The Adventures of Captain John Patterson: With Notices of the Officers, &c. of the 50th, or Queen's Own Regiment from 1807 to 1821Patterson, John
History
The Adventures of Captain John Patterson: With Notices of the Officers, &c. of the 50th, or Queen's Own Regiment from 1807 to 1821
Patterson, John
Great Britain. Army. Queen's Own Royal West Kent Regiment; Peninsular War, 1807-1814 -- Personal narratives, British
By this time we began to experience certain very uncomfortable qualms,
felt more or less by landsmen and sailors on their first invasion of
the ocean. Gay and jocund looks were speedily changed into those of a
more sickly character, the unpitied and unpitying malady, as the sea
got rough, spreading its influence around. As for the griffins, or
young adventurers, they vanished in silence to the lower regions,
betaking themselves to their proper dens, where they lay perdue,
meditating on their hapless fate; and, in a situation bordering on
despair, were indifferent as to whether they went to the bottom of the
deep, or were dismissed from the world by a shorter road. It is
wonderful how soon the ardour of even the most ambitious hero is
cooled by a bout of sea-sickness; the frame and spirit are paralysed,
and all the energies of mind and body are lying prostrate, and he
cares not a farthing for himself, or any human being. The worst of it
is, no one has compassion on the wretched victim, and though he may
seem absolutely in a dying state, the healthy and older hands only
laugh or grin at his distress; shaking their contented sides, while
they cruelly prescribe for the unhappy patient a fat mutton chop, or a
wedge of greasy bacon. For the smallest spot of solid earth upon which
to set one's foot, even though it were in a barren wilderness, the
wealth of India would with gladness be exchanged, and, in bitterness
of heart, the meanest reptile that ever crawled upon the surface of
dry land becomes an object of envy.
Our gallant bark still ploughed her way through the restless and
sparkling waters, bearing the faint and the light-hearted, the joyful
together with the sad, onward to the warm and renovating atmosphere of
southern regions. Even when our calamities were at their worst, there
was always something to keep us from sinking into total despondency.
Among other resources against care and ennui, there was the amusing
society of a gentleman, named Charles, our worthy surgeon, a stout,
broad shouldered Milesian. He was the drollest fellow imaginable, of
such infinite humour that he not only was the means of banishing the
blue devils from those who were in health, but of raising the spirits
of the sick and down-cast. In short he was a genius that could keep
the table in a roar.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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