Chapter I · INTRODUCTORY—MY ENLISTMENT.

I do not wish to enter into the genealogy of my family, notwithstanding I was asked to do so by some friends on several occasions when talking over the past few years of my life in the army. This I find to be rather a delicate subject, and one that I am not prepared for. It would matter but little to any of my readers, as I am of obscure and humble parentage. Had any of my forefathers shone in the busy scenes that take place amongst us from time to time, I would have every chance of being known and made known to many of my fellow-countrymen, and my late sufferings and many narrow escapes, which I endured while in the service of my Queen and country, would at times be felt with pain and pleasure. Suffice it, then, to say, that I am an Invernesian by birth—a true-born Clachnacuddin.

The most of my early days were spent in the capital of the Highlands. Often have I followed the sound of the pibroch, and went along with the recruiting parties, headed by their sergeant with his sword drawn, marching up one street and down another. What a gay life (I thought to myself) to be a soldier!—buckle, shoe, and sporan dazzling in the sun—also their head-dress, so soldier-like, and all arrayed in fine order. What a delusion! What a difference there is in the soldier’s life when in the camp and field—in front of the foe, surrounded on all sides with danger! Not so here at Inverness, where my young and ardent bosom became inflamed to be a soldier, buoyed up with the idea of thinking it quite a gentleman’s life. But it would be well for every man who wears a red coat to go on active service: it is there and only there he can get a thorough knowledge of his position. The party at Inverness would talk of battles, sieges, narrow escapes, and so on, which led me to believe that to be a soldier would open the way to fame and honour. At this time I was but fourteen years of age, and of course I was not as yet able to be a soldier; but I trusted that the time would soon come when I would stand five feet seven inches. Ah, yes! that day did come, and I have, by sad experience, undergone the trials of a soldier’s life.

I spent a good many of my early days with a relation—a gentleman of small estate, near Fort-George—who acted to me with the kindness of a father. When at this place I was in the habit of going to Fort-George, and my desire became strengthened of becoming a soldier. When I saw them going through their evolutions—large gun drill, firing salutes, and so on—it would often bring to my mind what the Inverness party used to say of a soldier’s life being all glory and honour. A Highland regiment, or part of a regiment, lay at this time at Fort-George. One morning, as I went down to the little village of Campbeltown for letters, I fell in with a sergeant who was residing at the Fort. (In after years, in the late Crimean war, I was standing by his side in the trenches in front of Sebastopol when he was struck by the splinter of a shell and killed on the spot; and little did I know when I saw him that morning at Campbeltown that I would be so close to him when he lost his life.) The first thing I asked him was if he thought I was height enough, as I wished very much to become a soldier. I recollect of his taking me to a public-house and measuring me, but I was one inch below the standard. This stung me a little, as my mind was now fully made up to join the army. However, I went home, and a few days after this little affair happened, my kind friend and benefactor, with whom I was at this time staying, sent me to a day-school at Nairn, always telling me that I must be diligent and learn at school, as he intended to do something for me. I soon tired of this work at Nairn. A field-day at Fort-George would always whisper, honour and fame is all I want.

After staying at Nairn for two summers, I left and went to Inverness, my native town. I was still below the standard, and the recruiting parties would often tell me I was too little for anything. I met in at this time with an old schoolmate, who told me he was going to Edinburgh, and that if I would go along with him he would pay my fare to that city. I agreed, and was ready in a week from that time. I kept my father and the rest of the family in the dark regarding this. The day arrived, and my friend and I left for Edinburgh. A few days after our arrival I went to visit the Castle. The Castle was garrisoned by the 79th Cameron Highlanders, and to this gallant corps I volunteered my services. They were accepted. I went through all the forms that a recruit has to go through when he enlists, and my name was enrolled in the 79th, and I became a Cameron Highlander.