His story was told the jeweller's coincided-but where was the lady? and the casket?. About two years afterwards, I made an official visit to the conciergerie, to attest the dying confession of a female, who had been arrested by the police as an agent of the Carlists, and had taken poison at the moment of apprehension. She was evidently sinking fast, and yet her eyes seemed to grow more lustrous, and her speech more articulate and pathetic, as the lividness of death overspread her beautiful countenance. There was a wild and fearful energy in her manner, as if she dreaded that life would fail ere she could unburden her conscience of its secret load. She began "My name is Madeline Alaine, otherwise Jeanne Patignon, otherwise the Comtesse de L.' CASTIGATIONES.-No. 1. (For the Parterre). Ir has been jocosely remarked, that Editors are not creatures of flesh and blood, and that they have no sympathies.-We think otherwise. The Editors of our Magazines are not deficient in sense and judgment; but their good-feeling is sometimes indulged at the expense of their readers. How else may we account for the strange articles which now and then find a place among first-rate contributions? In the New Monthly Magazine for October, there is a paper headed "Recollections of the Author of Waverley," the reading of which filled us with special wonder. The writer, once (if the whole story be not a fabrication, — and we should be sorry to say it is) paid a visit to Sir Walter Scott, who treated him with great condescension and kindness. His guest, soon after, sent the illustrious author an antique ring, and received in return a most gracious letter, from which the following is said to be an extract :— "Allow me to assure you how much I am obliged for the ring you sent me, and flattered by the accompanying note. I think with you, that the head on the stone is a Julius Cæsar, as the date, illegible as it is (!) farther convinces me. Now we can only say, that if Sir Walter did write such egregious nonsense as this, the publication of it in a popular Magazine, ought to operate for ever as a warning to great men who suffer small people to creep into their confidence. But it is hardly possible to believe that Sir Walter did write it. How could one so well versed in mediæval antiquities be so ignorant of those of an earlier date, as to be in doubt about the remarkable portrait of the great dictator? Why there is scarcely a school-boy who would fail to identify it. Then, as to the date, every body the least versed in antiquities knows that dates, in the ordinary acceptation of the word, are not found even upon Roman coins, except on one or two remarkable ones. As to dates upon gems of the description sent by the writer to Sir Walter, the thing is too absurd to need a single remark here. The writer then goes on to inform us, that he paid a visit to Melrose Abbey, where "a raven" had built her nest in the ruins, her young ones disturbing the silence of the sacred place with their "screaming." On this, we have only to remark, for ravens, read jackdaws; but the raven, the crow, the rook, and the jackdaw, are always confounded together by cockneys; and the writer is one of that tribe, as will be further seen. The paper goes on to state, that the writer, in the autumn of 1828, joined a shooting party at Abbotsford; and that, though he could not boast of being a crack shot, he nevertheless went out with shot-belt and double-barrelled gun, (how imprudent to trust such a man with firearms!) as if actually bent on slaughter. Well, the fowling-piece of one of the party (perhaps it was the gentleman's own piece which he was trailing after him on full cock, in the usual manner of a London exquisite), exploded, and lo! the charge went through Sir Walter's hat! The author of Waverley, rejoicing that the careless booby had not blown off his head, lifted his hat, through which, says the writer, the ball had passed, without injury to the wearer. We have heard of some sportsmen who boasted that they could bring down grouse upon the wing with a single bullet, but we were really not prepared for this last story, and were foolish enough to believe that our northern friends killed their feathered game with small shot-not with musket-balls! K. THE SORROWS OF SLEEPINESS. A PROSAIC EPIGRAM. "I do not deny, my dearest Jane," said the blooming, sentimental, and, in spite of herself, buxom Eliza, "that I seem to * Ravens croak !