Ned Fortescue, or, Roughing it through life; a story founded on fact

Preface

In the following pages I have endeavored to portra}^ a phase of life upon which many romances have been founded, and it has been my object to give the reader, who may be unacquainted with the Vie Bohemienne of the army, a true idea of the feelings and circumstances as felt and seen by a soldier in the "ranks," who gradually wins his way from the first step of the ladder to that position from whence most other story-t^ers start when they adopt a military hero.

Many chapters in this book relate to what is now matter of history, and the whole are the experience of a life of active soldiering, with the uninteresting and dry details of General Orders left out. The guard-tent and barrack, instead of the mess-table and ante-room, has supplied me with material for many of my scenes. In this I have deviated from the beaten track, and hope the reader may find that in so doing I have not injured the interest of the narrative.

The Authob.

OR,

EOUGHINa IT THROUGH LIFE.

Chapter I

Burst joyfully from the throats of at least a dozen youths of various ages, from eight to eighteen, who crowded the in and out sides of the smart stage coach, with its splendid four grey horses, on the morning before Christmas. Among this happy group, figured conspicuously my brother and your humble servant, comfortably located in the rumble, which afforded us an excellent view of the surrounding country as we bowled along the turnpike road to London. As we turned out of the little village of Pinner, through an openingin the now leafless trees, we caught sight of the numerous gables and quaint old chimneys of the Manor House, where, for the past six months, our preceptor, the learned Dr. Bogue, had endeavored to inculcate in our minds the beauties of J ohnson, Lindley Murray, vulgar fractions, and scraps of classic lore. The glimpse was but a short one ; and, as the scene faded away in the distance, it passed from my memory — my thoughts being turned to the coming festivities, the pantomimes, and the sights that we were usually indulged in during the vacation, at this season of the year.

On reaching the metropolis, we were met by my father, and .

conveyed home ; not to the one we had left in the summer, but to one of more moderate pretensions in Chelsea. The reason of this change was not explained to us, nor did I think of enquiring, being engrossed in my own anticipations of coming pleasures during the holidays ; the greater portion of which I was to spend with my grandfather and uncle, who were merchants, and had their establishment at the West End of London. At the termination of the holidays it turned out that we were not to return to school. Some financial difficulties having arisen — some speculation in which my father was engaged, by which he was a considerable loser ; so much so, that his affairs became somewhat embarrassed — and he came to the determination of quitting England, in hopes of rebuilding his fortune in one of the colonies. After several pros and cons it was decided that the family should proceed to Canada, early in the summer. This being the case, it was not deemed expedient or necessary that we should return to school ; and I was permitted, much to my delight, to remain at my grandfather's. A few days prior to the departure of the family for the colonies, an arrangement had been entered into by my relatives for my remaining in England. This suited me exactly. The pleasures of a London life had more attractions for me then than a trip to the New World, and so I remained behind. My uncle was of a cheerful turn of mind, and fond of public amusements and exhibitions generally. When visiting these places I was usually his companion ; consequently I soon acquired a taste for such things (so natural in youth). My grandfather was one of the old school, plodding, methodical, and punctual in his business, to which he devoted all his energies, seldom relaxing on the score of pleasure ; a man of strict integrity, an exemplary father, and a thorough good man every way. On Sunday mornings he regularly attended Divine Service ; then, after dinner, his custom was to stroll out of town to Hornsey, Highgate, Hampstead, Battersea, Kcw, or some other of the suburban localities, and in some quiet little hostelry, snugly

OE, ROUaHING IT THROUaH LIFE.

ensconced in a shrady nook or bower, he would enjoy his glass of ale, and smoke his long clay pipe, as was customary among men of his class some thirty years ago. I always attended him on those peregrinations, and thus I acquired a thorough knowledge of the environs of London. For the first two or three years I enjoyed this sort of life exceedingly. At my i grandfather's, being of an enquiring disposition, I was continually in the manufactory, asking questions of the employSs concerning the manufacturing of the different articles they were preparing for shipment to foreign ports-^in fact I obtained a considerable insight into the business. But I was advancing towards manhood, and I began to think what my future lot in life must be. I had always had a strong dislike to trade or commercial speculations of any kind. The Church was out of the question, and the study of law I had a strong aversion to ; as for medicine or anatomy, I turned from them with almost loathing. While revolving these matters in my own mind — to decide what I was most fitted for — an actor appeared upon the scene that settled this point, at least for a time. My brother, some eighteen months older than myself, and who had chosen for his profession the service of the Merchant Marine, arrived with his vessel in the London Docks. This was a source of much pleasure to me, as the vessel had to remain in dock all the winter. Of course my brother was anxious to hear and see all that could be seen of London life during his stay, having been at school nearly all the time prior to the family's departure from England, not having enjoyed the same facilities that I had for witnessing the gaieties of that very gay city ; so I became his chaperon, and a right jolly time we had of it.

