ing mmediately to your quarters. If you have come here for the purpose of decoying Maria from this house, I can tell you, that whatever inclination she once might have felt for this foolish young man, she is now better advised, and does not wish to be troubled with him any more." ney; he evinced no feeling of any kind his mind seemed to be in a state of the utmost confusion. Next morning, the Portuguese boy brought him intelligence that Maria had passed through the village very early, escorted by her relations, on her way to a nunnery, about three leagues distant, where she was destined to remain, until our army advanced. This took place in a few days after, and they never met again. Henry's mind had been strained far beyond its pitch-it was now unnerved-and he fell into a state of listless melancholy, from which he did not recover for many months.-Recollections of the Eventful Life of a Soldier. VARIETIES. LAND. "Let me hear that from her own lips," cried Henry in a frenzied tone, "and I will give my word that I will never trouble her again." A short consultation was held by the family, and after some minutes delay, Maria was brought down stairs, trembling and weeping. But all their endeavours could not force her to repeat the words which they wished her to say. At length, Henry, as if inspired with more than his natural energy, exclaimed, "I find that every fresh effort of mine only causes you additional restraint and mortifica- ANECDOTE OF THE DUKE OF tion. I must now cease to hope, and take a last farewell of her I value more than any being upon earth. I long cherished the idea, that we might be united-I loved her with no common love and I had the more than mortal happiness to say, that that love was returned-but adverse fortune has torn us asunder, and dooms me to wretchedness. They have cruelly parted us in this world, Maria, but we may yet meet. Suffer me," said he, "to take a last farewell, and I will trouble you no more." This was spoken with such an impassioned voice and gesture, that it had a visible effect on those around. Maria, who had been restrained by the lady of the house, now broke from her, and fell Into Henry's arms;-while he pressed her to his bosom, a new spirit seemed to animate him-his eyes brightened—and putting his hand into his breast, where he had a pistol concealed, "Let us carry her off, James," (said he to me in English)" or die in the attempt." "Then you will die before you reach the door," said I; for the house was now filled with the retainers of the family; and, as if they suspected his purpose, Maria was torn shrieking from his arms. Afraid that he might be induced to commit some rash act, I hurried him out of the house, and we returned home. I endeavoured to lead him into conversation, but he appeared not to hear me, nor did he speak a word during the jour CUMBER AFTER the peace of Aix-la-Chapelle, a number of officers of regiments were reduced. One of these gentlemen accidentally introducing himself into a subscription billiard-room, at a coffee-house near St. James's, found the Duke of Cumberland, his late Majesty's uncle, at play with a Colonel of the guards; it was a match for a considerable sum, and the termination of it was looked for with apparent eagerness by the numerous spectators. His Royal Highness lost the game, and immediately putting his hand into his pocket, discovered he had lost a gold snuff-box, on the top of which was a fine portrait of Frederick of Prussia, set round with brilliants. A general confusion ensued; the door was immediately locked, and a search called for, which was readily assented to by all present except the stranger, who declared he would lose his life before he would submit to the proposal; little doubt was then entertained but he was the pickpocket, and resistance appeared useless. The indignant soldier then requested that His Royal Highness would honour him with a private interview: to this the Duke instantly assented, and the company remained in the greatest suspense. On entering the room, the officer thus addressed the Duke-" May it please your Royal Highness, I am a soldier; but my sword is no longer of service to me or my country, and the only means I have to support the character of a gentleman (which no distress shall induce me to forfeit), is the half-pay which I receive from the bounty of my sovereign; my name is C, my rank, a lieutenant, in the Old Buffs. I dined this day at a chop-house, where I paid for a rump steak; but eating only half of it, I have the remainder wrapped up in paper in my pocket, for another scanty meal at my humble lodgings;" and immediately producing it, added, "I am now, Sir, ready to undergo the strictest search." "I'll be dd if you shall," replied the Duke; and on their returning to the billiard-room, the flap of His Royal Highness's coat struck against the entrance; when it was discovered that the seam of his pocket was unsewed, and the lost valuable was safe in the silk lining. A few days after, the gallant officer received a captain's commission, with a flattering letter of promise from the Royal Duke, of future promotion. JOSEPH II. said the facetious sovereign, “I can 66 Perhaps better still." "What the devil," said the poor serjeant, shrinking into a corner of the caléche, "Can you be Field Marshal?" He feigned a grave voice, and said, "Something better still." "Ah! my God! it is the Emperor." "Himself," said Joseph, unbuttoning his plain coat, and showing his decorations. There was no room for kneeling in the caléche, and the poor fellow, in an agony, entreated the Emperor to let him alight. "No, no, not yet," said Joseph, It is well known that Joseph II. disliked parade and ostentation, and indulged his taste for simple and private habits. One day, when riding out in a small caléche, which he drove himself, and attended only by one servant, he was overtaken by heavy rain, and returned towards Vienna; he was yet at some distance, when a person on foot, who was also going in that direction," after having eat my pheasant, you hearing the noise, turned and made a sign to the driver to stop. Joseph stopped his horse. "Sir," said the traveller, who was a serjeant, "if it be not too great a liberty, I should be glad of a lift, you have room enough, and I should save my uniform, which I put on new this morning." "Let us save the uniform, my brave fellow," said Joseph, "place yourself here. Where do you come from just now?" "Ah, ah, where do I come from; I come from the house of a gamekeeper, one of my friends, who has given me a famous breakfast." "What had you then?" "Guess." "Nay, how can I guess,-beef? soup?" "Well done: yes, soup, and better than that." "Some choucrote?"