Great Britain. Army. Regiment of Foot, 95th; Kincaid, J. (John), 1787-1862; Peninsular War, 1807-1814 -- Personal narratives, British
A council was now called to determine the proper mode of further
proceeding, when it was moved and carried that a vote of censure be
passed upon the executors for having failed to fulfil the provisions of
the laird's will, for in place of being drunk, as they ought to have
been, they were all shamefully sober; secondly, that it was in vain
to repeat the attempt to bury him until the conditions upon which he
died were complied with, for he had pledged himself not to rest quiet
in his grave if it was neglected, and it was evident from what he had
already done that he was not to be humbugged, but would again slip
through their fingers unless justice was done to his memory, and it
was therefore finally resolved that the laird be carried back to his
own hall, there to lie in state until the terms of his testament were
confirmed and ratified beyond dispute.
Back, therefore, they went to Abbots-Haugh, and set themselves again
right honestly to work, as good and loyal vassals to obey their
master's last behests, and that they at length succeeded in laying the
restless spirit may be inferred from the fact that it was the afternoon
of the third day from that time before the party felt themselves in
a condition to renew the attempt to complete the ceremony; however
it was then done effectually, as for fear of accidents, and not to
lose sight of the coffin a second time, as many as there was room for
took post on the top of it, provided with the means of finishing, at
their destination, what the defunct might have considered underdone
on their departure. And accordingly when they had at last succeeded
in depositing the coffin within the family vault, and had set the
bricklayers to work, they renewed their revels in the church-yard,
until they finally saw the tomb closed over one of the most eccentric
characters that ever went into it.
I shall now take leave of tales, and recommence the narration of
passing events by mentioning that while we remained at Valle, one of
our officers made an amusing attempt to get up a pack of hounds. He
offered a dollar a head for anything in the shape of a dog that might
be brought to him, which in a very short time furnished his kennel
with about fifteen couple, composed of poodles, sheep-dogs, curs, and
every species but the one that was wanted. When their numbers became
sufficiently formidable to justify the hope that there might be a few
noses in the crowd gifted with the sense of smelling something more
game than their porridge-pots; the essay was made, but they proved a
most ungrateful pack, for they were no sooner at liberty than every one
went howling away to his own home as if a tin kettle had been tied to
his tail. (A prophetic sort of feeling of what would inevitably have
befallen him had he remained a short time longer.)
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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