FIVE BROTHERS' FIVE FIXES.

Hawke's Bay Herald, Volume 12, Issue 971, 22 August 1868, Page 4

FIVE BROTHERS' FIVE FIXES.

(From Chambers' Journal.) PAET IV. — HARRY THE SOLDIER' S PIX. . Before I begin to lay before the reader the fix which our brother Hariy described to us as being the biggest he had ever met with, I would just mention that he had two little peculiarities—one of temperament, the other of habit. By temperament, he was most mercurial and excitable. Full of boisterous health,; he had, in early days, always been in mischief, more from the fun -, of the thing than from any wish to do what was wrong; and the same high spirits which in boyhood caused him to be the leader in many a scrape, and to be the foremost in bearing the brunt of the punishment thereof, were possibly the chief causes ofhis being honourably mentioned after Alma, and of his bearing ai name well known wherever Crimean deeds have been recited. More I must not say. Temple is an assumed name. Were I to write more' particulars about Harry and the Crimea, his real name would most certainly be. recognised. His ' peculiar habit was, that although he liked his glass of wine after a late dinner, and enjoyed his glass Of whatever was going at night) yet no power on earth could make him touch anything in the way of strong " drink before his late dinner. I have known him knocked up oh a march, dead-beat in a long" day's _ shooting", parched and fagged with- summer heat, blocked up for five or six hours in a snow-drift on the rail, seriously hurt by a fall out hunting ; but in these and similar cases, when the most temperate men would have thought a drop of something not only comfortable, but necessary,' ; he ; never took any stimulant. Let circumstances be ever so pressing, or temptations ever : so r great, Harry never touched anything stronger than tea or water • till a late dinner at six or seven. I will now give his tale in his own words : — I Was on miy road to join for the first time my regiment, which was then quartered at .Portsmouth.* There was to be a general y^rade at ten 'aJm. on Tuesday. At two . ;'; :<pVm.' the regiment was to embark for foreign ' parts. I ought to have been present at the parade'; but my kind-hearted colonel, who was indirectly acquainted with our family, wrote' to me and said, that as I might possibly be up rather late on my last night in England, and as, moreover, I could be of no use at the pai*ade, he would excuse my attendance there ; . but he added, in somewhat peremptory language, that no possible allowance could be made if I arrived at Portsmouth later than the one p.m. train ; that I must report myself at half-past one, and embark with the regiment at two o'clock. He also, I remember, said something about the regiment soon going into action abroad, and hinted . at commissions having been lost by circumstances so trivial as unpunctuality on the eve of real warfare. Well, it was about three p.m. on the Monday before the Tuesday I have alluded to ; I had made a very heavy lunch at New College, Oxford. The days then were those in which probably more strong and XXX ale were drunk in a week at that college than are now consumed in a month. Strong and XXX had figured at our lunch, likewise sherry and champagne. I was very jolly when I left Oxford on my road for London via Bletchley. Prom Oxford to . Bletchley Junction, I slept a little. When I arrived at the last-named place, I was obliged to change trains, and wait for the up-express, due in ten minutes' time. I had hot coppers (beg pardon, ladies ; I mean a somewhat parched mouth) after the champagne, XXX, and my sleep, so I went into the refreshment-room, and had some beer. I have no doubt ifc was nasty heady stuff, but it cooled my feverish mouth. Excited a little with my mid-day meal, and by nature inclined to argue, I got into some debate, I forget what, but I believe a political one; with some gentleman, who was, like me, refreshing himself. Distinctly do I remember a bell .being rung as a departing signal ;.' distinctly do I recollect the guard's voice sounding through the refresh-ment-room doors : 4 " Any more for the upexpress ?" but the words fell on my hazy ears slightly like Brother Ned's words when, in solemn language, he is laying down selfevident truths in his pulpit. — I. beg pardon, Ned ; ; the sequel will prove that you and the guard were right, I wrong for my inattention. ; Something— l know not what— suddenly made me think that my train, the express, was -starting— had started— was off. I rushed* on •to the platform. The express had started. ' The guard's box, the last in the train, had just cleared the station. I ran hard, and could easily and safely have jumped into the guard's van — not a second class carriage,, as on other lines, but a spacious. affair, open behind, into which any. tolerably active person could easily ' spring and find safety. A wretched porter or pointsman, tried to stop me ; swiftly dodging him,, l got ahead, and jumped on to the foot-board ofthe carriage just in front of the guard's, van. Now, in those days there was ho communication between guard and;engine-driver. In those days, too, . no one- carried, as most of you I daresay now do, a railway key. The doors of the carriage on the step of which I had jumped were locked. The train, an up-express, had pulled up at the dow m platform, possibly because there was a refreshment-room there. And so my fix was this. I was standing on the foot-board of an already very much swinging-carriage. The speed was rapidly increasing, and