Age-Twenty-five. What is love? the fevered hand, The blushes beautiful and young, Slim girlhood answers, "yes." He, the youth who wooed of old, Her who is now forgot by all, What time the cricket's chirm succeeds The grasshopper's, wends towards his home, He knows the window and the light That shines from it he knows: Each thing within the room he knows As they hurry past like bees; Love! whom Anacreon's nymphs scarce pleased, Who listened to Arcadian lutes, And thought them wearisome, Unto the shuttles lend his ear! And she is left alone. The rain-drops from the eaves are blown The wind lifts up her dripping scarf, And flings it o'er her head. Her lips are sharp as if a scorn Of our humanity had shrank They never weep, for she can think What is sin and what is shame? Say that she hath them both. But why measure blood in a carved wine-cup, Whose is the sin and whose the shame That the ignorant say is her's? The spider's whose web first caught her? or The lawyer's or the priest's? Can the outcast retrace her steps? Would any mourn with her, although She washed the earth with tears XIV. Age-Twenty-seven. "Out of my house!" a screeching tongue A woman staggering as she flies, She is a spot upon the sun, A foul thing on the street, A blight on the fields, a festering sore Without a friend, a child, a home,- Without a wish save what is felt By the worm, the wish to live. Stand up in the face of heaven, and ask The smoke of the chimneys rises straight, Until the mother from her window calls With honesty and admiration rife Among her followers: Once-a-time her necklace was of gold, Or triple gilt at least, When a gleam of her silken sock had drawn Sighs from an epaulette. Alas! She leans herself against a wall, And longs for drink to slake her thirst And memory at once. A band of girls were at their play At each rhyme as they sang. A white-washed chamber wide and long, In the first a grey-haired woman, tho' The next, but why detail the curse Fling from their hearthstones forth.- As blindly shall succeed, and place Their feet where she hath trod, and in And every father shakes his head, And keeps his daughter still a child, And country queens at harvest-home We wish we could satisfy the curiosity of the reader concerning the authorship of this remarkable poem-a curiosity which we take for granted its perusal must excite. But we have not at present the means of saying more than that it appeared some six or seven years ago in the Monthly Repository, a magazine edited by Mr. Leigh Hunt, whose own genius well qualified him to appreciate its merits. Mr. Scott, we believe, is connected with the fine arts; but, however he may excel in pursuits of that nature, (and with such faculties we cannot doubt his excellence,) poetry seems to be his true pro vince. THE FORLORN-HOPE MAN. Ar an early age I entered the first battalion of the 95th regiment, now the Rifle Brigade, and served in it from the retreat of Corunna to the battle of Waterloo. As I had volunteered on the Forlorn-Hope at Ciudad Rodrigo, and escaped without a scratch, I was determined to have a touch at Badajos, so volunteered for the taking of that town also. You may wish to know what a Forlorn-Hope is-I will tell you. It is the vanguard, generally few in number, or, as the French more truly express it, the "enfans perdus" of an army determined to take a town by storm. It is constituted in the following manner. The captains of companies, upon private parade, call their companies to attention; and telling them that a certain place is to be stormed, inquire if any men will volunteer on the ForlornHope. Such as volunteer come to the front, and he then takes down their names; but if none volunteer, it is, I believe, customary to hit at random on a certain number of men, who are in that case ordered on the duty. I never, however, witnessed any such case of compulsion, and I must say our regiment was never backward in volunteering on such occasions. The Forlorn-Hope party having been thus formed, always starts before the division which is to attack the town, and being the first to receive the enemy's fire, is of course exposed to the greatest danger. I am now about to give an account of one of the bloodiest contests a British soldier had ever to contend with; compared to which the battle of Waterloo itself appeared to me, during the action, like a field-day in Hyde-park. At about seven o'clock in the evening of the 6th of April, 1812, the storm * This childish dance and rhyme may be met with, any ing party fell in, each man having been previously summer evening, in the suburbs of Edinburgh. served with a double ration of rum. I gave my * knapsack to Robert Fairfoot, then acting corporal, | the French challenged. A shot was immediately now quartermaster in the Rifles, with my father's address, in case of being killed; and joined the stormers of the light division, which was composed of the 43d and 52d regiments, and our 2d and 3d battalions of Rifles. We then fell in for the attack, our regiment, as usual, taking the front. I happened to be on the right of the front section, when Major O'Hare, who commanded the four companies to which I belonged, came up in company with Captain Jones of