pistol-shots, when Lord Wellington suddenly came up, and taking the personal command of the division, ordered it to retreat. Nor was there a moment to lose; for the enemy, with incredible rapidity, brought up both infantry and guns, and fell on so briskly, that it required all the skill of the General, and all the steadiness of the 52nd and 95th Rifles, to hinder the division from being forced into a serious engagement. A series of rapid and beautiful movements, however, a sharp cannonade, and an hour's march, brought every thing in good order to the grand position; while almost at the same moment, the opposite ridge was crowned by the enemy's masses, and the batteries began to play into the English ranks as they ascended the height. Meanwhile Reynier, taking the left-hand route, along which a Portuguese battalion had retired, arrived at St. Antonio de Cantara, in front of the third division; and before three o'clock, 40,000 French infantry were embattled on the two points, and the sharp musketry of the skirmishers arose from the dark-wooded chasms beneath.

There were at this time not more than 25,000 of the Allies in line, and even of these large numbers were moving from place to place, with the haste which always accompanies the taking up of ground not previously examined. Large intervals, moreover, showed themselves between the divisions, and the nature of the position, a ridge—not a table-mountain,-gave proof that few reserves could be concealed. Ney, who marked all this, was cager to attack. He sent off a dispatch to Massena, who remained a long march in the rear, with strong representations of the state in which matters stood; but the Prince of Esling was not willing that any decisive step should be taken, till he was himself at hand to direct it. It was well for the Allies that Ney's wishes were not accomplished. Massena did not reach this point till noon on the 26th, by which time the whole British and Portuguese army was assembled, and then it was too late to hope for success in any offensive operations, except by dint of superior daring and prowess.

How the battle of Busacco was fought and won, it is not necessary to describe. It was a fierce and obstinate combat, but, from first to last, the enemy struggled against disadvantages, and hence their loss exceeded ours by a proportion of three to one. Nevertheless, the ridge thus gallantly maintained, was of no value. Massena, filing to his right, was enabled to turn it, and as a necessary consequence the retreat was renewed. It was a melancholy movement; for the army, as policy and real humanity required, swept back with them towards the lines every living and dead thing that was valuable, and hence the columns were preceded and followed by, and not unfrequently intermixed with, crowds of wretched country people and droves of domestic animals. Meanwhile several daring exploits were performed by the British corps, which Lord Wellington left to operate upon the flanks and rear of the enemy. Coimbra, after receiving 5000 French sent into its hospitals, was surprised by Colonel Trant, and all the invalids, with their guards and attendants, were made prisoners. Frequent skirmishes, moreover, took place, between the rear-guard of the English and the French advance; and once the light division narrowly escaped a heavy loss. But at last the lines, which had been so long and so carefully constructed, were entered; the army halted on the plain below, and there was a sort of lull like that which in the natural world follows, for the most part, the fury of the hurricane.

We have spoken freely of the style which Colonel Napier has deemed it expedient to select as most appropriate to the expression of his opinion touching the merits of Lord Liverpool's Cabinet. It is certainly not remarkable either for humility or candour, nevertheless we are as fully convinced as he, that nothing but the firmness of Lord Wellington saved Europe at this momentous crisis. Colonel Napier has, with more of generosity than judgment, endeavoured to set up a parallel between Lord Wellington and Sir John Moore. By all means. It is far, very far, from our wish to detract from the renown of the illustrious dead, whose memory we profoundly venerate-but since our author has forced the task upon us, we can

only entreat any thinking man-we do not say any soldier-to contrast the tone of Lord Wellington's correspondence from the lines, with that of Moore at any given period in his public career. With the latter there was but one consideration, which never ceased to engross attention, namely, how are the British troops to escape? It was the burthen of his song, that the cause was desperate, that no reinforcements ought to be sent out, but that the means of transport should be provided, and held in constant readiness. How different the language held by Wellington! No doubt he was too prudent to neglect any matter, or to leave out of his calculations any chance. He therefore provided amply for the worst, but in direct opposition to the opinions of the ablest of his staff, and almost in defiance of the Government at home, he insisted that the Peninsula might yet be defended. Would the heroic Moore have acted thus,-he who ordered back troops actually sent to him, and desponded even when the Cabinet was most sanguine? And here we cannot but lament that Colonel Napier should, by an imprudent comparison, force upon us and upon the country in general, a remembrance of the one weak point in his hero's character-his want of just confidence in himself.