-Printer's Devil. enjoy all I could wish-money-society, and if I can believe those wicked creatures, the men-some beauty, and more than three devoted lovers. Yet I take high heaven to witness-(Eliza's halfstifled sobs were here audible)-I am supremely miserable!" "And wherefore so, my Eliza?" responded Jane. something vastly interesting and romantic in that high souled sensitiveness and delicacy of feeling, which keeps the eyes wide open, through the whole of a long winter's night; which damps the downy pillow with tears, strews the feather couch with thorns, and deprives its possessor of the vulgar oblivion of sempstress-like sound sleep!" "Ah! my dearest Angelina," replied Eliza, "with what elegance and feeling you express yourself! I dare say you are not oppressed with this noctural invader as I am!" "No," answered Angelina Miranda Drippingsip; "I rarely sleep above an hour during any night, and that only at intervals." "Oh!" exclaimed the outrivalled Eliza, "how provoking! This is the way with every body but me; yet, I am sure, it is not for want of feeling, for, at this moment, I could shed tears by pailfuls! Pray how did you conquer vulgar sleep so far as you have done, my Angelina; and how shall I be able to do so also, and so become worthy of your lofty friendship?" "Oh! my dear girl," replied Eliza, "I am such a horrid creature-have such a milk-maid constitution, from the father's side of our family, that I sleep soundly every night, do what I will! It is this unfortunate circumstance which prevents my obtaining that elegant languidity, that inexpressibly interesting absence of red in one's cheek,-that heroine-like complexion, upon which I doat to distraction. I am as healthy as if I had no feeling! I read the most delightful novels; and, though my mind is occupied with the distresses of the hero or heroine, I sleep as soundly-(can you believe it?)—as if I did not at all sympathise with either! Nay, I even fell asleep last night at twelve o'clock, though I had only two volumes remaining, out of the eleven, to peruse of Clara St. Clair's Woes of the Soul, or the Sorrows of Satisfaction.' So inveterate is my propensity, that when Henry laughed, and behaved so cruelly to me the other day, though I wept sincerely about it, yet that very crying set me asleep like a child; and then my aunt, who knows my infirmity, rallied me so upon it!" "I did not think she would have done their wine: "Ah! things will not a thing so cruel," observed Jane. "It was cruel, indeed," replied Eliza; "but she tells me a hundred times, that though I try as much as I please, I shall never resemble any of my favourite heroines, so long as I have good healthan appetite for food-ruddy cheeks, and sound sleep. Now, I am determined to part with all these, if she be in the right, as I almost think she is. Heaven knows, my mind is well stored with all the virtues of romances. I constantly fancy myself as being run off with,-persecuted, or in some one or other of these interesting situations; yet I can't, for the life of me, keep my eyes open five minutes, after laying my head on my pillow!" "To be sure -at this juncture, simpered the blue-eyed and pale faced Angelina Miranda Drippingsip, who had kept a half pitying, and half scornful silence, during the former part of the conversation, which took place in the saloon of Mr. Bull's library-"to be sure, there is Miss Drippingsip replied,—“ I drink strong tea-have a nervous habit-and sleep all the forenoon!"—The Cameleon. HORRORS OF THE SIEGE OF We have often heard intelligent and wellmeaning people remark, as they sipped improve, until there comes a good stirring war! We have too many idlers."-To the good folks who entertain such an opinion, we venture to recommend the perusal of the following account which Colonel Napier gives of the assault of Badajoz : "The night was dark but clouded, the air thick with watery exhalations from the rivers, the ramparts and the trenches unusually still; yet a low murmur pervaded the latter, and in the former, lights were seen to flit here and there, while the deep voices of the sentinels at times proclaimed that all was well in Badajos. The French, confiding in Phillipon's direful skill, watched, from their lofty station, the approach of enemies whom they had twice before baffled, and now hoped to drive a third time blasted and ruined from the walls; the British, standing in deep columns, were as eager to meet that fiery destruction, as the others were to pour it down; and both were alike terrible for their strength, their discipline, and the passions awakened in their resolute hearts. trenches, met Picton, who hastened forward to take the command. Meanwhile "Former failures there were to avenge, his troops spreading along the front, and on either side such leaders as left no reared their heavy ladders, some against excuse for weakness in the hour of trial; the lofty castle, some against the adjoinand the possession of Badajoz was become ing front on the