the 52d regiment, both in command of the storming party. I believe a pair of uglier men nature never made; but a brace of better soldiers never stood before the muzzle of a Frenchman's gun. "Well, O'Hare," said Captain Jones, "what do you think of to-night's work?" "Don't know," replied poor Peta (for so we familiarly called Major O'Hare) " I think it will be my last, for, I know not how it is, I cannot keep my spirits up." "Tut, tut, man!" answered Captain Jones, "take a drop of the cratur," and at the same time handed him his calabash. A coutryman of my own, Sergeant Flemming, then coming up, told Major O'Hare that a ladder-party was wanted, and asked what he was to do? "Take the right file," said the major," of each section." No sooner said than done, for I and my rear-rank man were instantly tapped on the shoulder for the ladder party. I now gave up all hopes of ever returning. At Rodrigo we had fatigue parties for the ladders, but now it was not the case; besides which, the ladders were here much longer than at Rodrigo. I must just mention that whatever may have been my own forebodings on the occasion, the apprehensions of my poor old captain, Major O'Hare, and those also of Captain Jones, were soon fatally realized; for, in less than twenty minutes after the above conversation, both fell, riddled with bullet-holes. I now put my shoulder to the ladder, and, assisted by my comrades, moved onwards. There were six of us supporting the ladder to which I belonged, and I contrived to carry my grass-bag before me. We had not proceeded far when we heard a jabbering noise as of persons talking on our right, upon which we halted, and, supposing they might be enemies, I disengaged myself from the ladder, and, cocking my rifle, prepared for action. One of our party, how ever, cried "Take care! 'tis the stormers of the 4th division coming to join us." It proved to be the case. There was a small ravine through which ran a rivulet of water to our right, and their crossing it caused the noise which startled us. This panic over, we continued advancing, the rifles, as before, keeping in front. We had to pass close to a fort on our left, near the town. As we neared it the sentry of None of the names mentioned in these sketches are fictitious. Many of the parties are still living, and will not fail to recollect the incidents referred to. A grass-bag is used to throw down into the trenches for the men to jump on, so as to prevent them hurting themselves. They are from five to six feet long, and two feet in circumference, and are generally filled with hay or recent grass, fired from the fort, and another from the walls of the * The glacis means a gentle slope of ground extending from the parapet of the outer ditch going round a fortified town. It leads into the country, and terminates at a distance of about sixty yards. A chevaux-de-frise is an obstacle used in fortification, consisting of an horizontal beam of timber with pointed stakes radiating from its centre. It is used to defend a pass, to form an impediment to cavalry. or to stop a breach. The French, ever ingenious, instead of wooden stakes, at Badajos, had recourse to radii of sword. were entire, for at such moments a man, I believe, feels not his wounds. At this time, losing the phrensy of courage, which I had before possessed, I felt on a sudden all the weakness and cowardice, as it were, of any woman, and endeavoured to protect myself by squeezing myself in among the dead bodies that surrounded me. As I lay in this condition, the fire still continued blazing over me. I now for the first time for many years put up a prayer. The fire presently slackened from the breach, and I heard a cheering which I knew to proceed from within the town, and shortly afterwards a cry of "Blood and Ouns! Where's the light division? The town's our own! Hurrah!" I then attempted to rise, but was so feeble that I could scarcely stir, indeed could not stand! I now found that I had been wounded, I know not when, but a ball had passed through the lower part of my right leg. Two others had passed through my cap, which I should have lost had it not been tied down under my throat with pieces of twine, as we had not then scales to our caps. At this moment, seeing two or three men moving towards me, and not knowing who they might be, I laid down, but as they approached nearer, I knew by their voices that they were some of own men. Again I sat up. One of them happened to be a man of my own company, named O'Brien; the other, if I recollect right, belonged to the 3d battalion. "What! is that you, Ned?" exclaimed O'Brien, and, seeing the helplessness of my situation, they assisted in raising me up. The chevaux de frise, however, still remained, so that we could not enter the breach until more men arrived and forced it down. I think it was the 3d division which was then within the town, for they got in on our right by the castle, where there was no breach. When we reached the top of the breach where we were, we found another trench with a plank of wood going across leading into the town. I moved with difficulty. I was so feeble that I was still obliged to lean on the arm of O'Brien, who lent me for additional support