I often amused myself by looking at the river side, and going into a river on top of the horses’ backs naked: when the horse would be out of his depth, he would strike off swimming, and the man would swim alongside of the horse; they used to go a considerable way from the bank, turn their horses heads round, and swim back after them.

The constant practice amongst the soldiers was plunder. When the inhabitants came out to see the soldiers, before they returned to the town they were robbed; reports went to Wellington about these offences, and upon all those that were caught corporal punishment was inflicted. When our light brigade was in camp, scarcely a day passed without some flogging; I was very keen myself to see if I could get something in the way of provender to enable me to be strong and long-winded. I went out one night with several others about a mile from the camping ground, to procure some vegetables in the gardens belonging to the Pizans, or market-gardeners; we had a strong mud wall to go over, dividing the road from the garden, about ten foot high; we all got over the wall and went up through the gardens, and the owners of the place hearing us began to fire away with their old muskets at us, and compelled us to retire. In coming back to cross the wall, I made a leap with the rest of my comrades—unfortunately, in trying to get over, I caught hold of the top of the wall, which being, as I said before, of mud, gave way, and down I came on the broad of my back inside the garden again; and I was alarmed about my bones, when I concealed myself under the wall. The gardeners were at this time going up and down looking for us; they were calling out, in French, “Sacre non de dieu!” (which means in plain English, “Damn your eyes and limbs!”) also, that “we were a lot of thieves.” There was a dog not far from me, that set to howling, which enlightened them as to where I was concealed, when they all came up and dragged me out by the collar, and vowed vengeance on me; they brought me to the gateway, and in pushing me through the gateway into the road, one fellow gave me a rap on the back of the head with a pole, which made me see all the colours of the rainbow; I thought this was too much to stand from a Frenchman: but their being too strong for me, I proceeded quietly to the camp determining to watch my chance. We used often to meet them coming into market with their vegetables, so, instead of going over mud walls any more, we helped ourselves from their carts to get an excellent supply.

Our field-days were on Tuesdays and Fridays, something better than a league of three miles towards St. Denis, in an angle of Mont Mart. We used to go through our evolutions, of forming line and squares, &c., during the day, and then retire to camp. Some time in August (I cannot remember the exact date), there were two men ordered by Wellington to be executed; one belonged to the 71st regiment of the line, and the other to the 52nd light infantry. The 71st man was to be hung on a tree, and the 52nd man to be shot; and, as the regiment stood in close column to watch the execution, placed in such a position that every man could witness it, the man was first hanged; and we then changed front to the rear to witness the man who was to be shot; when we faced about, the man was kneeling on his coffin, and his grave before him; the Chaplain was praying with the man some considerable time while he was on his coffin, and when the Chaplain was about to bid him farewell, he shook hands with him. Immediately the provost-marshal ordered the sergeant to draw the cap over his eyes; as soon as he did so, the General of the Brigade gave orders for the men to prime and load. Just as the men were coming to the “recover,” and then to the “present,” waiting for orders to fire, an orderly dragoon came into the field as hard as he could; the General called out to stop the execution till the dragoon came up; when he arrived before the General, he pulled round his sabretash, and presented a despatch from Wellington to the General of Brigade; when he opened it and discovered the contents, he ordered the man to be liberated, and the cap to be drawn from off his head, which was thrown on the ground, and unfastened his arms, which were pinioned behind him. He jumped off the coffin, and stood for a minute or two quite confused, when he wheeled himself about and went up through the columns as smart as ever I saw a man walk. The General called out to form line of regiments, to step off in slow time by subdivisions, and to march past the gallows where the man was hanging from the tree, for an example against plundering. The General called out to the Colonels to march their regiments to their respective camping grounds; which we did, the band playing “Over the hills and far away,” leaving the corpse hanging on the tree behind us. Some short time after this occurrence, all hands were to attend parade—sick, lame and lazy—at the square of the general hospital. There was a man brought up by the provost to be flogged for plundering; his sentence was for 1,000 lashes. When he was tied up to the triangles, he received 500 lashes and never cried “Oh!” to it; the other 500 were to be delivered at another time. He was conveyed away to the hospital to be dressed by the doctor, and we marched back to the camping ground. A fortnight after, the brigade all mustered again and assembled in the general hospital yard; the man was brought out and then received the other 500 lashes; at the first lash the blood spurted out, but he took the whole of the lashes without uttering a word; and we marched back again to our camping ground.