left, and, with incredible a point of honour, personal with the courage, ascended amidst showers of soldiers of each nation. But the strong heavy stones, logs of wood, and bursting desire for glory was, in the British, shells, rolled off the parapet, while from dashed with a hatred of the citizens on the flanks the enemy plied his musan old grudge; and recent toil and hard- ketry with a fearful rapidity, and in ship, with much spilling of blood, had front, with pikes and bayonets, stabbed made many incredibly savage: for these the leading assailants or pushed the things render the noble-minded indeed ladders from the walls; and all this ataverse to cruelty, but harden the vulgar tended with deafening shouts, and the spirit. Numbers also, like Cæsar's cen- crash of breaking ladders, and the shrieks turion, who could not forget the plunder of crushed soldiers answering to the of Avaricum, were heated with the sullen stroke of the fallen weights. Still, recollection of Ciudad Rodrigo, and swarming round the remaining ladders, thirsted for spoil. Thus every spirit these undaunted veterans strove who found a cause of excitement; the won- should first climb, until all being overdrous power of discipline bound the turned, the French shouted victory; and whole together as with a band of iron, the British, baffled, but untamed, fell and, in the pride of arms, none doubted back a few paces, and took shelter under their might to bear down every obstacle the rugged edge of the hill. Here, that man could oppose to their fury. At when the broken ranks were somewhat ten o'clock, the castle, the San Roque, re-formed, the heroic Colonel Ridge, the breaches, the Pardaleras, the distant springing forward, called, with a stenbastion of San Vincente, and the bridge- torian voice, on his men to follow, and, head on the other side of the Guadiana, seizing a ladder, once more raised it were to have been simultaneously assailed, against the castle, yet to the right of the and it was hoped that the strength of the former attack, where the wall was lower, enemy would shrivel within that fiery and an embrasure offered some facility. girdle. But many are the disappoint- A second ladder was soon placed alongments of war. An unforeseen accident side the first, by the grenadier officer delayed the attack of the fifth division; Canch, and the next instant he and and a lighted carcass, thrown from the Ridge were on the rampart, the shouting castle, falling close to where the men of troops pressed after them; the garrison the third division were drawn up, dis- amazed, and in a manner surprised, were covered their array, and obliged them to driven fighting through the double gate anticipate the signal by half an hour. into the town, and the castle was won. Then every thing being suddenly dis- A reinforcement, sent from the French turbed, the double columns of the fourth reserve, then came up; a sharp action and light divisions also moved silently followed, both sides fired through the and swiftly against the breaches, and the gate, and the enemy retired; but Ridge guard of the trenches, rushing forward fell, and no man died that night with with a shout, encompassed the San more glory-yet many died, and there Roque with fire, and broke in so vio- was much glory. During these events, lently that scarcely any resistance was the tumult at the breaches was such as if made. But a sudden blaze of light, and the very earth had been rent asunder the rattling of musquetry, indicated the and its central fires were bursting upcommencement of a most vehement com- wards uncontrolled. The two divisions bat at the castle. There General Kempt had reached the glacis just as the firing -for Picton, hurt by a fall in the camp, at the castle had commenced, and the and expecting no change in the hour, flash of a single musket, which was diswas not present: there General Kempt, charged from the covered way as a signal, I say, led the third division; he had shewed them the French were ready; passed the Rivillas, in single files, by a yet no stir was heard, and darkness narrow bridge, under a terrible mus- covered the breaches. Some hay-packs quetry, and then re-forming, and running were then thrown, some ladders were up the rugged hill, had reached the foot placed, and the forlorn hopes and stormof the castle, when he fell severely ing parties of the light division, about wounded, and being carried back to the five hundred in all, had descended into the ditch without opposition, when a bright flame shooting upwards displayed all the terrors of the scene. The ramparts, crowded with dark figures and glittering arms, were seen on the one side, and on the other the red columns of the British, deep and