Jamaica—Return to England—York Chasseurs disbanded—Trip to France—An amusing duel

I HAD not been many days at St. Vincent before the papers announced that no less than sixteen vessels had foundered in the late hurricane, and as none of the crews were heard of it was taken for granted that they must have all perished. I soon afterwards left St. Vincent with my detachment, and after a pleasant voyage arrived in safety at Port Royal, Jamaica. On the following day I landed and joined the headquarters of my regiment at Stony Hill barracks. The change from staff to regimental duties I did not much like, but there was no help for it. I found myself again associated with my gay and happy brother officers, with Major Dumas in command, Colonel Ewart having gone on leave. Some months afterwards four companies of the regiment were detached and sent under my command to Falmouth, Montego Bay, Marroon Town, and Savanna-lamar, my station being at the former of these places. Our barracks there and at all the other stations were very good and we enjoyed ourselves very much. For nearly two years we were quartered in that part of Jamaica. My orders were to visit each detachment occasionally, which I did repeatedly, not solely as a point of duty, but also for my own amusement.

About the month of March, 1818, our senior major arrived from England and took command of the regiment at Stony Hill; Major Dumas joined us at Falmouth, and relieved me of my charge. I now began seriously to think of a trip to England, for my health was not particularly good and I required a change. On consulting our assistant-surgeon, he advised me to apply for a medical board, so I wrote officially to Major Dumas, who forwarded my application to the deputy adjutant-general at headquarters, Kingston, and by return of post I was advised to repair to Stony Hill, to appear before a medical board. I made that journey, a hundred and twenty miles overland, on horseback in four days. I appeared before the board, who, without asking me any questions, recommended me for twelve months’ leave of absence to England. We sailed from Port Royal early in April, and touched at Havana, where we remained ten days, shipping at night (contrary to the laws of the port but with the connivance of the governor) thousands and thousands of dollars and doubloons on account of merchants in England, upon which our admiral and his senior officer had a large percentage. We left Havana, and arrived in England early in May, 1818, after a most agreeable passage. The admiral and his captain were particularly jolly, and very kind to us all; the former had the officers of the wardroom daily at dinner in their turn, and entertained us with his numerous stories; among other things he told us he had made a hundred thousand pounds during his three years’ command on the Jamaica station.

Again in England, and with my health much improved by the voyage, I endeavoured to enjoy myself as much as I could. About December, 1819, I heard that the York Chasseurs were ordered from Jamaica to Canada, to be there disbanded, consequent upon the general peace which followed the battle of Waterloo and the great reductions in the British army. Soon afterwards I received an official letter informing me that I was to consider myself on half-pay in three months from that date. This was indeed bad and most unexpected news for me, but I endeavoured to make the best of it, consoling myself with the hope of getting employed again as soon as possible by an appointment to some other regiment, and in this mind I returned soon afterwards to London, determined to see what chances I had at the Horse Guards. After waiting some time I attended the levÉe of the Military Secretary, Lieut.-General Sir Henry Torrens, and stated my case, and my anxiety to be employed. He received me with his usual consideration and kindness, and directed me to write to him on the subject. I did so in due course, and soon received his answer saying that on my stating my readiness to proceed to Sierra Leone I should be appointed to a company of the 2nd West India Regiment. I immediately wrote back saying that my health was still very indifferent, from my services in the West Indies, but that rather than forfeit all hopes of employment I would proceed to Sierra Leone, should his Royal Highness the Commander-in-Chief wish me to do so. This was a decision forced on me, and anything but satisfactory to my feelings, so with fear and trembling I watched every succeeding gazette which appeared for the next month, expecting to see myself appointed to the 2nd West India Regiment, but to my joy no such notice appeared then or afterwards, and I again began to breathe freely and hope for something better.