Our limits will not permit us to attempt more than a reference to the work itself, in regard to the nature of the lines, and to the proceedings of the belligerents during the period in which they were occupied. Both are admirably described, but especially the operations in Andalusia, the circumstances attending the blockade of Cadiz, the battle of Barossa, the series of blunders, and shameful cowardice which threw Badajoz into the hands of Soult. For ourselves we cannot afford to turn our eyes one moment from the splendid picture which is given of the breaking up of Massena, at Santarem, and his subsequent evacuation of Portugal. Yet even here we must lay a violent restraint upon our own inclinations. Greatly as we could wish to follow the historian march by march, we hold it impracticable to do so; but we must gratify the reader by transcribing for him the following spirited account of the affair, or skirmish, at Sabugal. It was full of blunders from beginning to end, no doubt brought on needlessly, and absolutely defeating a well-laid plan of the General in Chief. Yet it merits the high encomium bestowed upon it by Lord Wellington, "that it was one of the most glorious actions that British troops were ever engaged in."

"COMBAT OF SABUGAL.

"The morning was so foggy, that the troops could not gain their respective posts of attack with that simultaneous regularity which is so essential to success; and in the light division no measures were taken by Sir William Erskine to put the columns in a right direction: the brigades were not even held together, and he carried off the cavalry and the 3rd caçadores without communicating with Colonel Beckwith. This officer, who commanded the first brigade, being without any instructions, halted at a ford to await farther orders, and at that moment a staff officer rode up, and somewhat hastily asked, why he did not attack? The thing appeared rash, but with an enemy in his front he could make no reply, and instantly passing the river, which was deep and rapid, mounted a very steep wooded hill on the other side. Four companies of the 95th led in skirmishing order, and were followed by the 43rd regiment; but the caçadores and the other brigade, being in movement to the true point, were already distant, and a dark heavy rain setting in rendered it impossible for some time to distinguish friends or foes. The attack was thus made too soon, for, owing to the obscurity, none of the divisions of the army had reached their respective posts. It was made also in a partial, disseminated, and dangerous manner, and on the wrong point; for Reynier's whole corps was directly in front, and Beckwith, having only one bayonet regiment and four companies of riflemen, was advancing against more than twelve thousand infantry, supported by cavalry and artillery.

"Scarcely had the riflemen reached the top of the hill, when a compact and strong body of French drove them back upon the 43rd; the weather cleared at that instant, and Beckwith at once saw and felt all his danger; but he met it with a heart that nothing could shake. Leading a fierce charge he beat back the enemy,

and the summit of the hill was attained, but at the same moment two French guns opened with grape at the distance of a hundred yards, a fresh body appeared in front, and considerable forces came on either flank of the regiment. Fortunately, Reynier, little expecting to be attacked, had for the convenience of water, placed. his principal masses in the low ground behind the height on which the action commenced; his renewed attack was therefore up hill; yet the musketry, heavy from the beginning, now increased to a storm; the French sprung up the acclivity with great clamour, and it was evident that nothing but the most desperate fighting could save the regiment from destruction.

"Capt. Hopkins, commanding a flank company of the 43rd, immediately ran out to the right, and with admirable presence of mind seized a small eminence, close to the French guns and commanding the ascent up which the French troops turning the right flank were approaching. His first fire was so sharp, that the assailants were thrown into confusion; they rallied and were again disordered by the volleys of this company; a third time they endeavoured to form a head of attack; when Hopkins with a sudden charge increased the disorder, and at the same moment the two battalions of the 52nd regiment, which had been attracted by the fire, entered the line. Meanwhile, the centre and left of the 43rd were furiously engaged and wonderfully excited; for Beckwith wounded in the head, and with the blood streaming down his face, rode amongst the foremost of the skirmishers, directing all with ability, and praising the men, in a loud cheerful tone.

