Memoirs of the Late War, Vol 1 (of 2): Comprising the Personal Narrative of Captain Cooke, of the 43rd Regiment Light Infantry; the History of the Campaign of 1809 in Portugal, by the Earl of Munster; and a Narrative of the Campaign of 1814 in Holland, by Lieut. T. W. D. Moodie, H. P. 21st FusileersCooke, John Henry, Sir
History
Memoirs of the Late War, Vol 1 (of 2): Comprising the Personal Narrative of Captain Cooke, of the 43rd Regiment Light Infantry; the History of the Campaign of 1809 in Portugal, by the Earl of Munster; and a Narrative of the Campaign of 1814 in Holland, by Lieut. T. W. D. Moodie, H. P. 21st Fusileers
Cooke, John Henry, Sir
Europe -- History -- 1789-1815
In the spring we shifted our quarters to Colchester, being perfectly
sickened of our rustic amusements of shooting larks, skating, or pacing
up and down a solitary barrack-square of great extent, and surrounded
by a rich grass country, without any thing worthy the appellation of a
village for a considerable distance.
Soon afterwards myself and another officer went to Portsmouth to
receive volunteers. The officers of a regiment invited us to dine with
them at Gosport, and so plied us with peppered turkeys' legs, devilled
biscuits and port wine, that we were unable to beat a retreat until
two o'clock in the morning. On reaching the ferry, there was not a
boat to be seen; wherefore, from necessity, we were reduced to content
ourselves with a seat on some stone steps, and there to await the
rising sun, whose beams no sooner crimsoned the western hemisphere,
than we hailed the first morning ferry boat, and reached our lodging,
right glad to quaff a smoking cup of coffee in order to settle our
stomachs from the last night's debauch. In a few days we left the
rustic vicinity of Portsmouth, and reached the red-bricked town of
Colchester, where our time passed in such amusements as are usually
practised at a provincial quarter and are so well known to most of the
British army, who have had the honor of promenading up and down its
_pavé_.
One day a water party was talked of, and no sooner proposed than put
into execution. A boat was procured and rowers selected—the rest of
the party being armed with fowling pieces for the destruction of gulls
and carrion crows, or such other birds as might chance to cross us
during our acquatic excursion on the river Colne. The boat being put
in motion, after an hour's hard pull, the river became considerably
wider, the tide was on the ebb, the weather propitious, and so much
way made, that we resolved to obtain a glimpse of the sea, which soon
being accomplished, we pulled in shore, made good our landing, and
selected the most rural spot to partake of those viands prepared for
the occasion, which, being spread out on nature's green carpet, were
speedily devoured by eight hungry young officers, and every bottle
of wine and brown stout emptied to the very dregs. The party, full
of hilarity, then returned to their slender bark; but great was our
surprise to find it high and dry, the tide nearly out, and only a
narrow stream remaining of the spacious Colne water we had quitted a
few hours before. A launch being necessary, our jackets and caps were
hurled into the boat, and, by the most strenuous exertions, it was
shoved through the mud, and again afloat; then rapidly plying our oars,
we made some progress, notwithstanding that the tide was still running
out; when at length the water entirely failed, leaving us aground,
amid channel, with extensive banks of mud rising to a considerable
height on each side of us,—the sight of which afforded much mirth
at the idea of our having rowed during high tide over hill and dale;
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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