his rifle, which, placing the butt-end under my arm, I used as a crutch. Not until then I felt drops of blood trickling down my face, and found that one of the balls in passing through my cap had torn the upper part of my head. In this crippled state, supported in the manner just described, I and my comrades entered the town, towards the centre of which we heard a running fire with occasional cheering. As we turned the corner of a street, we observed two men advancing towards us, and thinking they might be some of the enemy, I clapped the rifle which I had been using as a crutch to my shoulder, at the same time asking O'Brien if it were loaded? He answered in the affirmative. One of them entered a house on the opposite side of the street, and the other, who, by the light in a window opposite to us, we perceived to be dressed in a blue coat with green wings on his shoulders, seemed to be making a rush towards us. Just as he came up O'Brien collared him, and twisting his firelock from him, struck him with his shut fist a blow on the side of the head. I then said, "O'Brien, let me have the pleasure of shooting this rascal, for he may be the man who has left me in the state I am now in!" I then presented my rifle close to his breast, with the full intention of shooting him through the body, but in an instant, just as my finger was about to snap the trigger, he dropped upon his knees and implored mercy. He lifted up his hands clasped together in the most earnest manner; I paused-hesitated,-and dropping the piece on halfcock, said, " O'Brien, I cannot shoot the scoundrel, 'tis cowardly, he is unprotected;" and then taking him by the hand, I told him in Spanish to get up! He did so, and immediately threw his arms round my neck, and, trembling very violently, bestowed several kisses on my cheek. I desired him to follow me, and leaning my weight on his shoulder, while O'Brien carried the musket he had wrested from him, and I used O'Brien's rifle once more as a crutch; we proceeded to the house opposite, in one of the windows of which was the light above-mentioned. We knocked against the door-no answer; we repeated the summons-still no notice taken of it; we then put the muzzle of a rifle to the keyhole, and discharging its contents through it, the door was burst open. We now entered the house, in which we found a young Spanish woman, crying bitterly and praying for mercy. We told her we would not hurt her. She said that she was the wife of a Frenchman not there to protect her. I asked her if she had any money? She answered, in Spanish, that there was nothing but her poor self in the house! O'Brien then inquired if she could give us some spirits?-upon which she produced a bottle, and gave me a cake of chocolate, which I eat with much relish. Here we were not content to remain, because there was no appearance of money; the house itself looked miserably poor. I may remark that, however some may boast of courage, the generality of men who enter on a case of Forlorn-Hope like the present, do so in the hope of plunder. It was, I confess, my own case, for, although very ill prepared, I was determined to have some "blunt," at all events; so I said, "We will leave this place: there's nothing here;" upon which, supported by the Frenchman and O'Brien, I returned into the street, and proceeded towards the market-place. It was a dark, though still night. The confusion and uproar in the town cannot be conceived. Arrived in the market-place, we found a number of Spanish prisoners rushing out of the gaol, which had been broken open by some men of the 3d division. They appeared like a set of savages suddenly set free; some had chains rattling about their limbs, others none; and in the midst of the crowd were numbers of our own men, chiefly of the 5th and 88th regiments, holding lighted candles in their hands. I said to O'Brien, "I am getting very tired; let us go somewhere where we can find a place to rest." We then turned down an opposite street, and came to a house which we perceived to be occupied, and on entering it found a number of men there belonging to the 88th regiment; they were in the act of plundering. One of them seeing blood on my face took up a full bottle, and breaking it off by a blow with a bayonet immediately below the neck, desired me to drink. I did so. There was a good fire blazing on the hearth, and I advanced towards the fire-place. It is the custom, I may mention, for soldiers who enter a house under such circumstances, to make a fire of whatever they can lay hold of. I have seen chairs, tables, and the most finished mahogany furniture broken up for the purpose; nay, on these occasions so reckless are men of the value of property, that I have seen the face of the finest mirror smashed into pieces merely to obtain a bit of looking-glass to shave at. I had not long been seated at the fire when I heard the screams of some one in distress coming from the adjoining room, and on entering it I found the old man of the house on his knees imploring mercy, and one of the British in the act of levelling his musket at him. I inquired what was the matter, and was informed that he would not give the men his money; they declared he had some he swore he had none; upon which I begged that they would not shoot him, but allow me to speak to him, as I thought I could speak better Spanish than the rest. It was agreed. I then said to him, " Diga me Vmd [usted] donde esta su dinero?"