English line was about twelve hundred yards, and, midway, the little village of Elvina was held by the picquets of the latter nation.

The late arriva. of the transports, the increasing force of the enemy, and the disadvantageous nature of the ground, augmented the difficulty and danger of the embarkation.

All the encumbrances of the army were shipped in the night of the 15th, and morning of the 16th, and every thing was repared to withdraw the fighting men, as soon as the darkness would permit them to move without being perceived. ' The precautions taken would, without doubt, have ensured the success of this difficult operation, but a more glorious event was destined to give a melancholy, but graceful termination to the campaign. About two o'clock in the afternoon, a general movement along the French line gave notice of the approaching battle of Corunna.

The British infantry, fourteen thousand five hundred strong, occupied the inferior range of hills already spoken of. The right was formed by Baird's division, and from the oblique direction of the range, approached the enemy, while the centre and left were of necessity withheld in such a manner, that the French battery on the rocks raked the whole of the line. General Hope's division, crossing the main road, prolonged the line of the right wing, and occupied strong ground abutting on the muddy bank of the Mero. A brigade from Baird's division remained in column behind the extremities of his line, and a brigade of Hope's was posted on different commanding points behind the left wing. The reserve was drawn up near Airis, a small village situated in the rear of the centre. This last point commanded the valley which separated the right of Baird's division from the hills occupied by the French cavalry; the latter were kept in check by a regiment detached from the reserve, and a chain of skirmishers extending across the valley, connected this regiment with the right of Baird's line. General Fraser's division remaining on the heights immediately before the gates of Corunna, was prepared to advance to any point, and also watched the coast road. These dispositions were as able as the unfavourable nature of the ground

would admit of, but the advantage was all on the enemy's side. His light cavalry, under Franceschi, reaching nearly to the village of St. Christopher, a mile in the rear of Baird's division, obliged Sir John Moore to weaken his front, by keeping Fraser's division until Soult's plan of attack should be completely developed. There was, however, one circumstance to compensate these disadvantages. In the Spanish stores were found many thousand English muskets; the troops exchanged their old rusty and battered arms for these new ones; their ammunition also was fresh, and their fire was therefore very superior to their adversaries', in proportion to the numbers engaged.

General Laborde's division being come up, the French force could not be less than twenty thousand men; and the Duke of Dalmatia having made his arrangements, did not lose any time in idle evolutions, but distributing his lighter guns along the front of his position, opened a heavy fire from the battery on his left, and instantly descended with three solid masses to the assault. A cloud of skirmishers led the way, and the British picquets being driven back in disorder, the village of Elvina was carried by the first column, which afterwards dividing, one half pushed on against Baird's front, the other turned his right by the valley. The second column made for the centre. The third engaged the left by the village of Palavia Abaxo. The weight of the French guns overmatched the English sixpounders, and their shot swept the position to the centre. Sir John Moore observing that, according to his expectations, the enemy did not show any body of infantry beyond that which, moving up the valley, outflanked Baird's right, ordered General Paget to carry the reserve to where the detached regiment was posted, and, as he had before arranged with him, to turn the left of the French attack, and menace the great battery. Then directing Fraser's division to support Paget, he threw back the fourth regiment, which formed the right of Baird's division, opened a heavy fire upon the flank of the troops penetrating up the valley, and with the 50th and 42d regiments, met those breaking through Elvina.

Sir John Moore proceeded to the 42d, addressing them in these words, "Highlanders, remember Egypt."-They rushed on, driving the French before them, till they were stopped by a wall. Sir John accompanied them in this charge, and told the soldiers that he was "well pleased with their conduct."

He sent Captain Hardinge to order up a battalion of guards to the left flank of the Highlanders; upon which the officer commanding the light company conceived that, as their ammunition was nearly expended, they were to be relieved by the guards, and began to fall back; but Sir John, discovering the mistake, said to them, "My brave 42d, join your comrades, ammunition is coming, and you have your bayonets." They instantly obeyed, and all moved forward.

