had been heard that morning, near Ronco, and as the Austrians held no position with artillery there, the firing must needs be French.

"

This very bare announcement was, of course, a great "come down for all the circumstantial detail with which we had been amusing ourselves and each other, but yet it nourished hope, and the hope that was nearest to all our hearts, too! The streets were soon filled; officers and soldiers hastily dressed, and with many a fault of costume, were all commingled, exchang ing opinions, resolving doubts, and even bandying congratulations. The starved and hungry faces were lighted up with an expression of savage glee. It was like the last flickering gleam of passion in men, whose whole vitality was the energy of fever! The heavy debt they owed their enemy was at last to be paid, and all the insulting injury of a besieged and famine-stricken garrison to be avenged. A surging movement in the crowd told that some event had occurred; it was Massena and his staff, who were proceeding to a watchtower in the bastion, from whence a wide range of country could be seen. This was reassuring. The General himself entertained the story, and here was proof that there was something in it." All the population now made for the walls; every spot from which the view towards Ronco could be obtained was speedily crowded, every window filled, and all the housetops crammed. A dark mass of inky cloud covered the tops of the Apennines, and even descended to some distance down the sides. With what shapes and forms of military splendour did our imaginations people the space behind that sombre curtain! What columns of stern warriors, what prancing squadrons, what earth-shaking masses of heavy artillery! How longingly each eye grew weary watching-waiting for the veil to be rent, and the glancing steel to be seen glistening bright in the sun rays!

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As if to torture our anxieties, the lowering mass grew darker and heavier, and rolling lazily adown the mountain, it filled up the valley, wrapping earth and sky in one murky mantle.

"There, did you hear that?" cried one, "that was artillery."

A pause followed, each ear was bent to listen, and not a word was uttered, for full a minute or more;

the immense host, as if swayed by the one impulse, strained to catch the sounds, when suddenly, from the direction of the mountain top, there came a rattling, crashing noise, followed by the dull, deep booming that every soldier's heart responds to. What a cheer then burst forth! never did I hear-never may I hear such a cry as that was it was like the wild yell of a shipwrecked crew, as some distant sail hove in sight; and yet, through its cadence, there rang the mad lust for vengeance! Yes, in all the agonies of sinking strength, with fever in their hearts, and the death sweat on their cheeks, their cry was Blood!

The

puny shout, for such it seemed now, was drowned in the deafening crash that now was heard; peal after peal shook the air, the same rattling, peppering noise of musketry continuing through all.

That the French were in strong force, as well as the enemy, there could now be no doubt. Nothing but a serious affair and a stubborn resistance could warrant such a fire. It had every semblance of an attack with all arms. The roar of the heavy guns made the air vibrate, and the clatter of small arms was incessant. How each of us filled up the picture from the impulses of his own fancy! Some said that the French were still behind the mountain, and storming the heights of the Borghetto; others thought that they had gained the summit, but not "en force," and were only contesting their position there; and a few more sanguine, of whom I was one myself, imagined that they were driving the Austrians down the Apennines, cleaving their ranks as they went, with their artillery.

Each new crash, every momentary change of direction of the sounds, favoured this opinion or that, and the excitement of partisanship rose to an immense height. What added indescribably to the interest of the scene, was a group of Austrian officers on horseback, who, in their eagerness to obtain tidings, had ridden beyond their lines, and were now standing almost within musket range of us. We could

see that their telescopes were turned to the eventful spot, and we gloried to think of the effect the scene must be producing on them.

"They've seen enough!" cried one of our fellows, laughing, while he pointed to the horsemen, who suddenly

wheeling about, galloped back to their camp at full speed.

"You'll have the drums beat to arms now; there's little time to lose. Our cuirassiers will soon be upon them," cried another, in ecstacy.

"No, but the rain will, and upon us too," said Giorgio, who had now come up; "don't you see that its not a battle yonder, it's a borasco.' There it comes. "And as if the outstretched finger of the dwarf had been the wand of a magician, the great cloud was suddenly torn open with a crash, and the rain descended like a deluge, swept along by a hurricane wind, and came in vast sheets of water, while high over our heads, and moving onward towards the sea, growled the distant thunder. The great mountain was now visible from base to summit, but not a soldier, not a gun to be seen! Swollen and yellow, the gushing torrents leaped madly from crag to crag, and crashing trees, and falling rocks, added their wild sounds to the tumult.

