"No, Hardinge, I feel that to be impossible." Several times he caused his attendants to stop and turn him round, that he might gaze on the field of battle, and when the firing indicated the advance of the British, he signified his satisfaction and permitted the bearers to proceed. On examination by the surgeons, the wound of Sir John Moore was at once pronounced to be mortal, and from increasing pain, he could speak but with difficulty. Observing his friend Colonel Anderson by his bed, he asked if the French were beaten, and then said, "You know, Anderson I have always wished to die this way—you will see my friends as soon as you can. Tell them everything. Say to my mother—' Here his voice failed from agitation, and he did. not again venture to name her. When his strength was fast waning, and little more than a glimmering of life remained, he said to Col. Anderson, “I hope the people of England will be satisfied, I hope my country will do me justice." After a while, he pressed the hand of Col. Anderson to his body; and in a few minutes died without a struggle. Thus fell Sir John Moore. Kind in feeling, generous in spirit, dauntless in heart,-no man was more beloved; none more lamented.

66

The night succeeding the action was passed in the embarkation of the troops. At ten o'clock they moved off the field by brigades and marched down to Corunna. Major General Beresford was posted with the rear-guard, on the lines fronting

Corunna, to watch the motions of the enemy. Major Gen. Hill, with his brigade, was stationed on an eminence behind the town, ready to afford support to Beresford, if necessary. The embarktion proceeded rapidly during the night, and no attempt was made to molest the covering brigades. On the following morning however, the enemy pushed forward a body of light troops to the heights of St. Lucia, which commanded the harbor, and, planting a few cannon, fired at the transports. At three o'clock Gen. Hill's brigade was withdrawn, and at night the rear-guard embarked without molestation from the enemy.

At twelve o'clock on the night of the 16th, the remains of Sir John Moore were removed to the citadel of Corunna. He had often said, that, if killed in battle, he wished to be buried where he fell; and it was determined that the body should be interred on the rampart of the citadel. A grave was dug by a party of the 9th regiment, the aidesde-camp attending by turns. No coffin could be procured; and the body without being undressed, was wrapt by the officers of his staff in a military cloak and blankets. The interment was hastened, for, about eight in the morning the sound of firing was heard, and they feared that, in the event of a serious attack, they might be prevented from paying their last duties to their General. The officers of his family bore him to the grave; the funeral service was read by the Chaplain; and the corpse

was covered with earth. The following is a beautiful and touching description of his burial, written by the Rev. Charles Wolfe, a graduate of the University of Dublin.

THE BURIAL OF SIR JOHN MOORE

"Not a drum was heard, not a funeral note,
As his corse to the rampart we hurried.
Not a soldier discharged his farewell shot,
O'er the grave where our hero we buried.

We buried him darkly, at dead of night,
The sods with our bayonets turning;
By the struggling moonbeam's misty light,
And the lantern dimly burning.

No useless coffin enclosed his breast,
Not in sheet or in shroud we wound him;
But he lay like a warrior taking his rest,
With his martial cloak around him.

Few and short were the prayers we said,

And we spoke not a word of sorrow;

But we steadfastly gazed on the face that was dead,

And we bitterly thought of the morrow.

We thought, as we hollowed his narrow bed,

And smoothed down his lonely pillow,

That the foe, and the stranger would tread o'er his head,
And we far away on the billow!

Lightly they'll talk of the spirit that's gone,
And o'er his cold ashes upbraid him,—
But little he'll reck, if they let him sleep on
In the grave where a Briton has laid him.

But half of our heavy task was done,
When the clock struck the hour for retiring;
And we heard the distant and random gun
Of the enemy suddenly firing.

Slowly and sadly we laid him down,
From the field of his fame fresh and gory,

We carved not a line and we raised not a stone-
But we left him alone with his glory!

During the retreat to Corunna, his country sustained a severe loss in the death of Major General Anstruther. No man had more honorably distintinguished himself by zeal, gallantry and talent. He died of inflammation of the lungs, brought on by exposure to the extreme inclemency of the weather. His devotion to the service induced him to neglect the precautions and remedies his situation required; and he continued to perform his duty till approaching dissolution rendered farther exertion impossible. When no longer able to

mount his horse, he was placed in a carriage and conveyed to Corunna. There he expired amid the universal regret of his fellow soldiers; and his remains were deposited in a grave on the ramparts, near that of his commander.

On the 22d April, 1809, Sir Arthur Wellesley returned to Lisbon, and was invested with the supreme command in Portugal. From the period of that event, a new era commenced in the war. His appointment gave unity of action and purpose to the British and Portuguese forces, and at once put a stop to those unfortunate jealousies and distractions, which had already occurred but too frequently between the leaders of the allied armies. The. French were gradually adding to their conquests, nothing but the prompt and decisive measures which Wellesley now commenced taking, could have turned the unpromising aspect of affairs. His first step was directed against Soult, in order,

if possible, to drive him at once out of Portugal, before he could effect a union with Victor, upon whom, now at the head of thirty thousand men, he meditated a subsequent attack. Quitting Lisbon towards the end of April, Sir Arthur arrived at Coimbra, on the 5th of May, and a few days after set out for Oporto. In the meanwhile, the object of these movements could not be supposed to escape the penetration of Soult. He saw the danger of being speedily enclosed in the north of Portugal, and determined to extricate himself from the increasing perils of his position, by evacuating the country. Measures were accordingly adopted for this purpose. Preparations were instantly set on foot for removing the sick and the baggage; and having destroyed the pontoon-bridge across the Douro, and given orders that all the boats should be brought to the right bank of the river, he imagined himself secure from immediate attack. He imagined too that Sir Arthur Wellesley would avail himself of his maritime resources, and embarking his troops, endeavor to effect a landing near the mouth of the Douro. This would have allowed time for the leisurely retreat of the army; and orders were despatched to Loison requiring him to maintain his ground at Mezamfrio and Peza da Ragoa, in order to prevent the passage of the river being effected at either of these points. Had the calculations of Soult been realized, with regard to his enemy's intentions, no obstruction