I could not get into it. There was not much chance of the enginedriver stopping to save "me, because, as I was on the off-side, ifc was not* likely I should be noticed as we came through the stations. t The guard crept along, not exactly'his .foot-board, for the guard's van was not made like the other carriages, but he stepped from point to point, and urged me, in. every way he could, to move from my platform to his carnage. J cowZcZ not— my nerves failed me. The train was getting into full swing— thirty, forty, sixty miles an hoiu*— -before I could make up my mind. The guard, entreating»me to hold tight, retreated to his den. From time to time, I saw his land face looking at me with outstretched neck, and his mouth speaking, no doubt, words of encouragement and caution. They never reached me, but were borne back by the wind Bletchley way. Hold on I did, with the grim clutch of a worse than drowning -man. One, and one only, male passenger was in the carriage on the foot-board of which I was riding. He did everything he could for me; tried to get me in through the window — a great failure; gave me brandy; passed a sash round my body, and held the two ends himself. On we sped. My head was dizzy and turning ; my hands were cramped and getting tired; my legs. almost blown off; -my hat quite so. I well remember the icy feel of the tunnels; the horrible earthy smell, mixed with a flavour of compressed steam; the drops of water falling from the roof on my uncovered head ; and oh ! the passing of trains 1 The first I met was in a tunnel ; I glued myself to the side of my - carriage.' The second was a luggage-train in the open. Would it never come to an . end? thought I; and yet I suppose we were only a few seconds passing it. The third, seemed to be a brother-expressi Ph'hsshttt IT thought I had been carried y off in its whirlwind, but awoke to a sense of /what wka by comparison safety, clinging yet 'more closely> with fast-dying .grasp, to .'the." /door-handle ; supported^ yet ' vmdriefirmly by the inside passenger and his /jcarf ; rushing thrpiigh vacant windy space

in the shape of cornfields and labourers ; no, a mill or two, and a man ; no, a station, where everybody's arms seem to be raised on high in horror; no — ugh I—another luggage-train. " More brandy," said my kind preserver. I drank it. Hurrah ! we are slackening specd — we have pulled up ! I half swoon : I find myself in the custody bf railway officials. lam accused of riding withW a ticket— of getting into the train when in motion ; lam threatened with being given in' charge. My head is young, and not oversteady after its railway gallop. Brandy, XXX, and sherry— good servants, but bad masters — assert thensway. I expected kindness ; I meet with coarse roughness: I expected congratulations ; I meet with threats. Is it any wonder that I get into a rage ? I believe I use strong language. I straggle to get free — I fight. The end is, I find myself in a sta-tion-house, in charge ofthe police. Wearied, worried, not drunk, but having been overexcited, and being overexhausted with my ride of death and its consequences, I fall asleep. It was about one o'clock a.m. when I awoke. I recollected everything. I was in a room with two or three dirty fellows, half drunk, half asleep, who had been taken up in some row. There was one betterlooking gentlemanly dressed man, who was as drunk as possible, lying on a form, and calmly and quite hopelessly surveying me with a very glassy, fishy-looking eye. I called for and saw the inspector, or headman at the station. He was very kind, but very firm. He would not hear of a bribe. On good substantial bail, he would let me out, but before the police magistrate I must appear at ten o'clock that morning. Where could I, a young unknown man, get bail at that time of night ? I sat down, elbows on my knees, head in my hands, and thought over matters. No doubt I took a somewhat gloomy view of things. My impressions were : Appearance as a criminal in the policecourt — shame of the thing — heavy fine, perhaps imprisonment — commission lost — report in the regiment that I was a coward, backing out when the time for active service had arrived — character gone. What could I do? Two o'clock, three, four, five: the well-dressed drunkard opposite awoke from his intoxicated slumber. He was clothed in a grey suit — I in dark brown ; he had a greatcoat — I had none ; he had a hat — mine had doubtless been picked up long ago. near Bletchley, and was laid by as the gala head-dress of some navvy. " Hollo 1" said I to the man opposite, ."who are you? What are you doing here ?" " I'll be hung if I can tell," said he on the spur of the moment. " But wait a bit— r-lpfc me collect my scattered thoughts. Yesterday, I was a medical student of Hospital, as no doubt I still am. Last evening, I attended a supper-party of a friend who had just passed his examination. I do not recollect getting into any row, but have no doubt I was picked up by the police, drank and insensible. I have now got a splitting headache. I shall be most likely fined five or ten bob by the beak, and get a lecture from him. About one o'clock, my stomach will recover its tone, and Richard will be himself again. There is my case. — Now, why are you here ?" he said. "I hardly know," I replied. "But wait a bit — let me think." I asked him if the police knew him, and what name he gave. " I have no more idea than you," he replied, "whether the Bobbies have the honour of being acquainted with me. I cannot tell whether I gave any name. If