There we stood, mute and sorrow. struck, regardless of the seething rain, unconscious of anything save our disappointment. The hope we built upon had left us, and the dreary scene of storm around seemed but a type of our own future! And yet we could not turn away, but with eyes strained and aching, gazed at the spot from where our succour should have come.

I looked up at the watch-tower, and there was Massena still, his arms folded on a battlement; he seemed to be deep in thought. At last he arose, and drawing his cloak across his face, descended the winding-stair outside the tower. His step was slow, and more than once he halted, as if to think When he reached the walls, he walked rapidly on, his suite following him.

"Ah, Mons. Tiernay," said he, as he passed me, "you know what an Apennine storm is now; but it will cool the air, and give us delicious weather ;" and so he passed on with an easy smile.

THE disappointment we had suffered was not the only circumstance adverse to our expedition. The rain had now swollen the smallest rivulets to the size of torrents; in many places the paths would be torn away and obliterated, and everywhere the difficulty of a night march enormously increased. Giorgio, however, who was, perhaps, afraid of forfeiting his reward, assured the General that these mountain streams subside even more rapidly than they rise; that such was the dryness of the soil, no trace of rain would be seen by sunset, and that we should have a calm, starry night; the very thing we wanted for our enterprise.

We did not need persuasion to believe all he said, the opinion chimed in with our own wishes, and better still, was verified to the very letter by a glorious afternoon. Landward, the spectacle was perfectly enchanting; the varied foliage of the Apennines, refreshed by the rain, glittered and shone in the sun's rays, while in the bay, the fleet, with sails hung out to dry, presented a grand and an imposing sight. Better than all, Monte Faccio now appeared quite near us; we could,

even with the naked eye, perceive all the defences, and were able to detect a party of soldiers at work outside the walls, clearing, as it seemed, some water-course that had been impeded by the storm. Unimportant as the labour was, we watched it anxiously, for we thought that perhaps before another sunset many a brave fellow's blood might dye that earth. During the whole of that day, from some cause or other, not a shot had been fired either from the land-batteries or the fleet, and as though a truce had been agreed to, we sat watching each other's movements peacefully and calmly.

"The Austrians would seem to have been as much deceived as ourselves, sir," said an old artillery sergeant to me, as I strolled along the walls at nightfall. "The picquets last night were close to the glacis, but see now they have fallen back a gun-shot or

more."

"But they had time enough since to have resumed their old position," said I, half doubting the accuracy of the surmise.

"Time enough, par bleu; I shoul think so too! but when the white

coats manœuvre, they write to Vienna to ask, What's to be done next?'"

This passing remark, in which, with all its exaggeration, there lay a germ of truth, was the universal judgment of our soldiers on those of the Imperial army; and to the prevalence of the notion may be ascribed much of that fearless indifference with which small divisions of ours attacked whole army corps of the enemy. Buonaparte was the first to point out this slowness, and to turn it to the best advantage.

"If our General ever intended a sortie, this would be the night for it, sir," resumed he; "the noise of those mountain streams would mask the sounds of a march, and even cavalry, if led with caution, might be in upon them before they were aware."

This speech pleased me, not only for the judgment it conveyed, but as an assurance that our expedition was still a secret in the garrison.

On questioning the sergeant further, I was struck to find that he had abandoned utterly all hope of ever seeing France again; such he told me was the universal feeling of the soldiery. "We know well, sir, that Massena is not the man to capitulate, and we cannot expect to be relieved." And yet with this stern, comfortless conviction on their minds with hunger, and famine, and pestilence on every side-they never uttered one word of complaint, not even a murmur of remonstrance. What would Moreau's fellows say of us? What would the Army of the Meuse think? These were the ever present arguments against surrender; and the judgment of their comrades was far more terrible to them than the grapeshot of the enemy.

"But do you not think when Buonaparte crosses the Alps he will hasten to our relief?"

"Not he, Sir! I know him well. I was in the same troop with him, a bombardier at the same gun. Buonaparte will never go after small game where there's a nobler prey before him. If he does cross the Alps he'll be for a great battle under Milan; or, mayhap, march on Venice. He's not thinking of our starved battalions here; he's planning some great campaign, depend on it. He never faced the Alps to succour Genoa."

How true was this appreciation of the great General's ambition, I need scarcely repeat; but so it was at the

time; many were able to guess the bold aspirings of one who, to the nation, seemed merely one among the numerous candidates for fame and honours.

