But all the duke's
hopes of prowess were blighted. He had good opportunities. The Conde de
los Torres made him his aide-de-camp, and sent him daily into the
trenches to see how matters went on. When a defence of a certain Spanish
outwork was resolved upon, the duke, from his rank, was chosen for the
command. Yet in the trenches he got no worse wound than a slight one on
the foot from a splinter of a shell, and this he afterwards made an
excuse for not fighting a duel with swords; and as to the outwork, the
English abandoned the attack, so that there was no glory to be found in
the defence. He soon grew weary of such inglorious and rather dirty work
as visiting trenches before a stronghold; and well he might; for if
there be one thing duller than another and less satisfactory, it must be
digging a hole out of which to kill your brother mortals; and thinking
he should amuse himself better at the court, he set off for Madrid. Here
the king, by way of reward for his brilliant services in doing nothing,
made him _colonel-aggregate_--whatever that may be--of an Irish
regiment; a very poor aggregate, we should think. But my lord duke
wanted something livelier than the command of a band of Hispaniolized
Milesians; and having found the military career somewhat uninteresting,
wished to return to that of politics.
Pages:
294
295
296
297
298
299
300
301
302
303
304
305
306
307
308
309
310
311
312
313
314
315
316
317
318