Summary

Robert Blakeney A Boy in the Peninsular War

Races were established, partridge-shooting was good, and General Hill kept a pack of foxhounds, and entertained liberally. He felt equally at home before a smoking round of beef or a red-hot marshal of France, and was as keen at unkennelling a Spanish fox as at starting a French general out of his sleep, and in either amusement was the foremost to cry, “Tally ho!” or, “There they go!” As his aide-de-camp, Captain Curry, was married, the amiable Mrs. Curry always dined at the general’s table, so that we neither forgot the deference due to beauty nor the polished manners of the drawing-room.
Source: Gutenberg

Robert Blakeney A Boy in the Peninsular War

The exhilarating juice of the grape was freely quaffed from out the crystal cup, and the inspiring songs of love and war went joyfully round, and the conclusion of each animating strophe was loudly hailed with choral cheers; for such is the composition of a soldier that the object of his love and his country’s foe alike call forth the strongest and most indomitable effusions of his heart, so closely allied is love to battle. Hilarity and mirth reigned throughout. Lively sallies of wit cheerfully received as guilelessly shot forth added brilliancy to the festive board.
Source: Gutenberg

Robert Blakeney A Boy in the Peninsular War

We seemed to see him borne in a blanket by the rear of the regiment, the moon acting as one big torch to light the awful procession as it moved slowly along, our men falling around him as if anxious, even in death, to follow their gallant leader, and the enemy’s guns firing salvos as if to cheer the warrior’s last moments. He knew that they were beaten. Thus Sir John Moore bade his final adieu to the regiment, all shattered save his martial spirit and lofty mind,—these were unbroken and remained inflexible.
Source: Gutenberg

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