It was about an hour after my conversation with the sergeant, that an orderly came to summon me to Colonel de Barre's quarters; and with all my haste to obey, I only arrived as the column was formed. The plan of attack was simple enough. Three Voltigeur companies were to attempt the assault of the Monte Faccio, under De Barre; while to engage attention, and draw off the enemy's force, a strong body of infantry and cavalry was to debouch on the Chiavari road, as though to force a passage in that direction. In all that regarded secrecy and despatch our expedition was perfect; and as we moved silently through the streets, the sleeping citizens never knew of our march. Arrived at the gate, the column halted, to give us time to pass along the walls and descend the glen, an operation which, it was estimated, would take forty-five minutes; at the expiration of this they were to issue forth to the feint attack.

At a quick step we now pressed forward towards the angle of the bastion, whence many a path led down the cliff in all directions. Half-a-dozen of our men, well acquainted with the spot, volunteered as guides, and the muskets being slung on the back, the word was given to "move on," the rallying-place being the plateau of the orange-trees I have already mentioned.

"Steep enough this," said De Barre to me, as holding on by briars and brambles, we slowly descended the gorge; "but few of us will ever climb it again."

"You think so?" asked I, in some surprise.

"Of course, I know it;"said he. "Vallence, who commands the battalions below, always condemned the scheme; rely on it, he's not the man to make himself out a false prophet. I dont pretend to tell you that in our days of monarchy there were neither jealousies nor party grudges, and that men were above all small and ungenerous rivalry; but, assuredly, we had less of them than now. If the field of competition is more open to every one, so are the arts by which success is won; a pre-eminence in a republic means always the ruin of a rival. If we fail, as fail we must, he'll be a General."

"But why must we fail?" "For every reason; we are not in force; we know nothing of what we are about to attack; and, if repulsed, have no retreat behind us."

"Then why- ?" I stopped, for already I saw the impropriety of my question.

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Why did I advise the attack?" said he mildly, taking up my halfuttered question. "Simply because death outside these walls is quicker and more glorious than within them. There's scarcely a man who follows us has not the same sentiment in his heart. The terrible scenes of the last five weeks have driven our fellows to all but mutiny. Nothing, indeed, maintained discipline but a kind of tigerish thirst for vengeance-a hope that the day of reckoning would come round, and one fearful lesson teach these same whitecoats how dangerous it is to drive a brave enemy to despair."

De Barre continued to talk in this strain as we descended, every remark he made being uttered with all the coolness of one who talked of a matter indifferent to him. At length the way became too steep for much converse, and slipping, and scrambling, we now only interchanged a chance word as we went. Although two hundred and fifty men were around and about us, not a voice was heard; and, except the occasional breaking of a branch, or the occasional fall of some heavy stone into the valley, not a sound was heard. At length a long, shrill whistle announced that the first man had reached the bottom, which, to judge from the faintness of the sound, ap. peared yet a considerable distance off. The excessive darkness increased the difficulty of the way, and De Barre continued to repeat, that we had certainly been misinformed, and that even in daylight the descent would take an hour."

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It was full half an hour after this when we came to a small rivulet, the little boundary line between the two steep cliffs. Here our men were all assembled, refreshing themselves with the water, still muddy from recent rain, and endeavouring to arrange equipments and arms, damaged and displaced by many a fall.

"We've taken an hour and twentyeight minutes," said De Barre, as he placed a fire-fly on the glass of his watch to see the hour. "Now, men,

let us make up for lost time. En

avant!"

"En avant!" was quickly passed from mouth to mouth, and never was a word more spirit-stirring to Frenchmen! With all the alacrity of men fresh and "eager for the fray," they began the ascent, and, such was the emulous ardour to be first, that it assumed all the features of a race.

A close pine wood greatly aided us now, and, in less time than we could believe it possible, we reached the plateau appointed for our rendezvous. This being the last spot of meeting, before our attack on the fort, the final dispositions were here settled on, and the orders for the assault arranged. With day-light, the view from this terrace, for such it was in reality, would have been magnificent, for even now, in the darkness, we could track out the great thoroughfares of the city, follow the windings of the bay and harbour, and, by the lights on board, detect the fleet as it lay at anchor. To the left, and for many a mile, as it seemed, were seen twinkling the bivouac fires of the Austrian army; while, directly above our heads, glittering like a red star, shone the solitary gleam that marked out the "Monte Faccio."

