Chapter IV: Part 4

I may remark that I left Spithead 20th November, 1830; and I left Oporto on the 20th November, 1833. I then went on board the Samuel, schooner, loaded with wine, and bound for Bristol. I heard the captain say to his mate, concerning my fellow passenger and myself, that one or two passengers would not cost him much for provisions on the passage. Overhearing this remark, I said to him, “Mind, captain, that I don’t astonish your provision chest, as I have been formerly a marine on board the squadron.” He replied, “I am glad to hear you speak so boldly, as I will be rejoiced in your continuing in good health.” During the voyage, one of the seamen having become unfit for duty, I told the skipper that I would do my utmost to supply his place on the passage. He thanked me, and gave me a complete sea rig-out, comprising purser’s jacket, trousers, and a sou’-wester. He said, “Put these on, and doff your military uniform, and then you will look something ship-shape.” I immediately complied by getting down the forecastle, and into my new kit as soon as possible. I packed up my regimentals and stowed them away in the bunk where I usually slept. The captain was mightily pleased to see me come up a perfect seaman, to all appearance at least. I then told him he must excuse me going aloft, as the severity of my wounds prevented me doing so, but would do my utmost on deck. He was well satisfied with me, and, after a few days, we got into the skirts of the Bay of Biscay; our copper on the starboard quarter, containing rations for the ship’s company, during a stormy night, when the waves were actually running over the topmast, this unfortunate copper got loose and drove right across the main hatch and then into the sea. The captain then told the mate to batten down the hatchways, as there was a still worse squall to windward. I lashed myself to the pump. We soon after sprang a leak, and were nearly lost that night. The weather, however, moderated towards morning. The captain said to me, “You’re sticking fast enough to that pump.” I said I was, and told him I did so to make sure of seeing the old country once more, after all my hardships in foreign lands. After the squall was over, I continued at the pump--as we had sprung a leak. I pumped seven hours during the day, and had a glass of grog for every hour. The captain looked at me several times, and said, “Are you not getting tired?” I replied that I was, for my arms began to ache. “As we have lost our copper,” he says, “we must put up with what we have on board.” After we had got into the English Channel we had a very favorable wind, which carried us along in grand twig. When we came in sight of Holyhead a pilot came out with his men. They hove up alongside of us, and the pilot came on board, and conveyed the craft up the Pill. The captain said to me, “Corporal, you can change yourself now, and put on your own apparel.” Accordingly I went down into the forecastle; I dressed myself in uniform, and came on deck. The captain said, “You look a different man, corporal, to what you did some time ago. Get yourself ready to go on shore with me.” I asked him where he was going, and he said, “We are going seven miles overland to the ferry-boat leading into Bristol.” I asked, “Shall I call the other passenger, he is a sick man?” He replied, “No, let him stay there; he is unworthy much attention, as he did not try to assist when the ship was in great danger. I have £4 paid by the Portuguese Government for your passage to Bristol.” He gave it to me, saying, “you are well entitled to it; I will give you a little more when you come to Bristol.” We shortly afterwards went ashore in the boat, leaving the pilot in charge. We did not arrive in Bristol until two days, owing to the wind being so much against her. We proceeded on our way to Bristol, when the captain asked me if I would go into an hotel and take some refreshment; I replied, I would; he asked me what I would like, and I told him I should like a pint of English ale, as I had not drunk any such beverage for nearly three years. The ale took effect on me, more so than a gallon of wine. We then proceeded on our way two miles farther, until we came to the Ferry House Hotel; the captain and myself went into the hotel and took a glass each. On coming out, he felt very sick, and told me the liquor had taken a very bad effect on him. I waited some little time until he was able to go with me. We then got into a boat and went over to Bristol. The captain brought me to his own house in Bristol: he was a married man, having a wife and family. He mentioned having been to sea seventeen years, but had never witnessed such a fearful sea before, as it was touch and go with us. I stayed with the captain at his own residence for two days. We went down to the quay side on the third day to see if she had come up, and the captain discovered her lying alongside of the wharf. I brought some things on shore with me that I had carried from Portugal. The captain and I went into a tavern on the quay-side, where there were a great many other captains of ships assembled. They said, “Captain Kelsey, what kind of a voyage had you?” “A very indifferent one,” replied he; they remarked, “You have brought a soldier home with you.” He said, “Yes, and a very clever man he is. We were in the height of danger in the Bay of Biscay, and one of the seamen fell sick, and he took the man’s place to do anything that might be required on the passage; money had been paid by the Portuguese authorities for his passage; and I have given it to him, for he was very well deserving of it.” “Very good, captain,” they observed, all being very well acquainted with him, “We shall all make him up a little more.” So, from the gentlemen present in the parlour of the hotel, I got five pounds subscribed. They said, as the weather was very cold, that would enable me to proceed on to London; and after the captain, myself, and the majority of the captains had taken farewell of each other, I proceeded to the captain’s residence, and the following day to London. I shook hands very heartily with the captain this morning, and thanked him for his kindness for all I had received; he said I was well entitled to it; so I took farewell of him.

