FOOTNOTES:

“We cooked the remaining meat we had by broiling it; and all ate hearty of this and someember cakes we the day before made. All rested under the shade; for we were tolerably fatigued. It was here that Mary, the native girl, told us about Howe: she said that she first saw him at Hobart Town, where he was a crown servant to Mr. Ingle, and she a servant to another settler there: she was then only seventeen years of age, and really must have been a very good-looking young girl, for a sort of a black as she was. Howe got the better of her so, that he prevailed upon her to let him into the house to rob her master, and then elope with him to the woods. He was very kind to her, she said, whenever he was successful; but if anything crossed his temper, he was like a tiger; and then, neither she nor his men would go near him until his passion cooled. He was jealous of this girl; and Edwards—one of the gang—after they had robbed Captain Townson, gave Mary a shawl, which was part of the booty; when Howe drew his pistol deliberately, and shot him. He also killed another of his gang, Bowls, for merely firing a blank shot over his head: he deliberately tied his hands and feet first, then put the pistol tohis head and fired: this he did on Salt-pan Plains. None of the men dared remonstrate with him; for he always was armed with three or four pistols ready loaded; and he often used to impress upon his gang, that every leader should be obeyed in whatever he ordered—that no murmurs should be heard; and always concluded his remarks on such subjects by a terrible oath—that life was nothing to him, and if they did not like his conduct, they might try it with him in any way they wished; ‘but,’ said he, ‘Iwillshoot any of my men if I think they deserve it.’ She said that he was very revengeful: he sat on one of the hills of thick wood, which rise one above the other and overlook Hobart Town, one night with Mary beside him, smoking and drinking, and more merry than ever she knew him to be, because he was to have satisfaction of Mr. Humphries, and Mr. Reardon the constable. Collyer was with him that night; and while she was telling us about the affair, he often set her right on little points, which she had forgotten. She said, that they sat in their hut, looking out over the hills below them, and the town, and the plains: they could just discern the houses throughthe closing twilight. As it grew dark, and the view was lost, Howe filled his goblet, and exclaimed, ‘Now, Collyer, we want light; here’s success to the hand that will give it to us.’ Collyer drank the toast, and Mary got up to strike a spark in the tinder, when Howe laughed loudly, and seizing the girl by the arm, he replied, ‘Sit down, Mary—don’t trouble yourself; Whitehead is lighting a match for us.’ She did not understand him, for Whitehead, she knew, was gone down, with the rest of the gang, to the low lands. ‘Look out,’ said he: ‘now do you see the light?’ The girl looked as he desired her:—so did Collyer and himself; and they beheld a tremendous flame, at two different points below, which threw a glare all over the plain. ‘There,’ said Howe, ‘these fires have cost a pretty penny:—that is all the corn that Humphreys reaped this season; and that, near it, is the last of Reardon’s property.’ Then said he to Collyer, ‘My boy, a toast:—Here’s success to the Bushman’s tinder-box, and a blazing fire to their enemies!’—I remember that Collyer smiled when Mary recited this before him.”

[“Well, by the powers!” observed CorporalO’Callaghan, “I never hard o’ such a divil as that same Misther Howe. What counthryman was he?”]

“A Yorkshireman: he was born at Pontefract in 1787, entered the merchant service at Hull, and then became a man-o’-war’s man; but he deserted, and robbed a miller; for which he was transported. Captain Cross of theIndefatigable, brought him out to Van Diemen’s Land: before he sailed, he tried to escape by jumping from the main deck over the vessel’s side; and Captain Cross said that he swam a quarter of a mile before he was retaken.”

[“Well, did you bring in your prisoners safe,” demanded Sergeant Dobson.]

“Yes,” replied old Worral; “we lodged them in Hobart Town jail, and they were both gibbetted along with Whitehead, Brown, and M’Guire.”

[“And was Howe ever taken?”

“I’ll tell you the end of the villain.”

“Stop,—come to the end o’thatfirst,” said O’Callaghan, handing old Worral the horn goblet.]

