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Sergeant Joseph Donaldson - Recollections Of The Eventful Life Of A Soldier

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This edition is published by PICKLE PARTNERS PUBLISHING - photo 1
This edition is published by PICKLE PARTNERS PUBLISHING - photo 2
This edition is published by PICKLE PARTNERS PUBLISHING www.picklepartnerspublishing.com
To join our mailing list for new titles or for issues with our books contact@picklepartnerspublishing.com
Text originally published in 1845 under the same title.
Pickle Partners Publishing 2013, all rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted by any means, electrical, mechanical or otherwise without the written permission of the copyright holder.
Publishers Note
Although in most cases we have retained the Authors original spelling and grammar to authentically reproduce the work of the Author and the original intent of such material, some additional notes and clarifications have been added for the modern readers benefit.
We have also made every effort to include all maps and illustrations of the original edition the limitations of formatting do not allow of including larger maps, we will upload as many of these maps as possible.
RECOLLECTIONS
OF THE
EVENTFUL LIFE OF A SOLDIER.
BY THE LATE JOSEPH DONALDSON,
SERGEANT IN THE NINETY-FOURTH SCOTS BRIGADE.
I will a round unvarnish'd tale deliver
Of moving accidents by flood and field,
Of hair-breadth scapes i the imminent deadly breach,
And with it all my travel's history.
Shakespeare.
The romance of real life certainly goes beyond all other romances.
Miss Edgeworth.
Contents
INTRODUCTORY NOTICE.
THE ensuing narrative, from its outset to its close in 1814, embraces a period of about twenty-one years, fifteen of which relate to the author's boyhood, and the remaining six to his career in the army. The only part of the soldier's story which begets a feeling of disappointment is its abrupt termination. The vicissitudes of his subsequent career might have formed an interesting, though melancholy, sequel to the present volume. The few particulars we have gathered refer chiefly to that period of his life.
While in Ireland in 1814, about a year previous to the conclusion of the narrative, the author married the individual of whom, under the name of Ellen McCarthy, he speaks in such high terms of admiration in the Scenes and Sketches. By this union he became the father of ten children, seven of whom died in early life. In 1815, he returned with his family to Glasgow, where he underwent various changes of fortune, more particularly adverted to in the narrative, which induced him to resume the uniform of a soldier. He accordingly embarked with his family for London, and enlisted in the service of the East India Company, in which he was soon promoted to the rank of recruiting sergeant. This occupation, while, contrary to his wishes, it imposed on him the duty of remaining in this country, afforded facilities for indulging those literary and scientific predilections which had distinguished him in the Peninsula; and he now endeavoured to turn them to advantage by the study of anatomy and medicine. Thus occupied, he remained in London, until, in 1817, he was removed to Glasgow, where he began and completed writing from memory the interesting Recollections which form the first portion of this volume, the proceeds of which enabled him still farther to prosecute his studies at the University, where, exchanging the tartan for the broadcloth, he mingled unobserved among the other students. In consequence of his great dislike to the revolting practices which at that time characterized the recruiting service, he applied to Captain William Marshall, Superintendent of the East India Company in Edinburgh, who, through the influence of Colonel Hastings, got him transferred to the situation of head-clerk in the Glasgow Military District Office, where he remained for some years. During this period, he completed, in rapid succession, the consecutive portions of his Eventful Life. In 1827, having procured his discharge, he was enabled, on the trifling proceeds of his literary labours, and by dint of severe economy and close application, to take the degree of surgeon. Shortly after wards, he removed to the town of Oban, in Argyllshire, where he continued to practise his new profession with as much success as a field so circumscribed would permit, till the year 1829, when, wearied with the proverbial drudgery of such a life, and anxious to give greater scope to his talents, he once more embarked for London, leaving his wife and children in Scotland. With manners and dispositions not framed in the world's school, it is scarcely matter of surprise that in such a place as the metropolis he failed to procure the employment he sought. He remained there several months, occasionally solacing his dreary hours with that species of literary composition which was his chief delight. Besides contributions to periodicals, he completed a work, entitled Life in Various Circumstances, which, had not the MS. been unfortunately lost with other property, on its way from France two years afterwards, might have precluded the necessity of this brief and imperfect notice. Unsuccessful in London, he proceeded to Paris, where, while attending the anatomical academies, he died in October, 1830, of pulmonary disease, at the early age of thirty-seven.
Edinburgh, March, 1838.
THE EVENTFUL LIFE OF A SOLDIER.
CHAPTER I.
I WAS born in Glasgow: my father held a situation in a mercantile house, that enabled him to keep his family respectable. I was the only surviving child, and no expense would have been spared on my education, had I been wise enough to appreciate the value of it; but, unfortunately for me, that was not the case. I had early learned to read; but novels, romances, and fairy tales, were my favourite books, and soon superseded all other kinds of reading. By this means, my ideas of life were warped from reality, and the world I had pictured in my imagination was very unlike the one in which I lived. The sober realities of life became tiresome and tasteless. Still panting after something unattainable, I became displeased with my situation in life, and neglected my educationnot because I disliked it; on the contrary, I was fond of learning, and used to form very feasible plans of study, wherein I omitted nothing that was necessary to form the accomplished gentleman. I could pleasingly, in imagination, skim over the whole course of literature, and contemplate my future fame and wealth as the result; but when I considered how many years of arduous application would be required, I was too impatient to put it into practice. I had acquired too great a facility in raising castles in the air, and embellishing them with my fancy, to submit to the drudgery of building on a more stable foundation. Thus, straining at shadows, I lost substantial good.
Amongst other books which fell into my hands, when very young, was Robinson Crusoe. It was a great favourite; and at that time I believe I would willingly have suffered shipwreck, to be cast on an island like his. An island to one's self, I thought, what a happiness! and I have dreamed for hours together, on what I would do in such a situation. I have often played truant to wander into the fields, and read my favourite books; and, when I was not reading, my mind was perfectly bewildered with the romantic notions I had formed. Often have I travelled eagerly to the summit of some neighbouring hill, where the clouds seemed to mark the limits of the world I lived in, my mind filled with an indescribable expectation that I would there meet with something to realize my wild ideas, some enchanted scene or other; and when I reached its summit, and found those expectations disappointed, still the next similar place had the same attraction. The sky, with the ever-varying figures of the clouds, was an inexhaustible field for my imagination to work in; and the sea, particularly those views of it where the land could not be seen from the shore, raised indescribable feelings in my breast. The vessels leaving the coast, thought I, must contain happy souls; for they are going far away,all my fancied happy worlds were there. Oh, I thought, if I could once pass that blue line that separates the ocean and the sky!then should I be content; for it seems the only barrier between me and happiness.
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