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above it, and on which a few marksmen were perched. From these points the defenders were driven into their last castle, which, being higher and larger than the others, and covered by a natural ditch or cleft in the rocks fifteen feet deep, was called the Donjon.

5. There they made a stand, and the assailants, having advanced so far as to look into the rear of the rampart and star-fort on the table-land below, suspended the vehement throng of their attack for a while; partly to gather head for storming the Donjon, partly to fire on the enemy beneath them who were now warmly engaged with two battalions of Portuguese riflemen. These last were to have followed the 43rd, but seeing how rapidly and surely the latter were carrying the rocks, they had moved at once against the traverse on the other side of the marsh; and very soon the French defending the rampart being thus pressed in front, and warned by the direction of the fire that they were turned on the ridge above, seeing also the 52nd forming the extreme left of the division now emerging from the deep ravine beyond the star-fort on the other flank, abandoned their works. Then the 43rd, gathering a strong head, stormed the Donjon; some leaped with a shout down the deep cleft in the rock, others turned it by the narrow paths on each flank, and the enemy abandoned the loose walls at the moment they were being scaled; thus in twenty minutes 800 old soldiers were hustled out of this labyrinth yet not so easily, but the victors lost 11 officers and 67 men.

6. All the mountain was now cleared of the French, for the riflemen dropped perpendicularly from the greater Rhune upon the post of crags in the hollow and seized it with small loss; but they were ill-seconded by Giron's Andalusians, and hardly handled by the 34th French

regiment, which obstinately clung to the slope and covered the flight of the confused crowd rushing down the mountain behind them towards the connecting neck of land; at that point also all rallied and seemed inclined to renew the action, yet after some hesitation continued their retreat. This favourable moment for a decisive stroke had been looked for by the commander of the 43rd, but the officer intrusted with the reserve companies of the regiment had thrown them needlessly into the fight, thus rendering it impossible to collect a body strong enough to assail such a heavy mass.

7. The contest at the stone wall and star-fort, shortened by the rapid success on the hog's back, had not been very severe. Kempt, however, always conspicuous for his valour, was severely wounded; nevertheless he did not quit the field, and soon reformed his brigade on the platform he had thus so gallantly won. The 52nd, having turned the position by the ravine, was now approaching the enemy's line of retreat; but Alten, following his instructions, halted the division partly in the ravine itself to the left of the neck, partly on the table-land.

8. The signal guns from the Atchubia, which sent the light division against the Rhune, had also put the fourth and seventh divisions in movement against the redoubts of San Barbe and Grenada, and eighteen guns were instantly placed in battery against the former. While they poured their stream of shot, the troops advanced with scaling ladders, and the skirmishers of the fourth division soon got into the rear of the work; whereupon the French. leaped out and fled, and Ross's battery of horse artillery, galloping to a rising ground in rear of the Grenada Fort, drove them from there also; then the divisions carried the village of Sarre and the position beyond it, and advanced to the attack of Clausel's main position.

9. It was now eight o'clock, and from the smaller Rhune a splendid spectacle of war opened upon the view. On the left the ships of war, slowly sailing to and fro, were exchanging shots with the fort of Socoa; and Hope, menacing all the French lines in the low ground, sent the sound of a hundred pieces of artillery bellowing up the rocks, to be answered by nearly as many from the tops of the mountains. On the right the summit of the great Atchubia was just lighted by the rising sun, and 50,000 men, rushing down its enormous slopes with ringing shouts, seem to chase the receding shadows into the deep valley. The plains of France, so long overlooked from the towering crags of the Pyrenees, were to be the prize of battle, and the half-famished soldiers in their fury broke through the iron barrier erected by Soult as if it were but a screen of reeds.-Sir W. Napier.

Nievelle, the name of a small river to the south of Bayonne, in S.W. corner of France. It was here that Marshal Soult, one of Napoleon I.'s bravest generals, determined to oppose the entry of Wellington into France through the Pyrenees. He spent some months in the construction of fortifications along the river and on the neighbouring heights, which were spurs from the Pyrenees. Rhune and Atchubia, names of summits to offshoots from the Pyrenees.

artillery, cannon.

hog's back, ridge of the mountain.

exhausted, tired out.
assault, attack.

assailants, those attacking.
veterans, old soldiers.
rampart, fortification.
traverse, protected way.
labyrinth, winding way.
conspicuous,noted, distinguished.
brigade, a division of soldiers.
redoubts, small forts.

Sir W. Napier, who wrote this
graphic account of the com-
mencement of the battle, was
a commander under Welling-
ton, and also the historian of
the Peninsular War. The
battle was fought Nov. 10,
1813.

Where is Nievelle? Who commanded the battle on the British side? Who on the French? Describe the commencement of the battle. What regiment led the attack? In what part of the fortification did the French make a stand? What general displayed

great bravery though wounded? How many men attacked from the British side? What was the prize of the battle?

PEACE AND WAR.

How beautiful this night! the balmiest sigh,
Which vernal zephyrs breathe in evening's ear,
Were discord to the speaking quietude

That wraps this moveless scene. Heaven's ebon vault,
Studded with stars unutterably bright,

Through which the moon's unclouded grandeur rolls,
Seems like a canopy which Love has spread
To curtain her sleeping world. Yon gentle hills,
Robed in a garment of untrodden snow;
Yon darksome rocks, whence icicles depend,
So stainless, that their white and glittering spires
Tinge not the moon's pure beam; yon castled steep,
Whose banner hangeth o'er the time-worn tower
So idly, that rapt fancy deemeth it

A metaphor of peace;-all form a scene
Where musing solitude might love to lift
Her soul above this sphere of earthliness;
Where silence undisturbed might watch alone,
So cold, so bright, so still.

Ah! whence yon glare

That fires the arch of heaven?-That dark red smoke
Blotting the silver moon? The stars are quenched
In darkness, and the pure and spangling snow
Gleams faintly through the gloom that gathers round!
Hark to that roar, whose swift and deafening peals
In countless echoes through the mountains ring,
Startling pale Midnight on her starry throne!
Now swells the intermingling din; the jar,
Frequent and frightful, of the bursting bomb;
The falling beam, the shriek, the groan, the shout,
The ceaseless clangour, and the rush of men
Inebriate with rage:-loud and more loud

The discord grows; till pale death shuts the scene, And o'er the conqueror and the conquered draws His cold and bloody shroud. Of all the men

[graphic]

Whom day's departing beam saw blooming there,
In proud and vigorous health; of all the hearts
That beat with anxious life at sunset there;
How few survive, how few are beating now!
All is deep silence, like the fearful calm
That slumbers in the storm's portentous pause;
Save when the frantic wail of widow'd love

Comes shuddering on the blast, or the faint moan,
With which some soul bursts from the frame of clay,
Wrapt round its struggling powers.

The gray morn

Dawns on the mournful scene; the sulphurous smoke Before the icy wind slow rolls away,

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