Frequently, when his duties compelled him to remain on board by night as well as by day, I would keep him company ; and in the comfortable cabin, with a cigar and some wine, would I listen to his funny yarns about Canada and the Canadians. His description of different ports he had visited highly interested me, and I began to ask myself whether it would not be much pleasanter to go to those places and see for myself, than to loiter uselessly about a manufactory from day to day, whence no possible future good could be derived by me. But how could this be managed ; to travel requires cash, and although my grandfather and uncle supplied me with a liberal allowance for pocket money, I knew well that they would not spare me a sufficient sum to carry out my wishes. I mentioned this difficulty to my brother. " Why," said he, " the thing is easy enough ; why not go home to Quebec ? They will all be happy to see you. You can then decide what step you will next take. I know that the agreement with our grandfather was, that if you wished at any time to rejoin the family in Canada, he was to provide you with a passage out. Of course you cannot sail until the spring ; and, if you take my advice, you will acquire as much knowledge as practicable of the working of a ship, and the various duties required of its officers and men, while on your passage across the Western Ocean; it may stand your friend some day, if you have a roving turn of mind. I will teach you how to pull and steer a boat, during our stay in the docks." And he kept his word. We went out in the ship's jolly boat, but I very nearly came to grief at the outset. The boat was alongside, with a quantity of water in it, and my brother requested me to bail it out. I set to work with a good will, and while so doing, I struck my hand against a wooden plug, driven into a hole in the bottom of the boat, to drain her when on deck. Now, as I always had an aversion to more hard work than was actually necessary, a bright thought struck me ; why not pull out the plug and let the water run out, as I had seen it done on board. In a moment out it came, but instead of running out, to my surprise and consternation, the water rushed in and the boat filled and sank. Fortunately, I had learned to swim while at school, or I should have paid pretty dear for my stupidity. Striking out for the first boat, I got in, and from thence on board, where I took off njy clothes and had them dried — using a suit of

OR, ROUGHINa IT THROUGH LIFE.

my brother's, for the time being. However, nothing daunted, into the boat we got, and pulled about for several days at different times, until I could manage the oars and use the yoke lines. We then went on to the Thames, and had many a good row to Battersea or Richmond.

Early in the spring I broached the subject of departure to my relatives ; they at first objected, but seeing my mind was made up, they consented, and procured me a passage on the fine clipper barque " James Holmes," and bidding farewell to relations and friends, also paying a last visit to my favorite haunts — for it might be many years before T again returned to that part of the world — I went on board, on a chilly morning in April. About 11 a.m., the tide served, and as the flood-gates of the dock opened, out we floated into the Thames — down the pool, winding our way in and out between the various craft with which that famous river is at all times studded, and dear old London was soon lost in the distance. The day being raw and blustering, I did not remain long on deck, but took refuge in my snug little stateroom, and busied myself in arranging my books, writing materials, etc., until the steward came and announced dinner. I had a good appetite and enjoyed it very much, but it was the last meal I could eat for many days. The weather was squally, with a fair wind, and we made good running all that night. The next morning I began to experience that great drawback to ocean travelling, "seasickness." I suffered very severely for several days, and we were far from land before I could leave my berth and go on deck. Being the only passenger, I received all the attention from the officers and crew that I required, and I had not been more than a month on board before I knew the name of every rope and sail, and the purposes for which they were intended. I had also been several times up aloft in fine weather. I had acted on my brother's suggestion, and brought on board several pounds of tobacco, and by judiciously distributing it, I acquired a great deal of useful informa-

NED fortescite;

tion on nautical matters. From the chief officer, I learned to " box the compass," heave the lead, and keep the daily log of the ship's progress. I was also permitted to take the wheel and steer the ship — of course, under the supervision of the helmsman, or one of the officers. I do not remember much of the voyage until we arrived at the banks of Newfoundland, where we had to keep the ship's bell constantly going, as a warning to the fleet of small vessels engaged in fishing in that region. We heard the bells of several ships, but so dark was the atmosphere, that they were generally invisible. It was with great satisfaction that, one fine evening, I received from the captain the cheering intelligence that by daylight, the following morning, we should reach Grosse Isle, distant only thirty miles from Quebec. This turned out to be the case, and at an early hour, we were boarded by the medical officer, whose duty it was to inspect the passengers and crew, to ascertain if there was any sickness or epidemic amongst them. Having a clean BiU of Health we were allowed to proceed up the river.