We used to have parades and field-days as usual. Nothing more took place of any importance, as far as I witnessed, until the early part of October, when the brigade all fell in one morning, marched toward the city, and formed in line, with the cavalry and artillery on each flank, and there remained till further orders, while they were taking down the statues that Bonaparte had taken from other countries. From the sulky looks of the inhabitants that day, we expected some disturbance; but seeing the numbers of the allied army, they kept themselves quiet. We marched back into the camp during the evening, and there lay till further orders. On the 12th of October we had orders to break up camp, and our brigade marched to Versailles, four leagues from Paris, and there to remain till further orders. Our brigade field-days were as usual; there was very little I can give an account of for the short time that we were in Versailles. The Rifles were then ordered to march to Calais, to embark for Great Britain. We went on board the troop ship after stopping in Calais only two days. The Jewish inhabitants came on board to know if any of the soldiers had anything to dispose of; they said they would buy anything, so the men asked them would they buy blankets, and they replied they would—those being the campaign blankets; the men asked how much they would give for a blanket, they said eighteen francs, to which some of us agreed, some selling half a one only, which my comrade and myself did, dividing one between us for our use, and selling the other and dividing the money. I purchased a few articles with the proceeds, from the French Jews, such as I stood in need of.

The following morning we proceeded on our way, and the second day we sighted Dover, at which place we had to land. We found on the beach, Colonel Duffay (formerly belonging to the forty-third light infantry) who took the command from Colonel Ross; he gave orders for all those that had articles on the top of their knapsacks to take them off and to leave them on the beach; I picked up some of my things and concealed them about me as well as I could; we then marched up to the quarter-master’s stores—companies being called for, and the list being gone over to go forward and give in their blankets, haversacks, and canteens: some had none, others threw in half a one, but those were as well off who threw in nothing, as those who had only a half one. After this had been done, we marched to the heights, and took up our position in barracks, and there remained till further orders.

Our parades and duty were very moderate; we remained here for two months, when we had orders to march to Ramsgate, to embark on board of troopships for Ireland. We disembarked six miles from Waterford, at a place called Darsage—marched six miles into Waterford, took up our position on the Quay, and there remained till the billets were issued out—only one night. The following morning we marched to New Ross, in the County of Wexford, twelve miles; we came up to the bridge leading into the town, when the band struck up playing through the town, and we formed in the Market Square. Shortly after the billets were handed out by the sergeants of companies; I received a billet for six of us, and went to the house, which was a huckster’s shop. The woman of the house said, “Well, men, we have not much room to put you into;” but we said we could put up with that; so she showed us an apartment where we had to reside, and we put our knapsacks, &c., all up on one side of the room and slept on the other. We came out into another apartment to get a smoke of our pipes, where there was a large turf fire, and we sat down beside if, and the woman of the house asked us if we would take any refreshments, and we replied that we would; she asked us what we would take, and we said “anything;” so with that she put a big pot on the fire, full of potatoes, about fourteen pounds. While they were boiling, she threw in a quantity of eggs on the top, and set about laying the tablecloth; she then took a lot of bacon and fried two pansfull of it, and set it all down before us, with plenty of good table ale, bread, &c. After we had made a good meal, I asked the woman of the house what the expenses would be, she said, “Two tenpenny pieces;” I said to my comrade, “You pay threepence halfpenny, and I will do the same.” I told two others to pay the same, and two threepence each, making in all one and eightpence; after we had smoked our pipes a bit, we made our departure to go to the town; we went into the market and saw a great quantity of provisions; I asked the price of potatoes per stone, and was told three halfpence; I asked what the eggs were per dozen, they told me two pence; how much the bacon was per lb., they said three halfpence. I thought to myself our dinners were charged for very moderately. We then retired down through the town, and took two or three glasses of whisky. In the evening we returned and took some more refreshment, the following morning we did the same, and continued this kind of living until Monday.

