CHAPTER IV. IN WHICH BARRY TAKES A NEAR VIEW OF MILITARY GLORY
I never had a taste for anything but genteel company, and hate alldescriptions of low life. Hence my account of the society in which Iat present found myself must of necessity be short; and, indeed,the recollection of it is profoundly disagreeable to me. Pah! thereminiscences of the horrid black-hole of a place in which we soldierswere confined; of the wretched creatures with whom I was now forced tokeep company; of the ploughmen, poachers, pickpockets, who had takenrefuge from poverty, or the law (as, in truth, I had done myself), isenough to make me ashamed even now, and it calls the blush into my oldcheeks to think I was ever forced to keep such company. I should havefallen into despair, but that, luckily, events occurred to rouse myspirits, and in some measure to console me for my misfortunes.
The first of these consolations I had was a good quarrel, which tookplace on the day after my entrance into the transport-ship, with a hugered-haired monster of a fellow--a chairman, who had enlisted to fly froma vixen of a wife, who, boxer as he was, had been more than a match forhim. As soon as this fellow--Toole, I remember, was his name--got awayfrom the arms of the washerwoman his lady, his natural courage andferocity returned, and he became the tyrant of all round about him.All recruits, especially, were the object of the brute's insult andill-treatment.
I had no money, as I said, and was sitting very disconsolately over aplatter of rancid bacon and mouldy biscuit, which was served to us atmess, when it came to my turn to be helped to drink, and I was served,like the rest, with a dirty tin noggin, containing somewhat more thanhalf a pint of rum-and-water. The beaker was so greasy and filthy that Icould not help turning round to the messman and saying, 'Fellow, get mea glass!' At which all the wretches round about me burst into a roar oflaughter, the very loudest among them being, of course, Mr. Toole.'Get the gentleman a towel for his hands, and serve him a basin ofturtle-soup,' roared the monster, who was sitting, or rather squatting,on the deck opposite me; and as he spoke he suddenly seized my beaker ofgrog and emptied it, in the midst of another burst of applause.
'If you want to vex him, ax him about his wife the washerwoman, whoBATES him,' here whispered in my ear another worthy, a retired link-boy,who, disgusted with his profession, had adopted the military life.
'Is it a towel of your wife's washing, Mr. Toole?' said I. 'I'm told shewiped your face often with one.'
'Ax him why he wouldn't see her yesterday, when she came to the ship,'continued the link-boy. And so I put to him some other foolish jokesabout soapsuds, henpecking, and flat-irons, which set the man into afury, and succeeded in raising a quarrel between us. We should havefallen to at once, but a couple of grinning marines, who kept watch atthe door, for fear we should repent of our bargain and have a fancy toescape, came forward and interposed between us with fixed bayonets;but the sergeant coming down the ladder, and hearing the dispute,condescended to say that we might fight it out like men with FISTES ifwe chose, and that the fore-deck should be free to us for that purpose.But the use of fistes, as the Englishman called them, was not thengeneral in Ireland, and it was agreed that we should have a pairof cudgels; with one of which weapons I finished the fellow in fourminutes, giving him a thump across his stupid sconce which laidhim lifeless on the deck, and not receiving myself a single hurt ofconsequence.
This victory over the cock of the vile dunghill obtained me respectamong the wretches of whom I formed part, and served to set up myspirits, which otherwise were flagging; and my position was speedilymade more bearable by the arrival on board our ship of an old friend.This was no other than my second in the fatal duel which had sent methus early out into the world, Captain Fagan. There was a young noblemanwho had a company in our regiment (Gale's foot), and who, preferring thedelights of the Mall and the clubs to the dangers of a rough campaign,had given Fagan the opportunity of an exchange; which, as the latter hadno fortune but his sword, he was glad to make. The sergeant wasputting us through our exercise on deck (the seamen and officers of thetransport looking grinning on) when a boat came from the shore bringingour captain to the ship; and though I started and blushed red as herecognised me--a descendant of the Barrys--in this degrading posture, Ipromise you that the sight of Fagan's face was most welcome to me, forit assured me that a friend was near me. Before that I was so melancholythat I would certainly have deserted had I found the means, and had notthe inevitable marines kept a watch to prevent any such escapes.Fagan gave me a wink of recognition, but offered no public token ofacquaintance; it was not until two days afterwards, and when we hadbidden adieu to old Ireland and were standing out to sea, that he calledme into his cabin, and then, shaking hands with me cordially, gave menews, which I much wanted, of my family. 'I had news of you in Dublin,'he said. ''Faith you've begun early, like your father's son; and I thinkyou could not do better than as you have done. But why did you not writehome to your poor mother? She has sent a half-dozen letters to you atDublin.'
