where the personal exposure of the commander-in-chief contributed materially to the result. But the immolation of Craufurd at Ciudad Rodrigo in 1812, was as gratuitious and unnecessary as that of the veteran Sale at Moodkee in 1845, where he had nothing to do, and where his proper place as quarter-master general was anywhere but where his courage carried him. Craufurd with all his brilliant qualities was dangerous, and not so implicitly to be trusted as Lord Hill, of whom the Duke said, "he is immovable and steady as a rock; whatever I tell him to do, I am sure it will be done to the letter." Mr. Larpent says of this dashing officer

"I have heard a number of anecdotes of General Craufurd. He was very clever and knowing in his profession all admit, and led on his division to the day of his death in most gallant style; but Lord Wellington never knew what he would do. He constantly acted in his own way, contrary to orders; and as he commanded the advanced division, at times perplexed Lord Wellington considerably, who never could be sure where he was. On one occasion, near Guinaldo, he remained across a river by himself—that is, only with his own division-nearly a whole day after he was called in by Lord Wellington. He said he knew he could defend his position. Lord Wellington, when he came back, only said, 'I am glad to see you safe, Craufurd.' The latter replied,

Ob, I was in no danger, I assure you.' But I was, from your conduct,' said Lord Wellington. Upon which Craufurd observed, He is dh crusty to-day!' Lord Wellington knew his merits and humoured him. It was surprising what he bore from him at times."

Craufurd in 1810, when Massena invaded Portugal, kept his single corps for two months within a march or two of the French army, laid the,country under contribution for his support, intercepted the French foraging parties, and, finally, fought 40,000 men for a whole day on the Coa, with the river at his back, and carried off his division, inflicting on the enemy a heavier loss than he sustained. His

tactics were faulty, but his gallantry was excessive; and the action, though an error, was a brilliant episode which astonished the enemy not a little.

Sir W. Napier, whose praise is the more valuable, as not being easily obtained or indiscriminately bestowed, says of Craufurd, in conjunction with

Picton, that both were officers of mark and pretension, but adds, that they were insubordinate to their superiors and harsh in command. Had Craufurd lived, he would undoubtedly have risen to higher distinction and much more exalted rank, but he lacked the coolness to manage a great battle, and the head to plan a complicated campaign.

Spain is a difficult country to make war in, and many reputations have been withered in the attempt. Henry IV. of France, who was not only a daring soldier, but a skilful general, declared that it was hopeless to carry on military operations in that country, for that small armies would be beaten, and large ones starved. Now, the Duke of Wellington carried on war in Spain for six years, with small armies and large ones, and without being either beaten or starved. It is true he suffered much from the imbecility of native cabinets, the incompetence of the Spanish generals, and the constant poltroonery of the regular troops; until he declared, with bitterness of spirit, after the fruits of Talavera were wrested from him, "I have fished in many troubled waters, but Spanish waters I will never fish in again."

In May, 1813, the British army broke up from the frontiers of Portugal, which Lord Wellington looked on for the last time; and then commenced that brilliant march which found him in the following year, after a series of victories and perpetual fighting, in possession of Toulouse and Bordeaux, and in a fair way of realising Lord Liverpool's prognosticated march to Paris, so long looked upon and laughed at as an idle chimera. The invasion of the sacred territory of France was to be the signal of utter and irretrievable ruin to the invaders, who, on the contrary, often found themselves more kindly received, and treated with a more cordial welcome, than on the supposed friendly soil of Spain. Lord Wellington was at one time more apprehensive of his allies in his rear than of the enemy in his front, and was by no means confident that he should not be compelled to fight his way back through the people he had liberated. The French relinquished Burgos without a struggle, and retired behind the Ebro. Dubreton abandoned his impregnable castle, and by offering no opportunity

After

for a second investment, prevented history from recording of the Duke as of Marlborough, that he never besieged a town which he did not take. the decisive day of Vittoria, the French fought against hope, and with the certain and discouraging prestige of defeat, but they struggled gallantly and pertinaciously; and Soult continued to uphold the falling cause of his master with a fidelity that gained for him universal applause. Mr. Larpent, although a non-combatant, contrived to expose himself to many dangers, and at last was taken prisoner, but he was soon released through the application of Lord Wellington, and the intercession of General Count Gazan, to whose lady he had shown courtesy and kindness, when she was left with many other fair captives amongst the spoils of Vittoria. lady, it appears, was renowned for her gallantries, but her husband, incredulous as Belisarius, turned a deaf ear to all these idle stories, and never suffered them to disturb his domestic quiet.

