around him had been killed or wounded; then, taking on his
shoulder one of his officers, mortally wounded, he retreated with him to
the rear.

Of the many anecdotes of heroism exhibited during the war, none is more
worthy of note than one told of Ensign Dunham Massy, of the 19th
Regiment, then one of the youngest officers in the army. At the
storming of the Redan he led the grenadier company, and was about the
first of the corps to jump into the ditch, waving his sword, and calling
on his men to follow. They nobly stood by him, till, left for two hours
without support, and seized by a fear of being blown up, they retired.
He, borne along, endeavoured to disengage himself from the crowd, and
there he stood, almost alone, facing round frequently to the batteries,
with head erect, and with a calm, proud, disdainful eye. Hundreds of
shots were aimed at him, and at last, having succeeded in rallying some
men, and leading them on up the side of the ditch, he was struck by a
shot and his thigh broken.

Being the last, he was left there with many other wounded. Hours passed
by--who can tell the agony suffered by that mass of wounded men! Many
were groaning, and some loudly crying out. A voice called faintly at
first, and at length more loudly, "Are you Queen Victoria's soldiers?"
Some voices answered, "I am! I am!"

"Then," said the gallant youth, "let us not shame ourselves; let us show
these Russians that we can bear pain as well as fight like men." There
was a silence as of death; and several times, when the poor fellows
again gave way to their feelings, he appealed to them in a similar
strain, and all was silent.

The unquailing spirit of the young hero ruled all around him. As
evening came on, the Russians crept out of the Redan, and plundered some
of the wounded--though, in some cases, they exhibited kind feelings, and
even gave water. Men with bayonets fixed strode over Massy's body.
Sometimes he feigned death. A man took away his haversack. A Russian
officer endeavoured to disengage his sword, which he still grasped; nor
would he yield it. The Russian, smiling compassionately, at length left
him. When the works were blown up in the night by the retreating
Russians, his left leg was fearfully crushed by a falling stone. He was
found in the morning by some Highlanders, and brought to the camp more
dead than alive from loss of blood. Great was the joy of all at seeing
him, as it was supposed that he wa