On arriving at Quebec I landed at the Cul de Sac. I directed my steps towards my father's office, the whereabouts of which I had been made acquainted with previous to quitting England. On crossing the end of Mountain street I observed my father coming towards me. He recognized me at once, and calling a caleche, we drove home to a neat little cottage in St. John's suburb. My unexpected arrival created quite a sensation in the family circle for some days. My eldest sister, a beautiful and interesting girl, some three years younger than myself, hailed my appearance with delight, and many a time and oft did we ramble together through the beautiful and romantic spots for which Quebec is so celebrated. During that summer, except when on a visit to Montreal, I spent most of my time in shooting and fishing, and frequently supplied our table with fresh fish from Eivcr St. Charles or Lake Beauport, which were my favorite haunts for capturing the finny tribe. But the appearance of hoary winter put an end

OE, BOUGHINa IT THROUGH LIFE.

that sort of thing. The snow fell thick and fast, and all nature was shrouded with a white mantle — all verdure disappearing from view for several months. I had never liked the winter season, even in England, and therefore felt that the severity of the climate was a death-blow to all pleasure — ^for Quebec, at that season of the year, is completely ice-bound. Of course, to those born in the country, the ice and snow afford considerable amusement. Sleighing and toboganing parties are much enjoyed by the Canadians generally. I was fond of skating, and there was a great field for that healthy exercise, although not then entered into so generally, or with such spirit as at the present day. Few of the fair sex ever donned the skate — the weather on the St. Lawrence being so intensely cold — and covered rinks not having yet come into fashion. Since that day I have seen beautifully illuminated rinks, crowded with from fifteen hundred to two thousand persons, of all ages — emperors, mailed knights, queens, sultanas, Turks, fairies, demons, and every conceivable character, in gorgeous and grotesque apparel, gliding smoothly ^ and gracefully about on the polished ice, , in a^ seemingly confused mass, to the soul-inspiring strains of some two or three regimental bands, — the fair ladies waltzing, and the gentlemen tracing strange figures and devices. These carnivals certainly remind us of what we have read concerning " Fairy Land."

My education, for the past four years, had been somewhat neglected, so I made a virtue of necessity, and during the long winter evenings resumed my studies under the direction of my father, who was an excellent scholar, and whose penmanship was the best I have ever seen, before or since. At length this, to me, gloomy season passed; smiling Spring unfolded her generous presence of sunshine and tears; the snow disappeared, the floating ice was carried from the rivers by their rapid currents, to the far away north, and the harbour was soon alive with shipping. I had obtained an appointment in my father's office,

8 NED FOBTESCUE ;

but close confinement to a desk was ill-suited to a roving disposition like mine, and I longed for a change of scene.

Just about this time, troubles began to arise between the government and a certain portion of the population. Disaffection and disloyalty appeared, and soon openly avowed rebellion was seen throughout the land. Fresh troops were ordered out from England, the militia called out, and a draft made upon all males between the ages of sixteen and thirty-five, to quell the rising, and support the government and the Queen's authority. Not wishing to embroil myself in a political contest for a country whose climate I so much disliked, I determined to leave it on the first favorable opportunity that presented itself

This I had not long to wait for. The nature of my occupation threw me a great deal among the captains of sea-going vessels. One day I mentioned casually, in course of conversation with the captain of the brig "Isidore," bound for Scotland, and from thence to the West Indies, my desire to leave Quebec. He said, that he would be happy to forward my views, and that if I would accept the post of supercargo on his vessel, the appointment was at my service. Matters were soon arranged, and after an affectionate leave-taking of my family, I, on the 27th of August, reported myself for duty on board the " Isidore," outward bound, for the port of Troon, in Ayrshire, Scotland.

