ordered them to desist, and hasten to give him help. But Moore, who was bleeding fast, said to them, You can be of no service 'to me: go to the wounded soldiers, to whom 'you may be useful;' and he ordered the bearers to move on. But as they proceeded, he repeatedly made them turn round to view the battle, and to listen to the firing; the sound of which, becoming gradually fainter, indicated that the French were retreating.

Before he reached Corunna, it was almost dark, and Colonel Anderson met him; who, seeing his general borne from the field of battle for the third and last time, and steeped in blood, became speechless with anguish. Moore pressed his hand, and said in a low tone; Anderson, don't leave me.' As he was carried into the house, his faithful servant François came out, and stood aghast with horror but his master, to console him, said smiling, My friend, this is nothing.'

He was then placed on a mattress on the floor, and supported by Anderson, who had saved his life at St. Lucia; and some of the

gentlemen of his staff came into the room by turns. He asked each, as they entered, if the French were beaten, and was answered affirmatively. They stood around; the pain of his wound became excessive, and deadly paleness overspread his fine features; yet, with unsubdued fortitude, he said, at intervals, Anderson, you know that I have ' always wished to die this way. I hope the people of England will be satisfied! I hope my country will do me justice!'

6

'Anderson, you will see my friends as soon C as you can. Tell them every thing.Say to my mother.' Here his voice faltered, he became excessively agitated, and not being able to proceed, changed the subject.

Hope!*Hope! I have much to say to ' him—but cannot get it out. Are Colonel 'Graham †, and all my aides-de-camp, 'safe?' (At this question, Anderson, who

*Sir John Hope, who succeeded to the command; afterwards the Earl of Hopetown.

+ Of Balgowan, now Lord Lynedoch.

knew the warm regard of the General towards the officers of his staff, made a private sign not to mention that Captain Burrard * was mortally wounded.) He then continued, 'I have made my will, and have remem'bered my servants. servants. Colborne † has my will, and all my papers.' As he spoke these words, Major Colborne, his military secretary, entered the room. He addressed him with his wonted kindness; then, turning to Anderson, said, 'Remember you go to Willoughby Gordon,‡ and tell him it is my request, and that I expect he will give a 'Lieutenant-Colonelcy to Major Colborne ;— 'he has been long with me and I know him to be most worthy of it.'

He then asked the Major, who had come last from the field, Have the French been 'beaten?' He assured him they had on every point. It's a great satisfaction,' he said, for me to know that we have beat the

*

A very promising officer, son of Sir Harry Burrard.
Now Sir John Colborne, and Major General.
Sir Willoughby Gordon, Secretary to the Duke of York, &c.

* French.

Is Paget* in the room?'

On

being told he was not, he resumed, Re

member me to him; he is a fine fellow.' Though visibly sinking, he then said, 'I 'feel myself so strong-I fear I shall be -It's great uneasiness—it's

6

long dying..

great pain!

6

Everything François says is right.

He

I have great confidence in him.' thanked the surgeons for their attendance. Then seeing Captains Percy † and Stanhope, two of his aides-de-camp, enter, he spoke to them kindly, and repeated to them the question, If all his aides-de-camp were safe;' and was pleased on being told they

were.

After a pause, Stanhope caught his eye, and he said to him, 'Stanhope! remember me to your sister §.' He then became silent. Death, undreaded, approached; and the

*The Honourable Brigadier Paget, who commanded the reserve; since Sir Edward, and a Lieutenant-General.

The Honourable Captain Percy, son of the Earl of Beverley. The Honourable Captain Stanhope, son of Earl Stanhope. § The Lady Hester Stanhope, niece to William Pitt.

spirit departed; leaving the bleeding body an oblation offered up to his country.

I have stated, with fidelity, the acts of Sir John Moore, compiled from authentic public and private papers, and from witnesses of strict veracity,-many of whom are still living. But I shall not venture to sum up the character of a brother whom I loved and honoured, as I should be suspected of exaggerating his virtues, and of palliating the failings which are inseparable from human

nature.

I may, however, notice, that his familiar letters give clear testimony of the affectionate warmth of his heart; while the estimation in which he was held by the greatest and best men of the times in which he lived, together with the confidence they reposed in him, are proofs of their conviction of his innocence, fortitude, and judgment.

Yet every man is usually appreciated by what he has done. The student, who has

composed a pre-eminent work, is graced with