I said I had asked for letters at the post-office, but there were nonefor Mr. Redmond. I did not like to add that I had been ashamed, afterthe first week, to write to my mother.
'We must write to her by the pilot,' said he, 'who will leave us intwo hours; and you can tell her that you are safe, and married to BrownBess.' I sighed when he talked about being married; on which he saidwith a laugh, 'I see you are thinking of a certain young lady at Brady'sTown.'
'Is Miss Brady well?' said I; and indeed, could hardly utter it, for Icertainly WAS thinking about her: for, though I had forgotten her inthe gaieties of Dublin, I have always found adversity makes man veryaffectionate.
'There's only seven Miss Bradys now,' answered Fagan, in a solemn voice.'Poor Nora'--
'Good heavens! what of her?' I thought grief had killed her.
'She took on so at your going away that she was obliged to consoleherself with a husband. She's now Mrs. John Quin.'
'Mrs. John Quin! Was there ANOTHER Mr. John Quin?' asked I, quitewonder-stricken.
'No; the very same one, my boy. He recovered from his wound. The ballyou hit him with was not likely to hurt him. It was only made of tow.Do you think the Bradys would let you kill fifteen hundred a year out ofthe family?' And then Fagan further told me that, in order to get me outof the way--for the cowardly Englishman could never be brought to marryfrom fear of me--the plan of the duel had been arranged. 'But hit himyou certainly did, Redmond, and with a fine thick plugget of tow; andthe fellow was so frightened, that he was an hour in coming to. Wetold your mother the story afterwards, and a pretty scene she made; shedespatched a half-score of letters to Dublin after you, but I supposeaddressed them to you in your real name, by which you never thought toask for them.'
'The coward!' said I (though, I confess, my mind was considerablyrelieved at the thoughts of not having killed him). 'And did the Bradysof Castle Brady consent to admit a poltroon like that into one of themost ancient and honourable families in the world?'
'He has paid off your uncle's mortgage,' said Fagan; 'he gives Noraa coach-and-six; he is to sell out, and Lieutenant Ulick Brady of theMilitia is to purchase his company. That coward of a fellow has been themaking of your uncle's family. 'Faith! the business was well done.' Andthen, laughing, he told me how Mick and Ulick had never let him outof their sight, although he was for deserting to England, until themarriage was completed and the happy couple off on their road to Dublin.'Are you in want of cash, my boy?' continued the good-natured Captain.'You may draw upon me, for I got a couple of hundred out of Master Quinfor my share, and while they last you shall never want.'
And so he bade me sit down and write a letter to my mother, which I didforthwith in very sincere and repentant terms, stating that I had beenguilty of extravagances, that I had not known until that moment underwhat a fatal error I had been labouring, and that I had embarked forGermany as a volunteer. The letter was scarcely finished when the pilotsang out that he was going on shore; and he departed, taking with him,from many an anxious fellow besides myself, our adi
eux to friends in oldIreland.
Although I was called Captain Barry for many years of my life, and havebeen known as such by the first people of Europe, yet I may as wellconfess I had no more claim to the title than many a gentleman whoassumes it, and never had a right to an epaulet, or to any militarydecoration higher than a corporal's stripe of worsted. I was madecorporal by Fagan during our voyage to the Elbe, and my rank wasconfirmed on TERRA FIRMA. I was promised a halbert, too, and afterwards,perhaps, an ensigncy, if I distinguished myself; but Fate did not intendthat I should remain long an English soldier: as shall appear presently.Meanwhile, our passage was very favourable; my adventures were toldby Fagan to his brother officers, who treated me with kindness; and myvictory over the big chairman procured me respect from my comrades ofthe fore-deck. Encouraged and strongly exhorted by Fagan, I did my dutyresolutely; but, though affable and good-humoured with the men, I neverat first condescended to associate with such low fellows: and, indeed,was called generally amongst them 'my Lord.' I believe it was theex-link-boy, a facetious knave, who gave me the title; and I felt that Ishould become such a rank as well as any peer in the kingdom.