Sunday being a halting day, I had a pair of boots that wanted soleing and heeling; I took them to the shoemaker belonging to the company, but he said he would work for nobody on the Sabbath day. As our route was for Dublin, I knew my boots would not carry me there, and I was determined to get them mended by Monday. I tied them up in my handkerchief, went down through the town with them to see if I could get them done there; I was informed by a man where I could; he directed me to a back lane, and knocked at the door of a house; I asked the person who opened it if he was a shoemaker; he replied, “I am;” I said, “I have a pair of boots to mend;” he replied that he did not work on the Sabbath, but, as I was a soldier on the line of march, he would do them for me; so I went in; he set to work to mend them at once, and was not long before he had them repaired. I asked what he charged; he said, “As you are a soldier I will only charge you tenpence,” for which I said I was very thankful, and asked him if he would take a glass of whisky, at which he agreed, and we went out at once to a whisky shop; I called for half a pint, and totted out a good bumper to the old man, which he kindly accepted, and wished me all prosperity. We agreed very well, and both got pretty “top heavy;” I then wished him good bye.

I went back to my residence, and lay down to have a sleep; when I woke up I found I was all right. On the morning following the bugle sounded “Turn out the whole;” I went down and fell in with my company; the roll was called; after we had all answered to our names, we marched off in two divisions; the right wing to which I belonged was to go through Kilkenny, and from that to Dublin. When we arrived there we took our up residence in the Palatine Square, convenient to the Royal Square; we did duty for two years in Dublin; our parade and duties were very severe—every other night upon guard, and field days very hard. After the two years were up we were ordered to King’s County, sixty-three miles from Dublin and forty-one from Talamore, there to do duty until further orders. Shortly after the arrival the colonel had an order to break up the battalion, so we gave in our arms and our accoutrements—one company each day. Previous to our being dismissed the colonel formed square, and told us he was going in as colonel of the first battalion, and if any of us would wish to join him we could. A great many did, but I did not. I took a blank discharge, as a soldier of good conduct; I had all my regimental pay given to me, and so much a mile to the place of my enlistment. We then were sent to Dublin, sixty-three miles; we marched from Barr to Talamore, and arrived in the evening, having walked forty-two miles in one day; we put up at a public-house, and in the course of the evening two men came in at about nine o’clock, and asked if there were any passengers for Dublin; we asked what sort of a conveyance they had; they said, “Canal boats;” we asked what they would charge each; they replied, “Two tenpenny pieces each;” so we got a drop more to drink, and all departed at ten o’clock.

In getting into the canal boats there was great amusement, and during the night we had fiddling and dancing, and we kept it up till the morning, when we arrived on the quay in Dublin; we then had to proceed to the recruiting depot, on the Kings-end road, leading toward the Pigeon house, and there we lay till further orders on board of the Edward, barque, troopship; we lay there two days, and on the third day we weighed anchor at nightfall, and proceeded on our way.