The

Mr. Larpent speaks in rather disparaging terms of the Guards and Household Cavalry, whom he considers as less hardy warriors, and less effective in the field, than the ordinary battalions and squadrons of the working line.

"The Life-Guards and Blues," he says, "looked well on their entrance into Palentia, and on their march yesterday; the former, however, seem dull and out of spirits, and have some sore backs among their horses. The Blues seem much more up to the thing, but they are neither of them very fit for general service here. Lord Wellington saves them up for some grand coup, houses them when he can, and takes care of them."

When we remember that these Patagonian householders, and their mount, had cost the country, man by man, at least £300 before they got to Vittoria, we need scarcely wonder that a prudent general should hesitate to bring such costly warriors into action, unless an opportunity offered of sending them in to finish, as they say in the ring, and as they afterwards did so manfully at Waterloo.

Mr. Larpent contrived to get a good

view, without being exposed to much danger, of the grand field-day of Vittoria, of which, and of the state of the ground and city after the battle, when strewed with the whole materiel of the French army, he gives an animated account, as also of his accidental rencontre with the Countess de Gazan. It appears that about £250,000 in hard cash, in gold, was taken with the French military chest at Vittoria, but a very small portion found its way into the public coffers. Our author says on this subject

"Much was certainly plundered by the natives and soldiers, the latter offering nine dollars for a guinea for the sake of carriage. Lord Wellington, however, has his suspicions of pillage by the civil departments; he has also heard various stories of money taken on the road back from Vittoria. I do not know what may come of this; I have made out but little satisfactory as yet; I think, however, one gentleman I examined yesterday intended to keep two thousand dollars. At the same time, the understanding that this was all fair seems pretty general."

This much is quite certain, that large sums of money were privately appropriated from the spoils of Vittoria, and that the high authorities passed the matter over without any very rigid investigation. During Sir John Moore's retreat to Corunna, in 1809, much treasure was abandoned on the road, from the constant deaths of the carriage-mules, and the impossibility of transporting it further. The casks containing dollars were broken in, and the money thrown down the ravines, whence it was afterwards gathered up by the peasants and the pursuing enemy. An English soldier's wife collected as many dollars as she was able to carry, and placed them round her waist. Despite the fatigue of long marches and scanty food, she arrived safely at the place of embarkation with the prize. But on stepping into a boat, her foot slipped over the gunwale, when she sank immediately and never rose again. The weight of the dollars, from which she was unable to extricate herself, produced the unlooked for catastrophe. We are rather startled to find at page 257, vol. i., the following passage,

which has occasioned much animadversion and strong dissentient opinions amongst military readers:—

"In marching, our men have no chance at all with the French. The latter beat them hollow, and, I believe, principally owing to their being a more intelligent set of beings, seeing consequences more, and feeling them. This makes them sober and orderly whenever it becomes material, and on a pinch their exertions and individual activity are astonishing. Our men get sulky and desperate, drink excessively, and become daily more weak and unable to proceed, principally from their own conduct. They eat voraciously when opportunity offers, after having bad short fare. This brings on fluxes, &c. In every respect, except courage, they are very inferior soldiers to the French and Germans. When the two divisions, the 4th and Light,* crossed through Tafalla the day before yesterday, the more soldier-like appearance and conduct of the foreigners, though in person naturally inferior, was very mortifying. Lord Wellington feels it much, and is much hurt."

Without impugning in the slightest degree the value of Mr. Larpent's general observations or the merit of his book-on a purely military point we can scarcely consider a non-combatant and civilian as a competent authority. His professional duties and judicial capacity brought him much more in personal contact with the delinquents -the drones, scamps, and malingererst of the army than with the hardy

veterans and able men who constitute the staple; while the former include only the exceptions in a well-organised regiment. It cannot be disputed that drunkenness has ever been the bane and besetting sin of the three gallant nations who compose the British army, and all are prone to become disorderly and insubordinate, to straggle and plunder, on a retreat. But let a halt take place with the prospect of engaging, and the ranks are speedily filled, and discipline restored. This was remarkably evidenced at Lugo, where Sir John Moore offered the battle, which Marshal Soult prudently declined; and still more signally at Corunna, where the transports had not arrived, and the exhausted infan

* Two choice divisions of the British army.