broad, were coming on like streams of burning lava; it was the touch of the magician's wand, for a crash of thunder followed, and with incredible violence the storming parties were dashed to pieces by the explosion of hundreds of shells and powder barrels. For an instant the light division stood on the brink of the ditch, amazed at the terrific sight; then, with a shout that matched even the sound of the explosion, flew down the ladders, or disdaining their aid, leaped, reckless of the depth, into the gulf below; and nearly at the same moment, amidst a blaze of musketry that dazzled the eyes, the fourth division came running in and descended with a like fury. There were, however, only five ladders for both columns, which were close together, and a deep cut made in the bottom of the ditch, as far as the counter-guard of the Trinidad, was filled with water from the inundation; into this watery snare the head of the fourth division fell, and it is said that above a hundred of the fusileers, the men of Albuera, were thus smothered. Those who followed, checked not, but as if such a disaster had been expected, turned to the left, and thus came upon the face of the unfinished ravelin, which being rough and broken was mistaken for the breach, and instantly covered with men yet a wide and deep chasm was still between them and the ramparts, from whence came a deadly fire wasting their ranks. Thus baffled, they also commenced a rapid discharge of musketry, and disorder ensued; for the men of the light division, whose conducting engineer had been disabled early, and whose flank was confined by an unfinished ditch intended to cut off the bastion of Santa Maria, rushed towards the breaches of the curtain and the Trinidad, which were indeed before them, but which the fourth division were destined to storm. Great was the confusion, for now the ravelin was quite crowded with men of both divisions; and while some continued to fire, others jumped down and ran towards the breach, many also passed between the ravelin and the counter guard of the Trinidad; the two divisions got mixed, and the reserves, which should have remained at the quarries, also came pour ing in, until the ditch was quite filled, the rear still crowding forward, and all cheering vehemently. The enemy's shouts also were loud and terrible: and the bursting of shells and of grenades, the roaring of the guns from the flanks, answered by the iron howitzers from the battery of the parallel, the heavy roll and horrid explosion of the powderbarrels, the whizzing flight of the blazing splinters, the loud exhortations of the officers, and the continual clatter of the muskets, made a maddening din. Now a multitude bounded up the great breach, as if driven by a whirlwind; but across the top glittered a range of sword-blades, sharp-pointed, keen-edged on both sides, and firmly fixed in ponderous beams, which were chained together, and set deep in the ruins; and for ten feet in front the ascent was covered with loose planks, studded with sharp iron points, on which the feet of the foremost being set, the planks moved, and the unhappy soldiers, falling forward on the spikes, rolled down upon the ranks behind. Then the Frenchmen, shouting at the success of their stratagem, and leaping forward, plied their shot with terrible rapidity, for every man had several muskets; and each musket, in addition to its ordinary charge, contained a small cylinder of wood stuck full of leaden slugs, which scattered like hail when they were discharged. Again the assailants rushed up the breaches, and again the sword-blades, immovable and impassable, stopped their charge, and the hissing shells and thundering powder barrels exploded unceasingly. "Hundreds of men had fallen, and hundreds more were dropping; but still the heroic officers called aloud for new trials, and sometimes followed by many, sometimes by a few, ascended the ruins; and so furious were the men themselves, that, in one of these charges, the rear strove to push the foremost on to the sword-blades, willing even to make a bridge of their writhing bodies, but the others frustrated the attempt by dropping down; and men fell so fast from the shot, that it was hard to know who went down voluntarily, who were stricken, and many stooped unhurt that never rose again. Vain also would it have been to break through the swordblades; for the trench and parapet behind the breach were finished, and the assailants, crowded even into a narrower space than the ditch, would still have been separated from their enemies, and the slaughter would have continued. "At the beginning of this dreadful conflict, Colonel Andrew Barnard had, with prodigious efforts, separated his division