The pains bestowed by the English on their horses, and the superior qualities of their native breeds, at first gave a more favourable idea of their cavalry than the experience of war has justified. The horses are badly trained for fighting. They have narrow shoulders and a hard mouth, and neither know how to turn or to halt. Cropping their tails is a serious inconvenience in hot climates. The luxurious attentions which are lavished upon them, render them quite unfit to support fatigue, scarcity of food, or the exposure of the bivouac. The men are, however, excellent grooms.

The heaviest English cavalry is far from possessing the uniformity and the firm seat of the French and Austrian cuirassiers; and their light-horse is still more inferior in intelligence and activity to the Hungarian hussar and the Cossack. They have no idea of the artifices of partisan warfare, and they know as little how to charge en masse. When the fray commences, you see them equally vulnerable and offensive, cutting instead of thrusting, and chopping with more fury than effect at the faces of their enemies.

During the war in the Peninsula, the French soldiers were so struck with the elegant dresses of the light dragoons, their shining helmets, and the graceful shapes of the men and horses, that they gave them the name of Lindors. In 1813, this dress, which was peculiar to the British troops, was exchanged for the head-dress and jacket of the German light cavalry. The Polish lances at Albuera, and the French cuirasses at Waterloo, have induced the English to add these modes of arming and equipment to their cavalry.

In cavalry service it is not sufficient for the soldiers to be brave, and the horses good; there must also be science and unity. More than once, in the Peninsular war, weak detachments of British cavalry have charged French battalions through and through, but in disorder; the squadrons could not be again re-formed; there were no others at hand to finish the work; thus the bold stroke passed away, without producing any advantage.

The artillery holds the first rank in the army; it is better paid, its recruits are more carefully selected, and its period of enlistment is limited to twelve years. The gunners are distinguished from other soldiers by their excellent spirit. In battle they display judicious activity, a perfect coup d’œil, and stoical bravery.

The English got the start of the French in the formation of the artillery-train: the first trials of it were made in 1793, under the auspices of the Duke of Richmond, then Master-general of the Ordnance. The corps of Royal Artillery Drivers is organized as soldiers. Very high prices are paid for the horses employed to draw the guns, and they are, consequently, extremely good. The harness is as good as that used in French carriages. No nation can rival the English in the equipments and the speed of their conveyances.

English troops take few pieces into the field with them; the most that Lord Wellington ever had in the Peninsula, barely amounted to two for every thousand men. Frames, caissons, barrels, and bullets, powder, and every part of the equipage, are remarkable for the goodness of the materials, as well as excellent workmanship. In battles, the artillery made most copious and effective use of a kind of hollow bullet, called Shrapnell’s spherical case-shot, from the name of the inventor.

In conclusion it may be said, that the English army surpasses other armies in discipline, and in some particulars of internal management; it proceeds slowly in the career of improvement, but it never retrogrades; and no limits can be affixed to the power of organization to which a free and intelligent people may attain.

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The military profession is quite in accordance with the contemplative character and innate indolence of the Spaniards; yet they manifested an extreme repugnance to military service, and especially to that of the infantry. Voluntary enlistment was almost entirely confined to the towns, and was supplied from the vicious and reckless portion of society. A long peace, the insulated position of the country, and the lethargy of the Government, had almost extinguished the old warlike spirit of Spain. While the din of arms resounded throughout the rest of Europe, even the shadow of war was rarely to be seen in Spain. The sovereign never appeared in the garb of a soldier; the nobility had forgotten at what price their grandeur and titles had been purchased by their ancestors; arms had scarcely the dignity of a profession. There were no camps for the performance of manœuvres, none of those large garrisons, in which regiments learn to know each other and to act together. In the neglected state of the Spanish army, even the sacredness of the point of honour had fallen into a state of relaxation.