-Tell me where is your money? "Da Vmd a mis camarados."-Give it my comrades! He then rose, kissed my hand, and going to a huge clay wine-vessel, which rested upon cross sticks, and which was round, or rather pot-bellied in the middle, and tapered towards a point at each end, he drew out from underneath a bag of dollars, which he laid with trembling hands upon the counter. There were six of us present; four of the 88th, and two rifles, viz., I and my comrade O'Brien. It was immediately agreed to divide the dollars, without the trouble of counting them, into six heaps, and allot one to each. Accordingly one of the 88th stood with his back towards the counter; and while another man, pointing to one of the heaps, cried, "Who shall have this?" he who had his face turned from the money answered, such or such a one, belonging to the 88th, or to the rifles. Thirty-six Spanish dollars fell to my share. I now returned to the fire-place and requested the Frenchman to lend me his jacket, as my own was thoroughly wet through. Grateful for my having spared his life, he did so in a moment, indeed he said over and over again that he would not leave me; that he would follow me through the world. I was sitting by the fire with this Frenchman's jacket on, when the street door of the house was forced open, and a number of Portuguese soldiers entered. One of them, supposing me to be a Frenchman by my jacket, snapped his musket at me; I immediately, as well as my wounded leg allowed me, rushed at him, and some of the 88th also interfered. A scuffle took place, which ended in one of these Portuguese soldiers being run through the body with a bayonet, and the rest of the party, with the dead body, were ejected into the street. I had not long returned to my seat when some of the men, in ransacking the house, discovered the two daughters of the old man, who had concealed themselves up stairs. They were both young-they could oppose only a feeble resistance to any violence. Hitherto their mother had escaped; but she too was now dragged from her hiding-place, and their concealment so long was cruelly avenged. Without dwelling on the frightful details, it may be sufficient to add that our men, more infuriated than before, seized on the old man and insisted on a fresh supply of money. His protestations that he had given them all he possessed were vain, and while his wretched family-his wife and two daughters— were lying senseless on the ground, he was-shall I go on?-shot through the body! It is to be lamented that the memory of an old soldier should be disturbed by such painful recollections! But it is to be considered, that the men who besiege a town in the face of such dangers are generally desperate characters; and when once they get footing within its walls, flushed by victoryhurried on by desire of plunder, and heated with excess of drink-they stop at nothing. They are mad, they know not what they do! I do not say this in justification-I only state what I have observed human nature on these occasions to be. I now determined to leave this scene of horrors, and, accompanied by the Frenchman, went in search of another house. We observed one open on the other side of the way, and he having helped me across the street, for my leg much disabled me, we entered it. Here we found a number of our men of the third division, who were drinking chocolate, made, not with water, but with wine. They were more sober and peaceable than those we had just left; but here also, indeed in every house in Badajos that night, the most fearful outrages were committed. For my own part, I felt tired and anxious to get some sleep; I therefore laid down, but fagged as I was, could obtain little rest. The next morning, being determined to rejoin my regiment, I left the house, accompanied by the Frenchman, who rendered me every assistance in his power. It appeared to me that the town was still in a state of great confusion and uproar. In one of the streets I saw the Duke of Wellington giving directions about the erection of gallowses for the punishment of men guilty of plunder, or of such atrocities as had been enacted over-night. Poh! he was surrounded by a number of British soldiers, who were drunk, and who, holding up bottles with the necks knocked off, containing wine and spirits, cried out to him, Nosey! old boy!, will you drink? The town's our own!* *This exclamation, "The town's our own!" deserves attention, inasmuch as it explains the notion which all soldiers entertain on entering a town they have besieged. Not actuated or guided by any reflecting principle, they imagine that every description of property they can seize is truly their own, to carry away or destroy. Even the persons of women-no matter whether old or young-they conceive themselves licensed to outrage! Hence, every house reverberates with shrieks of horror-every hearth reeks with blood. Such, even in the hour of victory, are the characteristic horrors of "glorious war." |