Worrel proceeded:—“After this, Howe havingseparated from his few remaining associates, had art enough to obtain pardon from the governor, by humbling to him, and offering not only to give himself up, but to engage in annihilating the remaining bush-rangers. He was absolutely at large in Hobart Town—or at least, only accompanied by a constable—awaiting his pardon; and every body looked upon him as reformed, when he slipped off from his keeper, and took to his old habits: but he did not join any others; he wandered about alone, without any communication with mankind, except when necessity drove him to plunder an unguarded settler: totally shut out from man, he lived the sole occupier of an immense tract of the most beautiful country, as yet untrodden by any human foot but his; for the part he selected was the distant and unknown lands: there would he wander while his powder and shot lasted, and then return to replenish his stock by plunder, committing the most wanton acts of atrocity.

“There was a determined fellow of the name of Slambow, who took care of sheep for a Mr. Williams, of Hobart Town: he lived on his land inthe neighbourhood of New Norfolk: this man had frequently been accosted by Howe in his rambles, and for aught we knew, did little jobs for him, as much out of fear as love. Howe had now gone to this Slambow, to request him to carry a letter to the Governor; and the request having been complied with, an appointment was made between them to meet at an unfrequented place the following Friday, at sunrise. Slambow, in the meantime, met with a runaway, called Watts, who had been wandering about New Norfolk, and they united in a plan to take Howe when he came to give his letter. Watts was tired of his ranging life, and hoped for pardon, as well as a passage to England, if he captured him. The appointed spot was on the banks of the Derwent river; and Watts took a boat on the Thursday night, and went close up to it; when concealing his boat, he lay himself in a close thicket for the night, to await the coming of Howe and Slambow. A little before sunrise Watts arose from his lair and proceeded to fulfil his appointment, he met Slambow, who then informed him that he was to meet Howe at a place about half a mile away,calledLong Bottom: Watts requested Slambow to hide his gun where he could find it on their return, because he said Howe might object to come to them, if he saw him armed—as to Watts being armed, Howe knew he was a Bushman, and would not suspect any thing wrong: this was done, and they proceeded to Long Bottom, where they arrived just as the sun was rising. I saw this very place, myself—it is a wide plain near the river, but skirted by abrupt mountains; here and there it is spread with bushes and trees, and in the centre is a creek or nook of the river. When they had come within about a hundred yards of this creek, Slambow hallooed loudly; and at the signal Howe appeared. As soon as he saw them, he requested Watts to shake the priming out of his gun, and offered to do the same himself: this was accordingly done by both, and they walked together conversing on different matters, when Howe proposed to light a fire and have some breakfast: this was agreed upon—the wood was collected, and set fire to—the haversacks opened—and they were apparently about to enjoy a Bushranger’s breakfast, when Watts, who was a strongman, came behind Howe—threw him down—and there held him while Slambow tied his hands.

“Having secured their prey, they sat down to their breakfast; and after having finished their meal, set out for Hobart Town. They had not gone more than eight miles when Howe, who had found means to loosen the cords on his hands, drew a knife and stabbed Watts, who fell from the blow, and dropped his gun. Slambow was below a bank, and thus prevented from seeing what Howe had done; nor did he suspect until he heard Watts groan, and saw Howe presenting a gun at his breast. The next moment he was dead; for Howe fired and shot him. Watts then cried out to Howe, ‘Have you shot Slambow?’ to which Howe replied that he had, and that he would serve Watts the same way as soon as he could load his gun. Upon this Watts got up and ran about two hundred yards, the blood trickling from his side as he ran: here he fell and lay for a short time, being overcome by loss of blood. Howe did not follow him, fearing an alarm from the shot he had fired; but took his way back to the wilds, happy to have yet that resource from the gallows. Watts crawled to a settler’shouse, and was conveyed to the hospital, where he gave an account of the affair, and soon after expired. The inquest on both bodies brought a verdict of wilful murder against Michael Howe.

