Ancestry by Simon Mawer

Author:Simon Mawer [Mawer, Simon]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Other Press
Published: 2022-09-27T00:00:00+00:00

Skip Notes

*1 Almost true. Throughout the nineteenth century Irish made up approximately one third of the British Army.

*2 An Drochshaol, “the bad times,” refers to the Great Famine of 1845 onwards. Approximately pronounced: an droch-heel.

*3 He was, given in charge on 17 June 1853, in London, and the next day fined “the usual 5s.” for being drunk and disorderly.

Embarkation

The next morning they were woken early by the bugle call of reveille. He breakfasted on bread and butter and a mug of tea, watched by six-year-old Mary Ann.

“Where’s you goin’?” she asked.

“To the East.”

The East meant nothing. It was just where soldiers went. Sometimes, she’d heard, they never came back. “Will you come back?”

“ ‘Course I’ll come back.”

It was easier with two-year-old George. When his mother told him that Papa was going away he just laughed and pointed. “Papa,” he said.

After breakfast, George dressed in his newly cleaned and pressed coatee, strapped on his belts and bandoleers and then his knapsack. Finally he put on his shako, picked up his firelock and led his family out onto the parade ground. The other women of the regiment were there, along with their husbands and children. The soldiers were assembling in the centre of the square. The bands from three fellow regiments were forming up to march with the Dirty Half-Hundred and give them a real send off. Bugles were calling. Sergeants were shouting. And Ann stood there, her sharp face dry of tears; her mouth set hard; her shock of russet hair somehow defiant, like regimental colours defining her presence and her indomitable spirit. George Henry clung to her skirts; Mary Ann held her hand.

George bent to kiss his son and then his daughter. Then he kissed the mother, on her mouth, something he’d never done in public. Her free hand came up to hold his head for a moment before letting him go. He stood upright, rested his firelock for a moment while he fastened the stock at his neck – the hated stock – then he turned and hurried over to where 5 Company was mustering.

She watched him go, lost sight of him for a moment among the red coats, then saw him again, standing erect, his gaze up and ahead as the sergeant – Porrick Donnelly – brought the men to attention. All around Ann and her two children the other women were waving and shouting, but she just looked. She could see him in the front rank of 5 Company, just there, his profile as the company turned right. The band struck up “The Girl I Left Behind Me.” It was Donnelly’s voice that called out, “5 Company, by the left, quick march!” And George was there, left marker, front rank. His profile going away, then his back as the snake of soldiers wheeled right towards the gatehouse. And then he had gone and she was on her own, the sole provider for the two children, the sole protector, the sole parent.

While the other women waved and shouted and wept, she turned and led the children back into the barracks.

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