from the other, and preserved some degree of military array; but now the tumult was such, that no command could be heard distinctly, except by those close at hand, and the mutilated carcasses heaped on each other, and the wounded, struggling to avoid being trampled upon, broke the formations: order was impossible! Yet officers of all stations, followed more or less numerously by the men, were seen to start out, as if struck by a sudden madness, and rush into the breach, which, yawning and glittering with steel, seemed like the mouth of some huge dragon belching forth smoke and flame. In one of these attempts, Colonel Macleod, of the forty-third, a young man whose feeble body would have been quite unfit for war, if it had not been sustained by an unconquerable spirit, was killed. Wherever his voice was heard, there his soldiers gathered; and with such a strong resolution did he lead them up to the fatal ruins, that when one behind him, in falling, plunged a bayonet into his back, he complained not, and, continuing his course, was shot dead within a yard of the sword-blades. But there was no want of gallant leaders, or desperate followers. Two hours spent in these vain efforts convinced the soldiers that the breach of the Trinidad was impregnable; and as the opening in the curtain, although less strong, was retired, and the approach to it impeded by deep holes and cuts made in the ditch, the troops did not much notice it after the partial failure of one attack, which had been made early. Gathering in dark groups, and leaning on their muskets, they looked up with sullen desperation at the Trinidad; while the enemy, stepping out on the ramparts, and aiming their shots by the light of the fire-balls which they threw over, asked, as their victims fell, Why they did not come into Badajoz?' 6 "In this dreadful situation, while the dead were lying in heaps and others continually falling, the wounded crawling about to get some shelter from the merciless fire above, and withal a sickening stench from the burnt flesh of the slain, Captain Nicholas, of the engineers, was observed by Mr. Shaw, of the fortythird, making incredible efforts to force his way with a few men into the Santa Maria bastion. Shaw having collected about fifty soldiers of all regiments, joined him, and although there was a deep cut along the foot of this breach also, it was instantly passed, and these two young officers, at the head of their gallant band, rushed up the slope of the ruins; but when they had gained twothirds of the ascent, a concentrated fire of musketry and grape dashed nearly the whole dead to the earth! Nicholas was mortally wounded, and the intrepid Shaw stood alone! After this no further effort was made at any point, and the troops remained passive, but unflinching, beneath the enemy's shot, which streamed without intermission; for, of the riflemen on the glacis, many leaping early into the ditch had joined in the assault, and the rest, raked by a cross fire of grape from the distant bastions, baffled in their aim by the smoke and flames from the explosions, and too few in number, had entirely failed to quell the French musketry. "About midnight, when two thousand brave men had fallen, Wellington, who was on a height close to the quarries, sent orders for the remainder to retire and re-form for a second assault; for he had just then heard that the castle was taken, and thinking the enemy would still hold out in the town, was resolved to assail the breaches again. This retreat from the ditch was, however, not effected without further carnage and confusion, for the French fire never slackened, and a cry arose that the enemy were making a sally from the distant flanks, which caused a rush towards the ladders; then the groans and lamentations of the wounded who could not move, and expected to be slain, increased; many officers who had not heard of the order endeavoured to stop the soldiers from going back, and some would even have removed the ladders, but were unable to break the crowd. "All this time the third division was lying close in the castle, and either from a fear of risking the loss of a point which ensured the capture of the place, or that the egress was too difficult, made no attempt to drive away the enemy from the breaches. On the other side, however, the fifth division had commenced the false attack on the Pardaleras, and on the right of the Guadiana, the Portuguese were sharply engaged at the bridge; thus the town was girdled with fire, for General Walker's brigade having passed on during the feint on the Pardaleras, was escalading the distant bastion of San Vincente. His troops had advanced along the banks of the river, and reached the French guard |