278 Passages fro a Military Journal. 



and the edge of the declivity now bristling with bayonets, and 

 crowded with the British shakoes. Little, indeed, could those in the 

 rear see of their companions in danger. Lines of caps and feathers, 

 glancings of the bayonet, flashes of the muskets, and the ring of the 

 ramrods were all that could be seen or heard. 



The infantry were now fast descending the bank, and we began 

 to advance towards the edge of the declivity. The rapid flashes 

 which darted arrow-like out of the rolling smoke in the wood, indi-~ 

 cated that all in that quarter were keeping up a brilliant fire. Balls 

 were flying in every direction, and the shapes that I could see every 

 where falling in the smoke, indicated that many were having their 

 desired effect. The battle thundered on in the most invigorating 

 style. 



Bang! bang! (the stunning reports of the artillery on either 

 side) crack ! crack ! crack ! crack ! rattle, rattle, rattle, (the 

 lively roll of the heaviest fusilade I had yet been exposed to) 

 bang ! bang ! whiz ! (shots darting overhead, and singing the 

 death song of many a brave fellow) crash ! (a cannon ball tearing 

 through the branches of a tree a little distance off, splintering some 

 arms and sweeping off a quantity of others; blowing away their 

 leaves in a shower, and pelting us with shattered twigs). Bang! 

 " Oh, my God !" " Are you hurt, Robinson ?" " My wrist shattered 

 with" a musket ball, captain." "Go to the rear: who is that just 

 struck at your side ?" " Milligan, your honour." " Is he killed, 

 O'Brien?'' "Killed your honour, faith I don't know. Is it killed 

 you are, Milligan my boy ?" A groan the only answer. " Carry 

 him off to the rear. Forward, boys! the first company are forcing 

 the tower!" (Two or three huzzas in the smoke rolling under the 

 walls). Bang ! bang ! crack ! crack ! crack ! rattle, rattle. 



Shouts were ringing before us. We could scarcely bridle our 

 impatience, and the sweeping pace at which we were advancing 

 seemed hardly to satisfy our ardour. Little could be seen in the 

 smoke. The dismounted hussars around, with their bared sabres, 

 were, however, distinguishable enough. Their ranks displayed a 

 quantity of intervals. A good many killed and wounded were 

 extended or groaning on the sward. Blood was upon the grass; 

 shakoes with torn and dusty plumes ; embroidery defiled with gore ; 

 masterless sabres and swordless scabbards. As we swept on we 

 strode over or stumbled at many of the light infantry soldiers, shot 

 down in the ranks or torn with balls ; abandoned muskets ; officers 

 pale as ashes ; the scarlet of their uniforms yet redder ; struggling 

 to rise, or assisted to the rear by a few of their men. The rattle of 

 the assault still kept on before us. I could hear the balls strike the 

 walls in the smoke, and the tumbling or shattered bricks falling on 

 the heads of the assailants, or ground to dust. Tiles were being struck 

 off the roofs, rents made in the tottering walls, and large portions 

 knocked off the buttresses, angles, and projections. The firing was 

 very hot from right to left ; but the speed with which the companies 

 of infantry were advancing, and the consequent progress which we 

 were enabled to make, was a cheering proof that some impression 

 was being made ahead, on the defences of the enemy. 



