WHERE THERE'S A WILL . . . THE KING'S SHILLING

     Border reivers, daring raids across the border to England, triumphant homecomings with the spoils of war, tales of derring-do --  “Your great grandfather was treacherously hanged by the king . . . .” – all the dreams that might be going through the head of a young boy as he sat for weeks . . . and months . . . and years in front of a framework knitter . . . making endless stockings. Is there no way out of this tedious, unimaginative daily round? In young John Turnbull’s mind, the future must have seemed like a long, dark tunnel stretching on and on, ending only at death.

     John was born in December 1800; he went to school long enough to learn to read and write before going to work while still a child to help support his family. Napoleon was rampaging around Europe during those years. Can you imagine John reading every bit of news he could lay his hands on about the Peninsular Campaign, the battles, the bravery of those dashing soldiers . . . .?

     Would you be satisfied with staying where you were and making stockings for the rest of your life? Or would you have a secret desire to see the world, perhaps do a little fighting, have some adventures – and wear a dashing uniform that all the girls would swoon over?

      John Turnbull, brother of my great great grandmother, made the obvious choice: In June 1821, he went to Edinburgh and “took the King’s shilling”-- enlisted in the 26^th Regiment of Foot, for which he received a bonus of one shilling from the King. The Napoleonic Wars were over, but the British empire always had some use for its army.

     The 26^th had just been posted home from Gibraltar, but they didn’t stay in Scotland long. There were riots in Ireland, and in 1822 the 26^th was transferred to Fermoy, Ireland to be a British presence there in controlling the Irish. The Regiment was moved around Ireland from one trouble spot to another in the years until 1828 when they returned to England to be prepared for service in India. John’s seven-year enlistment was up in 1828, but he re-enlisted, this time for “unlimited service”, and was attached to the 59^th Regiment of Foot.  The 59^th spent the next 20 years on garrison duty in various places – Ireland, England, Malta, the West Indies and Gibraltar – not terribly exciting, perhaps, but better than making stockings!

     At some point during this time, John married an Irish woman named Bedelia (Bridget) Ballan. In 1833, their son John was born in Ireland. Sometimes wives were allowed to follow their husbands from place to place, and so a daughter, Janet, was born in England in 1836, and then a second son, Andrew, in Ireland again in 1839.

     Possibly around the time of Andrew’s birth, his father was sent to Gibraltar. John’s service record doesn’t say when they were posted there. I doubt that Bridget was allowed to go with him to Gibraltar. Perhaps she returned to Ireland to wait for John.

     In the early years of the century, the garrison at Gibraltar had been swept with epidemics more than once. Conditions were better now, but some of the soldiers had a hard time in the climate. In 1843, Private John Turnbull received a discharge from the army as a consequence of poor health. His medical report states: “Suffers from ‘chronic rheumatism’ and distress with impaired muscular energy as well as defective digestion not likely to recover by treatment in Hospital – and being the gradual effects of long service in the Mediterranean and at home not aggravated by vice or misconduct but predisposed by constitutional infirmity.”

     So – he came home to Hawick . . . and spent the rest of his life as a stocking maker in the woolen mills. He died of pneumonia on March 11, 1873. He was 72 years old.

(Picture of Stocking Maker found at https://katedaviesdesigns.com/2014/05/05/a-brief-history-of-british-socks/

British soldiers: http://www.britishempire.co.uk/forces/armyuniforms/britishinfantry/26thfoot1815.htm)