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King in fight urged him to the hottest of the battle, where he was most likely to find him. Gustavus himself had cherished the fiery hope to see this renowned antagonist face to face, but the soldierlike wish remained unfulfilled, and death first brought the now reconciled heroes together. Two musket balls pierced Pappenheim's scarred breast, and his people bore him, amidst his own resistance, from the slaughter.

While thus being borne to the rear the murmur reached him that he whom he had sought lay dead on the field. His face kindled when the news was confirmed, and the last fire shone in his eyes. "Tell the Duke of Friedland," said he, "that I am mortally wounded, but give up my life with joy when I know that the deadly enemy of my faith has fallen on the same day."

With Pappenheim the fortunes of the Imperialists finally vanished. As soon as he was missed, the cavalry of the left wing, which had already been beaten and which he alone had brought back to the fight, gave up all for lost, and fled in confusion. The same happened on the right, only a few regiments making a stand any longer. The Swedish infantry instantly took advantage of the confusion of their enemy. To fill up the gaps which had been made in the van, both lines joined into one for the final attack. For the third time they stormed over the ditches, and for the third time took the cannon behind. The sun was now setting, while the two armies were thus struggling with each other. The conflict grew fiercer as it came to its end. The last strength on each side did its utmost to redeem the few precious moments remaining of the whole lost day. At last night closed the struggle, which blind fury strove to continue, and only ceased when darkness hid the enemies from each other.

NOTES. The battle of Lützen was an episode of the Thirty Years' War, which began in 1618, and was ended by the peace of Westphalia, in 1648. The war was a fatal result of the policy of Charles V. (1519-1558), who, from his election as Emperor of Germany, in 1519, till his abdication, in 1555, never ceased to stir up division and strife among the various states, that he might the better control all. Philip II., his son (1556-1598), though not Emperor of Germany, pursued the same policy, from bigotry, as his father had carried out for political ends. Under him Western Europe was drenched with the blood of Protestants, and Germany, disturbed by tyrants who sought to emulate him, had a constant

and often a losing struggle to maintain, for the liberties secured to them by the Reformation. At last, under the Emperor Rudolph II. (1576-1612), the Jesuits got things into their hands, and sowed the seeds of religious discord on every hand in South and also in North Germany. In every direction they induced rulers to persecute Protestantism. At last a Protestant Union was formed on the one side, and a Catholic League on the other. War was now inevitable, if the Jesuit conspiracy to crush liberty were to be hindered from success, and it flamed out at last under the Emperor Ferdinand II. (1619-1637), as head of the Papalists, and Frederic V., of the Palatinate, as head of the Protestants. The Duke.-Albert

von Wallenstein, a Bohemian noblemanthe commander of the Imperialist (Roman Catholic) army. He was appointed to this dignity in 1625. He had already been made Duke of Friedland, for his earlier services in the wars, and now offered the Emperor to maintain 50,000 men, at his own cost, if the supreme command over the army, and over the countries that might be conquered, were left in his hand. His immense estates, and the rich gifts of the Emperor, enabled him to do this. His offer was accepted. He was a monster of cruelty, with little military genius. Friedland brigades.-Regiments raised on Wallenstein's possessions in Friedland, which is a district of Northern Bohemia. Pappenheim.-A famous Imperialist general, noted no less for his ferocity than for his wild bravery. The steel was already whetted.-Wallenstein was murdered by some of his officers, on the suspicion of his having conspired to overthrow the Emperor-a suspicion

which appears to have been unfounded, and to have been merely a pretext invented by the monks and Jesuits round the Emperor, who hated Wallenstein as not devoted enough to the Church, but given to liberal thoughts in religion-a soldier in fact, rather than any thing else. The murder took place in 1634. Wallenstein's overgrown power was dreaded as possibly dangerous to the extreme Jesuit party, with whom murder was the habitual policy at that time, as we see in the case of William of Holland, and Henry IV. of France. The Thirty Years' War ended in the confirmation of the rights of Protestantism, the independence of the Netherlands, and the defeat of the Jesuit conspiracy. But Germany was so wasted and ruined that it has not even yet wholly recovered. Wallenstein forthwith, after the battle of Lützen, retreated, leaving his artillery, banners, &c., in the hands of the Swedes; thus owning their victory.

COMBAT OF THE COA.-Sir W. Napier.

For notice of Sir W. Napier, see "Fifth Reader," page 278. A STORMY night ushered in the 24th of July. The troops, drenched with rain, were under arms before daylight, expecting to retire, when a few pistol shots in front, followed by an order for the cavalry reserves and the guns to advance, gave notice of the enemy's approach; and as the morning cleared, twenty-four thousand French infantry, five thousand cavalry, and thirty pieces of artillery were observed marching beyond the Turones. The British line was immediately contracted and brought under the edge of the ravine; but, meanwhile, Ney, who had observed Crawford's false disposition, came down with the swoop of an eagle. Four thousand horsemen and a powerful artillery swept the plain. The allied cavalry gave back, and Loison's division coming up at a charging pace, made towards the centre and left of the position.

While the French were thus pouring down, several illjudged changes were made on the English side, part of the troops were advanced, others drawn back, and the forty-third regiment was placed within an enclosure of solid masonry, at least ten feet high, situated on the left of the road, with but one narrow outlet about half musket shot down the ravine. While thus imprisoned the firing in front re-doubled, the cavalry, the

artillery, and the caçadores successively passed by in retreat, and the sharp clang of the ninety-fifth rifles was heard along the edge of the plain above. A few moments later, and the forty-third would have been surrounded; but that here, as in every other part of this field, the quickness and knowledge of the battalion officers remedied the faults of the General. One minute sufficed to loosen some large stones, a powerful effort burst the enclosure, and the regiment, re-formed in column of companies, was the next instant up with the riflemen; there was no room to array the line, no time for anything but battle; every captain carried off his company as an independent body, and joining as he could with the ninety-fifth or fiftysecond, the whole presented a mass of skirmishers, acting in small parties, and under no regular command; yet each confident in the courage and discipline of those on his right and left, and all regulating their movements by a common discretion, and keeping together with surprising vigour.

