Memoirs of the Late War, Vol 2 (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 2 (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
boxing the ears of their men in the ranks, who seemed to bear this
treatment with the greatest patience, and without turning their eyes
to the right or left during the operation; but such is the effect of
early habits and custom, that the very men who bore this degrading
treatment, seemed to feel the same disgust for our military punishment
of flogging; which, however degrading in its effects on the character
of the sufferer, could not at least be inflicted at the caprice of the
individual. We may here observe the different effects produced on the
character of men by a free and a despotic system of Government: it was
evidently not the _nature_, but the _degree_, of punishment in our
service which shocked the Russian prejudices.
We had all become thoroughly sick of the monotony and sameness of our
duties and occupations at Tholen, when we received orders to march the
next day, (8th March, 1814). As the attack on Bergen-op-Zoom, which
took place on that evening, was of course kept a profound secret, the
common opinion was, that we were destined for Antwerp, where the other
division of the army had already had some fighting. Though elated,
in common with my brother officers, with the prospect of coming to
closer quarters with the enemy, it was not without tears on both sides
that I parted with poor Johanna, who had somehow taken a hold of my
affections that I was hardly aware of till this moment. The time left
us to prepare for our march I devoted to her, and she did not even seek
the pretext of her English grammar to remain in my room for the few
hours we could yet enjoy together. We had marched some miles before I
could think of any thing but her, for the recollection of her tears
still thrilled to my very heart, and occasioned a stifling sensation
that almost deprived me of utterance. But we were soon thrown into a
situation where the excitement was too powerful and engrossing to leave
room for other thoughts than of what we were immediately engaged in.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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