We proceeded on our way, and were driven by a squall into Milford Haven, at which place we had to lie during the time the ship was undergoing a thorough repair, ready for sea again. We had about 300 soldiers of different regiments—all discharged men—a greater portion of us were single men. The captain of the ship asked us, as the ship would be a long time under repairs, whether any of us would be willing to travel overland—150 miles down to Newport. We all expressed our willingness. He said he would write to the Mayor of the town to forward us through the country, so that we could get billeted on our way in the different towns as invalid soldiers. As the snow was very severe, it prevented us from travelling any more than thirty miles per day. In various parts of the country the snow lay knee deep on the ground. When we could not reach a town we were obliged to put up with the inconveniences of staying at some farm house for the night. It took us fifteen days to reach Newport. We went from there to Bristol in fishing smacks. We went to the recruiting depot and remained there for about three days. We were paid up all our back pay and marching pay through Wales, and two pence per mile to the place of attestment on joining the British army. I was attested at Hythe, in Kent—186 miles from Bristol. After receiving all money due to me, I was at liberty to go where I pleased, being once more my own master. I went home to Frome, in Somersetshire—twenty-four miles from Bristol—and there I remained with my friends during the greater part of the winter. In the Spring following I left my friends and proceeded to London. I got employment there as a bricklayers’ laborer, and at various times as a stonemasons’ laborer. I engaged with a gentleman of the name of Broadhead, who resided in Cadogan Place, Sloane Street, Chelsea, with whom I stayed for some considerable time. Buckingham Palace, where his royal highness the Duke of York resided, I assisted in making the alterations—in taking down a wall, and putting up iron palisadings, which extended from the gate of St. James’s Park up to the Duke of Leinster’s. After that work was completed I went to Windsor Castle—twenty-one miles from London—and also worked at the Castle, which, at that time, was undergoing repairs. During the winter season, his majesty would reside in the Park. He used to drive into the Castle at various times, generally before our dinner-time, to inspect the works going on the Castle. Our employment was not very severe; our wages were very low, being only thirteen shillings per week for laboring men; tradesmen of different descriptions at twenty-four shillings per week. After the alterations, which lasted about twelve months, I returned to London, and got into employment with my old employer. I proceeded to St. Catherine’s docks, and was working there as a navvy; I was one of the first six employed in taking in the leaden gutters from the roof of St. Catherine’s Church; where the church formerly stood is, now, as near as I can say, the centre part of the Company’s docks. Mr. Burgess was the first contractor, and after his failure, Mr. Robert Banks, of Blackwall, took up the contract. At various times I used to leave the work in order to attain better employment, if possible. I went to the London Bridge pile-driving before a stone was laid; we worked shifts six hours per day, and six hours per night; the night-work was very severe, and we had to be very careful not to touch any drink, on account of the danger of the work, especially in the lower dams. We generally used to drive one pile every six hours, each pile being twenty-three feet long, for which we got paid at the rate of one shilling and three half-pennies per foot; that had to be divided amongst four of us, who worked at the crane. It was very dangerous working in the lower dams, as we had only two nine-inch planks to walk upon, and about every ten feet there was an upright, with a rope attached to it, to enable us to descend to the bottom in safety. During the time of my working there I saw many men meet with their deaths by falling over.