try, entirely unsupported by cavalry, were forced to join combat with a superior enemy, and in an unfavourable position. When a French army is surprised, or driven headlong from a field of battle, as at the Douro, at Arroyo de Molinos, and at Vittoria, they fling away every incumbrance, including arms, accoutrements, and knapsacks, and, as Sir W. Napier says, it is impossible for others to keep pace with them who retain their usual gear. But in fair marching, in the fatigue and endurance of a campaign, it has never yet been found, either in ancient or modern times, that the French were superior or equal to the English. In Shakspeare's Henry V., the King, in reply to Mountjoy, the French herald who summons him to surrender, says :

"My people are with sickness much enfeebled;
My numbers lessen'd; and those few I have,
Almost no better than so many French;

Who, when they were in health, I tell thee, herald,
I thought, upon one pair of English legs,
Did march three Frenchmen."-Act iii. sc. 6.

Such was the national opinion on this subject when Shakspeare wrote, in the reign of Queen Elizabeth. Now for a sample in our own days. Sir W. Napier says

"This day also (July 29th, 1809) General Robert Craufurd reached the English camp with the 43rd, 52nd, and 95th Rifles, and immediately took charge of the outposts. These troops, leaving only seventeen stragglers behind in twenty-six hours, crossed the field of battle in a close and compact body, having in that time passed over sixtytwo English miles, in the hottest season of the year, each man carrying from fifty to sixty pounds weight upon his shoulders. Had the historian Gibbon known of such a march, he would have spared his sneer about the delicacy of modern soldiers.” — Vol. ii. p. 400.

The same unquestionable authority, when concluding a comparative summary of the soldiers of modern Europe, says "The result of an hundred battles, and the admitted testimony of foes as well as friends, assigns the first place to the English infantry." He is not in the least blind to their defects, but long service has deeply impressed

on him a conviction of their superior qualities; and he produces other reasons with those we have named above, why a French army, under sudden disaster or dispersion, can re-assemble and pick up their stragglers much more rapidly than an English force would be enabled to do under the same circumstances. Neither did the average of sick in hospital, in Lord Wellington's army, during the Peninsular campaigns, exceed that of the French divisions opposed to him, as a reference to the different returns will show. During the latter years, the Allies were under canvas, while the French continued the usual practice of bivouacking in the open air. Many lives were saved, and much sickness avoided by the use of tents, which, although they much increased the difficulty and expense of transport, amply repaid the inconvenience of both.

Mr. Larpent relates a curious anecdote of Lord Wellington, that the Prince Regent was very anxious that he should correspond with him directly, and much hurt that he never did so. "6 But," says his Lordship, "I wrote to his ministers, and that was enough. What had I to do with him? However, his late favour was a reason for my writing, and I have had a most gracious answer, evidently courting further correspondence, but which I shall not comply with." He afterwards changed this resolution, being completely won over by the autograph letter from the Regent after Vittoria, in which he presented his general with the staff of a marshal of England, in return for that of Jourdan taken on the field, and forwarded to him as a trophy.

The situation of judge advocategeneral in an army composed of many nations, such as that under Lord Wellington, must at all times have been a very busy one. Mr. Larpent's courts-martial were many and important, but he seems to have got through his official business with great intelligence and activity, and, by dint of hanging and flogging, at the end of a year a respectable state of moral discipline was tolerably well restored. But he had difficulties to encounter, which might have been avoided.

He says

"The new Mutiny Act has been sent out to me. There are several changes-one I see which I suggested; but the business is very much bungled. The Mutiny Act and Articles of War are now at variance, as the

latter have not been altered with the former. By the first, an officer may now be tried here by a court of seven members; by the Articles there must be thirteen."

And this discrepancy remained unaltered, when half-an-hour's attention on the part of the home officials, seated at a desk, would have set all right, and removed a puzzling contradiction. Before the appointment of Mr. Larpent, Lord Wellington, in addition to his other multifarious duties, seems to have had the arrangement of the courtsmartial entirely thrown upon his own hands, which irked him not a little, and sometimes made him lose his temper. The members occasionally were either unacquainted with their duty, or unwilling to do it. Once he swore angrily, and said his whole table was covered with details of robbery, mutiny, and complaints from all quarters, in all languages, and that he should soon be nothing but a general of courts-martial. He was more easily excited to anger on this disagreeable subject than on any other. Religious observances seem to have been less rigorously attended to in the Peninsula, than in the armies under Marlborough in the Low Countries. author says:

Our

"You ask about our religious duties. There are four or five more clergymen in Portugal, but no one now at head-quarters. The one stationed there, went away ill about a twelvemonth since, as I hear."

