“It would be a hard matter to decide which was the bravest among so many brave.”
“I should have told you before of Colonel Colborne, afterwards Sir John Colborne, commander-in-chief in Canada. When he commanded the second brigade of rifles at the storming the heights of Beira in Portugal in 1813, he charged the enemy, who fled to the mountains. It was an odd circumstance, but so it occurred, that pushing on round a hill, with only his brigade-major and a few riflemen—for he had shot ahead of the rest of the troops—to his great surprise, he found that he had got before three hundred retreating Frenchmen.”
“Poor Colonel Colborne! Then, he was taken prisoner by the enemy he had beaten?”
“Not exactly so. Many a brave man would in such a case have surrendered, and without dishonour too, but the colonel was too gallant an officer to think for a moment of such a course—whispering to his brigade-major to get as many men together as he could directly, he boldly rode up to the French commander and demanded his sword. The commander, not doubting but he was outnumbered, surrendered; and thus some half-dozen gallant Englishmen captured three hundred Frenchmen!”
“Well! that was as brave an action as we have heard of yet.”
“I might go on to speak of Colonel Ponsonby, General Baird, Sir Thomas Picton, Sir James Macdonnel, Lord Edward Somerset, Sir Henry Hardinge, Sir Colin Campbell, Colonel (general in Spain) Evans, and fifty others; but the longest story must have an end. Let me, therefore, hasten on to speak a word or two on the military exploits of the present commander-in-chief of the British army, who can scarcely be second to any in the extent and success of his military services. The manner in which, as a general of division, he received and repulsed the enemy at Talavera stamped his reputation as a soldier. His surprise of Girard at Arrayo de Molinas was a splendid affair. General Brune, and the Duke d’Aremberg, a colonel of chasseurs, and chief of the staff, with fifteen hundred prisoners, fell into the hands of the British. The destruction of the bridge of boats at Almanez, by which Marshal Marmont had secured the passage of the Tagus, was equally remarkable for judgment in the plan, and promptitude and bravery in its execution; while his repulse of Marshal Soult, who fell upon him with double the number of his troops, upon the Nive, in the battle of the 13th of December 1813, was the crowning enterprise of his military service. ‘Hill, the day’s your own,’ said the Duke of Wellington frankly and generously, when he came up after the battle. Coolness, promptitude, courage, good tactics, and success have marked the brilliant career of Lord Hill.”
“General Lord Hill has not been made commander-in-chief for nothing.”
“No! He has seen as much service as most men. I will read you, from the ‘United Service Journal,’ a most extraordinary anecdote, and one that will much interest you.
“In that brilliant scene of the great Peninsular drama, enacted on the hills of the Arrepiles, now nineteen years ago, I performed the humble part of assistant-surgeon in the —— regiment of foot. Like all military men, I was anxious for promotion, and had been long trying, through every interest I could move, to obtain a staff-surgeoncy in the Portuguese army,—an appointment then open to officers of my rank. My exertions, however, had proved fruitless, and I had almost given up the pursuit.
“It was near sunset. The opposing armies were in fierce collision; and as detached masses from either side rushed forward to occupy the various vantage-grounds of the position, the two lines seemed to mingle, yet for a moment, to repel each other, like meeting torrents. A long and twisted stream of grey curling smoke marked the indentations of the combat, whilst the sharp continuous tearing of the musketry, and the deep interrupted roar of the cannon, formed an awful concert.