“This last violence threw the people into consternation, and an additional sum was offered for Howe, dead or alive; for he was now the only Bush-ranger abroad, and his fall most probably would put an end to that system of murder and robbery, which paralyzed trade, and terrified every inhabitant of the settlement.

“I was now determined to make a push for the capture of this villain; for which I was promised a passage to England in the next ship that sailed, and the amount of the reward laid upon his head. I found out a man of the name of Warburton, who was in the habit of hunting kangaroos for their skins, and who had frequently met Howe during his excursions, and sometimes furnished him with ammunition. He gave me such an account of Howe’s habits, that I felt convinced, we could take him with a little assistance. I therefore spoke to a man of the name of Pugh, belonging to the 48th regiment—one whom I knew was a mostcool and resolute fellow; he immediately entered into my views, and having applied to Major Bell, his commanding officer, he was recommended by him to the Governor, by whom I was permitted to act, and allowed to join us; so he and I went directly to Warburton, who heartily entered into the scheme, and all things were arranged for putting it into execution. The plan was thus:—Pugh and I were to remain in Warburton’s hut, while Warburton himself was to fall into Howe’s way. The hut was on the banks of the river Shannon, standing so completely by itself, and so out of the track of any body who might be feared by Howe, that there was every probability of accomplishing our wishes, and ‘scotch the snake,’—as they say—if not kill it. Pugh and I accordingly proceeded to the appointed hut: we arrived there before day-break, and having made a hearty breakfast, Warburton set out to seek Howe: he took no arms with him, in order to still more effectually carry his point; but Pugh and I were provided with muskets and pistols.

“The sun had been just an hour up, when we saw Warburton and Howe upon the top of a hill,coming towards the hut. We expected they would be with us in a quarter of an hour, and so we sat down upon the trunk of a tree, inside the hut, calmly waiting their arrival. An hour passed, but they did not come; so I crept to the door cautiously and peeped out—there I saw them standing, within a hundred yards of us, in earnest conversation: as I learnt afterwards, the delay arose from Howe’s suspecting that all was not right. I drew back from the door to my station; and in about ten minutes after this we plainly heard footsteps, and the voice of Warburton;—another moment, and Howe slowly entered the hut—his gun presented and cocked. The instant he spied us, he cried out, ‘Is that your game?’—and immediately fired; but Pugh’s activity prevented the shot from taking effect, for he knocked the gun aside. Howe ran off like a wolf. I fired, but missed. Pugh then halted, and took aim at him, but also missed. I immediately flung away the gun, and ran after Howe. Pugh also pursued—Warburton was a considerable distance away. I ran very fast—so did Howe; and if he had not fallen down an unexpected bank, I should not have been fleet enough for him:—thisfall, however, brought me up with him;—he was on his legs, and preparing to climb a broken bank, which would have given him a free run into a wood, when I presented my pistol at him, and desired him to stand: he drew forth another, but did not level it at me. We were about fifteen yards from each other—the bank he fell from between us. He stared at me with astonishment; and, to tell you the truth, I was a little astonished at him; for he was covered with patches of kangaroo skins, and wore a long black beard—a haversack and powder-horn slung across his shoulders. I wore my beard also—as I do now; and a curious pair we looked like. After a moment’s pause, he cried out, ‘Black beard against grey beard, for a million!’—and fired:—I slapped at him; and, I believe, hit him; for he staggered; but rallied again, and was clearing the bank between him and me, when Pugh ran up, and with the butt end of his firelock knocked him down again, jumped after him, and battered his brains out, just as he was opening a clasp knife to defend himself.

“This was the fate of the last and most ferocious of the Bush-rangers—a villain, who neverwas known to have done an act of humanity, and who had coolly murdered numbers of his fellow-creatures.”

[“Well; did you get the reward, for ridding the world of the rascal?” demanded Sergeant Dobson.]

“Yes; the reward was divided amongst Pugh, Warburton, and myself; but we got subscriptions from the settlers, to twice the amount; and I was sent home free, with the thanks of the Governor and the public.”

[“By my soul, you desarved all you got,” said Corporal O’Callaghan. “Did you carry the fellow’s body with you?”]

