mise, and was given him by a general officer, was called Musket, by his master, but nicknamed the Major, by the soldiers, who asserted that the old horse could go through a field day without a rider on his back, so trained was he to his duty. No court or parliamentary interest rapidly promoted the Major; he was ten years getting up to the rank of captain, although by purchase; but this was in part from his own obstinacy, for he might have purchased the step which gained him a company fifty times in another regiment; but he used to say, that a man lost his consequence by flying from one corps to another, and that it would break his heart to part with his jolly fourth company, and the worthy members of the mess, of which he was the cornerstone and pillar, and to which he gave laws, like those of Lycurgus, not to be repealed. Two circumstances which had greatly impeded his promotion were the long peace after the American war, and his being shut up for many years in Gibraltar; but so fond was he of the corps, the camp, and the garrison, that where his men were, there he was contented.

As a tactician he was of the old school; he did not over-drill the regiment, when under his charge, nor was he over fond of lengthy field-days, nor complicated mancuvres. "Level well my lads, and then come to the bayonet,' was his grand art of war; his courage, at the same time, was inferior to no man's. The detail of the regiment was his great delight; to see the men clean and orderly was his pride; to provide for their comforts on the march, or under circumstances of inclement weather, disease, or fatigue, was the great expense which drained his purse; many a bottle of wine and a bowl of strong soup went to the hospital or sick quarters, from his pocket; many a cloak, blanket, and article of bedding was sent by him to the women of the regiment; he ate the soldier's bread himself, and laid on a hard paillasse by choice. If the Major was absent, when he was ten years eldest captain, his countenance used to be lit up when the colours were removed to his quarters; a peerage would not have made him half so proud; and when a sentry was placed at his door, and an orderly walking behind him, he would not have exchanged his situation for a crown and sceptre.

As a President of a court-martial, his uneasiness for the prisoner, and his unvaried leaning to mercy, gained him every heart; at a punishment, agony was depicted in his countenance: he never commanded the regiment but once on such an occasion: the prisoner's crime was desertion and theft (having stolen a comrade's money); it

was impossible to pardon him; mercy, however, still was uppermost in the Old Major's bosom, and just before the prisoner stripped, he (the Major) called out to the adjutant with a tremulous voice, "Has the prisoner any relation in the ranks?" "Yes, Sir," replied the adjutant, "he has a brother." "Then let him fall out; I am sorry for the disgrace which his brother has brought on him, and I should be more so to wound a good soldier's feelings. John Roberts, fall out; you may go to your barrackroom." His maxims and precepts were many, and both manly and benevolent. "Never speak haughtily to a private soldier, because you do not know what blood may be under worsted lace; if misfortunes have placed a man in the ranks, bruise not further his spirit; and if choice and the love of the profession, do not disgust him with it”— this was one. "In punishing or reproving a soldier, never humiliate him, because if he has feeling you will break his spirit, and if not, you detract from the honor of arms"was another: but they were innumerable.

At the mess-table the Old Major was as sportive as a young man; and he even allowed the Boys, as he used to call the young officers, to joke with him, and took great pleasure in being called the Old Major, or the Old Boy. As a bottle companion, he was most entertaining, and could empty two decanters and retire to his bed with the utmost dignity and composure. At last, the effects of the yellow fever, from which he had never recovered, laid the Old Major on a sick bed, and a few weeks terminated his mild and honorable career; patience and resignation sat upon his countenance to the last moment of life's scene, the consequence of religious principles, moral conduct, and a life of social and other virtues. "Military honors, my boys!" were his last words, in taking leave of the officers about him, whose love was discernible in their varying and struggling features; and military honors he had: he was followed to the grave by a whole brigade, mournfully and respectfully; and that spirits like his, which I have so imperfectly described, may be mustered above, is the humble hope of THE HERMIT IN LONDON.

* Alluding to his funeral,

Campaigns in India.

(From the private Journals of the late Lieutenant Colonel Richard Scott.Continued from p. 434. Vol. II.)

THE success of the British army before Bangalore was considered by themselves and the allies as a great feature in the complexion of the war; the news was circulated with rapidity and exultation, and received as an earnest of future advantages by our allies. The Nizam had ordered. a large body of cavalry to join the grand army as soon as Bangalore was in our posession; and when Lord Cornwallis had made the necessary arrangements in Bangalore, he gave orders for the siege of the more important fortress of Seringapatam. He marched to cover the approach of our allies, who, in the present weak state of our cavalry, were a most desirable re-inforcement for the British army.