I began to grow tired owing to the disagreeable employment. I went one hundred and fifty miles from London to Stonehouse, near Plymouth, were there was a new reservoir to be excavated. I got employment there. I worked at it until it was completed, which was in about six months. I then returned to London, where I got employed by Mr. Grundy, stonemason, Horseferry-road, he having a contract under Government for some stone work at the New Parliament Houses. I worked for him up to the year 1826. His Royal Highness the Duke of York died in the month of December in that year, and lay in state for three weeks at Buckingham Palace. The public were admitted to see the remains. He was taken in January, 1827, to Windsor Castle to be interred with the rest of the Royal Family. The funeral cortege extended 10 miles from Hyde Park corner to Hounslow. The corpse was moved on as follows to Stanford Bridge, three miles from Hounslow. I witnessed the Life Guards, cloaked up, standing holding their horses under the bridge, waiting for orders to take possession of the corpse from the Oxford Blues. The corpse remained two hours owing to the severity of the weather, it snowing heavily all the time they were proceeding from London. After the two hours had elapsed they pushed forward eight miles further to Windsor. I did not witness anything more, but returned to London; during that day going and returning in all 26 miles.

I went a few miles from London, as I heard that there were men wanted at Old Forge-cut, Stratford, to form a basis for barges to come in and unload from the Thames. I worked in and there about as a general laborer at anything I could turn my hand to up to the year 1830, when I heard there were men wanted at Chatham to go out to the Brazils; but when I reached Chatham, I went to the parties who were enquiring for men. When I entered the room, I asked particulars as to what we might be required for. They told me that I was to go out to the Brazils or elsewhere. I told them it was to fight for Donna Maria, the young Queen of Portugal. They observed that I had been in the British army, and they told me that it was correct what I had stated; they said they would allow me more pay, but I was to keep my own counsel; they also told me that if I could obtain any men for them they would make me an allowance of so much for each man. The men whom I engaged I used to tell that they would all be made officers and gentlemen of. After we had mustered about 200 men, we were despatched off to London, in which place we took our residence on the Isle of Dogs, opposite to the Greenwich Hospital, where we lay for further orders. We understood there was a troop barque ship fitting up in the river in order to take us out to Portugal. We had first rate rations served out to us daily, and the balance of our pay paid to us every afternoon. We amused ourselves daily by walking up and down the river side like half-pay officers. After laying there for about a month, the Government learned that we were there for the purpose of going out to Portugal, we were given to understand that we had a good many deserters from the British Army who had deserted on purpose to join us, as our pay was more than they were getting in the British service by sixpence a day. We were not attested men, as we were going out as volunteers. The Government sent the police down to despatch us from the Isle of Dogs, so we were all sent about our business. I was going about London some few weeks; as the winter was approaching I could not get any employment. I was several nights that I had no shelter, having to walk the streets all night, and sometimes nothing whatever in the shape of food. Sometimes I heard there was a place erected for the poor to shelter themselves from the inclemency of the weather. I went to one of these places, where I obtained shelter as well as some food, consisting of a bit of bread and cheese, with a half-pint of cold ale to drink with it. It reminded me something of a rendezvous, with a bit of straw to lay on, and an old covering to keep you warm. I had several times a mind to return back again to Frome to my friends, but I took a second consideration on the subject as the winter was approaching I thought I would take pot luck for it to remain in London till something might turn up. One day I was going over Westminster Bridge to go to some of my old employers in Westminster to see if I could get any work. In passing over the bridge I met with two gentlemen; they made hold to stop me. They asked me if I was not one of the men that was going out to Portugal. I told them that I was one of them, he gave me a half-crown, and told me to meet him at the same place on the following day. Accordingly I proceeded on after wishing them good bye. I went into a leg of beef soup shop to get a feed, and I took a famous good tightener. I had enough left out of my half-crown to pay for my bed and my breakfast in the morning. I thought I was once more all right. According to the orders I had received from the two gentlemen I met them on the bridge according to appointment. They told me that they were going to erect another establishment in Great Windmill street, at the top of the Haymarket, and would I come to get my name enrolled. I told them I would. Accordingly they gave me another half-crown, so I then considered I was a made up gentleman. All at once I went at the time appointed to Great Windmill street. There I found that I had been correctly informed by the gentlemen. I went into the apartment where several gentlemen were. They took my name down, and told me they were very glad to see me as I was a Waterloo man. I had my pay given out to me at the rate of 1s. 6d. per day, and to attend each day at eleven o’clock in the forenoon. In the course of a fortnight we collected about 200 men. On going there the last day to receive our pay as usual, when we had orders to attend all hands at 4 o’clock in the evening. About dusk after we all mustered we were drafted off in different parties under the care of a steady man to each party to convey us down to Vauxhall. There we were put in different barges to float down during the night to Gravesend. On our way down there was bread and cheese served out, but as I had taken a good feed throughout, I thought I did not require any as I had a comfortable seat on the starboard side of the boat I thought if I got up to look after bread and cheese I should not find my seat again. We arrived off Gravesend at 2 or 3 o’clock in the morning, when we were all put on board of a troop barque. We had orders to all keep below in the day time and to come up at night when we could walk about all night if we chose. We lay there 2 days and part of 2 nights, when we weighed anchor and made for the downs.