“No; we buried the body, but took off the head and brought it to Hobart Town, where it was exhibited to the crowd—and no wondering wild beast ever excited more curiosity. We found in his haversack a sort of book made of kangaroo skin, and his dreams written in it with kangaroo blood. There was also a memorandum of what seeds and plants he wanted, in case he established a secure residence for himself in the wild country.”

“By George! he was the most extraordinaryfellow, exceptThree Fingered Jack, that ever I heard of,” said Dobson.

“Oh, he was the broth of a boy!” observed the Corporal.—“And have you lived long in Ireland?”

“Ever since my return from Van Diemen’s Land—that may be about fifteen years. I told you that I was born in this country, but left it very young: however, when I returned I found my only relations were a niece and her daughter; so I took them to keep my cabin for me—where we live, thank God, very comfortably.”

“What’s your grand-niece’s name?” demanded Jack Andrews.—

At this moment the officer of the rounds challenged, and the guard turned out. The night was now clear—the weather calm—so Old Worral took his parting drop from the Corporal, and trudged on towards his cabin.

As the regiment to which the guard belonged was to march at daylight, having the day before received orders to proceed to Plymouth, and there embark for Portugal, little was talked about in the guard-house after the old man went away, butthe parting with acquaintances, and the forthcoming campaign in that country where they had so long toiled.

At half-past five they marched from Ballycraggen guard-house to the main street in the little town, where the regiment was already forming, and the baggage packed on fifteen or twenty cars—all pressed the day before for this service. The route had arrived very unexpectedly, owing to the invasion of Portugal by the rebel chief, the Marquis de Chaves, and the consequent energy and decision of Mr. Canning in sending out assistance to that country; on this account no regiment relieved that stationed at Ballycraggen, and the guard-house was now deserted; the old oak chair in which the sergeant of the guard usually sat, and the wooden forms, were removed—nothing remained to inform the accidental visitor of the cottage, that it once was a military occupation, but the names of sundry soldiers, and the description of theirrank, delineated on the wall by a burnt stick.

Early as the hour was, the townspeople were all up, and waiting to see the regiment march off.The glass—the parting glass—of strong whisky was doing its duty briskly; the officers were bustling about; the soldiers wives sorrowful enough, mounted on the baggage, with their children—many of them were to be left behind the regiment on embarkation, and none of them knew which. Little groups were here and there detached from the ground on which the regiment was to form, generally composed of soldiers and a few of the people with whom they had been on habits of intimacy. Several couples of lovers stood interestingly conversing, or in melancholy silence: among these was a young soldier and a remarkably pretty girl—she was weeping, while he held her hand and endeavoured to sooth her almost breaking heart. This was Jack Andrews and this his sweetheart to whom he was betrothed:—they were to have been married in a few weeks, when the route came which was now about to separate them for a considerable time—if not for ever. Her mother now came up to her, and although evidently affected at her daughter’s situation, put on an appearance of gaiety which only made things worse. Andrews loved the girl, and it is but just to sayshe was worthy of his most tender regard: all the town, as well as the regiment, knew of their attachment. The girl had two hundred pounds fortune. Jack Andrews was to have purchased his discharge, and to have settled in Ireland, along with Ellen Hart (that was her name). All her friends highly approved of the match; for Jack was as amiable and as good-looking a man as any in the regiment to which he belonged. Corporal Callaghan, having dispatched his own affairs with those numerous acquaintances which a fellow of his peculiarly pleasant and sociable qualities must naturally possess, when domiciled for a very considerable time in an Irish country town, now came up to Andrews, and tapping him on the shoulder, exclaimed, “Blood an’ ouns! Jack, my boy, I’m sorry Ellen Hart is not coming along with us. Can’t you ax her mother, there, to let her go?—Ellen, give us your hand. By the powers! if I had such another as you, I’d have you up at the top o’ the baggage, there, with Mrs. Mullowny, in a jiffy. The divil a toe you should stay behind me.”