In going up through Bristol I heard a fiddle playing in an hotel, I took a seat and called for something to drink; I kept up the “spree” for two days, when the devil might have danced a hornpipe in my pocket, for my money was all gone. I was prosing my head how to get to London, and thought to myself I would go down to the Portuguese Council Chambers to see the consul, as I had an order for forty-three pounds back payment at Cavenhill’s, Cornhill, agent to the Portuguese Government. I presented this order to the Portuguese consul to ask him if he would grant me a few pounds, and I would leave the order with him, and he could forward it to the agents in London. He said he could not do anything of that kind, but that, owing to my good conduct in the Portuguese service, during the period I was in it, and seeing what I had on my dress coat (which was the united order of the Tower and Sword), he gave me five pounds, saying it was a gift from his own private purse. I was extremely thankful to him, and I retired from his apartment. In going through the hall, where there were a few gentlemen reading the newspapers, one of them asked me if I would please to stop; he asked me what regiment in the service I belonged to; I answered I formerly belonged to the ninety-fifth rifles; he asked me if I was in any engagements with them; I said I was in Holland under Sir Thomas Graham, and also General Adams at the battle of Waterloo. He said he knew them, and asked me several questions, which I answered. He asked me where I had gained the order of the United Sword, and I told him in the Portuguese service. He said he knew Portugal well, and added, “I am aware all you have told me is quite correct; I have been a colonel in the British army under Wellington;” he was satisfied, and asked me if I was going to London, I said, “Yes, sir.” He then gave me a letter of introduction to a gentleman in London. A good few gentlemen in the hall stopped reading their papers and gathered round me to hear what I had to say. The gentleman said to me, “Here is a trifle for you, to help you on to London,” and gave me a pound, and the rest of the company made me up four pounds more. I was very thankful to them all, and so I came out in flying colours, being a pound richer than when I first started.

I now proceeded on my way to London. When I came into Newbury, in Berkshire, I met with a recruiting party, beating up for recruits. The sergeant saw me going through the town, and called out to me to stop; he asked me what services I had been in; I told him I had been in Portugal of late, in the Queen’s service; and that I had formerly belonged to the 95th Rifles. He observed the medal on me, and asked me what brigade I belonged to; I told him the first brigade and second division, commanded by General Sir Frederick Adams. He then asked me if I knew what regiments belonged to the brigade; I told him the 52nd Light Infantry, the 71st Scotch, and the Rifles. He said, “I was in the 71st in the battle of Waterloo.” I observed the medal on his coat. I stopped with him two days; it did not cost me a farthing unless I wished. The sergeant was very partial to me, and wished me to enlist, but I did not comply with his wishes. During the two days I was with him and his recruiting party, he got me to go round the town with a drawn sword over my shoulder. When he pulled up at a tavern, and when the young men of the town would assemble round, he used to tell the inhabitants, pointing to me at the time, that I had been in the service and made an independency. I was the cause of picking up double the number of recruits that he could have got in any other way. I used to gammon the young countrymen they were all going to be made officers and gentlemen of, and they believed me. When I was about making my exit the third morning, he very kindly shook hands with me, and pressed me very hard to stay with him. “As you know a great many officers in the Portuguese service, I can recommend you to gentleman, a squire who lives about three miles from town.” I should come to a gate leading to a park where the squire resided; so I walked boldly up through the park and up to the front door and rang the bell; a servant came out to ask me what I wanted, and I told him I wished to see the squire. When the squire came he asked me what I wanted with him; I said I knew the squire’s brother in Portugal (Colonel Bacon, colonel in the Lancers). He looked at me very hard, and asked me a great many questions respecting him; also if I had been in any engagements along with him at any time. I told him I had been in two general engagements in one brigade with him. He asked me what engagements they were, and I satisfied him. He then enquired if I knew the colonel personally; I said I did, having often had conversation with him about Great Britain. He next asked me if I knew anything that took place at Velonga, and what it was. I informed him that we had liberty to plunder the town for two hours after we had taken it; and that I went into a gentleman’s apartment in the township of Velonga, where I found the colonel, who said to me, “Soldier, what brings you here?” I answered, “My legs, Sir. I have come on the same errand as yourself.” “What is that?” he enquired. I told him it was to fill my pockets or haversack with whatever I could lay hold of. He said, “I did not ask you for that; but I wish to know what you have come after.” “Anything I can lay my hands on,” I replied, “But I am afraid, colonel, there is very little to be got in this room, for I believe you have got it all.” I went into another room as quick as I could, and picked up a very valuable article--a golden crucifix. The colonel coming into the room, I said, “I do not know, colonel, what you got in the other room, but look here what I have got!” So I held out my hand to show him my prize. He was going to take hold of it with his delicate thumb; but I cried out in Portuguese “_Parer Poed!_” that is in English, “Stop a bit.” After that we both hunted about the room, and then went into two or three more. I got pretty well enough to satisfy myself.