The hour of seven tolled upon the evening breeze from the bells of the different churches in the upper and lower towns, while the silver moon arose majestically, in all its splendor, from behind the forest-crowned heights of Pointe Ldvis, shedding its refulgent light upon tower and steeple, showing forth with vivid brilliancy the tin roofs and cupolas, with which the old city abounded. I stood leaning over the taffrail of the vessel, watching tlic scene with deep interest, for a few minutes, until we were borne beyond its influence by tlio current, and the light breeze that filled our swelling sails and impelled us onward towards the gulf The weather was deliglitful. We set our

OR, ROUGHING IT THROUGH LIFE.

studding sails when opposite Grosse Isle, and did not take them in until we had crossed the broad Atlantic — which we effected in the then remarkably short run of twenty days — sighting the Skerry Rocks, oif the Irish coast, on the evening of the sixteenth of September. Ts the night closed in, the south-west breeze died away to a dead calm„ Dark, heavy, murky clouds surged up from the horizon, passing fitfully across the young moon, which soon disappeared, leaving all in pitch}?- darkness. A thick drizzling rain continued to fall for some hours, when a light breeze sprang up from the land, and continued to increase. The sea rose with it. Our. studding sails were taken in, the royals stowed, the top-gallant sails clewed up, and the flying jib lowered. We endeavored to beat up to windward, but the wind increased with such violence that we found it necessary to furl the top-gallant sails, and double reef the fore and main top sail. The storm still increasing — it blowing a regular northeaster— the storm trysail was set, and every halyard, clewline, and preventive brace set and properly secured, but to no purpose. The sea, lashed into fury by the violence of the storm, was now making clean breaches over us. The first sea of any note, that we shipped came over our starboard bow, carrying away the galley ; next our flying jib-boom snapped short off at the cap. A little before daylight our maintopmast went by the board, wrenching off the standing rigging. This caused the vessel to keel over considerably, but a few blows from the boatswain's axe cut it clear away, and we righted, although for a short time only. The next heavy sea struck our starboard quarter, unshipping the rudder ; the ship became unmanageable ; and there was nothing left but to take to the long boat, as the brig was fast ^ settUng down in the. trough of the sea. We had shipped so much water that it was impossible to get below to sa.ve our effects, ^'ortunately for me, I had, the morning before, taken out of my chest my best suit of blue, to brush and give it an aiidng ; after so doing I wrapped it up in a piece of old sail-

NEB FOETESCUE ;

cloth, and stowed it away in the stern of the long boat, until I could have an opportunity of taking it below ; and so accidentally saved it. After several ineffectual attempts we succeeded in launching the boat on our larboard quarter ; it was well for us that we had thus succeeded, for we had hardly pulled out more than fifty yards when the brig pitched heavily forward, and went down head foremost. We were now in an open boat, in a heavy sea — no very pleasant position, truly — but the storm shortly after had exhausted its fury, and the sea went down, much to our relief I very much doubt, however, if any of us could have reached the shore alive but for the timely arrival of a coasting lugger, that bore down upon us. By the exertions of their crew we got on board, when she immediately shaped her course for Dublin.

OB, ROUGHING IT THROUGH LIFE.

Chapter II

It was with no small degree of satisfaction that I beheld — as we rounded Ireland's Eye — the Bay of Dublin, with the snug little harbor of Kingstown, the romantic view of old Dunleary, and the Hill of Howth, rising, as it were, out of the ocean ; all looking so tranquil and picturesque on that fine clear autumn morning. The wind and tide being against us, we had to kedge our way up stream after the following fashion : the jolly boat, with a small kedge anchor in it, was sent some fifty yards in advance, and the anchor dropped; the hawser to which it was attached was then hauled upon by those on board, which brought the vessel up to the boat, the kedge was then weighed. Proceeding in this way, we at length reached the river LifFey, that runs through the city of Dublin, like the Thames through London. On the sands, by the Pigeon House, some troops were going through their rifle evolutions, which had a very pretty effect from the water. I noticed some remarkably fine quays, on which were situated the Custom House, Trinity House, the Four Courts, and other public edifices. The lower quays, on the south side, were used principally for colliers . while those on the north were crowded with merchantmen from all parts of the world. I was much pleased with my visit to Dublin; the people seemed hospitable, good humoured, and pleasant, and during my stay I had an opportunity of seeing a great deal of the wit and humor which is the peculiar characteristic of the people. My stay at the Irish Capital on this occasion was of short duration, for Captain Millett succeeded within a fortnight in obtaining charge of a brig bound to the Port of Troon, in Ayrshire, some nine miles distant from Irvin, his native place.