Andrews smiled and sighed; Ellen’s tears onlyfell faster, and her mother was about to reply, when her attention was arrested by another object. “Here,” said she, “is my uncle—poor old man! he hasn’t seen you this whole year, Ellen; so don’t be so sorrowful-looking.”

The uncle advanced—it was Old Worral; and the astonishment which Andrews felt at finding him the grand-uncle of his Ellen may be imagined. Things were briefly explained; and the veteran, seizing the hand of Andrews as well as that of Ellen, exclaimed, “I see you are a couple that ought not to be separated; but I know what the service is—no woman can be certain of permission to embark with her husband; therefore you must be patient, and hope to be united soon. Young man, you are going to a foreign country, to meet the dangers of the field, and I am on the verge of the grave—we may or may not meet again: but here, before we do part, let me, in the presence of her mother, give you my consent to marry my dear Ellen. I see you are a good young man, and she is worthy of you—she loves you, and, from what I hear, I have no doubt you love her;—there; I give her to you, and two hundredpounds,—the savings of a long life. If you return safe from Portugal, and marry my dear little Ellen—if you both come happily together, and that it please God to put me under ground before that time—all I ask is, that you drink poor Old Worrel’s health, and be kind to Ellen Hart.”

“That I will,” said Andrews, as he took up his musket, which he had placed against a tree—for the regiment was ordered to fall in, the drums were beating, and the parting word passing from many. After an instant’s pause, he took the hand of the old man, and with great emotion said, “O! take care of her,” then pressed once more his Ellen to his breast: neither he nor she spoke a word—they could not; but their hearts beat closely together, and right well understood each other. The old man and the mother of the girl stood gazing sorrowfully; and even O’Callaghan’s eyes were about to betray him into weakness. The lovers separated; and with the blessing of the old soldier and his niece, Jack Andrews and the Corporal hastened to fall into the ranks. All was now ready—the commanding officer gave the word “Quick, March!”—the band struck up “The girlI left behind me,”—and with three huzzas from the crowd, the gallant soldiers marched off from Ballycraggen, to take, once more, the field against the enemies of their country.

THE END.

LONDON:PRINTED BY S. AND R. BENTLEY, DORSET STREET.

⁂The interesting music for which the songs of this work were written, is preparing for publication, with the words attached thereto; and will shortly be ready for delivery at the music shops.

