points of human bravery and endurance. The
charge of the brigade at Balaclava was quite as
heroic as the devotion of the Three Hundred at
Thermopylæ, though the cause was different;
and many a private soldier, both in the Crimea
and in India, performed feats which, for mere
courage and humanity, were to the full as daring
as those prompted by patriotism and the hope
of a deathless fame. When Sergeant-Major
John Grieve, of the Second Dragoons, rescued an
officer during the heavy cavalry charge at Balaclava,
he did only what he thought to be his
common duty: Castor and Pollux, Orestes and
Pylades, and all the rest of the typical devoted,
did no more. Life for life is all that a
man can give; and certainly it is easier to give
that life in the midst of a watching and admiring
crowd, than to lose it obscurely in the chance
melee of a battle. Sergeant Grieve does not
seem to have troubled himself with any such
calculation. When he cut off one Russian's head
at a blow, and disabled and dispersed several
other Russians, he had no very exciting motives
of self-devotion. Pay, promotion, or popularity,
could not well enter his head, for he knew the
rules of the service about rising from the ranks,
and he knew, too, that the English public rarely
ask the names of the poor privates and non-commissioned
officers who fall. Our national
gratitude never goes lower than the epaulet.
What Sergeant-Major John Grieve did, then,
was an act of the purest and most unselfish
heroism; but, I dare say, when the Queen pinned
the cross to his breast in Hyde Park that day,
he felt that he was more than rewarded for what
was to him a very ordinary matter-of-fact bit of
duty. Yet, had he been an old Greek or Roman,
with not too much clothing, and a very burnished
helmet, the world would have rung with his
name two thousand years after, and pictures
would have been painted, and odes written, to
his honour; and " Grieve at Balaclava" would
have become as much a synonyme of daring as
Codes holding the bridge, or Manlius guarding
the Capitol. So, when Private Samuel Parkes,
of the Fourth Light Dragoons, defended
Trumpet-Major Crawford against six Russians,
until his own sword was shot away; when Lieutenant
Dunn, of the Eleventh Hussars, saved
the life of Sergeant Bentley, by cutting down
two or three Russian Lancers who were attacking
him, and afterwards saved Private Leyett by
killing the Russian hussar who was getting the
better of him; they never thought they were
doing anything extraordinary, or what the world
would recognise as beyond the accustomed
routine of battle-life. The authorities, however,
thought differently, and deemed both commissioned
and non-commissioned officer worthy
of special report. The Queen gave them both
the Cross, amidst the cheering of that dense
June crowd.

Troop-Major John Berryman, of the Seventeenth,
served during the whole of the Crimean
war, and was never once absent from duty
At Alma, in the pursuit at Mackenzie's Farm
he made three Russians prisoners, single-handed,
and while within reach of their own
guns. At Balaclava, when his horse had been
hot under him, he manfully remained on the
ield beside Captain Webb; and, though repeatedly
advised to leave and seek his own
safety, quietly stayed, exposed to a hot fire,
until Sergeant John Farrell passed him, when.
both together they carried off the wounded
officer to the rear. For this he received the
Victoria Cross, and a clasp for Inkermann as
well. Lieutenant Gerald Graham, of the Royal
Engineers, was decorated for his "determined
gallantry" in leading a ladder party at the assault
of the Redan on the 18th of January,
'55; also for his "devoted heroism" in sallying
out many times to bring in the wounded under
a galling fire from the enemy. Lieutenant
D. Lennox, of the same corps, got the same
honour, for " his cool and gallant conduct" in
establishing a lodgment in Tryson's Rifle Pit.
Canrobert made a special order in his favour
before our Queen gave him the Victoria Cross.

Any one of these actions would have been
historic capital enough to set up a whole nation
in the career of heroism, but they were thought
nothing wonderful by those brave, unflinching
men of ours; and, sure enough, such actions
were almost sufficiently universal to become
trite.

What a fine dramatic thing Corporal Ross
did, for instance—as fine as anything told of
King Arthur—when he crept up to the Redan
on the night of the 7th of September, crawling
on his hands and knees noiselessly among the
brushwood, at the imminent risk of his life, to
bring back news of the enemy's doings to his
own camp! Private William Norman did something
even more daring. He was posted as single
sentry in front of an outlying picket, with the
Russian picket about three hundred yards before
him. It was a post of singular danger, and demanded
great courage, and unfaltering vigilance.
Private William Norman proved himself equal to
his charge. Through the darkness he saw three
Russians advancing stealthily, under cover of the
brushwood. In a moment he was upon them,
and took two of them prisoners, without ever
alarming the Russian picket. He, too, was decorated;
as was his due. Corporal William
Lendrim got the Cross. The despatches spoke
of his " intrepidity" in getting on to the top of
a magazine and extinguishing the burning sand-bags
which threatened, every moment to explode
the powder beneath. He was also a volunteer
for destroying the farthest rifle pit on the
20th of April (we are still in the Crimea, and
before that obstinate Sebastopol which will
not be taken), and, as all the world knows, it
was a work of no little danger that he undertook.
Sapper John Perie, Royal Engineers,
led the sailors with storming ladders in the
assault on the Redan; and, with a bullet in his
own side rescued a wounded man from the open.
Private John Connors, also in the same assault,
rescued a wounded officer who was surrounded,
fought single handed and hand to hand
against several at once, and was selected by his