JOTTINGS FROM MY SAIIRETASCH.

THE author of this volume was of a reputable family in Shropshire : he came to London in the early part of the century to seek his fortunes, first as a clerk, and then as a chronometer-maker's apprentice. An uncom- fortable home with his uncle-master, a flaming placard, and the eloquence of a recruiting-sergeant, induced him in 1806 to inlist in Elliott's Light Horse; and there he remained till about the year 1829. During this period he assisted at the retreat to Corunna, served through the latter part of the Peninsular war, and in the Waterloo campaign, besides doing duty in various "country quarters" in England and Ireland. By good con- duct aided by a fair education, he rose to the rank of Sergeant-major; but, finding hopes of further promotion very slight, and the prospect of solid benefit in an increased pension not worth the waiting for, he obtained his discharge while he must yet have been in the prime of life. The re- mainder of the Chelsea Pensioner's career is only indicated, but he seems to have settled in one of our Tropical Colonies ; where he was overtaken by a sudden reverse of fortune. To employ his mind and prevent it from brooding over its troubles, he composed these Jottings from My Sabre- tasch, by means of memory and a rough journal he had kept during his military days.

The events in which our sergeant-major was engaged have been told too frequently, in all modes and upon all scales, to admit much novelty of information either large or small ; and soldier-authors, writing nearer the time and with a fresher memory, have depicted in more graphic style the hardships and excitements of a campaign. The jottings, however, are real ; and they have the interest which attaches to biography. Better writers, with more of the character of" a genius" about them, have pub- lished their experience of military life in the ranks ; but we have not met with so respectable a private-soldier-author as this sergeant-major, according to the notions of respectability fifty years ago. Hence, the

Jottings front My Sabretasch gives a fair enough idea of what the army was to a "good character" during the period over which these re-

miniscences extend. They also abound with remarks on the economy of the service as regards the treatment of the private soldier; some of them just, but others rather narrow, and approaching the style of after-dinner disquisition.

The warlike descriptions are rather bald and disjointed ; as must ever be the case with mere subordinate observers, if they stick to truth or have not a very vivifying imagination—partly because a regimental man's sphere of view is limited—partly because there seems a good deal of what is ludicrous, vulgar, and merely physical, mixed up in a fight, whether large or small. Military "glory," like other things, requires distance to lend enchantment to the view. Vittoria, so far as our au- thor was engaged in it, appears a rather confused affair of cavalry lumping over ditches, forming, riding at the enemy, and then each man

attending to his own business ; which in the case of our author consisted in the capture of a couple of officers, who subsequently got away in the

confusion of another charge. From the glimpses he gives us, there seems to be a great want of method and management in the subordi- nate working even of an " affair" ; some corps not ready, or not in the right place; many doing what they ought not to do, or leaving undone what they ought to do ; and the upshot depending upon pluck and "opinion" both of one's self and one's adversary. A charge under the present Marquis of Anglesey during Moore's campaign is thus described.

"One of our night-marches was the very opposite of an agreeable one. It was bitterly and intensely cold; and, as far as I can judge, was conducted and cork- screwed throughout as it were by paths and narrow lanes, now choral, now a pied. Sometimes we had to lead our horses in single file even over a narrow bridge that daylight might have made one shudder to look upon. All was silent;

the stillness of night was only interrupted by the continuous pattering of the horses' hoofs upon the snow, the muffled clink (we were cloaked) of spur and scabbard, scabbard and spur, or an inner growl accompanied by a naughty word at the stumbling of man or animal on our uneven track.

"As the grey of morn dawned upon us, we seemed to emerge from our narrow path into more open ground. The silence hitherto maintained was now inter-

rupted by hammings, buzzing, whispering, and indistinct sounds of human voices. Then followed the words of command= Form divisions! Wheel into line A dark living mass was in front, not to be plainly distinguished by the eye: onward we rushed. Then followed a plunge—a crash—a clatter—hacking and hewing, and the devil to pay.

"Hard knocks indeed were given and received; and when the curtains of dark- ness were fairly withdrawn, frightful gashes and streams of gore were made

visible, as also other features consequent upon such a sharp rencontre. Horses galloping about sans riders, riders a pied running after their horses; the moans and tortures of the wounded, writhing in anguish from a cola and freezing atmo- sphere, the dying and the dead! "The onslaught and carving of the first coarse scarcely exceeded twenty minutes; and before we had re-formed, the head of a column was observed

shooting from the end of a street into the main road. A view halloo WAS pealed forth from hundreds of throats, and troops were knotting together for a second course.

"The troop to which I belonged, Captain D—'s, happened to be nearest the d6bouchement of the enemy. When a score or two had mustered, up galloped our Adjutant with his head tied up, and ordered chase to be given. Away we

went. The inequalities of the ground were masked by snow; and, dashing at what appeared a ridge of that fragile material, we were precipitated into a broad

ditch, not deep certainly, but siciently so to put us hors de combat for a few minutes. Saddles were ingloriously emptied, and men and horses rolled in the snow. My animal, anything but a plucky one, fell on his side, and pinned me to the earth for some seconds.

"Independent of local obstacles, our foe had too much the start of us, and lived to fight another day. Much was said at the time about that indispensable pro-

vision a reserve, which should never be lost sight of, but go hand in hand with a fight. The absence of such a force was in this case bitterly felt: all would as- suredly have been nabbed had such a force been available at the moment. It

can scarcely be imagined that such talented leaders as Lord Paget and Colonel Grant, who led us into the fight, would overlook so necessary a military precau- tion; and it was said, a squadron had been named as a reserve. All I know of the matter is what I gathered from a non-commissioned officer of the said squa- dron, which purported that all the efforts of the gallant leader to keep his men in check were powerless: follow their comrades they would, follow them they did, and they rushed on and participated in the glories of the morn."