I am an officer in the English army, and always keep my
word.' A small band of Australians was in the cabin. One
and all of them applauded this laconic speech. It was
probably due in part to these that the offender did not wait
till the six minutes had expired.
Next day I congratulated my reserved friend. He was reticent
as usual. All I could get out of him was, 'I never allow a
lady to be insulted in my presence, sir.' It was his Queen,
not his cloth, that had roused the virility in this quiet
man.
Let us turn to another aspect of the deeds of war. About
daylight on the morning following our bombardment, it being
my morning watch, I was ordered to take the surgeon and
assistant surgeon ashore. There were many corpses, but no
living or wounded to be seen. One object only dwells
visually in my memory.
At least a quarter of a mile from the dead soldiers, a stray
shell had killed a grey-bearded old man and a young woman.
They were side by side. The woman was still in her teens and
pretty. She lay upon her back. Blood was oozing from her
side. A swarm of flies were buzzing in and out of her open
mouth. Her little deformed feet, cased in the high-heeled
and embroidered tiny shoes, extended far beyond her
petticoats. It was these feet that interested the men of
science. They are now, I believe, in a jar of spirits at
Haslar hospital. At least, my friend the assistant surgeon
told me, as we returned to the ship, that that was their
ultimate destination. The mutilated body, as I turned from
it with sickening horror, left a picture on my youthful mind
not easily to be effaced.
After this we joined the rest of the squadron: the
'Melville' (a three-decker, Sir W. Parker's flagship), the
'Blenheim,' the 'Druid,' the 'Calliope,' and several 18-gun
brigs. We took Hong Kong, Chusan, Ningpo, Canton, and
returned to take Amoy. One or two incidents only in the
several engagements seem worth recording.
We have all of us supped full with horrors this last year or
so, and I have no thought of adding to the surfeit. But
sometimes common accidents appear exceptional, if they befall
ourselves, or those with whom we are intimate. If the
sufferer has any special identity, we speculate on his
peculiar way of bearing his misfortune; and are thus led on
to place ourselves in his position, and imagine ourselves the
sufferers.
Major Daniel, the senior marine officer of the 'Blonde,' was
a reserved and taciturn man. He was quiet and gentlemanlike,
always very neat in his dress; rather severe, still kind to
his men.
