Rank in the —————— CAPTAIN. Regiment.│Army. [1] Wm. Norman Ramsay, K. 17 Dec. 1813 │Maj., 22 Nov. 1813 SECOND CAPTAIN. │ [2] Alexander Macdonald, W. 1 Oct. 1812 │ FIRST LIEUTENANTS. │ [3] Wm. Brereton, W. 1 June, 1806 │ [4] Philip Sandilands 1 Feb. 1808 │ [5] Wm. L. Robe, K. 28 June, 1808 │ Footnote 1: This officer’s name has been immortalised by Napier in his _Peninsular War_. He came of a Scottish family, and was the eldest of three sons of a retired naval officer who resided in Edinburgh. He was the pride and glory of the branch of the army to which he belonged, and the beau-ideal of what a Horse Artilleryman should be. He served with great credit in Maj. Bull’s troop of R.H.A., in the Pa., from 1811 to 1813. It was in the campaign of 1811 that he performed the brilliant action which Napier’s facile pen has so strikingly illustrated. This happened on 5th May, 1811, when, the British cavalry out-guards being far outnumbered near Fuentes d’Onor, were driven in upon their supports, and Capt. Ramsay found himself cut off. It is a matter of history how Ramsay, at the head of his battery, charged like a whirlwind through the French squadrons who intervened between his handful of men and the British troops, and rejoined the latter in safety when given up for lost. And at the battle of Vittoria, Ramsay again distinguished himself, but, by an unfortunate act of disobedience to Wellington’s orders, he incurred the Iron Duke’s iron displeasure. The story has been told as follows by a well-known author, and differs somewhat from the account given by Col. Duncan in his _History of the Royal Artillery_:—“I remember hearing a striking instance of what, perhaps, might be called severe justice, which he exercised on a young and distinguished officer of artillery in Spain; and though one cannot help pitying the case of the gallant young fellow who was the sacrifice, yet the question of strict duty, to the very word, was set at rest for ever under the Duke’s command, and it saved much after trouble, by making every officer satisfied, however fiery his courage or tender his sense of being suspected of the white feather, that implicit obedience was the course he must pursue. The case was this: The army was going into action. The Duke posted an officer, with his six guns, at a certain point, telling him to remain there until he had orders from him. Away went the rest of the army, and the officer was left doing nothing at all, which he didn’t like; for he was one of those high-blooded gentlemen who are never so happy as when they are making other people miserable, and he was longing for