He requested that I should accompany him, stating that on his arrival at the latter place he could obtain the command of a fine vessel in the West India trade, in which he would give me employment in the tropics during the coming winter. To this I acceded, and sailed with him for Scotland. The weather being rough and unfavorable, it was several days before we made the port of Troon, a small coal depot in Ayrshire. It was scarcely daylight when we came to anchor, and everything was made snug before 7 o'clock, the rules of the port not permitting any fires on board the vessels in harbor. We had to go on shore for our meals ; the captain took the crew with him to get their breakfast, leaving the chief officer and myself on board until they should return, which they did in about an hour. The mate and I then started in the direction of the house pointed to us by the captain ; the knocking about at sea had worked our appetites to a keen pitch, and visions of beef-steaks, eggs, coffee, hot rolls, and buttered toast, rose to our hungry fancies, but there also we were doomed to disappointment, for a time at least. On entering a large room — clean, and the floor covered with white sand, all comfortable enough — we were followed by a short stout " redheaded" little lady, who announced herself as the landlady of the establishment. " Has Captain Millett, of the 'Rob Roy,' ordered breakfast for us," enquired I, bowing politely to the dame. "If so, I should like to see it." " Quite right/' replied she, '^and there it is, all ready for you," pointing, as she spoke, to a side table, where stood a large bowl of oatmeal porridge, into which were thrust two spoons ; and on each side of the said bowl was a small basin of milk, and a plate of " oat cake " known to the initiated as " snap and rattle " from its brittleness. The mate and I eyed the composition for a few seconds, then turning to the redhaired mistress of the house enquired whether she took us for a couple of sucking pigs — that were to be fattened on milk and meal, and fed out of one trough. The look of bewilderment that spread over her features assured us that she considered the repast prepared for \m was all that any one could require.

OR, ROUGHING IT THROUGH LIFE.

Not fancying an outburst from woman's natural weapon, we 'bout ship and started on a fresh tack further into the town. After some difficulty we succeeded in obtaining an excellent breakfast of "Finnan baddies," fresh eggs and soft bread, good butter and some capital coffee — nor did we fail to try, on our host's recommendation, some of his real old " Glenlivat." Whether Captain Millett had over-rated his interest, or was in ill luck, I know not, but he did not succeed in getting the vessel he anticipated, or any other, so after a sojourn of two weeks in the " land o' cakes," I shipped on board a collier brig, the " Dundonald," bound for Dublin. A few hours after leaving port, the wind, which was right aft, increased to a hurricane, lashing the waves into fury, and driving us through the water at a terrific rate. While passing the Ailsa Craig, an immense rock, that rises out of the sea, we recognized the schooner ' ' J ames," of Workington, with her distress signal flying, and laboring heavily in the trough of the sea. We were at no great distance from the shore, and could distinctly see the people on the beach endeavoring to launch boats for her assistance ; but no boat could live in such a sea — and we could render no aid, as we, ourselves, were in imminent danger of going under. The little schooner struggled bravely, but all to no avail, and in twenty miimtes from the time we came in sight she foundered, and all on board perished. The last soul that was seen was the mate, high up in the main rigging, waving his hat for succour. Shortly after, the gale moderated, and in a few hours we made Dublin without the loss of a spar. I remained at the Irish Metropolis until my finances had sunk to a very low ebb. All that could be heard or seen gratis, I did not fail to avail myself of, and during my stay picked up many of the Irish peculiarities. Being unable to obtain a berth on board any vessel going to a foreign port, I determined to return to London. To accomplish this end, I shipped on board of a brig bound for Liverpool, and worked my passage to that port ; signing articles for one shilling. Our trip was short and pleasaiit ;

and thus, after an absence of nearly two years, I again found myself in England, though many miles from friends or relations, and a perfect stranger in Liverpool.

" Well, what are you going to do, youngster," was the enquiry of the captain, as I entered the cabin to receive the amount of my nomina^l wages. ''I am going to London," was my reply. "Do you go by water, or take the stage T " Neither ; I intend to walk. This," said T, pointing to the shilling that still lay on the table, "is all I possess ; so, as I cannot remain in Liverpool, or pay coach hire, I must, of course, tramp it up to London, for I have no intention of earning my bread through life upon the waters." He looked up with surprise, and said, "You have a tough journey before you, for I am told it is something over two hundred miles ; the weather is cold, and the clouds look like snow. I am sorry it is not in my power to assist you to any great extent, but here is half a crown, and tell the steward to give you a good piece of boiled pork and some biscuits ; that will help you along for a day or two." This was a real act of kindness, and I felt grateful to the rough sailor for his thoughtfulness.