al regiments[3] were
ordered to be formed, viz., the 22nd, 34th, and 65th regiments; the
former at Colchester. I was, one morning in that year, about the month
of January or February, busily employed in a field close by my master's
house, when, who should I see but one of the parish officers making
towards me, with a large paper in his hand. I began to muster and parade
my crimes, but found, on a fair review, that I had done nothing that
merited the interference of an officer; so I stood up boldly till he
approached me, and smilingly said, "Shipp, I have frequently heard of,
and observed your great wish to go for a soldier." He then read the
paragraph, and asked me if I was willing to go; for that, if I was, the
parish would rig me out decently, and that he would take me to
Colchester. My little heart was in my mouth; I repeated his words,
"Willing to go!" and eagerly assured him of the rapture with which I
accepted his offer. The affair was soon concluded; so down went my
shovel, and off I marched, whistling, "See, the conquering hero comes."
By four o'clock of the same day, to the honour and praise of the parish
be it spoken, I was rigged out in my new leather tights, new coat, new
hat, new shoes, new everything--of which I was not a little proud. I
begged, as a particular favour, that I might sport colours in my hat;
and even this was permitted to my vanity, as long as I remained in the
town. I took an affectionate leave of all my old playfellows and my good
mistress; and even my cruel master was not neglected by me, for I never
had malice or unforgiveness in my disposition. The next day, by seven
o'clock in the morning, I was on my way to Colchester; and, when I was
seated on the front seat of the coach, I would not have exchanged
situations with the grand pasha of Egypt, or the king upon the throne of
that land of which I was a native. Scarcely had I seated myself, and
adjusted my feet in a safe situation, than I indulged my coach
companions by whistling several martial airs; but, coming to a
well-known turn of the road, from which you take the farewell peep at
Saxmundham, as much as I loved my king, I stopped short in the middle of
the national anthem, and my eye bent its way instinctively towards my
native village, where I first saw the light of heaven, and rested on the
little village spire, which reared its Gothic head over the remains of
my poor mother. Towards this painfully interesting object I looked and
loo