Belfast, although then a flourishing city, showed a great contrast to Glasgow in regard to the appearance of its population, although the gentlemen were as hospitable as possible, and most enthusiastic sportsmen, and, as I could ride a bit, I was soon at home among them. I was soon, however, ordered to Downpatrick, where my Company and two others were quartered. I was received by my dear old Regiment with every demonstration of affection, and spent a few months most happily at this little town of Downpatrick, among very amiable and kind people. The peasantry there were my delight, such light-hearted, kind creatures I never saw, and as liberal as primitive Christians. Not a day I had not sent me presents of eggs and butter, etc. It was painful occasionally to accept them, but as I saw that refusal created pain, I had no alternative. There were many of our old Light Division soldiers discharged and living in this neighbourhood, and every market day (Saturday) a re-enacting of old times was imposed on my patience. One, a noble soldier of the 43rd, celebrated every anniversary of a battle by getting gloriously drunk. On one occasion he was drunk without this exciting cause. I said, “Come, come, Murphy, this is too bad; to-day is no anniversary.” “Maybe not, your honour, but, by Jasus, there are so many it is hard to remember them all, and the life’s blood of me would dry up, if I missed the ‘cilibration’ of one of ’em—so it’s safest to get drunk when you can.”
1825-1828: HARRY SMITH ACCOMPANIES HIS REGIMENT TO NOVA SCOTIA—SIR JAMES KEMPT—HARRY SMITH PARTS WITH HIS OLD REGIMENT ON BEING APPOINTED DEPUTY QUARTERMASTER-GENERAL IN JAMAICA—HE HAS TO DEAL WITH AN EPIDEMIC OF YELLOW FEVER AMONG THE TROOPS—APPOINTED DEPUTY QUARTERMASTER-GENERAL AT THE CAPE OF GOOD HOPE.
Shortly after this, my Corps was ordered to embark at Belfast [30 July] for Nova Scotia on board three transports, the _Arab_, the [_Speke_[89]], and the _Joseph Green_. I had the command of two Companies and a half in the last ship. When we arrived on board, with the quantity of baggage, etc., the ship was in a wild-looking state. The Captain and the agent came to me and said, “We are ordered to go to sea to-morrow, but this is impossible from the state of the ship; it is of no consequence, if you would give us a certificate to this effect; the day after to-morrow will do quite as well.” “The devil it will,” says I, “when you are ordered. Have you everything belonging to the ship’s stores on board?” “Everything.” Johnny Kincaid was my subaltern, so I said, “Johnny, at daybreak in the morning turn out all hands, and prepare a certificate for my signature at eight o’clock if required.” Eight o’clock arrived, and no man-of-war’s decks were ever more ready for action—our baggage all stored below, our soldiers’ arms and everything else arranged, and I told the Captain, “Now, you see, I need sign no certificate. We Riflemen obey orders and do not start difficulties.” We were under way in no time. This Captain Lumsden was an excellent fellow; some years after he took Sir James Stirling out as Governor to Swan River and touched at the Cape, when I had an opportunity of returning some of his many acts of kindness.