At all times during the last war, the number of military chaplains attached to the different corps on service, and settled at foreign stations, was much too limited for the purpose. A little trait of personal peculiarity in the Great Captain, is thus noticed :

"In one instance, Lord Wellington is not like Frederick the Great. He is remarkably neat, and most particular in his dress, considering his situation. He is well made, knows it, and is willing to set off to the best what nature has bestowed. In short, like every great man, present or past, almost without exception, he is vain. He cuts the skirts of his own coats shorter to make them look smarter; and, only a short time since, I found him discussing the cut of his halfboots, and suggesting alterations to his ser vant when I went in upon business. The vanity of great men shows itself in different ways, but, I believe, always exists in some shape or other."

We have not been accustomed to look upon the Duke as remarkably sedulous of dress, although on grand occasions he made a sufficient display, when he wore his principal orders and decorations blazing on a coat more gorgeous than the celebrated habit of Prince Esterhazy, which, it was said, cost him £200 in repairs and damages every time it was put on. The Duke had a custom of wearing a white neckcloth in uniform, which gave him rather a slovenly look; and a flippant French duchess once called him "Le Duc de Vilain-ton," because he appeared at a full-dress party in something less than grande tenue. He was also familiarly called in the army, "the Beau," from his usual plain attire, and apparent negligence of outward splendour. That vanity is an inherent compound or attendant of greatness, is a wide position, which admits of much argument and endless demonstration. Many distinguished men affect or adopt eccentricities, of which vanity may be the inciting cause. Lord Nelson was fond of exhibiting his stars, and delighted in having his horses taken out, and his carriage drawn by the mob. The celebrated Lord Peterborough, though light, and vain, and proud, had no weakness of this kind. Once, the populace taking him for the Duke of Marlborough, insisted on dragging him through the streets in triumph. "Gentlemen," said he, "I can assure you by two reasons, that I am not the Duke of Marlborough. In the first place, I have only five guineas in my pocket; and, in the second, they are heartily at your service." So, throwing his purse amongst them, he got out of their hands with loud huzzas and acclamations. Richardson, in his Anecdotes, says: "The great Earl of Peterborough, who had much sense, much wit, and much whim, leaped out of his chariot one day on seeing a dancingmaster with pearl-coloured silk stockings, lightly stepping over the broad stones, and picking his way in extremely dirty weather, and ran after him (who soon took to his heels) with his drawn sword, in order to drive him into the mud, but into which he, of course, followed himself."

All singularities may be traced home to a certain degree of vanity, of which prevailing weakness, the old leather breeches of Frederick the Great, the coarse coat and brass

buttons of Charles XII., the small cocked hat and grey capote of Napolcon, the blanket and tub of Diogenes, and even the pious beaver and modest drab of the Quaker, may be included as samples. Philosophy itself has no objection to an occasional flourish of trumpets. The ancient sages taught in the schools, and modern philomaths lecture at public institutions, but who shall say that they are not as much incited by the vanity of showing their acquirements, as by the desire of instructing their fellow-citizens. Even Seneca declared, that if knowledge was bestowed on him, on condition that he should not impart it, he would decline the gift.

The Guards, or, as they were usually denominated, "the gentlemen's sons, are not considered by Mr. Larpent as more effective for "roughing it" on a long campaign than the Household Cavalry. They were too much accustomed to luxuries, and less patient under privations than the hardier and unpampered mass who constituted the ordinary food for powder. Our author says:

"Both men and officers are only fit for our old style of expedition-a landing, a short march, and a good fight, and then a lounge home again."

Certainly, the chosen cohorts enjoyed a good dinner more than a bivouac fire, and a bottle of port in preference to a canteen full of muddy water; but in the field of battle their inherent gallantry never failed to show itself, and conventional fopperies and delicacies retired at once into the background. In the early and unlaurelled campaigns of the Low Countries at the commencement of the French Revolution, in Egypt, at Talavera, at Barossa, at Waterloo, wherever the Prætorian bands were brought in close contact with the enemy, they exhibited the courage of true British soldiers, and the constancy under fire of experienced veterans. It has been often urged by well qualified military authorities, that the institution of guards is in itself unnecessay and detrimental to sound military discipline, as creating jealousies and distinctions which im pede rather than advance the true interests and efficiency of the service. The question is complicated, and open to long discussion, but the measure of