-The serjeant chuckled, and repeated, "better than that." "A breast of veal then ?" would be too lucky if you got rid of me so easily; I shall certainly see you to your quarters:" and thus continuing to amuse himself, he drove him to them, after promising him to forgive him, for having made a poaching meal at his royal expence. GENEROSITY. THE deputies of a town in Germany once offered Marshal Turenne 100,000 crowns not to pass with his army through it. "Gentlemen," said he, "I cannot in conscience accept your money, as I had no intention to pass that way. LONDON:-Printed by JosEPH LAST, 3, Edwardstreet, Hampstead-road; and published by W. M. CLARK, 19, Warwick-lane, Patern sterrow; J. PATTIE, 17, High-street, Bloom-bury, No, better than that." "Well then," and may be had, by order, of all coks.hers, in town and country. [NAPOLEON ATTEMPTING THE PASSAGE OF THE BRIDGE.] On the night of the 14th of November, 1796, the army destined to decide the fate of Italy, by the glorious achievements at Arcola, with Napoleon at its head, crossed the Adige, and took the road to Milan The hour of departure, the route, the universal ignorance in regard to their destination, all inspired the belief that they were about to retreat, and relinquish to their insulting rivals the beautiful plains of Italy. They arrived at Ronco before daybreak. When the officers and men, who knew the country from having pursued Wurmser through it, saw the bridge at Ronco as the day broke, they understood, for the first time, the plan their general had adopted. A general feeling of joy was immediately diffused over the whole army. "The little corporal is going to turn Caldiero, and lead VOL. I. us on to certain victory," cried the men, as they hurried over the temporary bridge, which shook and creaked beneath their feet and the weight of the artillery and waggons. Napoleon having perceived, during a former action at Caldiero, that the position was too strong to be carried by an attack in front, had resolved to assail it in flank, by the village of Arcola, and for that purpose placed his army in the midst of the immense morasses which stretched from thence to the banks of the Po. The position which he had chosen was singularly well adapted for the purpose which he had in view.Three roads branch off from the bridge of Ronco; one, following the left bank of the Adige, leads towards Verona; one in the centre leads straight to Arcola, by I a stone bridge over the stream of the Alpon; the third, on the right, follows the descending course of the Adige to Albaredo. These three roads, in nearly their whole extent, are narrow causeways, having deep bogs and swamps on either side of them. Three columns were moved forward on these three roads; that on the left was destined to approach Verona, and observe that town, so as to secure it from any sudden attack of the enemy; the centre column proceeded direct to the village of Arcola; that on the right, to cut off their retreat. At daybreak on the 15th, Massena advanced on the first road as far as a small eminence, which brought him in sight of the steeples of Verona, and removed all anxiety in that quarter Augereau, with the centre division, pushed, without being perceived, as far as the bridge of Arcola; but his advanced guard was there met by three battalions of Croats, who kept up so heavy a fire on the head of the column, that, notwithstanding the greatest exertions on the part of the men, they were driven back. In vain Augereau himself hastened to the spot, and led them back to the charge: the fire at the bridge was so violent, that he was overthrown and compelled to halt the column. Meanwhile Alvinzi, whose attention was fixed on Verona, where he imagined the bulk of the enemy's force to be, was confounded in the morning at hearing a heavy firing in the marshes. At first he imagined that it was merely a few light troops, but intelligence soon arrived from all quarters that the enemy were advancing in force on all the dikes, and threatened the flank and rear of his position. He immediately ordered a division commanded by Metrouski on the dike of Arcola, and another under Provera on the left dike marched against the division of Massena. The latter column soon commenced an attack on their antagonists, but they were unable to withstand the impetuous shock of Massena's grenadiers, and were repulsed with great loss, besides a great many taken prisoners. Metrouski, at the same time, passed through Arcola, crossed the bridge, and attacked the corps of Augereau, but they also were repulsed and followed to the bridge by the victorious French. There commenced a desperate struggle; the Republican column advanced with the utmost intrepidity, but they were received with so tremendous a fire from the artillery in front and a line of infantry stationed along the banks of the Alpon in flank, that they staggered and fell back. Napoleon, deeming the possession of Arcola indispensable not only to his future operations, but to the safety of his own army, put himself with his generals at the head of the column, seized a standard, advanced without shrinking, through a tempest of shot, and placed it on the middle of the bridge; but the fire there