It would require a greater philosopher and historian than I am toexplain the causes of the famous Seven Years' War in which Europe wasengaged; and, indeed, its origin has always appeared to me to beso complicated, and the books written about it so amazingly hard tounderstand, that I have seldom been much wiser at the end of a chapterthan at the beginning, and so shall not trouble my reader with anypersonal disquisitions concerning the matter. All I know is, that afterHis Majesty's love of his Hanoverian dominions had rendered him mostunpopular in his English kingdom, with Mr. Pitt at the head of theanti-German war-party, all of a sudden, Mr. Pitt becoming Minister,the rest of the empire applauded the war as much as they had hated itbefore. The victories of Dettingen and Crefeld were in every-body'smouths, and 'the Protestant hero,' as we used to call the godless oldFrederick of Prussia, was adored by us as a saint, a very short timeafter we had been about to make war against him in alliance with theEmpress-queen. Now, somehow, we were on Frederick's side: the Empress,the French, the Swedes, and the Russians, were leagued against us; andI remember, when the news of the battle of Lissa came even to our remotequarter of Ireland, we considered it as a triumph for the cause ofProtestantism, and illuminated and bonfired, and had a sermon at church,and kept the Prussian king's birthday; on which my uncle would getdrunk: as indeed on any other occasion. Most of the low fellows enlistedwith myself were, of course, Papists (the English army was filled withsuch, out of that never-failing country of ours), and these, forsooth,were fighting the battles of Protestantism with Frederick; who wasbelabouring the Protestant Swedes and the Protestant Saxons, as well asthe Russians of the Greek Church, and the Papist troops of the Emperorand the King of France. It was against these latter that the Englishauxiliaries were employed, and we know that, be the quarrel what it may,an Englishman and a Frenchman are pretty willing to make a fight of it.
We landed at Cuxhaven, and before I had been a month in the ElectorateI was transformed into a tall and proper young soldier, and having anatural aptitude for military exercise, was soon as accomplished at thedrill as the oldest sergeant in the regiment. It is well, however, todream of glorious war in a snug arm-chair at home; ay, or to make it asan officer, surrounded by gentlemen, gorgeously dressed, and cheered bychances of promotion. But those chances do not shine on poor fellows inworsted lace: the rough texture of our red coats made me ashamed when Isaw an officer go by; my soul used to shudder when, on going the rounds,I would hear their voices as they sat jovially over the mess-table;my pride revolted at being obliged to plaster my hair with flour andcandle-grease, instead of using the proper pomatum for a gentleman.Yes, my tastes have always been high and fashionable, and I loathed thehorrid company in which I was fallen. What chances had I of promotion?None of my relatives had money to buy me a commission, and I became soonso low-spirited, that I longed for a general action and a ball to finishme, and vowed that I would take some opportunity to desert.
When I think that I, the descendant of the kings of Ireland, wasthreatened with a caning by a young scoundrel who had just joined fromEton College--when I think that he offered to make me his footman, andthat I did not, on either occasion, murder him! On the first occasion Iburst into tears (I do not care to own it) and had serious thoughts ofcommitting suicide, so great was my mortification. But my kind friendFagan came to my aid in the circumstance, with some very timelyconsolation. 'My poor boy,' said he, 'you must not take the matter toheart so. Caning is only a relative disgrace. Young Ensign Fakenham wasflogged himself at Eton School only a month ago: I would lay a wagerthat his scars are not yet healed. You must cheer up, my boy; do yourduty, be a gentleman, and no serious harm can fall on you.' And I heardafterwards that my champion had taken Mr. Fakenham very severely totask for this threat, and said to him that any such proceedings for thefuture he should consider as an insult to himself; whereon the youngensign was, for the moment, civil. As for the sergeants, I told one ofthem, that if any man struck me, no matter who he might be, or whatthe penalty, I would take his life. And, 'faith! there was an air ofsincerity in my speech which convinced the whole bevy of them; and aslong as I remained in the English service no rattan was ever laid on theshoulders of Redmond Barry. Indeed, I was in that savage moody state,that my mind was quite made up to the point, and I looked to hear my owndead march played as sure as I was alive. When I was made a corporal,some of my evils were lessened; I messed with the sergeants by specialfavour, and used to treat them to drink, and lose money to the rascalsat play: with which cash my good friend Mr. Fagan punctually suppliedme.
Our regiment, which was quartered about Stade and Luneburg, speedilygot orders to march southwards towards the Rhine, for news came that ourgreat General, Prince Ferdinand of Brunswick, had been defeated--no, notdefeated, but foiled in his attack upon the French under the Duke ofBroglio, at Bergen, near Frankfort-on-the-Main, and had been obliged tofall back. As the allies retreated the French rushed forward, and madea bold push for the Electorate of our gracious monarch in Hanover,threatening that they would occupy it; as they had done before, whenD'Estrees beat the hero of Culloden, the gallant Duke of Cumberland, andcaused him to sign the capitulation of Closter Zeven. An advance uponHanover always caused a great agitation in the Royal bosom of the Kingof England; more troops were sent to join us, convoys of treasure werepassed over to our forces, and to our ally's the King of Prussia; andalthough, in spite of all assistance, the army under Prince Ferdinandwas very much weaker than that of the invading enemy, yet we had theadvantage of better supplies, one of the greatest Generals in the world:and, I was going to add, of British valour, but the less we say aboutTHAT the better. My Lord George Sackville did not exactly cover himselfwith laurels at Minden; otherwise there might have been won there one ofthe greatest victories of modern times.
