war. Major Elton, too, was as brave an officer
as ever lived. He was commanding a working
party in the trenches, when he had orders to
push out and work in the open. His men hesitated
and drew back: the fire was too severe;
but Major Elton, seizing the pick and shovel,
began working quite coolly, with shot and shell
flying all about him. His men cheered and followed
his example; what else could they do?
and the work was accomplished which he had
been set to do. In the second battalion was another
hero; but he was in the ranks as were so
many whom we have specially selected. A pit
was held by two Rusians, when Private
M'Gregor crossed the open under a heavy fire,
quietly dislodged the grey-coats, and took their
place triumphantly. Private John Palmer—
not our old friend Anthony, but another hero of
the same name—was " conspicuous for great
bravery on the night of August 30, 1855." He
drove in the enemy's working party, remained
in the open exposed to the fire of their rifle-pits,
till all around were killed or wounded, then
retreated slowly, carrying off a wounded officer.
Sergeant Joseph Malone stopped with a wounded
officer after the Balaclava charge, and took care
of him, though unhorsed and exposed to most
imminent danger. In fact, there was nothing
which those Crimean heroes did not do in the way
of courage, devotedness, bravery, or self-sacrifice.

The navy was not behind. What with setting
fire to stores, cutting out boats, and cutting
hawsers of floating-bridges, as John Trewavas,
seaman, did to the floating-bridge in the Straits
of Genitchi, they were as brave as lions, and in-
finitely more dangerous. John Sullivan, seaman,
was a thorough specimen of the jolly, rollicking
Jack Tar, who makes a play of a danger. Under
a very heavy fire, he placed his flag on a mound
as quietly as if he had been hoisting a pennant on
the Queen's birthday, and enabled battery No.
5, to open on a concealed Russian battery in
the jolliest way imaginable. Captain Kennedy
spoke highly of this exploit; saying, moreover,
that Sullivan's "gallantry was always conspicuous."

As for Commander Hewett, then mate of
the Beagle, his feat reads like a bit of romance.
He had charge of the Right Lancaster
Battery, when his superior officer commanded
him to spike the gun, abandon it, and retreat.
Mr. Hewett took a different view of the case.
He fought his gun, drove off the Russians, and
won a victory by disobeying orders. He was
called up by his commanding officer, and expected
a row, or a court-martial at the very
least; but instead, was promoted on the spot,
and received the Cross as a further reward.
This was a grand slip of those red-tape knots
round the throats of brave men with brains and
will.

Henry James Raby, commander; John Taylor,
captain of the forecastle; and Henry Curtis,
boatswain's mate; on June 18, after the assault
on Sebastopol, climbed over the breastwork of
an advanced sap, went seventy yards across the
open towards a salient angle of the Redan, and
carried off a wounded soldier, who had been
shot through both his legs, and was sitting up,
calling loudly for assistance. John Prettyjohn,
too, of the Royal Marines, honoured both the
services to which he theoretically belonged.
Poor fellow, he died a few hours after he had
been named for the Cross of Valour; and went
to his account—perhaps to meet the four Russians
whom he shot with his own hand at Inkermann!
He died well decorated, having had
medals for the Kaffir and Burmese wars, the
Sebastopol medal and all the clasps, and now,
this little bronze Maltese Cross, perhaps the
dearest of them all. Commander Day did a
gallant thing. He landed, and successfully
carried out a reconnoissance within the enemy's
lines at Genitchi, wading through four or five
miles of swamp up to his knees in water.
Another very daring thing was done at this same
place, when Lieutenants Buckley and Burgoyue
planned and executed the burning of the Russian
stores (at Genitchi), lighting the portfires with
their cigars, and though constantly pursued,
returned to the boats safe, successful at the last.
On the 9th of August, '54, Commander Bythesea
and Stoker Johnstone landed, disguised, on the
Island of Wardo, intercepted despatches, and took
three out of five prisoners, carrying them off to
their own boat; and on July 15, John Shepherd,
boatswain, went with explosive apparatus in a
punt right into Sebastopol harbour, and endeavoured
to blow up the Russian ships. All these
men received the Cross; as did many more who
did things quite as great and dramatic, but whose
names being Legion cannot all be mentioned
here, and to-day, by me. The Gazettes and the
despatches have them safe enough, and they
have their medals for Valour.

Then came India, with its wilderness of
heroisms, each deed grander, and more wonderful
than the last. Here everyone was a hero; and
the very women and children caught the infection.
It is almost impossible to single out one
among so many, and yet I must speak of young
Cubitt, a volunteer, who earned the Cross in this
wise.

Just before the siege of Lucknow was begun,
a reconnoissance was ordered, which resulted,
among many other losses, in the defeat of
the Thirty-Second and the Volunteer Cavalry.
Under a tremendous fire, during the retreat, Mr.
Cubitt paused three times, each time saving the
life of a Thirty-Second man, and so managed to
bring in three of that regiment, who must otherwise
have been cruelly murdered. They had all
lost their hats, and one of them was delirious,
and the cause of great delay, as he was continually
attempting to fling himself down, and
had to be held by main force by the gallant
young volunteer. Several times he thought that
he would be obliged to leave the poor fellow to
his fate, as he was endangering the whole party,
but he kept firm hold, and finally succeeded in
bringing him and the other two safe into camp.
It was an appalling scene—horses and men disembowelled
and torn to atoms, with more than
the ordinary brutalities of warfare. Major