On the 28th of March, the army commenced its route to the southward; Tippoo was watching our motions, and had made a movement which indicated a design of interrupting the junction of our allies; his exact position was not clearly understood. In consequence, however, of the Mysore and British armies having been so long encamped in the neighbourhood of Bangalore, the cattle had suffered most severely, and those which remained alive were in so weak a state, as to cause great anxiety to Lord Cornwallis. It had been the usual practice of the enemy to burn and destroy all the forage on our route of march, and to prevent this inconvenience, Lord Cornwallis ordered the 26th battalion, with two troops of cavalry, but without their fieldpieces, to march to the new encampment, and preserve the forage from being destroyed. I was directed to march at 12 o'clock, but we were prevented moving by the mistake of the guide, who, instead of coming to my Brigadier, Colonel Cockerell, went to the Bengal Colonel Duff, who commanded in the fort, and the importance of this mission not being understood, the man went to sleep till the Colonel arose in the morning. Notwithstanding every exertion on my part, this mystery could not be unravelled till near four o'clock, when I was provided with another guide, but who was imperfectly instructed in the business, or of the route the army was to march. Unincumbered with guns or baggage, we now set off with a quick step, in the hope of making up for the past mistake; and if the guide had known the spot on which the army was to encamp, we should probably have been in time to answer the purpose intended by Lord Cornwallis, and provided no other unforeseen

accident happened. We had not proceeded more than four miles, when we fell in with several parties of horse; this was unexpected on my part, and I interrogated the guide strictly, concerning his knowledge of the ground. He persisted in its being the route which the army was to take, and I continued my march: as we advanced, the enemy increased in numbers, but kept at a proper distance, no doubt, under the idea, that we were provided with artillery. It certainly was blameable in Lord Cornwallis to hazard the fate of this detachment without the usual and necessary aid of field-pieces, more especially as the enemy were

now so near.

The appearance of these cavalry pickets indicated that the army was at no great distance. I therefore proceeded with caution, and shortened my pace in the hope of seeing the advanced guard of our army; for the nature of the ground admitted of our seeing several miles around us. The force of the enemy continued to increase as I proceeded, and there was no appearance of the British army. At length I observed the main body of the army of Tippoo in full march, and that my small party was evidently mistaken for the advanced guard of the British. At the moment I made this discovery, it happened that we were near a ruined village, sufficiently extensive for the protection of my detachment, and a large sheet of water covered my front. Here I determined to set down in the style of our advanced guard, waiting the approach of the army; a sight, which Tippoo's cavalry were daily accustomed to. In this situation, I was permitted quietly to remain, whilst Tippoo's army was retiring with the greatest expedition, and at the expiration of two hours, I had the satisfaction of seeing our army on its march, at the distance of three miles, but pursuing a different route from that I had taken; the guide had misled my party, and conducted us so far from the right of the line of march. This error, however, had the effect of leading Tippoo into a greater; for supposing that we were the advanced guard, he made a detour to the left, and actually exposed himself to the real one under Captain Monson, and by this means afforded Lord Cornwallis the most favourable opportunity of a decisive action which perhaps occurred during the war.

Tippoo's army escaped in the greatest confusion; one part marching to the westward, whilst the rear went to the right about, and retired to the east; it was positively cut in two, and actually did not unite again for several days, yet the only trophy we obtained was a solitary 9-pounder which we found overset in a tank. Thus, after much

fatigue from a long march, and the fallacious hope of a splendid victory, we had the mortification to observe the enemy retire, with almost undimished force, though in confusion and disgrace.

I have before observed, that a subadar of the 26th battalion was made a prisoner at the attack on the pettah. He had received a contusion from a spent ball, which prevented his advancing with his company, when we proceeded to the attack. After our success, he attempted to join his corps, but, proceeding down the centre of the pettah, he was made prisoner by the enemy, who instantly took him to the fort. After the storm of Bangalore, Tippoo permitted him to return on parole, not to serve during the war, and I was well contented to send him to Bengal: this man was with the battalion, but not doing duty, when we were in this critical situation; and had he been again taken, it is probable he would have been considered as taken in arms, and hung accordingly: it was observed he was much agitated.

On this singular occasion we could not reflect on our escape without a sense of the goodness of Providence; for, if we had marched as early as was first intended, there is little doubt but we should have been defeated and made prisoners; as, being destitute of guns, we could not, with so inferior a force, have long withstood the vast numbers of the enemy.

The army now proceeded to the northward; and Tippoo, alarmed by his late adventure, observed a proper and respectful distance; still, however, the fears of our allies procrastinated the junction of the Nizam's cavalry. At length they signified their positive determination to join, but not until Lord Cornwallis had threatened them that they must depend on their own resources. In consequence of this resolution, they formed a junction on the 13th of April: their force consisted of 20,000 horse; and their camp being well provided with brinjarries, and having made considerable booty of grain on their route, our camp was speedily supplied with the necessaries of life, though at a most advanced rate. The appearance of our allied friends, in their various habiliments, might be compared to Sir John Falstaff's men in buckram, with their matchlocks, pistols, daggers, swords, and spears; added to which, many wore shields and steel wire upper garments; in short, 5000 of Tippoo's irregular cavalry would have put these cavaliers to the route very soon; however, as appearances even are useful in war, these friends were acceptable at this important crisis.

The excessive fatigue which the cavalry had undergone, together with their starved condition, occasioned a most