Throwing himself between the French and the interior of the Electorate,Prince Ferdinand wisely took possession of the free town of Bremen,which he made his storehouse and place of arms; and round which hegathered all his troops, making ready to fight the famous battle ofMinden.
Were these Memoirs not characterised by truth, and did I deign to uttera single word for which my own personal experience did not give me thefullest authority, I might easily make myself the hero of some strangeand popular adventures, and, after the fashion of novel-writers,introduce my reader to the great characters of this remarkable time.These persons (I mean the romance-writers), if they take a drummer ora dustman for a hero, somehow manage to bring him in contact withthe greatest lords and most notorious personages of the empire; andI warrant me there's not one of them but, in describing the battleof Minden, would manage to bring Prince Ferdinand, and my Lord GeorgeSackville, and my Lord Granby, into presence. It would have been easyfor me to have SAID I was present when the orders were brought to LordGeorge to charge with the cavalry and finish the rout of the Frenchmen,and when he refused to do so
, and thereby spoiled the great victory. Butthe fact is, I was two miles off from the cavalry when his Lordship'sfatal hesitation took place, and none of us soldiers of the line knew ofwhat had occurred until we came to talk about the fight over our kettlesin the evening, and repose after the labours of a hard-fought day. I sawno one of higher rank that day than my colonel and a couple of orderlyofficers riding by in the smoke--no one on our side, that is. A poorcorporal (as I then had the disgrace of being) is not generally invitedinto the company of commanders and the great; but, in revenge, I saw,I promise you, some very good company on the FRENCH part, for theirregiments of Lorraine and Royal Cravate were charging us all day; andin THAT sort of MELEE high and low are pretty equally received. I hatebragging, but I cannot help saying that I made a very close acquaintancewith the colonel of the Cravates; for I drove my bayonet into his body,and finished off a poor little ensign, so young, slender, and small,that a blow from my pigtail would have despatched him, I think, inplace of the butt of my musket, with which I clubbed him down. I killed,besides, four more officers and men, and in the poor ensign's pocketfound a purse of fourteen louis-d'or, and a silver box of sugar-plums;of which the former present was very agreeable to me. If people wouldtell their stories of battles in this simple way, I think the cause oftruth would not suffer by it. All I know of this famous fight of Minden(except from books) is told here above. The ensign's silver bon-bon boxand his purse of gold; the livid face of the poor fellow as he fell;the huzzas of the men of my company as I went out under a smart fireand rifled him; their shouts and curses as we came hand in hand with theFrenchmen,--these are, in truth, not very dignified recollections, andhad best be passed over briefly. When my kind friend Fagan was shot, abrother captain, and his very good friend, turned to Lieutenant Rawsonand said, 'Fagan's down; Rawson, there's your company.' It was all theepitaph my brave patron got. 'I should have left you a hundred guineas,Redmond,' were his last words to me, 'but for a cursed run of ill lucklast night at faro.' And he gave me a faint squeeze of the hand; then,as the word was given to advance, I left him. When we came back to ourold ground, which we presently did, he was lying there still; but hewas dead. Some of our people had already torn off his epaulets, and,no doubt, had rifled his purse. Such knaves and ruffians do men in warbecome! It is well for gentlemen to talk of the age of chivalry; butremember the starving brutes whom they lead--men nursed in poverty,entirely ignorant, made to take a pride in deeds of blood--men who canhave no amusement but in drunkenness, debauch, and plunder. It is withthese shocking instruments that your great warriors and kings have beendoing their murderous work in the world; and while, for instance, we areat the present moment admiring the 'Great Frederick,' as we call him,and his philosophy, and his liberality, and his military genius, I, whohave served him, and been, as it were, behind the scenes of which thatgreat spectacle is composed, can only look at it with horror. Whata number of items of human crime, misery, slavery, go to form thatsum-total of glory! I can recollect a certain day about three weeksafter the battle of Minden, and a farmhouse in which some of us entered;and how the old woman and her daughters served us, trembling, to wine;and how we got drunk over the wine, and the house was in a flame,presently; and woe betide the wretched fellow afterwards who came hometo look for his house and his children!