Recollections of an Eventful Life: Chiefly Passed in the Army

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W.R.M'Rhun, 1824
 

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الصفحة ix - ... me. All my faults perchance thou knowest, All my madness none can know ; All my hopes, where'er thou goest, Wither, yet with thee they go. Every feeling hath been shaken ; Pride, which not a world could bow. Bows to thee — by thee forsaken, Even my soul forsakes me now : But 'tis done — all words are idle — Words from me are vainer still ; But the thoughts we cannot bridle Force their way without the will. Fare thee well ! thus disunited, Torn from every nearer tie, Sear'd in heart, and...
الصفحة 107 - The officer felt a painful struggle between his duty and his feelings : the tears came into his eyes. She eagerly caught at this as favourable to her cause. ' Oh, aye, I see you have a feeling heart — you'll let me gang wi' him. You have nae wife ; but, if you had, I am sure you wad think it unco hard to be torn frae her this way — and this wee darlin'.' 'My good woman, (said the officer,) I feel for you much ; but my orders are peremptory, that no more than six women to each hundred men go with...
الصفحة 103 - Not to go," said he, in a compassionate tone of voice. — '• Oh, God, help me ! oh, Sandy !" she exclaimed, and sunk lifeless in the arms of her husband, who had sprung forward to her assistance, and in whose face was now depicted every variety of wretchedness. The drawing was interrupted, and she was carried by her husband to his birth, where he hung over her in frantic agony. By the assistance of those around her, she was soon recovered from her swoon ^ but she awoke only to a sense of her misery....
الصفحة 107 - When we arrived at the place where we were to embark, a most distressing scene took place, in the men parting with their wives. Some of them indeed it did not appear to affect much: others had got themselves nearly tipsy; but the most of them seemed to feel acutely. When Sandy's wife came to take her last farewell, she lost all government of her grief. She clung to him with a despairing hold. " Oh, dinna, dinna leave me !" she cried. The vessel was hauling out. One of the sergeants came to tell her...
الصفحة 157 - ... myself on the stone floor. My mind was a chaos. The events of the preceding thirty hours were all jumbled together in my brain. Previous to that I had a good assortment of necessaries, with a hundred and fifty dollars, and some pieces of silk. I was now left with a pair of canvass trowsers, my shirt, shoes, and forage cap; but it was the fortune of war, and I soon forgot it all in a profound sleep. I do not know how long I slept; but when I awoke all my comrades had left the bomb-proof, away...
الصفحة 144 - Let him lie there," was the reply. "We have no time to look after dead men now." At that time I thought it a hardened expression ; but this was my first engagement. Not so with the tar. He had been well used to them. The French soon acquired a fatal precision with their shot, sending them in through our embrasures, killing and wounding men every volley. I was on the left of the gun, at the front wheel. We were running her up after loading. I had stooped to take a fresh purchase, a...
الصفحة 148 - ... killed or wounded ; and the direction of them was then taken by men who knew little about it. The consequence was, that much ammunition was used to little purpose. The artillery soldier at the gun next to me was killed, and two men equally ambitious for what they considered the post of honour, quarrelled about it. From high words it came to blows ; but the dispute was soon settled ; for a shell, falling between them at that moment, burst and quieted them for ever. I could scarcely define my feelings...
الصفحة 105 - When the first bugle sounded, he got up, and prepared his things. Here a new source of grief sprung up. In laying aside the articles which he intended to leave, and which they had used together, the idea seemed fixed in her mind, that they would never use them in that way again ; and as she put them aside, she watered them with her tears. Her teapot, her cups, and every thing that they had used in common — all had their apostrophe of sorrow.
الصفحة 104 - What are ye a' makin' sic a wark about? Let the habie get her greet out ! I suppose she thinks there's naebody ever parted with their men but her, wi' her faintin', and her airs, and her wark!" The drawing was again commenced, and various were the expressions of feelings evinced by those concerned. The Irish women in particular were loud in their grief. It always appeared to me that the Irish either feel more acutely" than the Scotch or English, or that they have less restraint on themselves in expressing...
الصفحة 104 - Sandy, you'll no leave me and your poor babie, will you ?" The poor fellow looked in her face with a look of agony and despair. The scene drew tears from every eye in the room, with the exception of the termagant whom I have already mentioned, who said, " What are ye a' makin

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