While earnestly watching the progress of the battle, Sir John Moore was struck in the left breast by a cannon-ball; the shock threw him from his horse with violence. Captain Hardinge perceiving his situation, threw himself from his horse, and took him by the hand; Sir John raised himself with some difficulty, but sat up with a countenance unaltered, gazing intently at the Highlanders warmly engaged in the ranks before him; no sigh betrayed a sensation of pain; but when informed that the 42d were advancing, his countenance immediately brightened. His friend Colonel Graham now dismounted to assist him; and from the composure he assumed, entertained hopes that all would yet be well; but his real situation was soon perceptible; the shoulder was shattered to pieces, the arm hung by a piece of skin, the ribs over the heart broken and bared of flesh, and the | muscles of the breast torn into long strips, which were interlaced by their recoil from the dragging of the shot. As the soldiers

General Paget, conformably to his orders, hastened to the right with the reserve. Colonel Beckwith dashed on with the rifle corps, repelling the enemy, and advancing on their flank. They penetrated so far, as nearly to carry one of their cannon; but were at length forced to retire, before a much superior corps, who were moving up the valley. General Paget attacked this corps with the 52d, and some more of the reserve, and quickly repelled it. He pressed on to a great distance, dispersing every thing in his front, till the enemy, perceiving their left wing quite exposed, drew it entirely back.

The French then advanced upon the centre, where the Generals Manningham and Leith successfully resisted their onset. The ground there being more elevated, and favourable for artillery, the guns were of great utility. An effort was likewise made on the left, which was very unavailing; for the position on that side was strong. But a corps of the French took possession of a village on the road to Betanzos, from which they continued to fire; on which, Lieutenant Colonel Nicholls boldly attacked the village with some companies of the 14th, and beat out the enemy with loss.

Light now began to fail, and the French had fallen back on every point; yet the roaring of cannon, and report of musketry, continued till dark.

If at this time General Fraser's division had been brought into action along with the reserve, the enemy could hardly have escaped a signal overthrow; for the little ammunition Soult had been able to bring up was nearly exhausted, the river Mero, with a full tide, was behind him, and the difficult communication by the bridge of El Burgo was alone open for a retreat. On the other hand, to continue the action in the dark was to tempt fortune, for the French were still the most numerous, and their ground was strong. The disorder they were in offered such a favourable opportunity to get on board the ships, that Sir John Hope, upon whom

in which the church stands, twelve virgins of Meissen met it, with baskets of flowers in their hands, and they walked before the bride up the avenue of limes, strewing flowers in her path, and singing a holy hymn.

The church was crowded. According to the custom in Saxony, the fair locks of Maria were adorned with a coronal of virgin roses, and never did a lovelier bride or worthier bridegroom approach the altar. At last they came forth, and the bells rung merrily out, and the sun shone. How very bright it shone !

Home they drove through blessings followed by blessings. As they passed the quarter of the troops, Altenberg's second in command had prepared him a parade of honour. His brave dragoons were drawn up dismounted, and saluted him with those swords peacefully dropped before him, with which there was scarce a man among them not ready to defend him or Maria to the death.

Soon after the regiment of Altenberg was moved into Dresden. How soon, how immediately did Maria fall into the happy, home-loving, domestic wife! The one great holiday passed, she put off the bride was friend, companion, help.

At the period of which I treat, that great enigma, Napoleon, was in Dresden. He had taken up his residence in the gardens of Count Marcolini, a sequestered spot of shade and beauty, in the suburb of Frederickstadt.

During the whole period of the armistice, there was a glitter and a tumult in the city that very ill accorded with Maria's notions of life; but there was peace in the apartments of Altenberg, peace in the sound of his voice, and in the whispers of her own bosom.

"If," (what a word that if is !") "if," said Altenberg, "this armistice should end in a general and happy understanding; if the French retire beyond the Rhine, and this detestable war and unnatural atliance cease, I will resign, Maria, and take that farm of Ulrich's, near Meissen. It is a pretty peaceful spot, and quite large enough for happiness.'

other evening in Wallenstein? those achings of the heart of Max Piccolomini after peace and love-that mourning dissatisfaction with which he looks back on the blood and teil in the path he has been treading those vivid pictures, or visions rather, of countries through which he passed ere war had reached them?"

He replied in the very words of the dramatist

"Most gladly would I give the blood-stain'd laurel For the first violet of the leafless spring,

Pluck'd in those quiet fields where I have journey'd.

Every hour during this period there were troops arriving and departing; parades, reviews; streets, squares, walks, full of uniforms, and feathers of all colours waving in the wind.