I was standing silently at De Barre's side, looking on this sombre scene, so full of terrible interest, when he clutched my arm violently, and whispered"Look yonder; see, the attack has begun."

The fire of the artillery had flashed as he spoke, and now, with his very words, the deafening roar of the guns was heard from below.

I told you he'd not wait for us, Tiernay. I told you how it would happen!" cried he; then suddenly recovering his habitual composure of voice and manner, he said, "Now for our part, men, forwards."

And away went the brave fellows, tearing up the steep mountain side, like an assault party at a breach. Though hidden from our view by the darkness and the dense wood, we could hear the incessant din of large and small arms; the roll of the drums summoning men to their quarters, and what we thought were the cheers of charging squadrons.

Such was the mad feeling of excitement these sounds produced, that I cannot guess what time elapsed before we found ourselves on the crest of the mountain, and not above three hundred

paces from the outworks of the fort. The trees had been cut away on either side, so as to offer a species of "glacis," and this must be crossed under the fire of the batteries, before an attack could be commenced. Fortunately for us, however, the garrison was too confident of its security, to dread a coup de main from the side of the town, and had placed all their guns along the bastion, towards Borghetto, and this De Barre immediately detected. A certain "alert" on the walls, however, and a quick movement of lights, here and there, showed that they had become aware of the sortie from the town, and gradually we could see figure after figure ascending the walls, as if to peer down into the valley beneath.

"You see what Vallance has done for us," said De Barre, bitterly; "but for him we should have taken these fellows, en flagrant delit, and carried their walls before they could turn out a captain's guard.”

As he spoke, a heavy, crashing sound was heard, and a wild cheer. Already our pioneers had gained the gate, and were battering away at it; another party had reached the walls, and thrown up their rope ladders, and the attack was opened! In fact, Giorgio had led one division by a path somewhat shorter than ours, and they had begun the assault before we issued from the pine wood.

We now came up at a run, but under a smart fire from the walls, already fast crowding with men. Defiling close beneath the wall, we gained the gate, just as it had fallen beneath the assaults of our men; a steep covered way led up from it, and along this our fellows rushed madly, but suddenly, from the gloom a red glare flashed out, and a terrible discharge of grape swept all before it. "Lie down!" was now shouted from front to rear, but even before the order could be obeyed, another and more fatal volley followed.

Twice we attempted to storm the ascent; but, wearied by the labour of the mountain pass-worn out by fatigue-and, worse still, weak from actual starvation, bur men faltered! It was not fear, nor was there anything

akin to it; for even as they fell under the thick fire, their shrill cheers breathed stern defiance. They were utterly exhausted, and failing strength could do no more! De Barre took the lead, sword in hand, and with one of those wild appeals, that soldiers never hear in vain, addressed them; but the next moment his shattered corpse was car ried to the rere. The scaling party, alike repulsed, had now defiled to our support; but the death-dealing artillery swept through us without ceasing. Never was there a spectacle so terrible, as to see men, animated by courageous devotion, burning with glorious zeal, and yet powerless from very debility-actually dropping from the weakness of famine! The staggering step-the faint shout-the powerless charge-all showing the ravages of pestilence and want!

Some sentiment of compassion must have engaged our enemies' sympathy, for twice they relaxed their fire, and only resumed it as we returned to the attack. One fearful discharge of grape, at pistol range, now seemed to have closed the struggle; and as the smoke cleared away, the earth was seen crowded with dead and dying. The broken ranks no longer showed discipline-men gathered in groups around their wounded comrades, and, to all seeming, indifferent to the death that menaced them. Scarcely an officer survived, and, among the dead beside me, I recognised Giorgio, who still knelt in the attitude in which he had received his death wound.

I was like one in some terrible dream, powerless and terror-stricken, as I stood thus amid the slaughtered and the wounded.

"You are my prisoner," said a gruff. looking old Croat grenadier, as he snatched my sword from my hand, by a smart blow on the wrist, and I yielded without a word.

"Is it over?" said I; "is it over?" "Yes, parbleu, I think it is," said a comrade, whose cheek was hanging down from a bayonet wound. "There are not twenty of us remaining, and they will do very little for the service of the Great Republic.""

VOL. XXXVII.-NO. CCXXII.

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