Memoirs of the Extraordinary Military Career of John Shipp - Shipp John

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to work her. Never shall I forget the morning I saw the land. In the moment of joy I forgot all my miseries, and cast them into the deep, in the hope of future happiness. This is mortal man's career. Past scenes are drowned and forgotten, in the anticipation of happier events to come; and, by a cherished delusion, we allow ourselves to be transported into the fairy land of imagination, in quest of future joys—never, perhaps, to be realized, but the contemplation of which, in the distance, serves at least to soothe us under present suffering.

      When the view of land first blessed our sight, the morning was foggy and dreary. We were close under the land, and were in the very act of standing from it, when the fog dispersed, the wind shifted fair, and we ran in close to the mouth of Simon's Bay. The now agreeable breeze ravished our sickened souls, and the surrounding view delighted our dim and desponding eyes. Every one who could crawl was upon deck, to welcome the sight of land, and inhale the salubrious air. Every soul on board seemed elated with joy; and, when the anchor was let go, it was indeed an anchor to the broken hearts of poor creatures then stretched on the bed of sickness, who had not, during the whole voyage, seen the bright sun rising and setting—sights at sea that beggar the power of description. For myself, I jumped and danced about like a merry-andrew, and I found, or fancied I found, myself already a convalescent.

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      [6] According to Barrow, the ships bringing the other "experimental" boy-regiments to the Cape, suffered in like manner from "ship-fever." It affords a suggestive commentary on the transport-service of that time that the same ships, after they had been properly disinfected at the Cape, carried troops to Egypt without sickness.—Ed.

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      Simon's Town is situated on the bay which bears the same name, and contains many well-built houses. Here we were stationed for a short time; and, as the regiment was not restricted from going out, I soon commenced reconnoitring the localities of the neighbourhood, and was glad to find that there were a number of well-stocked gardens close to the barracks. A pound of meat (and that of the worst) and three-quarters of a pound of bread per diem, was but a scanty allowance for a growing lad. Indeed, I frequently managed to get through my three days' bread in one; but as we could get fish for a mere song, and as the gardens of our neighbours, the Dutchmen, supplied us with potatoes, we continued, one way or another, to fare tolerably well at this station.

      We were soon after moved to the station of Muisenberg, seven miles nearer to Cape Town, a post defended by a small battery, and the beach, in places of easy access, guarded by a few guns. The road from Simon's Town to Muisenberg sometimes runs along the beach, which is very flat, and on which the sea flows with gentle undulations; and, at others, winds round the feet of craggy hills, covered with masses of stone, which have the appearance of being merely suspended in the air, ready to be rolled down upon you by the slightest touch. On these hills whole regiments of baboons assemble, for which this station is particularly famous. They stand six feet high, and in features and manners approach nearer to the human species than any other quadruped I have ever seen. These rascals, who are most abominable thieves, used to annoy us exceedingly. Our barracks were under the hills, and when we went to parade, we were invariably obliged to leave armed men for the protection of our property; and, even in spite of this, they have frequently stolen our blankets and great-coats, or anything else they could lay their claws on. A poor woman, a soldier's wife, had washed her blanket and hung it out to dry, when some of these miscreants, who were ever on the watch, stole it, and ran off with it into the hills, which are high and woody. This drew upon them the indignation of the regiment, and we formed a strong party, armed with sticks and stones, to attack them, with the view of recovering the property, and inflicting such chastisement as might be a warning to them for the future. I was on the advance, with about twenty men, and I made a détour to cut them off from caverns to which they always flew for shelter. They observed my movement, and immediately detached about fifty to guard the entrance, while the others kept their post, and we could distinctly see them collecting large stones and other missiles. One old grey-headed one, in particular, who often paid us a visit to the barracks, and was known by the name of Father Murphy, was seen distributing his orders, and planning the attack, with the judgment of one of our best generals. Finding that my design was defeated, I joined the main body, and rushed on to the attack, when a scream from Father Murphy was the signal for a general encounter, and the host of baboons under his command rolled down enormous stones upon us, so that we were obliged to give up the contest, or some of us must inevitably have been killed. They actually followed us to our very doors, shouting an indication of victory; and, during the whole night, we heard dreadful yells and screaming; so much so, that we expected a night attack. In the morning, however, we found that all this rioting had been created by disputes about the division of the blanket, for we saw eight or ten of them with pieces of it on their backs, as old women wear their cloaks. Amongst the number strutted Father Murphy. These rascals annoyed us day and night, and we dared not venture out unless a party of five or six went together.

      One morning, Father Murphy had the consummate impudence to walk straight into the Grenadier barracks, and he was in the very act of purloining a sergeant's regimental coat, when a corporal's guard, which had just been relieved, took the liberty of stopping the gentleman at the door, and secured him. He was a most powerful brute, and, I am persuaded, too much for any single man. Notwithstanding his frequent misdemeanours, we did not like to kill the poor creature; so, having first taken the precaution of muzzling him, we determined on shaving his head and face, and then turning him loose. To this ceremony, strange to say, he submitted very quietly, and, when shaved, he was really an exceedingly good-looking fellow; and I have seen many a "blood" in Bond Street not half so prepossessing in his appearance. We then started him up the hill, though he seemed rather reluctant to leave us. Some of his companions came down to meet him; but, from the alteration which shaving his head and face had made in him, they did not know him again, and, accordingly, pelted him with stones, and beat him with sticks, in so unmerciful a manner, that poor Father Murphy actually sought protection from his enemies, and he in time became quite domesticated and tame.

      We soon bade farewell to Muisenberg, and marched to Wynberg, and were in camp for several months. Here we suffered dreadfully from the inclemency

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