Sketches From My Life | Page 5

honour to their country and the cause they were fighting for.
Very soon after we had disembarked I received what is usually called
my 'baptism of fire,' that is to say, I witnessed 'the first shot fired in
anger.' The Carlists were pressing hard on the Queen's forces, who
were returning towards the sea; it was of the greatest importance to
hold certain heights that defended San Sebastian and the important port
of Passagis.
The gallant marines (as usual to the front) were protecting the hill on
which Lord John was standing; the fire was hot and furious. I candidly

admit I was in mortal fear, and when a shell dropped right in the middle
of us, and was, I thought, going to burst (as it did), I fell down on my
face. Lord John, who was close to me, and looking as cool as a
cucumber, gave me a severe kick, saying, 'Get up, you cowardly young
rascal; are you not ashamed of yourself?'
I did get up and was ashamed of myself. From that moment to this I
have never been hard upon those who flinched at the first fire they were
under. My pride helped me out of the difficulty, and I flinched no more.
For an hour or so the battle raged furiously.
By degrees all fear left me; I felt only excitement and anger, and when
we (a lot I had to do with it!) drove the enemy back in the utmost
confusion, wasn't I proud!
When all was over Lord John called me, and after apologising in the
most courteous manner for the kick, he gave me his hand (poor fellow!
he had already lost one arm while fighting for his country), and said:
'Don't be discouraged, youngster; you are by no means the first who has
shown alarm on being for the first time under fire.' So I was happy.
It is not my intention to give in detail the events that I witnessed during
that disastrous civil war in Spain; suffice it that after much hard
fighting the Carlists were driven back into their mountains so much
discouraged that they eventually renounced a hopeless cause; and at all
events for a long period order was restored in Spain.
After serving under Lord John Hay for six or seven months, I was
appointed to another ship, which was ordered to my old station, South
America.
The captain of my new ship was in every sense a gentleman, and
although a strict disciplinarian, was just and kind-hearted. From the
captain downwards every officer was the same in thought and deed, so
we were all as happy as sand-boys. It was then that I began to realise a
fact of which before I had only a notion--namely, that discipline can be
maintained without undue severity, to say nothing of cruelty, and that
service in the navy could be made a pleasure as well as a duty to one's

country.
After visiting Rio de Janeiro, we were sent to the River Plate; there we
remained nearly a year, during which time several adventures which I
will relate occurred, both concerning my duties and my amusements.
I must tell my readers that from earliest boyhood I had a passionate
love for shooting; and, through the kindness of my commanding officer
while at Monte Video, I was allowed constantly to indulge in sport.
On one occasion my captain, who was a keen sportsman, took me with
him out shooting. We had a famous day's sport, filled our game bags
with partridges, ducks, and snipe, and were returning home on
horseback when a solitary horseman, a nasty-looking fellow, armed to
the teeth, rode up to us. As I knew a little Spanish we began to talk
about shooting, &c. &c.; then he asked me to shoot a bird for him (the
reason why he did this will be seen immediately). I didn't like the cut of
his jib, so rather snubbed him. However, he continued to ride on with
us, to within half a mile of where our boat was waiting to take us on
board. I must explain our relative positions as we rode along. The
captain was on my left, I next to him, and the man was on my right,
riding very near to me. All of a sudden he exclaimed in Spanish, 'Now
is the time or never,' threw his right leg over the pommel of his saddle,
slipped on to the ground, drew his knife, dashed at me, and after
snatching my gun from my hand, stuck his knife (as he thought) into
me. Then he rushed towards the captain, pulling the trigger of my gun,
and pointing straight at the latter's head; the gun was not loaded, having
only the old percussion caps on. (Now