He was a curious, romantic, studious,
fanciful fellow; the favourite, and often the unconscious butt of his
fellow-officers, who entertained themselves with his eccentricities.
He was in some of the hardest service in the peninsula, and
distinguished himself by his gallantry. When the intervals of duty
permitted, he was fond of roving about the country, visiting noted
places, and was extremely fond of Moorish ruins. When at his quarters,
he was a great scribbler, and passed much of his leisure with his pen
in his hand.
"As I was a much younger officer, and a very young man, he took me, in
a manner, under his care, and we became close friends. He used often
to read his writings to me, having a great confidence in my taste, for
I always praised them. Poor fellow! he was shot down close by me, at
Waterloo. We lay wounded together for some time, during a hard contest
that took place near at hand. As I was least hurt, I tried to relieve
him, and to stanch the blood which flowed from a wound in his breast.
He lay with his head in my lap, and looked up thankfully in my face,
but shook his head faintly, and made a sign that it was all over with
him; and, indeed, he died a few minutes afterwards, just as our men
had repulsed the enemy, and came to our relief.
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