I was able to utter any articulate sounds, I am pretty sure to have informed them that I was Mr. John Smith"" I thought. "Mr. John Smith," said T, "we shall never meet again ; I neither mean nor wish to insult you. I have done nothing very criminal, and yet I am in a bigger mess than can probably be atoned for by a five or ten shilling fine. Pardon me, if I insult you by my proposal. If you will change clothes with me, and names and crimes, neither of us giving our real names, I will give you twenty pounds down, and run my chance of b^eing first placed at the bar." "All very well," said he ; "but supposing your offence is one likely to be punished heavily, and I am called up first, I should be in a mess." "0 no," I replied: "if you are called up first, I lose my game, and you still keep the money I give you, and take your own offence and your own punishment. If I am fortunately called up first, I givo your name, and pay your fine ; and you, when you are called up, will have no great difficulty in proving that you aro not I, and were not where I was yesterday." " All right ; done along with you," said he ; "but I hope you are not in for murder." We changed clothes while our companions were snoring. I paid him the twenty pounds. We were duly conveyed in the prison- van about half-past nine to the po-lice-court. I managed to get hold of some official, to give him a pound, and. to beg him to use all his influence to get John Smith, the drunken medical student's case, called on first, or very early. My bribe or bribes answered. For the first and last time, I trust, in my life, I stood in the dock. No sooner had I been placed there, than I afc once stated that I wished to plead guilty ; that I was very sorry for what I had done (I inwardly wondered what ifc was), that I had been overtaken by drink on a festive occasion, and so forth. The magistrate cut me short by saying lie was glad to see I was penitent, at the same time my offence must be punished ; that it was disgraceful for a gentleman of my position to be found drunk and incapable in the streets : that I must pay a fine of ten shillings, or go to prison for seven days. I need hardly add that I paid the fine at once, left the court directly, as fast as a hansom could carry me, hurried off* to the South-western Terminus. My ruse at the police-court must, I knew, be soon discovered, and though there was not much chance of my being found and taken up, yet I was veiy anxious to put as great a distance as I could between myself and the worthy magistrate and his subordinates. By some clever management, the case was kept oufc of the newspapers. I remember I anxiously scanned the police reports to see what had become of my prison acquaintance, Mr. John Smith, who, dressed in my clothes, was to stand in my shoes, and take on himself my offence, but I could learn nothing. It was not till a few years after, on my return to England, that I heard what had been the end of the matter. Feeling confident that I should not be recognised, I went to the same police-court, got into conversation with one of the officials, treated him to drink, and at length, without shewing an unusual interest in the stoiy, led him on to tell me how some years back there had been the rummiest go he ever knew in that court : how the wrong man had been fined for being what he had not been, namely, drank and incapable : how Mr. John Smith, when he was put in the dock, and charged with getting on a train in motion at Bletchley, ancl then assaulting the police at Euston Square Station, not only denied the fact, but forced the witnesses tb confess that he was not the man, and then, in the most impertinent manner, threatened to summon the police, the- witnesses, nay, even the magistrate

himself, if he was not dismissed with a gracious apology from all of them : how the police wero not a little put out ; &c. <( In fact, sir," he added, "it was the veryrummiest go." But to return to my story. — I left town by the first train I could, and as I was rushing down to Portsmouth, began to think over matters. I had certainly partly got out of my fix. I had escaped going to prison, and had been preserved from the shame of losing my commission because I had disgraced Her Majesty's service, and had been saved all tho worse than annoyance of a public exposure, and so forth. But even now my position was not an enviable one. It was nearly three o'clock. My regiment had embarked at two o'clock, and the unpleasant words of my colonel, as from time to time I again and again read his letter, made me feel veiy uncomfortable. My commission seemed to be anything but safe. However, after much calculation, I arrived at the conclusion, that though the regiment might have embarked, the vessel could hardly have sailed, and that I should be in time. Alas 1 two or three hours later, I stood on the pier at' Portsmouth, and saw the troop-ship Hiawatha, with every sail set and a fair wind, miles away from land. With a heavy heart, I turned away. What could I do ? As I walked along with downcast head, I suddenly received a volley of abuse, and became conscious that I had trodden on the gouty toes of some old naval captain. He did not speak mildly to me. He was not one of the new school, and he rated me with coarse language as if he had been on his own quarter-deck, and I had committed the most heinous offence imaginable. So rough was his tongue, that, under any other circumstances, I should have been fairly angry. As it was, it was a perfect chance whether I abused him or apologised. My