chosen battalion, hitherto posted on the right, remained to cover the retreat. Meanwhile Brown, receiving his orders, had marched headlong against Ruffin. Nearly half of his detachment went down under the enemy's last fire; yet he maintained the fight until Dilke's column, which had crossed a deep hollow and never stopped even to re-form the regiments, came up, with little order indeed, but in a fierce mood, when the whole ran up towards the summit. There was no slackness on any side, and at the very edge of the ascent their opponents met them. A dreadful, and for some time doubtful fight ensued. Ruffin and Chaudron Rousseau, commanding the chosen Grenadiers, both fell, mortally wounded. The English bore strongly onward; and their incessant slaughtering fire forced the French from the hill, with the loss of three guns and many brave men. The defeated divisions retired concentrically, and having soon met, they endeavoured with great energy to re-form and renew the action; but the fire of Duncan's guns, close, rapid, and destructive, rendered the attempt vain. Victor was soon in full retreat, and the British having been twenty-four hours under arms, were too exhausted to pursue. In this brief but desperate fight, upwards of twelve hundred British soldiers, and more than two thousand Frenchmen were killed or wounded: from the latter, six guns, an eagle, and two Generals, both mortally wounded, were taken, together with four hundred other prisoners.

The activities of this spirited campaign were maintained in other places. Badajos was sorely pressed by the French. Early in March, the second parallel being completed, and the Pardaleras taken into the works, the approaches were carried by sap to the covered way; mines were also prepared to blow in the counter-scarp; and yet Rafael Menacho, the Governor,

was not dismayed: his sallies were frequent and vigorous; he constructed new entrenchments where necessary; and every thing went on prosperously till the evening of the 2d, when in a sally, in which the nearest French batteries were carried, the guns spiked, and trenches partly ruined, Menacho was killed, and the command fell to Imas, a man so unworthy that a worse could not be found. At once the spirit of the garrison died away, for cowardice is often contagious: the besiegers' works rapidly advanced, the ditch was passed, a lodgment was made on one of the ravelines, the rampart was breached, and the fire of the besieged being nearly silenced, on the 10th of March the place was summoned in a peremptory manner: not that there was the least need to surrender. A strong body of British and Portuguese were in full march for the relief of the place: this information had been communicated by telegraph, besides which Imas had been informed by a confidential messenger, that Massena was in full retreat. The breach was not practicable, provisions were plentiful, the garrison above eight thousand strong; the French army reduced by sickness and the previous operations to fewer than fourteen thousand men. Imas, however, instantly surrendered but he also demanded that his grenadiers should march out of the breach: this was granted, and he was obliged to enlarge the opening before they could do so. Yet this man, so overwhelmed with opprobium, was never punished.

Massena continued to retreat; and a skirmish, attended with some loss on both sides, unexpectedly took place at Pombal. The Commander just named was so closely followed by our division, that the streets being still encumbered, Ney drew up a rearguard on a height behind the town, and threw a detachment into the old castle. He had, however, waited too long: the French army was moving in

some confusion, and in an extended column of march by a narrow defile between the mountains and the Soire river, which was fordable; while the British divisions were in rapid motion on the left bank, with the design of crossing lower down, and cutting Massena's line of retreat: but darkness came on, and the operation terminated in a sharp conflict at Pombal, whence the 95th and the 3d Cacadores drove the French from the castle and town with such vigour, that the latter could not destroy the bridge, though it was mined for the purpose. Daybreak on the 12th saw both armies in movement; and eight miles of march brought the head of the British into a hollow way leading to a high table-land, on which Ney had disposed five thousand infantry, a few squadrons of cavalry, and some light guns. His centre was opposite to the hollow road, his wings were covered by the woody heights which he occupied with light troops. Behind him arose the village of Redhina, situated on low ground, in front of which were posted a division of infantry, a regiment of cavalry, and a battery of heavy guns, all so skilfully disposed as to give the appearance of considerable force. After examining the enemy's position for a short time, Lord Wellington first directed the light division to attack the wooded slopes covering Ney's right; and in less than an hour these orders were executed. The woods were presently cleared, and our skirmishers advanced even to the open plain beyond just then, the French battalions supported by four guns opened a heavy rolling fire, and at the same moment, Colonel Farriere, of the 3d French Hussars, charged, and took fourteen prisoners. This officer, during the whole campaign, had never failed to break in upon the skirmishers in the most critical moments; sometimes with a squadron, sometimes with only a few men: he was, however, sure to be found in the right place. The British light divi

sion, commanded by Sir William Erskine, consisted of five battalions of infantry, and six guns, and was formed so that it out-flanked the French right. It was also reinforced with two regiments of Dragoons: meanwhile Picton seized the woody heights protecting the French left, and thus Ney's position was exposed. Nevertheless, that Marshal observing that Lord Wellington, deceived as to his real numbers, was bringing the mass of the allied troops into line, far from retreating, even charged Picton's skirmishers, and continued to hold his ground with astonishing confidence. In this posture both sides remained for about an hour, when three shots were fired from the British centre as a signal for a forward movement, and a most splendid spectacle of war was exhibited. The woods seemed alive with troops, and in a few moments thirty thousand men, forming three gorgeous lines of battle, were stretched across the plain; but bending on a gentle curve, and moving majestically forward, while horsemen and guns springing simultaneously onward from the centre and left wing, charged under a volley from the French battalions: the latter were instantly hidden by the smoke; and when that cleared away, no enemy was to be seen. Ney keenly watched the progress of this grand formation, and having opposed Picton's foremost skirmishers with his left, withdrew the rest of his people with such rapidity that he gained the village before the cavalry could touch him: the utmost efforts of Picton's skirmishers and of the horse artillery scarcely enabled them to gall the hindmost of the French. One howitzer was, indeed, dismounted close to the bridge, but the village of Redhina was in flames. The Marshal was hard pressed, for the British were thundering at his rear; and the light troops of the 3d division chasing like heated blood-hounds, passed the river almost at the same time with the French: Ney, at length, fell back upon

the main body at Condeixa. The mind is sometimes impressed by trifling occurrences, especially when they take place unexpectedly, or are at all out of the common way. I remember that in the midst of the clangor and firing just described, a hare emerged from the woods, and for some time amused herself by sundry doubles and evolutions between the hostile lines ; at length, as if satisfied that enough had been seen, she suddenly disappeared. The other event is, that the tallest man I ever saw had been a private in the French ranks at Redhina; he was lying dead on the road side. Our forces continued to drive the enemy. Massena, in repairing to Fonte-Coberta, had left orders to fire Condeixa at a certain hour: these gentlemen left nothing willingly behind them, but ruin and desolation. In a few days we came up with the rear. Picton contrived to wind round the bluff side of a mountain about eight miles distant: as he was already beyond the French left, instant confusion pervaded their camp. The British immediately pushed forward; their advance was extremely rapid, and it is affirmed that the Prince of Essling, who was on the road, only escaped capture by taking the feathers out of his hat, and riding through some of the light troops. Condeixa being thus evacuated, the Bristish cavalry pushed towards Coimbra, and, cutting off Montbrun, captured part of his horsemen. The rest of the army kindled their fires, and the light division, in which, as usual, I was stationed, planted picquets close up to the enemy; but about ten at night the French divisions, whose presence was unknown to Lord Wellington, stole out, and passing along the front of the British posts, made for Miranda de Corvo. The noise of their march was heard, but the night was dark; it was imagined to be the moving of the French to the rear, and being so reported to Sir William Erskine, that officer put the light division in

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