The squire was delighted to think I could give such an excellent account, and made me a present of five pounds. He then rang the bell, and the servant came up, whom he ordered to take me down and give me some refreshment. Afterwards I proceeded on my journey to London.

I met with nothing worthy of mention until I reached London. I found the gentleman out to whom the colonel, in Bristol, had recommended me. I was very well treated by him, and highly recommended by several gentlemen who had relations in the service I had been engaged in; and they were pleased to see me. I got a card of a gentleman’s address (Mr. Thomas Shaw, 16 Woburn Place, Russell-square.) I went to his house, and found him at his office; as I was going up the steps he observed me from the window making an advance towards the office. When I knocked at the door he desired me to come in, and asked me my business. I told him I had been in Portugal with a brother of his, who ranked as Captain Charles Shaw, Captain of the Light Company, of the British battalion under Colonel Hodges; and that I had been corporal in his company for more than two years. In answer to his inquiry I told him my name was Thomas Knight. “Corporal Knight!” said he, looking at me very hard, and asking me a great many questions, which I answered. I mentioned that I had been out with his brother in the Portuguese service; the first time I met him was on board the ship going to Spithead. Mr. Shaw asked me if I would drink a glass of wine; and he ordered the man to bring up a bottle out of the cellar; he poured out a glass, and I drank to his health and to that of the gentlemen in company with him, and also to his absent brother, Brigadier-General Shaw, whom I had left in Portugal. He replied, “Bravo, Corporal!”

After some little time elapsed, Mr. Shaw brought me to the map he had in the office, and asked me if I understood it, I replied that I did. He then pointed his finger to a certain place on the map, and asked me if I knew its name. I answered that, it was a street called Rue Tendemoza. He pointed to another part of the map and asked if I knew what that was. I told him that was the convent of St. Lazarus. I then informed him I had brought his brother out of the field, when he was wounded, in three different engagements; and that the last wound he received to my knowledge was at Bomfine, on the 18th August 1832, where I saw him wounded by shot, in both calves of his legs. We held no farther conversation about him, as it was only on my own affairs. I told him I had been very severely wounded myself, and the captain wished me (if I felt inclined) to remain in the country until it was all over. We used to meet together in Oporto, and often have a chat together--he with crutches and me with a walking-stick to help me along; and that I was unfit for service, being very stiff-kneed. He asked me if I was anything of a scholar, I replied I was. He then said “I have thought of getting up some work to enable you to live during your old age.” He then handed me some sheets of foolscap paper and told me to write an account of my adventures.

He remarked that it would take too long for me to write it, and that he would instruct his clerk to write the account for me after office hours; so after a short time I went to the clerk (who was a short-hand writer), for eight or ten evenings for about three hours each evening, in a private apartment. After that period Mr. Shaw made me a present of five pounds, recommending me not to get tipsy, as he said soldiers were very apt to do so. I thanked him for his kindness, and assured him that I would profit by his good advice.

When I had completed my history he had 750 copies printed, which I sold about London; and now, many years after, I have again had recourse to this method of earning a trifle to support myself, for at the present time my wants are not many, my means are equally small, and now that I am so old, being 73 years, I am quite unable to do any kind of work, and in closing this narrative must ask my kind readers not to criticise too closely my little book, for my hand is not so steady nor my head so clear as they were when I stood in the ranks, in the never to be forgotten battle of Waterloo!

In conclusion, I hope this account of my life and adventures may prove interesting to my readers, and that they may have the gratification of feeling that in buying my little book, they have contributed their mite towards smoothing the rough path of life of the declining days of one of the few still surviving veterans who fought for their country under Wellington.

THOMAS KNIGHT.

R. Bell, Printer, 97 Little Collins Street East, Melbourne.

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Transcriber’s note:

Page 4, “friends I had been living him,” changed to read “friends I had been living with,” as in the 1867 printing of this book.

Obvious printer errors corrected silently.

Inconsistent spelling and hyphenation are as in the original.]