"The musket-bullets flew thicker and closer every instant, but the French fell fast, a second charge cleared the hill, a howitzer was taken, and the British skirmishers were even advanced a short way down the descent, when small bodies of French cavalry came galloping in from all parts, and obliged them to take refuge with the main body of the regiment. The English line was instantly formed behind a stone wall above; yet one squadron of dragoons surmounted the ascent, and, with incredible desperation, riding up to this wall, were in the act of firing over it with their pistols, when a rolling volley laid nearly the whole of them lifeless on the ground. By this time, however, a second and stronger column of infantry had rushed up the face of the hill, endeavouring to break in and retake the howitzer which was on the edge of the descent and only fifty yards from the wall; but no man could reach it and live, so deadly was the 43rd's fire. Meanwhile two English guns came into action, and the two battalions of the 52nd charging upon the flank of the assailants, vindicated the right of the division to the height. A squadron of French cavalry, which had followed the columns in their last attack, then fell in amongst the 52nd men, extended as they were from the circumstances of the action, and at first created considerable confusion, but it was finally repulsed.

"Reynier, convinced at last that he had acted unskilfully in sending up his troops piece-meal, put all his reserves, amounting to nearly six thousand infantry with artillery and cavalry, in motion, and outflanking the division on its left, appeared resolute to storm the contested height. But, at this critical period, the fifth division passed the bridge of Sabugal, the British cavalry appeared on the hills beyond the enemy's left, and Gen. Colville with the leading brigade of the third division issuing out of the woods on Reynier's right, opened a fire on that flank, which instantly decided the fate of the day. The French general hastily retreated upon Rendo, where the sixth corps, which had been put in march when the first shots were heard, met him, and together they fell back upon Alfayates, pursued by the English cavalry. The loss of the allies in this bloody encounter, which did not last quite an hour, was nearly two hundred killed and wounded, that of the enemy was enormous; three hundred dead bodies were heaped together on the hill, the greatest part round the captured howitzer, and more than twelve hundred were wounded; so unwisely had Reynier handled his masses, and so true and constant was the English fire. Although the principal causes of this disproportion undoubtedly was, first, the heavy rain which gave the French only a partial view of the British, and secondly, the thick wood which ended near the top of the hill, leaving an open and exposed space upon which the enemy mounted after the first attack; yet it was no exaggeration in Lord Wellington to say, "that this was one of the most glorious actions that British troops were ever engaged in."

The affair of Sabugal occurred on the 3rd of April 1811, and was the last skirmish of any importance in which Massena was involved, previous to the evacuation of Portugal. He was not followed beyond the position, but re

tired into cantonments in and around Salamanca, having lost five-and-thirty thousand men since he quitted that city less than a year before.

Having thus effected that which "to others it appeared incredibly rash and vain to attempt," Lord Wellington lost no time in seeking to remedy the faults of others. As soon as the retreat of Massena was fully ascertained, he had dispatched Marshal Beresford with a strong corps to act on the banks of the Guadiana, and to recover, if possible, the fortresses of Campo Mayor and Badajos. We will not follow the Marshal in this movement, partly because we have already exceeded the space which we had allotted to ourselves, and partly because we are unwilling to repeat censures, which have not once been recorded without extreme pain to ourselves. It is sufficient for our purpose if we say, that Beresford, having surprised Montbrun, during the march of a convoy, and secured Campo Mayor, took quarters at Elvas, where the materials necessary for further operations were collected. The troops had, however, actually passed the Guadiana when Lord Wellington himself reached Elvas, and something like a plan of campaign was arranged with Castaños and Blake. But there was no leisure granted for maturing this plan. Massena was again in movement towards the Agueda, for the relief, as was generally understood, of Almeida, and Lord Wellington hurried back to observe him.

Perhaps there is no portion of this eloquent volume which the general reader will peruse with more intense interest than that which describes the movements of the two armies prior to the battle of Fuentes d'Onore, during the progress of that battle, and subsequent to it. We would not willingly take away from his delight by spoiling, in an endeavour to abridge, a narrative so beautiful; but we must, as a specimen of the remainder, transcribe our author's description of an affair not less brilliant than any throughout the war. Colonel Napier is speaking of a critical moment, when the enemy's superior horse had borne down our feeble cavalry, and the infantry and guns stood upon a plain, exposed to all their fury.

