The Military Sketch-Book. Vol. 1 (of 2): Reminiscences of seventeen years in the service abroad and at homeMaginn, William
General
The Military Sketch-Book. Vol. 1 (of 2): Reminiscences of seventeen years in the service abroad and at home
Maginn, William
Bushrangers; Military biography; Soldiers -- Conduct of life
“It's na use o' talkin', Corporal,” replied M'Fadgen, “the English
sodgers are gude, the Scotch sodgers are gude, an' the Irish sodgers
are gude; but the Scotch an' Irish enter the sarvice to beetter
themselves, while the English 'list from misfortune: _we_ tak it as a
wife, for beetter or for worse, to live an' dee by it; but the English
tak it only as sort o' reemedy; they dinna like it; but it's oor meat
an' drink; and that's the reason why we make mair progress in learnin'
oor duty. Yet if ye get an Englishman but fairly into it, heart an'
han', he'll turn oot as gude an' as brave a sodger as ever bore a
musket over his shouther.”
“Why, to be sure, Sergeant, there is a dale o' thruth in that,”
replied O'Callaghan: “I only say, that we larn the business quicker,
because it's more in our way; but faith! I've met English boys in the
Peninsula, that never were surpassed by any sodgers on earth—right
steady fellows—proper salamandthers—men who would jump into a breach
undther a flankin' fire as soon as any divils in the world. I'm only
saying that they are as ignorant before they 'list as we are, an' have
no rason at all at all in talking about Irishmen or Scotchmen as one
bit below them.”
“_Below_ them! eh?—Pooh! that's a' to be put to nathing, but raight
doon ignorance,” said the Sergeant; “I never knew any Englishmon that
wasn't either a booby or a puppy, wha didn't think we were quite as
gude as themsels.”
“Damn'd if you a'nt right, Sergeant,” observed Jack Andrews: “I am an
Englishman, born and reared. I have seen the world, and as you say,
Sergeant, the Englishman _must_ be either a booby or puppy, who places
himself and his countrymen above either Scotch or Irish. The fact is,
we have all fought together, and will fight again, please God and
the Holy Alliance. Was that fellow, snoring there on the guard-bed,
an Englishman, when he rescued me from the gripe of three French
grenadiers, by the fair dint of battering their heads with the butt
end of his musket—I mean Dennis Tool? Did _he_ consider that he was
fighting to rescue an Englishman or his own countryman? We were two
against four: he shot the fellow who attacked him, and got me safe from
the other three: and it was when we were on picket, cut off clean from
our guard. I say, that I never, during the whole time I served in the
Peninsula, saw or heard of any difference as regards country; it is
only at home that there is bickering on that subject.”
“Well, faith! I suppose, it's to keep their hands in practice, that
they fight and wallop each other at home, having no more enemies to
fight with abroad,” remarked the Corporal.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Elsewhere in the archive
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account