True Soldier Gentlemen (Napoleonic War 1) by Adrian Goldsworthy Read Free Book Online

persistence had secured him a post as junior clerk in the office of a shipping corporation.
    It was dull work, with lists of cargoes and delivery dates, of ships and their provisioning, of harbour fees and pilots’ fees, of sailors and their pay and allowances paid to families during a voyage, and always of timber, ropes, sailcloth and the myriad of supplies needed to keep vessels at sea. Hamish had felt his youth was slowly drowning under the weight of lists. Every day was the same, with the same petty rivalries and little jokes among the half-dozen leathery old men who worked in the office. Yet he was good at his job, temporary employment became permanent, and slowly, painfully slowly, his wages rose. The money helped the family, for as his sisters grew older his mother was intent that they should be dressed properly, and be able to attend decent functions in the hope of finding good, respectable husbands.
    Until he was twenty-one Hamish stayed in the office and dreamed of adventure and glory. Then one day he told his mother than he was resolved to be a soldier, and would enlist as soonas he could. He was not sure what he had expected. Not rage certainly, for his mother never showed so much emotion. There was disappointment, but no surprise, and he had readily agreed to the condition that he must wait until a suitable place could be found for him.
    Frances Williams had set about the task of securing an officer’s commission for her son with all of her usual determination and perseverance. In his youth Dr Campbell had been an assistant surgeon with a regiment, so she wrote letters to its present colonel, and to a pair of officers who had served at the same time and were now elderly and obscure generals. There was no response. In any case her choice would have been a Highland regiment, so she wrote to the colonels of these. Hamish’s father may have been a garrulous Welshman, but as far as his mother was concerned he was a Scot, and better than that, a Campbell. The commander of the 91st Foot replied with a polite letter explaining that there were no vacancies for ensigns at present, and unlikely to be for some time. The 93rd did not respond at all.
    Undaunted, she dispatched more letters to general after general, any whose address she could find, humbly (and that was something which did not come naturally to Mrs Williams) requesting a place for her son, a young gentleman of good education and sober character. It took years until finally a letter had arrived from Major General Sir Augustus Lepper, colonel of the 106th Foot, ‘The Glamorganshire Regiment’, informing Mrs Williams that although he could not offer her son a commission at this time, he would be glad to accept him in the regiment as a volunteer. It was less than she had hoped for, but that was something so familiar from her life. Mrs Williams showed no emotion when her son ‘went for a soldier’. She had agreed and that was that. He promised to write and to send them what money he could and she simply nodded, and let him kiss her on the cheek. His sisters provided tears and embraces enough to add drama to the scene, but when he thought back it was only his mother, standing straight and stern, that he remembered.
    Williams joined the 106th at the beginning of 1808. A fewweeks later another gentleman volunteer arrived and was sent to a different company, and Hamish did not come to know Mr Forde at all well, but the latter seemed to adapt more readily to the new life. For the army was not quite what Williams’ dreams had made it. The routine was dull, with day after day of drill. Unlike the officers who had their servants, he was expected to care for his own uniform, equipment and musket. He learned to polish his boots, the pair identical with no left and right. Veterans like Dobson changed them to the oppos foot at the end of each week to spread the wear. He learned the mysteries of pipe-clay, which whitened his cross-belts, and how to polish the brass