FOOTNOTES:1The technical term for a particular movement in the art of Irish village dancing.2It is very common for the wounded to cheer their more fortunate comrades as they pass on to the attack. The most remarkable occurrence of this description took place at the battle of Vimiera, five days after the battle above described. A man of the name of Stuart, the piper belonging to the 71st regiment, was wounded in the thigh very severely, at an early period of the action; and having refused to be removed, he sat upon a bank, playing martial airs during the remainder of the battle. He was heard to address his comrades thus:—“Weel, my bra’ lads, I can gang na’ longer wi’ ye a fightin’, but Deel burn my saul if ye shall want music.” For this the Highland Society justly voted him a handsome set of pipes with a flattering inscription engraved upon them.3Men under sentence of court-martial were allowed the option of either suffering the sentence, or volunteering to serve on the coast of Africa.4Such articles as sugar, wine, sago, &c., are termed medical comforts.5Conquer or die.6This valuable officer was soon after killed in the trenches before St. Sebastian.7While this General was observing the attack of the storming party, a cannon-ball struck the bottom of the hill, and rolled at a moderate pace, close to his feet.8The author of “the Subaltern,” says that the day the town was taken, was dark and tempestuous: the morning, perhaps, might have begun so; but from nine o’clock, it was to my recollection a sunny and delightful day. However, I agree with him when he says that the weather was bad, the day Soult attempted to push across the Bidassoa, to relieve San Sebastian—I know that the Portuguese who were ordered from the siege, to assist in opposing him, were wetted through just as they started; but I think this was not on the day of storming the town.9The author of the “Subaltern” has gone too far in heightening the horrors of the siege, by stating that it was burnt; his words are “long before midnight it was one sheet of flame, and by noon on thefollowingday, little remained of it except its smoking ashes.” I walked about the town many times on thefollowing day, but saw no marks of fire; perhaps the town wassubsequentlyburnt.10The prepared skin of a pig, in which the Spaniards transport the wine from one place to another.11The author of this little sketch has had the account of the circumstances related in it from the Benedict Colonel himself.12For the history of this melancholy occurrence, see Colman’sBroad Grins.13Since writing the above, diligent inquiry has been made into the family connexions of both, but the relationship could not be traced.14In this terrific storm between thirty and forty transports were lost, on board one of which were General Baron Bock and his gallant son.15Officers of the army, in the transactions which may require the interference of an agent, cannot be too much on their guard against a set of pretenders who prowl about the Horse Guards for “clients,” in order to lay them under heavy contributions. They are persons of neither substance nor character: their usual practice is to scrape acquaintance with military officers, and artfully learn their intentions regarding exchanging, promotion, &c., and positively promise to obtain their wishes. Thus they manage to draw money from the dupe, which he finds very hard to get back again. They generally pretend to be officers on half-pay; and some, I am sorry to say, are of that body.The best house decidedly for the half-pay or pensions to do business with, is Window’s, of Craig’s Court. It is a house of long standing—of wealth and respectability; and officers will there be certain of the most liberal treatment. Not only has he obliged the half-pay by advancing their quarterly stipend, but, in many instances, a much larger sum, without any indemnity, except the officer’s honour. In this respect, Mr. Window far exceeds Cox and Greenwood: the latter are very liberal: but their liberality is confined to the full-pay.16The human body is divided into the head, the trunk, the superior and inferior extremities.—Syst. of Anat.17O’Halloran, in his introduction to the history of Ireland, informs us that the great military hospital attached to the antient palace of Tara, was called “the house of the Sorrowful Soldier.”18A name of reverence given to fairies.19It was by some supposed that Collyer, the Bush-ranger, was the same who for several years terrified the people near Dublin by his robberies; but that is not the fact. Collyer, the Dublin desperado, was not transported.20A term given by the Bush-rangers to a dreary flat, called “Murderer’s Plains.” The following statement, sworn before A. W. H. Humphrey, Esq., Justice of Peace in New Norfolk, Van Diemen’s Land, mentions this; and as the statement shows very strongly the daring spirit of the Bush-rangers, I copy it.—It is from a daily journal, called “The Bengal Hurkaru.”“John Yorke being duly sworn, states—about five o’clock in the evening of November 27, (1816) I fell in with a party of Bush-rangers, about fourteen men and two women; Michael Howe and Geary were the only two of the gang I knew personally. I met them on Scantling’s Plains—I was on horseback; they desired me to stop, which I accordingly did on the high road—it was Geary that stopped me; he said he wanted to see every man sworn to abide by the contents of a letter. I observed a thick man writing, as I suppose, to the Lieutenant-governor. Geary was the man who administered the oath on a prayer-book, calling each man for that purpose regularly—they did not inform me the contents of the letter. Michael Howe and Geary directed me to state when I came home, the whole I had seen, and to inform Mr. Humphrey, the magistrate, and Mr. Wade, the chief constable, to take care of themselves, as they were resolved to take their lives, and to prevent them from keeping stock or grain, unless there was something done for them—that Mr. Humphrey might rear what grain he liked, but they would thrash more in one night, than he could reap in a year. They said they could set the whole country on fire with one stick. I was detained about three-quarters of an hour, during which time they charged me to be strict in making known what they said to me, and what I had seen. On my return from Port Dalrymple, I called at a hut occupied by Joseph Wright, at Scantling’s Plains; William Williams, and a youth, were there, who told me the Bush-rangers had been there a few days before, and forced them to a place calledMurderer’s Plains(which the Bush-rangers called theTallow Chandler’s Shop), where they made them remain three days, for the purpose of rendering down a large quantity of beef fat, which Williams understood was taken from cattle belonging to Stynes and Troy.”2121These people lost 150 head of cattle.