Months of idleness passed in London, and as I was afraid to appeal again to the Horse Guards for a time, I determined to go at once to France to study the language, for I well remembered how much inconvenience I had suffered while in the French island of Guadeloupe from not being able to speak French fluently. Fortunately, at this time I was in correspondence with a dear friend and brother officer, Lieutenant Wharton of the York Chasseurs, and I persuaded him to accompany me to France. Having made our arrangements, we left London early in 1820 for Southampton, where we took our passages in a sailing mail packet for Jersey, and from thence to St. Malo in Brittany, and there, for the first time, I found myself in “la belle France.” Next morning we went up the St. Malo river, in a passage boat, for about twenty miles to Dinan, and having procured good lodging, we remained there for nearly a month, then started on foot, determined to make easy stages in the same way until we reached Nantes. After our second day’s travelling we found ourselves tired and done up, so we rested a day, and on the following morning took our seats in the diligence direct for Nantes. Here we managed to get most comfortable lodgings with a widow named Fleury and her two pretty daughters, who provided us with our breakfast in our own English fashion. We became members of a most excellent table d’hÔte, where we met many French officers belonging to the regiment then in garrison, and with whom we soon became intimate, for we told them we were officers, and had had the honour of having been opposed to them.

In February, 1821, I returned to London, stopping for a few days en route with a friend at Boulogne-sur-Mer. This was Dr. McLaughlin, whom I knew in Portugal as a staff assistant-surgeon, who attended me while sick at Lisbon. His name being now before me, reminds me of him as a gay young fellow who, one morning at Lisbon, went to visit another assistant staff surgeon named McDermot, who was not at home when he called, but he saw his landlady, a handsome young widow, and, if the account be true, he attempted to kiss her; at least, so she told her lodger on his return home. McDermot at once called on McLaughlin and begged him to make her an apology. This he refused, saying he took no improper liberties, and saw no necessity whatever for an apology, and laughed at the very idea of being asked to make one. They were good friends and spoke and argued at first as such, but soon they both got very angry and excited, and McLaughlin, having a whip in his hand, forgot himself, and actually struck the other more than once with it, and then told him he was ready to give him any satisfaction he required. Dr. McDermot then left him, and McLaughlin came to me and told me the whole story, and that he, of course, expected a challenge at once, and begged I would go out with him, as his friend.

I was then lying in bed, far from well, but I consented on the understanding that he would allow me to use my own discretion in all and every way. While we were talking, the hostile message was brought by an officer, an Irishman, whom I found very stubborn and unreasonable then and afterwards; we talked over the affair, and I used my best endeavours to try and bring the matter to an amicable conclusion, admitting that my friend had committed himself most seriously, and was truly sorry for what he had done, and was ready and anxious to make the most ample apology; but the Irishman would not hear of anything less than a meeting, and said that nothing less would satisfy his friend or himself. It was finally settled that they should meet at a given place next morning, and with this understanding the obstinate Irishman left me. I now sent for McLaughlin and told him all that had passed, and that he must be prepared to go with me at the appointed hour next morning. He was quite cool and collected, and then left me, as he said, to arrange his papers and settle his affairs. He afterwards told me he was so employed during the best part of the night, and he also gave me certain instructions in case of anything happening to him. We kept our engagement punctually, and we found the others waiting for us with a medical man in attendance. After some talk and a toss up, it fell to my lot to measure the ground (twelve paces), to see the principals into their places, and to give the word or signal to fire; but I had previously told McLaughlin to allow McDermot to fire first, then to fire his own pistol in the air, thus showing he had given his adversary the chance to shoot him, and by this action admitting himself to be in the wrong; all this my friend agreed to, and promised to do.

When they had taken their places I asked, “Are you ready?” and on being answered “Yes,” I said, “Present,” and so kept them for a few seconds, when I dropped my handkerchief as the signal to fire. McDermot fired and missed my friend, who instantly afterwards fired his pistol in the air. I stepped forward to McDermot’s friend and said, “Gentlemen, I hope you are satisfied?” The Irishman answered, “Certainly not, they must go on.” I endeavoured in vain to convince him that the rules of honour were satisfied, that his friend had had the chance of shooting mine, and that mine had fully acknowledged himself in the wrong by firing his pistol in the air. Dr. McDermot appeared to agree with me, but said he must leave all to his second; but the Irishman became more and more excited, and said he could not be satisfied until they had another shot or two. I then said, “Well, sir, it must be you and I to go on, for I cannot suffer these gentlemen to go any further; so come on.” This worked a marvellous change, and my brave Irish boy soon became cool and reasonable; finally, we all shook hands and returned to Lisbon, and had a comfortable breakfast together in a cafÉ. This was the first and only duel I ever was concerned in, and yet in my early days duels and hard drinking were frequent evils, and considered by many to be both necessary and unavoidable.