Recollections of the eventful life of a soldier — John Shaqi
Recollections of the eventful life of a soldierDonaldson, Joseph
History
Recollections of the eventful life of a soldier
Donaldson, Joseph
Peninsular War, 1807-1814 -- Personal narratives
Next day, having purchased some little things that I needed, I found
my money expended; but I gave myself little uneasiness about it,
as I had lent so much, and the following day was pay-day. When the
men received their pay, I spoke to those who had borrowed the money
from me, and said that I would be obliged to them for it; but how
was I surprised when some of them swore I had never lent them a
farthing, and threatened to beat me for presuming to say so! Others
said they could not pay me at that time; and more of them laughed at
my simplicity in expecting repayment of any money borrowed out of
a bounty! This is strange kind of justice, thought I; and leaving
the room, I wandered down by the sea side, thinking on the honest
men I had got amongst. I heard the step of some one behind me, and
turning round to see who it was, I perceived one of the recruits
who had joined some time before me. His name was Dennis ——: he was
an Irishman. I had remarked that he took no part with the others,
in their professions of kindness to me, and that on the night of
the spree he had gone to bed without joining in it. When he came
up to me, he said, ‘I have waited until now to speak to you, for I
would not say a word while the bounty lasted, lest you might suspect
that I was like the others; but now I have come to say that if you
choose you can be my comrade, for mine left me before you came to
the room, to go along with a recruit; and now, that his bounty is
finished, he wishes to come back again; but I hate such meanness, and
would never associate with a fellow of his description; however, I
think you and I will agree.’ I was glad to accept his disinterested
offer; and during all the time that Dennis and I were comrades, I
never had reason to repent it; for he was of a warm-hearted generous
disposition, and never flinched from me in distress. He had no
education: he could neither read nor write; but he had a judgment,
which no sophistry could blind, and his acute Hibernian remarks often
puzzled men who thought themselves better informed; besides this, he
had a fund of honour that never would allow him to stoop to a mean
action. One fault, indeed, he had in common with the generality of
his countrymen, and that was, when he got liquor he was a thorough
madman.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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