CHAPTER II.
PERILS BY SEA AND LAND.
After enjoying a few weeks at home, I was appointed to the Naval Brigade on service in Spain, acting with the English army, who were there by way of assisting Queen Christina against Don Carlos.
The army was a curious collection of regular troops and volunteer soldiers, the latter what would be called 'Bashi-Bazouks.' The naval part of the expedition consisted of 1,200 Royal Marines, and a brigade of sailors under the orders of Lord John Hay.

The army (barring the regulars, who were few in numbers) was composed of about 15,000 of the greatest rabble I ever saw, commanded by Sir De Lacy Evans.
For fear any objection or misapprehension be applied to the word 'rabble,' I must at once state that these volunteers, though in appearance so motley and undisciplined, fought splendidly, and in that respect did all honour to their country and the cause they were fighting for.
Very soon after we had disembarked I received what is usually called my 'baptism of fire,' that is to say, I witnessed 'the first shot fired in anger.' The Carlists were pressing hard on the Queen's forces, who were returning towards the sea; it was of the greatest importance to hold certain heights that defended San Sebastian and the important port of Passagis.
The gallant marines (as usual to the front) were protecting the hill on which Lord John was standing; the fire was hot and furious.

I candidly admit I was in mortal fear, and when a shell dropped right in the middle of us, and was, I thought, going to burst (as it did), I fell down on my face.

Lord John, who was close to me, and looking as cool as a cucumber, gave me a severe kick, saying, 'Get up, you cowardly young rascal; are you not ashamed of yourself ?' I did get up and _was_ ashamed of myself.

From that moment to this I have never been hard upon those who flinched at the first fire they were under.