Chapter 4

by William Makepeace Thackeray

　　IN WHICH BARRY TAKES A NEAR VIEW OF MILITARY GLORY.I never had a taste for anything but genteel company, and hate alldescriptions of low life. Hence my account of the society in which Iat present found myself must of necessity be short; and, indeed, therecollection of it is profoundly disagreeable to me. Pah! thereminiscences of the horrid black-hole of a place in which wesoldiers were confined; of the wretched creatures with whom I wasnow forced to keep company; of the ploughmen, poachers, pickpockets,who had taken refuge from poverty, or the law (as, in truth, I haddone myself), is enough to make me ashamed even now, and it callsthe blush into my old cheeks to think I was ever forced to keep suchcompany. I should have fallen into despair, but that, luckily,events occurred to rouse my spirits, and in some measure to consoleme for my misfortunes.The first of these consolations I had was a good quarrel, which tookplace on the day after my entrance into the transport-ship, with ahuge red-haired monster of a fellow--a chairman, who had enlisted tofly from a vixen of a wife, who, boxer as he was, had been more thana match for him. As soon as this fellow--Toole, I remember, was hisname--got away from the arms of the washerwoman his lady, hisnatural courage and ferocity returned, and he became the tyrant ofall round about him. All recruits, especially, were the object ofthe brute's insult and ill-treatment.I had no money, as I said, and was sitting very disconsolately overa platter of rancid bacon and mouldy biscuit, which was served to usat mess, when it came to my turn to be helped to drink, and I wasserved, like the rest, with a dirty tin noggin, containing somewhatmore than half a pint of rum-and-water. The beaker was so greasy andfilthy that I could not help turning round to the messman andsaying, 'Fellow, get me a glass!' At which all the wretches roundabout me burst into a roar of laughter, the very loudest among thembeing, of course, Mr. Toole. 'Get the gentleman a towel for hishands, and serve him a basin of turtle-soup,' roared the monster,who was sitting, or rather squatting, on the deck opposite me; andas he spoke he suddenly seized my beaker of grog and emptied it, inthe midst of another burst of applause.'If you want to vex him, ax him about his wife the washerwoman, whobates him,' here whispered in my ear another worthy, a retired link-boy, who, disgusted with his profession, had adopted the militarylife.'Is it a towel of your wife's washing, Mr. Toole?' said I. 'I'm toldshe wiped your face often with one.''Ax him why he wouldn't see her yesterday, when she came to theship,' continued the link-boy. And so I put to him some otherfoolish jokes about soapsuds, henpecking, and flat-irons, which setthe man into a fury, and succeeded in raising a quarrel between us.We should have fallen to at once, but a couple of grinning marines,who kept watch at the door, for fear we should repent of our bargainand have a fancy to escape, came forward and interposed between uswith fixed bayonets; but the sergeant coming down the ladder, andhearing the dispute, condescended to say that we might fight it outlike men with fists if we chose, and that the fore-deck should befree to us for that purpose. But the use of fistes, as theEnglishman called them, was not then general in Ireland, and it wasagreed that we should have a pair of cudgels; with one of whichweapons I finished the fellow in four minutes, giving him a thumpacross his stupid sconce which laid him lifeless on the deck, andnot receiving myself a single hurt of consequence.This victory over the cock of the vile dunghill obtained me respectamong the wretches of whom I formed part, and served to set up myspirits, which otherwise were flagging; and my position was speedilymade more bearable by the arrival on board our ship of an oldfriend. This was no other than my second in the fatal duel which hadsent me thus early out into the world, Captain Fagan. There was ayoung nobleman who had a company in our regiment (Gale's foot), andwho, preferring the delights of the Mall and the clubs to thedangers of a rough campaign, had given Fagan the opportunity of anexchange; which, as the latter had no fortune but his sword, he wasglad to make. The sergeant was putting us through our exercise ondeck (the seamen and officers of the transport looking grinning on)when a boat came from the shore bringing our captain to the ship;and though I started and blushed red as he recognised me--adescendant of the Barrys--in this degrading posture, I promise youthat the sight of Fagan's face was most welcome to me, for itassured me that a friend was near me. Before that I was somelancholy that I would certainly have deserted had I found themeans, and had not the inevitable marines kept a watch to preventany such escapes. Fagan gave me a wink of recognition, but offeredno public token of acquaintance; it was not until two daysafterwards, and when we had bidden adieu to old Ireland and werestanding out to sea, that he called me into his cabin, and then,shaking hands with me cordially, gave me news, which I much wanted,of my family. 