One day we met the emperor as we returned home from the picture gallery: Maria had never yet seen him. He was coming up the street of Pirna on horseback, at a foot-pace, several yards ahead of his small suite. He seemed absorbed in thought. Just as they approached, his horse fell with him. Altenberg ran forward to his assistance. He had already disengaged himself, and stood perfectly still and calm. The animal lay some minutes, before Altenberg, with the assistance of one of Napoleon's equerries, could make it rise. Contrary to his usual temper, the emperor manifested no impatience, took no interest in his charger, nor noticed those who were assisting. With a marble cheek, and pressed lips, and a fixed eye, he stood lost to all that was passing around him; until one of his led horses was brought up from the rear of the escort, which, with the same abstracted air, he slowly mounted, and then proceeded forward at a walk, buried deep in some gloomy reflections.

"My love," he replied, taking her hand affectionately in his, "you must not

be so weak; remember, you are the wife of a soldier, and you must not indulge in vague and idle fears. If, and remember there is the same Providence upon the most confused field of battle as in the most secure and peaceful hamlet, if I am taken from you, you will not be left alone." On the night of the 15th the French ambassador returned from Prague: the emperor left Dresden for Silesia, and war was no longer doubtful.

The morning of the 24th brought to Maria the first dreaded separation from her Altenberg. I visited her from time to time throughout the day. It was rumoured in the city, that the combined armies of Russia and Austria were advancing from the frontiers of Bohemia in prodigious strength; and that the French and Saxon force left for the protection of Dresden was quite unequal to any effec- | tual resistance, though it was well known they would make a brave effort to defend Dresden. The day was long, blank, never ending. Here mustered a detachmentthere moved a working party; but no news from the advanced posts-nothing known, but that the enemy was advancing. Maria struggled to be calm, and with success; but she was quite unequal to conversation.

I called on her the next morning at an early hour: she had evidently not slept, and looked very ill. Nothing more was known than the day before. Every minute she rose-every minute she walked to the window, and seemed much distressed and very nervous at the ticking of the clock-and it sounded very solemn: the hand of the clock moved on, tick— tick-tick, a voice unnoted when we are happy and at ease: but in periods of silent trial, when fear and hope, doubt and suspense are our companions, each vibration reaches to the heart's core. In the afternoon some prisoners were sent in -fierce looking bushy-bearded cossacks. "Is Baron Altenberg well?" I heard Maria call aloud, and I ran to her at the window. "He is well, lady; and the heavy horse will not lie half a league off to night,” replied a soldier of his corps, leading a wounded horse in company with this escort. Maria ran into her chamber, staid a few minutes, and came out again, smiling through scarce dried

tears.

Before the dawn of aay on the 26th

was heard that heart-depressing sound with which we peaceful citizens of Germany are too well and too painfully acquainted the report of cannon in the direction of Pirna. The sound was dull, and seemed more distant than it was; but it fell heavy upon Maria's heart, and she walked up and down the room in silence. After a while the firing became louder, quicker, and musketry might be distinguished. There was a cry, "The Prussians are in the Grossen Garten!" The inhabitants were clasping their hands in the street, and resigning themselves to the most terrible apprehensions. At the very moment when they expected to see the allies within the walls in arms, and the city at their mercy, column upon column poured over the bridges on the Elbe, and Napoleon, that stern child of destiny, rode smiling at their head; and on every side was heard again, "Vive Napoleon!"-"Vive l'Empereur !"— Safety and victory seemed identified with his presence; and Maria, that feared him, and had shuddered at him, thought of Altenberg, and waved her white handkerchief from the window, and cried aloud, "Vive Napoleon !"

The dispositions of the emperor were soon made, and at the end of about three hours the enemy completed theirs, and made their grand attack. The whole city shook-the connonade was awful-hundreds of cannon were in hot and incessant play—no pause—death in every discharge-death in every echo ; and it lasted on on-hour after hour. No news from the field, though slightlywounded men, with bandaged arms and heads, came dropping into the city fast towards evening. Maria and I were at the window: as a party passed by, a shell fell among them; and a young grenadier of the imperial guard, with a bandaged arm, was slain before our eyes in that place that seemed so safe. From this moment Maria would not leave the window. The thought of Altenberg exposed, amid the dread thunder to which she listened; to such a death as this she saw, was not endurable in perfect safety.

She seemed glad to feel that there was some exposure, some personal insecurity for her; and she leaned out of the open window, listening to the fearful sounds, and taking no count of time. The merciful night came. The allies, re