We passed through the Downs with the whole of his Majesty (George IV.’s) fleet present that day in the Deal Downs, in two nights and one day. Owing to the weather being very severe, we came in sight of Spithead. We dropped anchor, and lay till further orders. After lying there two days, we weighed anchor and proceeded on our destination. On the 20th November we set sail, and arrived off Flushing on the 23rd December. We lay in Brest, part of the township of Flushing; took Christmas dinner on the 25th; and, on the 26th, we had a grand “spree”—“Sheevo,” we call it; we had lots of fiddling and dancing. On the 27th we weighed anchor to depart from that place. As we were about making our way, there were two Dutch gunboats placed alongside of us to prevent our landing or moving without leave, as they believed we were spies. The Belgians were at war at this time (1830). There was a letter sent from the captain of the ship to the commandant of the town, to inform him that we were British subjects going out to fight for the young Queen Donna Maria, Queen of Portugal. An answer came from the commandant to the captain of the said Edward, barque, troop-ship, that we might go out of the river, which we did, and put round to the bay of Belle Isle, in the South of France, where the whole of the squadron lay at anchorage. The admiral, on the quarter-deck, called out, “Ship a-hoy;” on the third day after our coming out of the river he wished to know what ship it was; the reply was given that it was the Edward, barque, troop-ship. He asked how many men on board; the reply was, 199. He said, “Why not bring another man to make up 200?” We shortly afterwards heaved up alongside the Reine de Portugal, which was the Admiral’s ship. We went on board, fifty of us, to do duty as marines; fifty went on board of the Congress, man-of-war; fifty on board of the Donna Maria, and forty-nine on the Juno. We lay at anchor in the Bay of Belle Isle, as did the whole of the squadron, brigs, schooners and corvettes, all sorts of twenty-gun brigs, &c. Our paymaster came out from home to pay us some back money due to us, and, when we got our two months’ pay, all our British subjects of blue jackets and marines had leave for forty-eight hours to go on shore. Five of my mess-mates and myself went into a brandy shop to “wet our whistles,” where we drank half-a-dozen bottles of brandy; and then proceeded up the town to see what was going on. We called in to take a little drop more, as we fancied we stood very much in need of it, when the gens d’armes, discovering us rolling about, rolled up towards us; thought of taking us into custody, but, as we were not so easily frightened, we set on them and knocked them both up and down; and down it was with many a one. They called a French regiment out of barracks to quiet us, but we set to and beat them back into the barracks. The Commandant of the town sent a letter to the Admiral of the ship for them to bring the marines and seamen on board; but the Admiral would not hear of any such thing; he said he had given them leave for forty-eight hours to spend their money, and they were not to be molested either by the soldiers or the gens d’armes, unless they were outrageous to the inhabitants of the town; and, if he did not like that, he would call them all in and pour a broadside on the town. After that they let us alone, and we were masters of the town. When our leave was up we went to the different boats to put off to our respective ships. Major Lanson was on the gangway, looking over into the boats, when I was coming up the side; he called out, “What kind of a spree, soldier, had you on shore?” I said, “A pretty gone one, sir. We should have had a better one if we had not been molested by the gens d’armes and the soldiers.” He said, “It was all fair to get rid of your money; you will have another one by-and-bye.” I replied, “Yes, sir; and you along with me on the field of battle.” After a few days we cruised off the Island of Madeira. We fell in company one day with a man-of-war up to the starboard side of the vessel, and a twenty-gun brig on the larboard. The Admiral called out to the gunner, “Get the Salamanders ready.” They were accordingly put into the blacksmith’s hands to put them into the fire, and get them ready for action. Accordingly we sailed in midships, the twenty gun brig on the larboard and a man-of-war on the starboard. The drum beat to arms. For my own part I was not fond of going aloft; I got into the long boat over the main hatch, and there I remained till further orders. The Admiral called out to the gunner to fire No. 6 gun on the starboard side of the man-of-war, but she never returned a shot. A shot from No. 6 gun was fired at the brig from the larboard quarter, but she did not return the compliment. The two boats were lowered, the pinnace and the long boat, and a portion of blue jackets and marines jumped into it, under the instructions of an officer of each boat, and went off to the man-of-war and to the gun brig. The man-of-war on the starboard was a French vessel, and, we were not at war with France at this time; so we let her go, as we were bound down to keep the peace twenty-one years after the battle of Waterloo, and only fifteen years had elapsed. But the brig on the larboard was a prize, loaded with arms and ammunition going out to Don Miguel’s party; she was brought in and towed aft of the Admiral’s ship; the men were brought on board and put into irons, and also the captain of the ship, whom I witnessed on his knees on the quarter-deck, praying forgiveness; he agreed to do duty on board the Reine de Portugal, the Admiral’s ship; the seamen were allowed to work on board the Reine, according to their respective abilities. They were well contented to go into the Queen’s service under the control of Admiral Sartonis. Some time after, while cruising off the Island of Madeira, we fell in company with a privateer, and gave chase to her: for part of two nights and a day we just kept in sight of her, until the sea rose, and in the storm, on the evening of the third day, we lost sight of her. At this time I was mixing the grog with my brother, who was a non-commissioned officer. As the grog was issued out a very heavy squall came over, and, the ports being all open, we shipped water very fast. Before the guns could be got in and the ports shut we were shipping water at the rate of a ton per minute. The carpenter being down in the hold, called out that the water was gaining on us; the Portuguese pilot on board told the Admiral that he had better lighten the ship by throwing over some of the guns, as there was every probability of the ship sinking before morning. The Admiral was very angry with the pilot for saying so, and told him that we were all British subjects on board, and in no way frightened.