'I had news of you in Dublin,' he said. ''Faith you'vebegun early, like your father's son; and I think you could not dobetter than as you have done. But why did you not write home to yourpoor mother? She has sent a half-dozen letters to you at Dublin.'I said I had asked for letters at the post-office, but there werenone for Mr. Redmond. I did not like to add that I had been ashamed,after the first week, to write to my mother.'We must write to her by the pilot,' said he, 'who will leave us intwo hours; and you can tell her that you are safe, and married toBrown Bess.' I sighed when he talked about being married; on whichhe said with a laugh, 'I see you are thinking of a certain younglady at Brady's Town.''Is Miss Brady well?' said I; and indeed, could hardly utter it, forI certainly was thinking about her: for, though I had forgotten herin the gaieties of Dublin, I have always found adversity makes manvery affectionate.'There's only seven Miss Bradys now,' answered Fagan, in a solemnvoice. 'Poor Nora'--'Good heavens! what of her?' I thought grief had killed her.'She took on so at your going away that she was obliged to consoleherself with a husband. She's now Mrs. John Quin.''Mrs. John Quin! Was there another Mr. John Quin?' asked I, quitewonder-stricken.'No; the very same one, my boy. He recovered from his wound. Theball you hit him with was not likely to hurt him. It was only madeof tow. Do you think the Bradys would let you kill fifteen hundred ayear out of the family?' And then Fagan further told me that, inorder to get me out of the way--for the cowardly Englishman couldnever be brought to marry from fear of me--the plan of the duel hadbeen arranged. 'But hit him you certainly did, Redmond, and with afine thick plugget of tow; and the fellow was so frightened, that hewas an hour in coming to. We told your mother the story afterwards,and a pretty scene she made; she despatched a half-score of lettersto Dublin after you, but I suppose addressed them to you in yourreal name, by which you never thought to ask for them.''The coward!' said I (though, I confess, my mind was considerablyrelieved at the thoughts of not having killed him). 'And did theBradys of Castle Brady consent to admit a poltroon like that intoone of the most ancient and honourable families in the world?''He has paid off your uncle's mortgage,' said Fagan; 'he gives Noraa coach-and-six; he is to sell out, and Lieutenant Ulick Brady ofthe Militia is to purchase his company. That coward of a fellow hasbeen the making of your uncle's family. 'Faith! the business waswell done.' And then, laughing, he told me how Mick and Ulick hadnever let him out of their sight, although he was for deserting toEngland, until the marriage was completed and the happy couple offon their road to Dublin. 'Are you in want of cash, my boy?'continued the good-natured Captain. 'You may draw upon me, for I gota couple of hundred out of Master Quin for my share, and while theylast you shall never want.'And so he bade me sit down and write a letter to my mother, which Idid forthwith in very sincere and repentant terms, stating that Ihad been guilty of extravagances, that I had not known until thatmoment under what a fatal error I had been labouring, and that I hadembarked for Germany as a volunteer. The letter was scarcelyfinished when the pilot sang out that he was going on shore; and hedeparted, taking with him, from many an anxious fellow besidesmyself, our adieux to friends in old Ireland.Although I was called Captain Barry for many years of my life, andhave been known as such by the first people of Europe, yet I may aswell confess I had no more claim to the title than many a gentlemanwho assumes it, and never had a right to an epaulet, or to anymilitary decoration higher than a corporal's stripe of worsted. Iwas made corporal by Fagan during our voyage to the Elbe, and myrank was confirmed on terran firma. I was promised a halbert, too,and afterwards, perhaps, an ensigncy, if I distinguished myself; butFate did not intend that I should remain long an English soldier: asshall appear presently. Meanwhile, our passage was very favourable;my adventures were told by Fagan to his brother officers, whotreated me with kindness; and my victory over the big chairmanprocured me respect from my comrades of the fore-deck. Encouragedand strongly exhorted by Fagan, I did my duty resolutely; but,though affable and good-humoured with the men, I never at firstcondescended to associate with such low fellows: and, indeed, wascalled generally amongst them 'my Lord.' I believe it was the ex-link-boy, a facetious knave, who gave me the title; and I felt thatI should become such a rank as well as any peer in the kingdom.It would require a greater philosopher and historian than I am toexplain the causes of the famous Seven Years' War in which Europewas engaged; and, indeed, its origin has always appeared to me to beso complicated, and the books written about it so amazingly hard tounderstand, that I have seldom been much wiser at the end of achapter than at the beginning, and so shall not trouble my readerwith any personal disquisitions concerning the matter. All I knowis, that after His Majesty's love of his Hanoverian dominions hadrendered him most unpopular in his English kingdom, with Mr. Pitt atthe head of the anti-German war-party, all of a sudden, Mr. Pittbecoming Minister, the rest of the