became so violent that his grenadiers hesitated, and seizing the general in their arms, bore him back amidst a cloud of smoke, the dead and the dying. The Austrians instantly rushed over the bridge, and pushed the crowd of fugitives into the marsh, where Napoleon lay up to the middle in water, while the enemy's soldiers for a minute surrounded him on all sides. The French grenadiers soon perceived that their commander was left behind; the cry ran through the ranks, "Forward to save the general!" and returning to the charge, they drove back the Austrians, and extricated Napoleon from his perilous situation. The soldier who had remarked where the general fell, and who was the first to drag him from the bog, was a poor Venetian volunteer in the French service; and who thus became the means of saving the life of the man who a short time after destroyed Venice. During this terrible struggle the French loss was frightful. Excepting Napoleon scarcely an officer of distinction escaped wounds or death. Lannes received three wounds; Generals Vignolles, Belliard, and Robert, were killed while leading on their troops; and Muiron, one of the commander-in-chief's favourite aids-decamp, seeing a shell about to burst, threw himself between it and Napoleon, and fell dead almost at his feet. In the mean time Guieux, who commanded the column which had been directed against Albaredo, had arrived at that place, and was directly in the rear of the village of Arcola; but it was too late. During the desperate stand there made by the Austrians, Alvinzi had gained sufficient time to withdraw his baggage and artillery, and it was no longer possible to take the enemy in rear. To wards evening the Austrians abandoned Arcola, and drew up their army facing the marshes, at the foot of the heights of Caldiero. During the night, Napoleon, on his side, drew back his forces to the right bank of the Adige, leaving only an advanced guard on the left bank; while the Austrians reoccupied the village of Arcola and all the ground which had been so vehemently disputed on the preceding day. They even advanced, in the confidence of victory, along the dikes, to within about six hundred yards of the village of Ronco; but when they were thus far engaged in the defiles, the French attacked them with the bayonet, and drove them, after an obstinate engagement, to the vicinity of Arcola. The battle continued the whole day, with various success, and at nightfall both parties retired-the Austrians over the Alpon, and the Republicans across the Adige. During the whole of these eventful days, big with the fate of Italy and the world, the conduct of the Austrian generals was timid, and unworthy of the brave troops whom they commanded. Again the sun rose on this dreadful scene of carnage, and both parties advanced, with diminished numbers, but undecaying fury, to the struggle which was to decide the fate of Italy. They met in the middle of the dikes, and fought with the utmost animosity. The French column in the centre was routed, and driven back so far, that the Austrian balls fell upon the bridge of Ronco, where the action was restored by a regiment which Napoleon had placed in ambuscade among the willows on the side of the road, and which attacked the victorious column in flank, with such vigour, that they were almost all driven into the marshes. Massena, on his dike, experienced similar vicissitudes, and was only enabled to keep his ground by placing himself at the head of the column, and leading the soldiers on with his hat on the point of his sword. The measures now adopted by Napoleon were completely successful. The Austrians, while bravely resisting in front, hearing a cannonade on their rear, and the trumpets of a whole division of cavalry in their flank, gave way, after a desperate struggle of three days' duration, yielding the victory to their enemies.-The total loss of the French amounted to 15,000 men, while that of the Austrians was estimated at 18,000. The battle of Arcola, with its desperate chances and perilous passages, was the object of universal admiration. The French people were never weary of celebrating the genius which had selected, amidst the dikes of Ronco, a field of battle where numbers were unavailing, and courage irresistible; and the heroic intrepidity which made the soldier forget the general, and recalled the exploits of the knights of romance. Everywhere medals were exhibited of the young general on the Bridge of Arcola, with the standard in his hand, in the midst of the fire and smoke. The Councils decreed that the Army of Italy had deserved well of their country, and that the standards which Napoleon and Augereau had borne on that memorable occasion, should be given to them, to be preserved as precious trophies in their families. THE DESERTED WIFE. A FAITHFUL NARRATIVE. "I was the only child of John and Eliza Denning, of the town of in the county of In the year 1802, I resided with my parents, a happy and comfortable home. They were very strict as to what acquaintances I formed, even amongst my own sex. Indeed, from the peaceful life I led with my careful and watchful parents, I had but little inclination to roam from that roof, from that home, where my every wish, my every inclination was studied, and, if possible, met-sometimes to a fault. Thus glided on my days in domestic peace and happiness, and I scarcely knew what care was. One summer's eve, when the lovely sun was retiring to rest, I was watching the last rays of his golden beams, and viewing the majesty of his retirement, when a young officer thus addressed me: "Is not that a splendid sight, my fair young maid?" Seeing an officer so near me, I started, and said, "Indeed it is, Sir, a splendid sight;" for there was a placidity and benignity in his smile that soon drove away my fear. He added, smiling, "I see a more lovely spectacle." "Indeed, Sir, where?" I looked towards a most lovely cottage, beautifully situated I 2 |