1The technical term for a particular movement in the art of Irish village dancing.

2It is very common for the wounded to cheer their more fortunate comrades as they pass on to the attack. The most remarkable occurrence of this description took place at the battle of Vimiera, five days after the battle above described. A man of the name of Stuart, the piper belonging to the 71st regiment, was wounded in the thigh very severely, at an early period of the action; and having refused to be removed, he sat upon a bank, playing martial airs during the remainder of the battle. He was heard to address his comrades thus:—“Weel, my bra’ lads, I can gang na’ longer wi’ ye a fightin’, but Deel burn my saul if ye shall want music.” For this the Highland Society justly voted him a handsome set of pipes with a flattering inscription engraved upon them.

3Men under sentence of court-martial were allowed the option of either suffering the sentence, or volunteering to serve on the coast of Africa.

4Such articles as sugar, wine, sago, &c., are termed medical comforts.

5Conquer or die.

6This valuable officer was soon after killed in the trenches before St. Sebastian.

7While this General was observing the attack of the storming party, a cannon-ball struck the bottom of the hill, and rolled at a moderate pace, close to his feet.

8The author of “the Subaltern,” says that the day the town was taken, was dark and tempestuous: the morning, perhaps, might have begun so; but from nine o’clock, it was to my recollection a sunny and delightful day. However, I agree with him when he says that the weather was bad, the day Soult attempted to push across the Bidassoa, to relieve San Sebastian—I know that the Portuguese who were ordered from the siege, to assist in opposing him, were wetted through just as they started; but I think this was not on the day of storming the town.

9The author of the “Subaltern” has gone too far in heightening the horrors of the siege, by stating that it was burnt; his words are “long before midnight it was one sheet of flame, and by noon on thefollowingday, little remained of it except its smoking ashes.” I walked about the town many times on thefollowing day, but saw no marks of fire; perhaps the town wassubsequentlyburnt.

10The prepared skin of a pig, in which the Spaniards transport the wine from one place to another.

11The author of this little sketch has had the account of the circumstances related in it from the Benedict Colonel himself.

12For the history of this melancholy occurrence, see Colman’sBroad Grins.

13Since writing the above, diligent inquiry has been made into the family connexions of both, but the relationship could not be traced.

14In this terrific storm between thirty and forty transports were lost, on board one of which were General Baron Bock and his gallant son.

15Officers of the army, in the transactions which may require the interference of an agent, cannot be too much on their guard against a set of pretenders who prowl about the Horse Guards for “clients,” in order to lay them under heavy contributions. They are persons of neither substance nor character: their usual practice is to scrape acquaintance with military officers, and artfully learn their intentions regarding exchanging, promotion, &c., and positively promise to obtain their wishes. Thus they manage to draw money from the dupe, which he finds very hard to get back again. They generally pretend to be officers on half-pay; and some, I am sorry to say, are of that body.The best house decidedly for the half-pay or pensions to do business with, is Window’s, of Craig’s Court. It is a house of long standing—of wealth and respectability; and officers will there be certain of the most liberal treatment. Not only has he obliged the half-pay by advancing their quarterly stipend, but, in many instances, a much larger sum, without any indemnity, except the officer’s honour. In this respect, Mr. Window far exceeds Cox and Greenwood: the latter are very liberal: but their liberality is confined to the full-pay.

The best house decidedly for the half-pay or pensions to do business with, is Window’s, of Craig’s Court. It is a house of long standing—of wealth and respectability; and officers will there be certain of the most liberal treatment. Not only has he obliged the half-pay by advancing their quarterly stipend, but, in many instances, a much larger sum, without any indemnity, except the officer’s honour. In this respect, Mr. Window far exceeds Cox and Greenwood: the latter are very liberal: but their liberality is confined to the full-pay.

16The human body is divided into the head, the trunk, the superior and inferior extremities.—Syst. of Anat.

17O’Halloran, in his introduction to the history of Ireland, informs us that the great military hospital attached to the antient palace of Tara, was called “the house of the Sorrowful Soldier.”