empire applauded the war as muchas they had hated it before. The victories of Dettingen and Crefeldwere in every-body's mouths, and 'the Protestant hero,' as we usedto call the godless old Frederick of Prussia, was adored by us as asaint, a very short time after we had been about to make war againsthim in alliance with the Empress-queen. Now, somehow, we were onFrederick's side: the Empress, the French, the Swedes, and theRussians, were leagued against us; and I remember, when the news ofthe battle of Lissa came even to our remote quarter of Ireland, weconsidered it as a triumph for the cause of Protestantism, andilluminated and bonfired, and had a sermon at church, and kept thePrussian king's birthday; on which my uncle would get drunk: asindeed on any other occasion. Most of the low fellows enlisted withmyself were, of course, Papists (the English army was filled withsuch, out of that never-failing country of ours), and these,forsooth, were fighting the battles of Protestantism with Frederick;who was belabouring the Protestant Swedes and the Protestant Saxons,as well as the Russians of the Greek Church, and the Papist troopsof the Emperor and the King of France. It was against these latterthat the English auxiliaries were employed, and we know that, be thequarrel what it may, an Englishman and a Frenchman are prettywilling to make a fight of it.We landed at Cuxhaven, and before I had been a month in theElectorate I was transformed into a tall and proper young soldier,and having a natural aptitude for military exercise, was soon asaccomplished at the drill as the oldest sergeant in the regiment. Itis well, however, to dream of glorious war in a snug arm-chair athome; ay, or to make it as an officer, surrounded by gentlemen,gorgeously dressed, and cheered by chances of promotion. But thosechances do not shine on poor fellows in worsted lace: the roughtexture of our red coats made me ashamed when I saw an officer goby; my soul used to shudder when, on going the rounds, I would heartheir voices as they sat jovially over the mess-table; my priderevolted at being obliged to plaster my hair with flour and candle-grease, instead of using the proper pomatum for a gentleman. Yes, mytastes have always been high and fashionable, and I loathed thehorrid company in which I was fallen. What chances had I ofpromotion? None of my relatives had money to buy me a commission,and I became soon so low-spirited, that I longed for a generalaction and a ball to finish me, and vowed that I would take someopportunity to desert.When I think that I, the descendant of the kings of Ireland, wasthreatened with a caning by a young scoundrel who had just joinedfrom Eton College--when I think that he offered to make me hisfootman, and that I did not, on either occasion, murder him! On thefirst occasion I burst into tears (I do not care to own it) and hadserious thoughts of committing suicide, so great was mymortification. But my kind friend Fagan came to my aid in thecircumstance, with some very timely consolation. 'My poor boy,' saidhe, 'you must not take the matter to heart so. Caning is only arelative disgrace. Young Ensign Fakenham was flogged himself at EtonSchool only a month ago: I would lay a wager that his scars are notyet healed. You must cheer up, my boy; do your duty, be a gentleman,and no serious harm can fall on you.' And I heard afterwards that mychampion had taken Mr. Fakenham very severely to task for thisthreat, and said to him that any such proceedings for the future heshould consider as an insult to himself; whereon the young ensignwas, for the moment, civil. As for the sergeants, I told one ofthem, that if any man struck me, no matter who he might be, or whatthe penalty, I would take his life. And, 'faith! there was an air ofsincerity in my speech which convinced the whole bevy of them; andas long as I remained in the English service no rattan was ever laidon the shoulders of Redmond Barry. Indeed, I was in that savagemoody state, that my mind was quite made up to the point, and Ilooked to hear my own dead march played as sure as I was alive. WhenI was made a corporal, some of my evils were lessened; I messed withthe sergeants by special favour, and used to treat them to drink,and lose money to the rascals at play: with which cash my goodfriend Mr. Fagan punctually supplied me.Our regiment, which was quartered about Stade and Luneburg, speedilygot orders to march southwards towards the Rhine, for news came thatour great General, Prince Ferdinand of Brunswick, had been defeated-no, not defeated, but foiled in his attack upon the French under theDuke of Broglio, at Bergen, near Frankfort-on-the-Main, and had beenobliged to fall back. As the allies retreated the French rushedforward, and made a bold push for the Electorate of our graciousmonarch in Hanover, threatening that they would occupy it; as theyhad done before, when D'Estrees beat the hero of Culloden, thegallant Duke of Cumberland, and caused him to sign the capitulationof Closter Zeven. An advance upon Hanover always caused a greatagitation in the Royal bosom of the King of England; more troopswere sent to join us, convoys of treasure were passed over to ourforces, and to our ally's the King of Prussia; and although, inspite of all assistance, the army under