During the watch from eight to twelve I could scarcely keep my legs to go round and put the men on sentry. There was one man who gave me a great deal of trouble to put him into the nettings to keep a look-out for ships for one hour. I was keenly running after him on the main deck, when my foot struck against a ring bolt, which had the effect of precipitating me into the gun-deck, a distance of nearly ten feet. I was very much hurt; I was taken up, and had sixteen ounces of blood let from me. But I was not fit for duty for three or four days. However, as soon as I was on my first night watch, I caught the man who caused my misfortune, and had the satisfaction of giving him four hours in the nettings. At twelve o’clock the watch accompanied me round the decks again, when we released the man in the nettings, and the watch went below. Shortly after I got below there was an order for Corporal Knight to appear on deck, to which I immediately responded. The officer of the watch asked me why I kept the man for four hours in the nettings. I replied that I preferred that way of punishing him to reporting him and perhaps getting him flogged; also that I considered him the cause of my getting hurt by falling down the hatchway. He objected, and said that I ought at once to have reported the disobedience. He asked me how I came to put him there for four hours. I told him I had put him there for my own pleasure, as he was the cause of my having the fall. I said, “Sir, I did not wish to make a report to the Admiral, to cause him to be brought on the gratings. I would not have the ill-will of the ship’s company to say I was the cause of a man’s being flogged.” “Put him four hours more for my pleasure,” said he; “and give him the early watch from 12 p.m. till 4 a.m.”

After we had cruised for some time about the Island of Terceira, we put in at Nangaros, a seaport town, and landed the marines on shore. We marched to Prior, three leagues (nine miles), and took up our position in a convent, and did duty till further orders. We usually turned out at half-past four in the morning, before the great heat of the day came on, and marched on to the common, where we used to go through our discipline. We drilled the awkward hands of the recruits about two hours each morning, and generally returned about seven for breakfast. We had nothing to do until the following morning. Our parading duty was very moderate.

Our rations were “Buckelow salt fish,” and cob corn bread. But we did not understand this kind of food; so the men lifted up the windows and threw the provisions in the road: they had got into a rebellious state. The colonel, being informed of it, came down to the Convent, and ordered the bugler of the guard to sound, “Turn out the whole.” We formed companies; the colonel ordered the captains of companies to form a solid square, the colonel being inside. He said that owing to our rude character he would punish us. As soon as the word had passed by him, the men called out, one and all, that “they were not men sworn in like British subjects, but that they came out as volunteers to fight for the Queen of Portugal, and expected they should be treated like soldiers.” All through the battalion, one and all shouted, “Hear, hear.” The colonel replied, “Well, my men, I consider you are loyal subjects;” and intimated that it was no wish of his that the men should live in that way; and if we would put up with it for a few days he would write to the Admiral to send us ship rations, as there was nothing on the island that we could discover. In a short time, beef, pork, and biscuits were sent from the squadron, so then we lived very well. There was plenty of wine on the island, of which each man had a pint a day, and a gill of aquadent. We used to follow on then with a good heart to parade, as usual, and go through our discipline. We carried that on for two months, when Don Pedro came on the island, with a portion of his staff, to view the British battalion. When we went through our movements on a field-day he was quite delighted. Soon after, we had orders to march back to the respective Convents where we lay. The colonel ordered the battalion to get an extra allowance that day.

The paymaster came from out from home to pay us some back money that was owing to us, so that there was a captain of each company to go down to the paymaster’s residence to give in the strength of the company; and I being very intimate with the captain, whose name was Shaw, he told me to bring two men with me up to the captain’s quarters, and from there we removed off to the paymaster’s residence. The captain had orders from the paymaster to take one bag of dollars—out of ten. Our pay at this time was two pounds five shillings per month; he ordered me to name the men to pack up the dollars, and bring them on with them; I named one of the men to lift them, who said they were so heavy he could not get them on his shoulder; I said to the next man, “You try them,” and he could not lift them. The captain said, “Hey, mon, what, canna twa strong able men like you lift them small bags of dollars up?” He then said, “Knight, you try them;” I caught hold of them, and had very great difficulty in getting them on my shoulder, so the captain told me to proceed with them. I carried them about two hundred yards, and put them on a wall off my shoulder. “Now,” I said, “you carry them in your turns, each of you, but mind and put them so as another can get them.” So they brought them into the captain’s quarters, and, by the captain’s orders, put them off their shoulders in the captain’s apartment, when he said, “That will do, you can go to your convent.” I was going along with them, and he said, “Stop, Knight;” so I stopped with the captain, and fell into some conversation with him about the British service of Waterloo, etc. He belonged to the same brigade with me; I did not know him at the time; I formerly belonged to the ninety-fifth rifles, and he was in the fifty-second light infantry. After some short time, I asked him when he was going to serve the companies’ money out; he replied not before Monday, as it was Saturday when he got the money from the paymaster; he said, if he was to serve the money out, he should not have a soldier of his company out on parade, as the colonel used to read the service on Sundays at the drum head. I said, “Very well, sir,” and was about making my departure when he called me back, and said, “Here are two dollars for you, keep your own counsel; if the sergeant of the company should ask you any questions as to when the captain was going to serve out the pay, tell them on Monday, for, if he served it out to-day, he would not get any man to attend church parade.”