18A name of reverence given to fairies.

19It was by some supposed that Collyer, the Bush-ranger, was the same who for several years terrified the people near Dublin by his robberies; but that is not the fact. Collyer, the Dublin desperado, was not transported.

20A term given by the Bush-rangers to a dreary flat, called “Murderer’s Plains.” The following statement, sworn before A. W. H. Humphrey, Esq., Justice of Peace in New Norfolk, Van Diemen’s Land, mentions this; and as the statement shows very strongly the daring spirit of the Bush-rangers, I copy it.—It is from a daily journal, called “The Bengal Hurkaru.”“John Yorke being duly sworn, states—about five o’clock in the evening of November 27, (1816) I fell in with a party of Bush-rangers, about fourteen men and two women; Michael Howe and Geary were the only two of the gang I knew personally. I met them on Scantling’s Plains—I was on horseback; they desired me to stop, which I accordingly did on the high road—it was Geary that stopped me; he said he wanted to see every man sworn to abide by the contents of a letter. I observed a thick man writing, as I suppose, to the Lieutenant-governor. Geary was the man who administered the oath on a prayer-book, calling each man for that purpose regularly—they did not inform me the contents of the letter. Michael Howe and Geary directed me to state when I came home, the whole I had seen, and to inform Mr. Humphrey, the magistrate, and Mr. Wade, the chief constable, to take care of themselves, as they were resolved to take their lives, and to prevent them from keeping stock or grain, unless there was something done for them—that Mr. Humphrey might rear what grain he liked, but they would thrash more in one night, than he could reap in a year. They said they could set the whole country on fire with one stick. I was detained about three-quarters of an hour, during which time they charged me to be strict in making known what they said to me, and what I had seen. On my return from Port Dalrymple, I called at a hut occupied by Joseph Wright, at Scantling’s Plains; William Williams, and a youth, were there, who told me the Bush-rangers had been there a few days before, and forced them to a place calledMurderer’s Plains(which the Bush-rangers called theTallow Chandler’s Shop), where they made them remain three days, for the purpose of rendering down a large quantity of beef fat, which Williams understood was taken from cattle belonging to Stynes and Troy.”2121These people lost 150 head of cattle.

“John Yorke being duly sworn, states—about five o’clock in the evening of November 27, (1816) I fell in with a party of Bush-rangers, about fourteen men and two women; Michael Howe and Geary were the only two of the gang I knew personally. I met them on Scantling’s Plains—I was on horseback; they desired me to stop, which I accordingly did on the high road—it was Geary that stopped me; he said he wanted to see every man sworn to abide by the contents of a letter. I observed a thick man writing, as I suppose, to the Lieutenant-governor. Geary was the man who administered the oath on a prayer-book, calling each man for that purpose regularly—they did not inform me the contents of the letter. Michael Howe and Geary directed me to state when I came home, the whole I had seen, and to inform Mr. Humphrey, the magistrate, and Mr. Wade, the chief constable, to take care of themselves, as they were resolved to take their lives, and to prevent them from keeping stock or grain, unless there was something done for them—that Mr. Humphrey might rear what grain he liked, but they would thrash more in one night, than he could reap in a year. They said they could set the whole country on fire with one stick. I was detained about three-quarters of an hour, during which time they charged me to be strict in making known what they said to me, and what I had seen. On my return from Port Dalrymple, I called at a hut occupied by Joseph Wright, at Scantling’s Plains; William Williams, and a youth, were there, who told me the Bush-rangers had been there a few days before, and forced them to a place calledMurderer’s Plains(which the Bush-rangers called theTallow Chandler’s Shop), where they made them remain three days, for the purpose of rendering down a large quantity of beef fat, which Williams understood was taken from cattle belonging to Stynes and Troy.”21

21These people lost 150 head of cattle.

Transcriber’s Note:Obvious printer errors corrected silently.Inconsistent spelling and hyphenation are as in the original.

Obvious printer errors corrected silently.

Inconsistent spelling and hyphenation are as in the original.

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