Prince Ferdinand was verymuch weaker than that of the invading enemy, yet we had theadvantage of better supplies, one of the greatest Generals in theworld: and, I was going to add, of British valour, but the less wesay about that the better. My Lord George Sackville did not exactlycover himself with laurels at Minden; otherwise there might havebeen won there one of the greatest victories of modern times.Throwing himself between the French and the interior of theElectorate, Prince Ferdinand wisely took possession of the free townof Bremen, which he made his storehouse and place of arms; and roundwhich he gathered all his troops, making ready to fight the famousbattle of Minden.Were these Memoirs not characterised by truth, and did I deign toutter a single word for which my own personal experience did notgive me the fullest authority, I might easily make myself the heroof some strange and popular adventures, and, after the fashion ofnovel-writers, introduce my reader to the great characters of thisremarkable time. These persons (I mean the romance-writers), if theytake a drummer or a dustman for a hero, somehow manage to bring himin contact with the greatest lords and most notorious personages ofthe empire; and I warrant me there's not one of them but, indescribing the battle of Minden, would manage to bring PrinceFerdinand, and my Lord George Sackville, and my Lord Granby, intopresence. It would have been easy for me to have said I was presentwhen the orders were brought to Lord George to charge with thecavalry and finish the rout of the Frenchmen, and when he refused todo so, and thereby spoiled the great victory. But the fact is, I wastwo miles off from the cavalry when his Lordship's fatal hesitationtook place, and none of us soldiers of the line knew of what hadoccurred until we came to talk about the fight over our kettles inthe evening, and repose after the labours of a hard-fought day. Isaw no one of higher rank that day than my colonel and a couple oforderly officers riding by in the smoke--no one on our side, thatis. A poor corporal (as I then had the, disgrace of being) is notgenerally invited into the company of commanders and the great; but,in revenge, I saw, I promise you, some very good company on theFrench part, for their regiments of Lorraine and Royal Cravate werecharging us all day; and in that sort of melee high and low arepretty equally received. I hate bragging, but I cannot help sayingthat I made a very close acquaintance with the colonel of theCravates; for I drove my bayonet into his body, and finished off apoor little ensign, so young, slender, and small, that a blow frommy pigtail would have despatched him, I think, in place of the buttof my musket, with which I clubbed him down. I killed, besides, fourmore officers and men, and in the poor ensign's pocket found a purseof fourteen louis-d'or, and a silver box of sugar-plums; of whichthe former present was very agreeable to me. If people would telltheir stories of battles in this simple way, I think the cause oftruth would not suffer by it. All I know of this famous fight ofMinden (except from books) is told here above. The ensign's silverbon-bon box and his purse of gold; the livid face of the poor fellowas he fell; the huzzas of the men of my company as I went out undera smart fire and rifled him; their shouts and curses as we came handin hand with the Frenchmen,--these are, in truth, not very dignifiedrecollections, and had best be passed over briefly. When my kindfriend Fagan was shot, a brother captain, and his very good friend,turned to Lieutenant Rawson and said, 'Fagan's down; Rawson, there'syour company.' It was all the epitaph my brave patron got. 'I shouldhave left you a hundred guineas, Redmond,' were his last words tome, 'but for a cursed run of ill luck last night at faro.' And hegave me a faint squeeze of the hand; then, as the word was given toadvance, I left him. When we came back to our old ground, which wepresently did, he was lying there still; but he was dead. Some ofour people had already torn off his epaulets, and, no doubt, hadrifled his purse. Such knaves and ruffians do men in war become! Itis well for gentlemen to talk of the age of chivalry; but rememberthe starving brutes whom they lead--men nursed in poverty, entirelyignorant, made to take a pride in deeds of blood--men who can haveno amusement but in drunkenness, debauch, and plunder. It is withthese shocking instruments that your great warriors and kings havebeen doing their murderous work in the world; and while, forinstance, we are at the present moment admiring the 'GreatFrederick,' as we call him, and his philosophy, and his liberality,and his military genius, I, who have served him, and been, as itwere, behind the scenes of which that great spectacle is composed,can only look at it with horror. What a number of items of humancrime, misery, slavery, go to form that sum-total of glory! I canrecollect a certain day about three weeks after the battle ofMinden, and a farmhouse in which some of us entered; and how the oldwoman and her daughters served us, trembling, to wine; and how wegot drunk over the wine, and the house was in a flame, presently;and woe betide the wretched fellow afterwards who came home to lookfor his house and his children!