In the mean time the deadly strife fiercely raged in the plain they had just left; but the assailants were worsted; and after a contest of some duration, they betook themselves to flight, once more seeking the shelter of the wood. The scene now became truly terrific. The Indians, enraged at the loss of their comrades, amongst whom was their chief, flew to the fire round which they had been sitting when they were surprised; they snatched up the flaming brands, and hurled them amidst the trees. For weeks before not a drop of rain had fallen; the sun had shone with undiminished lustre, and had extracted every drop of moisture from the herbage on the ground, as well as from the underwood, with which the forest was thickly studded. The brands were scattered on every side, and in an instant dense flames arose from every quarter. The shouts of the Indians can only be compared to the cries with which fiends hail their victims. They knew that the flames would overtake the defeated party before they could thread the mazes of the almost impervious wood into which they had "penetrated; they knew that for miles a similar open space to that which they occupied would not be found; and calculated upon the destruction of their foes by the agency of the most terrible and fatal of all the elements. They themselves took an opposite route; for discovering the escape of their pri soners, they set off, bearing with them their dead, in hopes of again surprising and retaking them. The fire spread rapidly, and soon reached the spot where Mrs. Ridley and Hammond remained. She had just revived to a consciousness of her wretched state, when the flames, darting through the trees, and the thick sulphureous smoke which darkened the air, filled her with new apprehensions. In vain she roused her self, to seek with Hammond an outlet from this scene of horrors; not one could be found. The flames surrounded them on every side; they' assumed a fiercer, a more brilliant aspect; and if the prospect could have been contemplated without a sense of danger, it must have excited emotions of profound awe and admiration. For some time these unihappy fugitives struggled with the difficulties that surrounded them; but nature was soon exhausted, and Mrs. Ridley once more became unconscious of the perils by which she was surrounded. MY OLD CLOAK. A RAMBLER WHAT transitions there are in the dangers and reverses of war, the world!" I exclaimed, as I wrap-which had been my coverlet in the ped the ample folds of my old mili- tent, and my shelter in the bivouac, tary cloak round two of my children, through all the hardships and chanseated in the after part of the pony-ges of the seasons, should now be chaise in which my wife and I were turned to so peaceable a purpose, about to take our diurnal airing. To was matter of meditation to me durconceive that my old cloak, which had ing the first half hour of our drive, been my constant companion in all and drew upon me the familiar accu noble repose at the bottom of a chest, only to be brought out occasionally for the amusement of the children, or for the purpose of exciting a military ardour in my second boy, whom I destine for the military college, I must confess myself under a load of obligation; it being to these, and a tolerably good leg, that I consider myself indebted for the highest prize in the lottery of life, a kind and affectionate wife: for, whatever may be my good qualities, I cannot suppose, that in a ball-room, where our eyes first crossed rays, and when each retired wounded from the field, she could have had pene✩ tration enough to discover at a glance, the virtues of my mind or heart. But to my old cloak I am, if possible, still more indebted; for without it I should not now be alive to enjoy the blessings of a comfortable home, or to bring up brats for the service of my country. sation of being "particularly dull this morning." I could not help it; I had got into a reverie, and reveries, as well as hobbies, must have their swing before they can be stopped. My poor cloak! many a dream have I had in thee, and why should I not bestow a few waking thoughts on an old friend and comrade? Of all my military insignia, preserved for the admiration of my posterity, this I most prize. My sword, to be sure, as it hangs over the mantelpiece, surmounted by my sash in a graceful festoon, may look more martial and more pompous; but neither that, nor its companion, occupies, a place so near my heart as my old cloak, whose weather-beaten surface bears a strong analogy to the visage of its veteran master. The sword, God bless it! fierce as it looks, is altogether innocent of human blood; for in all my dangers, and I have seen a few, I never had occasion to use it, except in hacking wood for the winter's bivouac, or in toasting my scanty rations. The sash, although intended, as I have understood, to serve as a litter to carry its owner off the field when wounded, I never found to be used for that purpose, having, like most parts of dress, descended from use to ornament. 