"Houston's people, being thus entirely exposed, were charged strongly, and Capt. Ramsay's horse-artillery was cut off and surrounded. The light division instantly threw itself into squares, but the main body of the French horsemen were upon the seventh division, ere a like formation could be effected: nevertheless the troops stood firm, and, although some were cut down, the Chasseurs Britanniques, taking advantage of a loose wall, received the attack with such a fire that the enemy recoiled. Immediately after this, a great commotion was observed amongst the French squadrons; men and officers closed in confusion towards one point where a thick dust was rising, and where loud cries. and the sparkling of blades and flashing of pistols, indicated some extraordinary occurrence. Suddenly the multitude was violently agitated, an English shout arose, the mass was rent asunder, and Norman Ramsay burst forth at the head of his battery, his horses breathing fire and stretching like greyhounds along the plain, his guns bounding like things of no weight, and the mounted gunners in close and compact order protecting the rear. But while this brilliant action was passing in one part, the enemy were making progress in the wood, and the English divisions being separated and the right wing turned, it was abundantly evident that the battle would soon be lost, if the original posi tion was not immediately regained."

With this extract we shall conclude our notice of a volume, than which we again declare, that we have met with none in any language more full of beauties, and very few, we grieve to add, so disfigured with faults. We break off thus abruptly, because were we to proceed further, we must necessarily touch upon the delicate ground of " Albuera's strife," a subject not only open to much and violent controversy, but not yet, as far as we know, fairly explained. That the battle cost dear, all parties are agreed; and that the victory was as much owing to the stubborn valour of the British troops, as to the skill displayed by their leaders in handling them, even the officer in command has never denied,-but how far Lord Beresford lies open to the violent charges brought against him by Colonel Napier, we are not prepared

to say. We are given to understand, however, that his Lordship is even now preparing a statement in reply to that of our author.

There is too much manliness in the character of Colonel Napier to permit us to doubt that he will interpret our observations in the spirit of justice and duty which prompts them. It may be even useful to him to know that we represent upon this subject the feelings and opinions of a large portion of his brother soldiers. It is, we need not say, infinitely more agreeable, as well as habitual to us, to swell his well-earned trophies, by adding our deepfelt tribute to his eminent merits as a writer-a soldier-and a man.

CAPTAIN HALL'S FRAGMENTS OF VOYAGES AND TRAVELS.*

THIS book is modestly recommended by the author to the use of young persons chiefly, but we believe that few persons of any age, however advanced, will peruse it without being conscious of a salutary spice of admonition silently penetrating to some distempered corner of their heart, and correcting a latent evil. It evinces throughout a delicate perception of the consequences of our conduct as it regards the feelings of others, which bears more particularly upon the duties of the higher stations of life.

To persons in power, its pages are a vehicle of important hints and judicious advice; while to the young and subordinate, instruction is conveyed through the fascinating medium of lively narrative and interesting adventure; thus insensibly implanting in youthful minds the seeds of good feeling to ripen with profit to their future career, by inculcating the maxim, that sound principle is the only true guide to honour; and that nine-tenths of our success depends upon ourselves. On this account we hope that no young gentleman will hereafter enter public life without having read these vofumes; especially, if he be intended for a place of constituted authority. In the case of parents having so great an objection to their sons imbibing a taste for the sea, as to withhold the History of Robinson Crusoe from their perusal, we would recommend them to keep back this book also, as we fear it might, like that bewitching history, derange their plans, by giving the young gentlemen a relish for salt water.

Capt. Hall's refutation of the hackneyed assertion, that school days are the happiest time of life, will find a ready welcome in the heart of every schoolboy; for schoolboys are seldom so well satisfied with the indispensable discipline of this stage of life, as not to sigh for their emancipation; and pant with eager hope for that delightful period when their minds, as well as limbs, shall be free as air, and the world with all its pleasures be spread out before them. To the fallacy of this old-fashioned notion we can speak from experience, and we can add our testimony that Capt. Hall is not the only thoughtful school-boy who has exclaimed, "If it is certain that my future life is to be more wretched than this, which is now so full of misery, what, alas! is existence worth?" and who has found himself agreeably disappointed in after life. For the benefit of our pensive young friends, we shall quote our author's sentiments on this subject.

"In this terrified frame of mind, I dived into various other works, but, to my sorrow, very seldom met with any thing of a more consolatory nature. Nor was it till many years' trial of the wear and tear of actual life, that I came to learn the fallacy of most of these assertions respecting the comparative happiness of school; and to feel assured, that the whole, or nearly the whole matter, lies essentially with

* Fragments of Voyages and Travels, including Anecdotes of a Naval Life; chiefly for the use of young persons. By Capt. Basil Hall, R.N.

U. S. JOURN. No. 32. JULY 1831.

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