As I was going through the town, after leaving the captain’s residence, I called into a wine shop and drank a glass of wine; when I arrived at the convent, the sergeant of the companies came about me to know when the captain was going to serve out the pay; I said he had given me instructions to inform them it would be on Monday; so they rested in quiet and contentment. In the afternoon the bugler sounded the non-commissioned officers’ call, and the sergeants of companies had orders to go to the quarter-master’s stores, and to bring the ornaments from the stores to the different companies. The sergeant of the company I belonged to, which was the light company, brought green wings to put on the jackets, and also the grenadiers with white wings, and the other eight battalion companies brought small brass plates, of a horseshoe shape; I did not know much about wings in those days, although belonging to the rifles, but we all had to appear on church parade with our different ornaments on the shoulders of our jackets, so the tailors of the different companies were ordered to get them on as quickly as they could, or any handy men that could use their needle. I had not been used to any such thing in the rifles, and I said to a man in the grenadiers, that if he would comb my wings out, and dress them nicely, I would pay him well for it. As I knew him I took him down into the town and gave him a glass of wine; we seldom had a glass of wine without having the full measure, which was a pint, for three halfpence—he was very thankful. I said, “I will give you a quarter of a dollar if you will dress them nicely.” He replied that he would; I remarked, I “may as well pay you while I am here.” I expected to have found my jacket in the morning in the place where I usually hang it up, on a peg over my bed, but when I took my jacket down in the morning to clean it to go on parade, I found the wings as rough as they were when they were served out. The scamp had got drunk, and neglected combing my wings out, and the only part of my dress looking bad on account of the wings being rough and not combed out; I thought I would have two or three extra guards given me that day, as the colonel used to inspect the battalion when the line had to be formed, for the rear rank to step back two paces for inspection order by the colonel. At the very last minute or two, in turning out, I wetted a brush to lay the nap down, and went on parade; I was the right hand man in the light company. The captain came on parade to inspect the company; he looked at my wings, but said nothing. The colonel came on parade, and he called out for the battalion to form line; after we had formed line, he called out for rear rank inspection order, and then came over to inspect the light company. He looked very hard at me at the time, I was alarmed about my wings looking so ill; I said to myself, “I will get two or three extra guards.” The colonel asked the captain, “What kind of a soldier is this on the right of your company?” The captain gave me an excellent character, and the colonel replied that he had often witnessed me coming through the town, and that I had paid him all military honours. He added, “I appoint him as corporal;” so, in the room of getting two or three extra guards, as I thought I should, I was lucky enough to get made full corporal. On church parade, after the services had been preached by the colonel, he dismissed the battalion, and we went into our respective quarters. In the afternoon, the companies’ call was sounded for sergeants of each company to go to the order room to receive orders. In bringing the orders from the orderly room, the sergeant came into my room and said to his brother sergeant, “Who do you think is made corporal of our company to-day?” he could not tell; the other said, “Thomas Knight.” “Well,” he said, “a man very well fitted for it, and well disciplined in the service, and also bears a good name and excellent character.” I went to the tailor’s shop to get the stripes on, it was the Monday morning following—after I had got my stripes on, I went to parade as usual. Shortly after that, we had orders to march to Nangaros, a seaport town in the Western Islands, and to embark on board of a squadron. All the soldiers, according to the different positions they were in, took up their former position under the care of their officers. Captain Charles Shaw, of my company, acquainted me that we were expecting to land at St. Michael’s, to go through a field-day along with the other regiments. Accordingly, we all landed, and went through a field-day there. The British were very much noticed that day by the inhabitants of the town.