It is unnecessary to describe the first burst of French soldiery. It is well known with what gallantry the officers lead, with what vehemence the troops follow, and with what a storm of fire they waste a field of battle. At this moment, with the advantage of ground and numbers, they were breaking over the edge of the ravine, their guns ranged along the summit, played hotly with grape, and their hussars, galloping over the glacis of Almeida, poured down the road, sabring everything in their way. Ney, desirous that Montbrun should follow this movement with the whole of the French cavalry, and so cut off the troops from the bridge, sent five officers in succession to urge him on, and so mixed were friends and enemies at the moment, that only a few guns of the fortress durst open, and no courage could have availed against such overwhelming numbers. But Montbrun enjoyed an independent command, and, as the attack was made without Massena's knowledge, he would not stir. Then the British regiments, with singular intelligence and discipline, extricated themselves from their perilous situation. For falling back slowly, and yet stopping and fighting whenever opportunity offered, they made their way through a rugged country, tangled with vineyards, in despite of their enemies, who were so fierce and eager, that even the horsemen rode in amongst the enclosures, striking at the soldiers as they mounted walls or scrambled over the rocks.

The French skirmishers, swarming on the right bank, opened a biting fire, which was returned as bitterly; the artillery on

both sides played across the ravine, and the smoke, rising slowly, resolved itself into an immense arch, spanning the whole chasm, and sparkling with the whirling fuzes of the flying shells. The enemy gathered fast and thickly; his columns were discovered forming behind the high rocks, and a dragoon was sent to try the depth of the stream above, but two shots from the fifty-second killed horse and man, and the carcases, floating between the hostile bands, showed that the river was impassable. The monotonous tones of a French drum were then heard, and in another instant, the head of a noble column was at the long narrow bridge. A drummer and an officer in a splendid uniform leaped forward together, and the whole rushed on with loud cries. The depth of the ravine at first deceived the soldiers' aim, and two-thirds of the passage was won ere an English shot had brought down an enemy; yet a few paces onwards the line of death was traced, and the whole of the leading French section fell as one man! Still the gallant column pressed forward, but no foot could pass that terrible line; the killed and wounded ròlled together until the heap rose nearly even with the parapet, and the living mass behind melted away rather than gave back.

The shouts of the British now rose loudly, but they were confidently answered, and, in half an hour, a second column, more numerous than the first, again crowded the bridge. This time, however, the range was better judged, and ere half the distance was won, the multitude was again torn, shattered, dispersed, and slain; ten or twelve men only succeeded in crossing, and took shelter under the rocks at the brink of the river. The skirmishing was renewed, and a French surgeon coming down to the very foot of the bridge, waved his handkerchief, and commenced dressing the wounded under the hottest fire; nor was his appeal unheeded: every musket turned from him, although his still undaunted countrymen were preparing for a third attempt. The impossibility of forcing the passage was, however, become too apparent, and this last effort, made with feebler numbers and less energy, failed almost as soon as it commenced.

NOTES.-The Coa.-A tributary of the Douro, flowing into it from the south: it is in Portugal. The 24th of July, 1810.The Peninsular war began in July, 1808, and lasted till the abdication of Buonaparte, in 1814. In these years the British overthrew the French rule in Spain and Portugal, and drove the French back

into France. Wellington was the British General - in - Chief. The Turones. - A range of hills, from which there flows a tributary of the Coa. Ney, Michel.-A French Marshal-"the bravest of the brave." He was born in 1769, and was shot as a traitor (!) by the Bourbons, in 1814. His murder, after fighting

"100 battles for France,-not one against her," did great hurt to the restored dynasty which permitted it. Crawford. -A British General, killed at the assault of Ciudad Rodrigo, in 1812. Loison.-A French General. Caçadores.-Name for "Chasseurs" in the Portuguese army.

Literally-hunters, really-cavalry, as with the French "Chasseurs." Almeida. -A Portuguese town on the Coa. Montbrun.-A French cavalry general. Massena.-A French marshal. Born at Nice, in 1758; died in 1817. He was a Jew, and a very able soldier.

COMPOSITION.-Write out the last paragraph, using different words.

ENID'S SONG.-Tennyson.

TURN, Fortune, turn thy wheel and lower the proud;
Turn thy wild wheel thro' sunshine, storm, and cloud;
Thy wheel and thee we neither love nor hate.

Turn, Fortune, turn thy wheel with smile or frown;
With that wild wheel we go not up or down;
Our hoard is little, but our hearts are great.

Smile and we smile, the lords of many lands;
Frown and we smile, the lords of our own hands;
For man is man and master of his fate.

Turn, turn thy wheel above the staring crowd;
Thy wheel and thou are shadows in the cloud;
Thy wheel and thee we neither love nor hate.

SIR HENRY LAWRENCE.-Sir John William Kaye.

Sir John William Kaye was born in 1814. He began life as an Indian lieutenant of artillery, 1835-45; entered the Indian Civil Service in 1856, and is now Secretary to a Department of the India Office. An admirable writer. Among his best known books is the delightful one from which this extract is taken, "Lives of Indian Officers." The biographies it contains make one proud of his country and race. He has also written a "History of the War in Affghanistan," &c.

On the 2nd of July, as he was lying on his couch in an upper room of the Lucknow Residency, a shell burst beside him, and grievously shattered his thigh. His nephew, Mr. George Lawrence, immediately summoned Dr. Fayrer to his assistance,

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