poured copious volleys upon us, and with loud shouts cheered on their comrades to the assault.  As they approached and covered our mine, the train was fired, and up they went in the air, and down they fell buried in the ruins.  Groans, screams, confusion, French yells, British hurras rent the sky!  The hills resounded with the shouts of victory!  We sent them hand-grenades in abundance, and broke their shins in glorious style.  I must say that the French behaved nobly, though many a tall grenadier and pioneer fell by the symbol in front of his warlike cap.  I cried with rage and excitement; and we all fought like bull-dogs, for we knew there was no quarter to be given.

Ten minutes had elapsed since the firing began, and in that time many a brave fellow had bit the dust.  The head of their attacking column had been destroyed by the explosion of our mine.  Still they had re-formed, and were again half-way up the breach when the day began to dawn; and we saw a chosen body of one thousand men, led on by their colonel, and advancing over the dead which had just fallen.

The gallant leader appeared to be as cool and composed as if he were at breakfast; with his drawn sword he pointed to the breach, and we heard him exclaim, “Suivez moi!” I felt jealous of this brave fellow—­jealous of his being a Frenchman; and I threw a lighted hand-grenade between his feet—­he picked it up, and threw it from him to a considerable distance.

“Cool chap enough that,” said the captain, who stood close to me; “I’ll give him another;” which he did, but this the officer kicked away with equal sang froid and dignity.  “Nothing will cure that fellow,” resumed the captain, “but an ounce of lead on an empty stomach—­it’s a pity, too, to kill so fine a fellow—­but there is no help for it.”

So saying, he took a musket out of my hand, which I had just loaded—­aimed, fired—­the colonel staggered, clapped his hand to his breast, and fell back into the arms of some of his men, who threw down their muskets, and took him on their shoulders, either unconscious or perfectly regardless of the death-work which was going on around them.  The firing redoubled from our musketry on this little group, every man of whom was either killed or wounded.  The colonel, again left to himself, tottered a few paces further, till he reached a small bush, not ten yards from the spot where he received his mortal wound.  Here he fell; his sword, which he still grasped in his right hand, rested on the boughs, and pointed upwards to the sky, as if directing the road to the spirit of its gallant master.

With the life of the colonel ended the hopes of the French for that day.  The officers, we could perceive, did their duty—­cheered, encouraged, and drove on their men, but all in vain!  We saw them pass their swords through the bodies of the fugitives; but the men did not even mind that—­they would only be killed in their own way—­they had had fighting enough for one breakfast.  The first impulse, the fiery onset, had been checked by the fall of their brave leader, and sauve qui peut, whether coming from the officers or drummers, no matter which, terminated the affair, and we were left a little time to breathe, and to count the number of our dead.