'Tis true, it has occasionally served to bind up a wound, or to act as a sling for a disabled arm; and for those kind offices I feel myself indebted to it. Towards the beguiler of my barrack-hours, my time-killing German flute, and to my case of man-killers, now ready at the call of honour, though happily guiltless of a comrade's blood, I cannot but look back with some degree of affection. To my lady-killers, or full-dress regimentals, which now slumber in ig-green, entertainment for man and In the apostrophe I had made on the transitions of life, my own fate, as well as that of my cloak, could not but cross my mind. It was matter of gratitude to the Father of mercies that I should have to be a principal object in the group assembled at my cottage-door. It was a family piece worthy of the pencil of a Wilkie; and as such I shall, as far as my feeble pen will allow, endeavour to describe it. Foremost stands a shaggy Shetland pony, which, with the addition of a little ochre, might have sat for the sign-painting of the Red Lion, and would certainly have stood competition with most of the delineations of that noble animal, depending over the doors of village alehouses, denoting, like the stocks and pound on the contiguous. horse. To this somewhat equivocal- || camps to battles, from battles to looking quadruped is attached a low charges. Involuntarily I flourished four-wheeled vehicle, the manufac- my whip; I dug my heels into the ture of the village carpenter; the seat-board; the pony dashed off at contents of which consist of a tall, full speed; and I had already, in erect, weather-beaten, one-armed, imagination, crossed bayonets with rather red-nosed gentleman, about the enemy, when suddenly I was forty years of age, in a blue surtout roused from my reverie by the chaise coat, somewhat the worse for wear, coming in contact with a wheelbarand a black stock; a trim good-look-row. ""Tis thus in war," cried I; ing wife about ten years younger, whose glistening eyes are turned towards the door of the house, where a baby, with arms extended, seems in the act of flying after the carriage out of the nurse's arms; a six-year old miniature of mamma occupying the post of honour between the parents, and two chubby-faced brats behind peeping through the collar of the old cloak aforesaid. As outrider to this dashing turn-out, a ruddy freckled boy, about eight years old, bestrides a picturesque donkey in all the pride of juvenile assmanship; and last, though not least, being full six feet high, stands, in a military posture at the pony's head, my old companion in arms and faithful servant, Pat, who has followed me into my retirement to help me to enjoy the otium cum dignitate of a half-pay captain, his honest potatoe face vying with our little spaniel || Cartridge, who stands wagging his tail at the party, in the expression of fidelity and affection, joined to a semi-parental look towards the younger part of the group, with a kind of leer, betokening a co-partnership in fun, lurking in the corner of his mouth, ready to be discharged at the boys as soon as his master's back is turned. As the cavalcade proceeded, the course of my thoughts naturally led from my cloak to the camp, from "the weak must give way to the strong. Poor wheelbarrow! the odds were too much against thee-four wheels to one. 'Tis true, thou art renversé, culbuté, as the French bulletins would say; but thou hast lost no honour in the encounter, and thou hast come off well with the loss of a limb!" A shrug of the shoulder, and a "fortune de guerre," followed as a matter of course. I threw the owner half-a-crown, and my reverie, as well as the wheelbarrow's leg, being completely broken, I resumed the jog-trot of life, much to my wife's satisfaction. "I beg your pardon, my dear," said I: "I was thinking of my old cloak; and, in drawing a contrast between its present and former uses, I was led on from one thing to another, till I found myself leading on my company to the charge. But to make up for the fright I have caused you, I will relate to you a dream which I once had in this old cloak. It was on the eve of the battle of Vittoria, as our division lay within a few miles of the enemy, I dreamt that we had a general action, in which I lost an arm from a cannon-shot; and that no surgeon being at hand, I died from the loss of blood. I supposed myself lying among other dead bodies, waiting for the last trumpet to call us to judgment. I had read in Scripture that we were to rise in seldom at any pains to rectify the mistake. While this was passing in my mind, and I was engaged in these metaphysical subtleties, suddenly the awful trumpet sounded. I started up at the noise, but could scarcely believe that I was actually awake and alive; for I heard the trumpet, or rather bugle, sounding in earnest. It was the first call for the march. I rubbed my eyes, fell in with my corps, and soon forgot my dream in the march and battle. Towards the end of the day, as you know, my arm was carried off by a cannoni ball. It was then that my dream rushed in full force upon my recollection. As far as the arm went it was verified; but, as I took all pos sible care to prevent the prognostic being fulfilled in toto, by bawling out lustily for a tourniquet, I am happily alive to communicate to you this remarkable dream, the forebodings of which, I confess, haunted me till my entire recovery. The extra our bodies, and I began to think what a pretty figure I should cut without my arm; for I could no where see it, the military sextons, who are not over nice in