good-for-tune prevailed. "I beg your pardon," I said; "I was too much occupied by my own miserable thoughts to see where I was going. Don't be too hard on a man that is down." And I walked away. "Come here, youngster," he roared. " Miserable thoughts, man that is down — what do you mean by that nonsense at your time of life ?" and then reading in my distressed countenance how really upset my mind was, he spoke most kindly to me, and said: " I suppose you have got into some scrape. I have a boy about your age ; I should be most thankful if any one helped him in a difficulty : tell me all about it." I did tell him all about it, merely suppressing what had happened in London. "Yes," he said, "you will lose your commission, to a dead certainty, if you do not catch that ship ; and even if you do catch her, you will probably be at once put under arrest. But cheer up; I will see what I can do for you. The vast probabilities are that, before twenty-four hours aro over, we shall have an extremely severe south-west gale. Very likely, the Hiawatha will be forced to put in at Plymouth. It so happens that at Plymouth I have great influence — much more than 1 have here. I am most intimately acquainted with the Port-admiral at Plymouth. You musfc get down to that town as fast as you can by posting and rail ; go at once to the Port-admiral, and give him a letter I will now write." In the letter, he begged his friend to have a lookout kept for the Hiawatha, and if within so many hours she did not put in to Plymouth, to send a steamer, and see if by any means she could meet with the troopship, and put me on board. The predicted gale came on in the course of a few hours. The Port-admiral at Plymouth not only received me most kindly, but gave me a letter to Colonel , which he said might do me good. To my great . delight, the Hiawatha was driven in to Plymouth by stress of weather. I need hardly say I lost no time in going on board. I did not report myself as Ensign Temple, but asking for Colonel , said: "Admiral begged me to give you this letter." He read it. "Come down to my cabin, Mr. Temple ;" and when there, he continued : " The letter you have given me from Admiral is one in which he begs that, as a personal favour to himself, I will not put you under arrest, but receive you favourably in every way, if I can do so consistently with my duty. You do not appear to me to deserve any kindness. I treated you with unusual favour in allowing you leave of absence up to the very last moment. In my letter to you, I told you in plain language what would be the consequence if you did not reach Portsmouth at the appointed hour. With plenty of time before you, and with certain results staring you in the face, you choose to absent yourself from your regiment for a longer period than you were allowed ; and, indeed, ifc is only by a mere chapter of accidents that you are able to join your regiment at all. Now, before I make up my mind what to do, tell me plainly and truthfully everything connected with your absence. Do not attempt to make excuses." I told him everything, merely respectfully requesting that he would keep my escapade quite secret. He attended to my tale, grew interested in my outside railway journey, and all but laughed at my police adventure. To cut my story short, I will give his parting words to me : " Mr. Temple, I had thought that probably dissipation or carelessness had detained you in town. For many reasons, I will take no notice whatever of what has happened. If I took any notice at all, it must be in a very serious way. Report yourself to the adjutant ; or perhaps I had better take you to him myself, and introduce you. Make what excuses you like to your brother-officers for your non-appearance ; and I will not exact a promise from you, but remember you have got into this scrape through drinking " " I was not at all drunk, sir," said I. "No, I never said you were, Mr. Temple ; but being by nature of an excitable temperament, you did that which you would not have done had you taken no beer, champagne, or sherry for lunch; and putting aside tho bodily risk you ran, you did that which might have cost you what you value probably more than life — I mean your good name. Now, my very strong advice to you, Mr. Temple, is this : Do not let any circumstances whatever lead you to drink anything strong before your dinner. I do not mean to imply that you are likely to get drunk ; but the silly habit of drinking on an empty stomach merely for drinking's sake — the silly habit of making two heavy dinners a day, when beer, sherry, and champagne aro drunk at lunch, may or may not injure others, but will probably load a person of your temperament to do in some moment of excitement that which you will all your life regret." " I promise, sir, to "— — "No, don't promise, Mr. Temple. You little know the temptations which, as a young officer, you will encounter. Don't promise, but ever remember my advice." Colonel sleeps in the Crimea ; he died in my arms. Admiral - — and Captain are also both dead. Of John Smith the medical student I know, nothing ; perhaps, when he reads tbis, be may claim my acquaintance. Most religiously have I kept my dear old colonel's advice. I can safely say, thafc in health, in pocket, in happiness, in every way I have prospered, save as regards my wounds — Harry glanced at his shattered useless arm — and to the last hour of my life, remembering my own early days and narrow escape, never, unless I am fully persuaded that he deserves it, will I be hard upon a youngster,