these particulars, having most likely deposited it in the neighbouring grave of some grenadier. At last I spied one at a short distance, which had on the facings of my regiment. I made a grab at it; but it would not fit at all, having been carried off full three inches higher up than my own. It had besides a large mutton fist attached to it, and the owner had been in the habit of biting his nails. Now I was particularly nice in my hands, and had no more disposition than Prior's lady to the looking "ugly when one's dead." I determined, however, to keep the arm by me, supposing the owner might have mine, in which case we might set each other to rights when we met at the general muster. In this perhaps I argued wrong; for I have since observed, that, if in a ball-ordinary coincidence of the last trumroom you happen to take home an pet and the first bugle, I leave to old hat instead of your own new philosophers to account for one, the proprietor of the former is .0 Bl l SKETCHES OF CHARACTER, MANNERS, AND THE STATE OF SOCIETY IN THE COUNTRY TOWNS OF ITALY. A (Continued from p. 30.) CONCERNING those airings which people take in Italy by the name of corso it is written, They please us not. While the natives of all those countries which are not shaped like a boot go abroad to change the oppressive atmosphere of towns for the pure air of the country, to be drawn by spirited steeds through luxuriant scenery, to roll along between flowery meads and golden corn-fields, and to revel in the charms of Nature; the inhabitants of Italy repair to the corso, to demonstrate in the clearest manner to all who are not Italians, how much misery may be crowded into the short space of an hour. Should any one be desirous of acquiring more precise notions of the said corso and all its pleasures, let him accompany me to the Porta nuova, or any other Porta of the good town of A. or B., through which, at the hour of six precisely, all who would that our visual organs may hope for or expect is an abundant share of dust. All these carriages are hermetically closed: that they are laden with choice treasures we can only conjecture; for as to seeing, that is totally out of the question. be reckoned genteel and fashionable must, ex officio, go forth to take their airing. Hark! the clock strikes, and the equipages are already in sight at the outlets of the nearest streets running towards the Porta muova, or other Porta, where we are already posted. We may survey them at our leisure as they pass; for the horses seem to have just strength sufficient to drag the machine to which they are attached to the place of destination, distant an Italian mile or thereabout, and back again to the town. Like the good steed of the far-famed knight of La Mancha, their modest wishes seem never to rise higher than to what is called a dogtrot; and one would be tempted to imagine that they had lost something in their last journey*, for nose and eyes are fixed stedfastly on the ground, which their feet skim so closely, that the lost article, were it but a pin, could scarcely escape them. Even without being a connoisseur in equine physiognomy, you may read in the faces of these animals, that their taste differs from the taste of their respective masters and mistresses, and that they heartily execrate the tedious promenade. We at the gate, indeed, ought to feel particularly obliged to their deliberation, as we shall thereby gain time and opportunity to have a good view of the fascinating females of Italy-for each carriage regularly contains one sample of them, together with her cavaliere servente-and thus enjoy a rich treat for our visual organs at least. Yes, if this prospect could be realized; but, alas! so far from it, all * Yesterday of course; for every even.nuine liberality, kick up for the being regularly at the same hour, they nefit of those that follow. Under are seen trailing the same machine out these circumstances, therefore, the at the same gate. y xi to ladies cannot adopt a more rational . wor But, that we may not deprive our eyes, the only organs after all for which any food is to be found in the corso, of their due gratification, we must quit our post at the gate and follow the said coaches, which, forming a long file, proceed slowly and solemnly, as though they were act、 ing a part in a funeral, to the place of their destination, where we may perhaps be more fortunate. On the way thither, however, an ample stock of patience is a most essential requi site; for beyond the gate, as well as in the town, the carriages continue closed, and there is still nothing to be seen. But how can the ladies, packed within so narrow a compass, breathe the fresh air, how enjoy a view of the picturesque landscape, how feast on the beauties of Nature? Such feasts, such gratifications, the moderate females of Italy do not covet: they are quite content with exchanging the air of the bottega for the air of the carriage; their eyes wander over its variegated sides, or perhaps the back of the coachman. It is true, that by letting down the windows of the coach, they would gain little or nothing, since the procession usually moves along a bare road, perhaps bounded on either side by high walls, where nothing is to be seen but dense clouds of dust, which the first carriages, with with ge |