Extracts from the Journal of a Soldier.

come a whack on the side of his head, and would have done it too, but for your sakes. Then the rascal did not stop with his provocation here; but forsooth takes out an orange, as much as to say, your poor beggarly cold country cannot produce that 1 shewed him a whang of a bear bannock, meaning that I didna care a farthing for him nor his trash neither, as lang's I hae this: but by a' that's guid, (concluded Geordy) I am angry yet, that I didna thrash the hide o' the scoundrel!"-(So much for signs, or two ways of telling a story.)

Extracts from New Publications.

From the "Journal of a Soldier of the 71st, or Glasgow Regiment."

What

From Villa Franca we set out on the 2d January, 1809. a New-year's day had we passed! Drenched with rain, famished with cold and hunger, ignorant when our misery was to cease. This was the most dreadful period of my life. How differently did we pass our hogmanay from the manner our friends were passing theirs at home; not a voice said, "I wish you a happy new-year;" each seemed to look upon his neighbour as an abridgment to his own comforts. His looks seemed to say, "One or other of the articles you wear would be of great use to me; your shoes are better than those I possess; if you were dead they would be mine."

Before we set out, there were more magazines destroyed. Great numbers would not leave the town, but concealed themselves in wine cellars, which they had broken open, and were left there; others after we were gone, followed us. Many came up to the army dreadfully cut and wounded by the French cavalry, who rode through the long lines of those lame, defenceless wretches, slashing among them as a school-boy does among thistles. Some of them, faint and bleeding, were forced to pass alongst the line as a warning to others. Cruel warning! Could the urgency of the occasion justify it?

There was

something in the appearance of these poor emaciated, lacerated wret ches, that sickened me to look upon. Many around me said, "Our commanders are worse than the French: will they not even let us die in peace, if they cannot help us?" Surely this was one way to tantalize the men, and render them familiar to scenes of cruelty.

From Villa Franco to Castro is one continued toil up Monte del Cebiero. It was one of the sweetest scenes I ever beheld, could our

Extracts from the Journal of a Soldier.

eyes have enjoyed any thing that did not minister to our wants. There was nothing to sustain our famished bodies, or shelter them from rain or snow. We were either drenched with rain or crackling with ice. Fuel we could find none. The sick and wounded that we had been still enabled to drag with us in the waggons, were now left to perish in the snow The road was one line of bloody footmarks from the sore feet of the men; and on its sides lay the dead and the dying. Human Nature could do no more. Donald M'Donald, the hardy Highlander, began to fail. He, as well as myself, had long been barefooted and lame; he, that had encouraged me to proceed, now laid himself down to ie. For two days he had been almost blind, and unable, from a severe cold, to hold up his head. We sat down togethernot a word escaped our lips. We looked around-then at cach other, and closed our eyes. We felt there was no hope. We would have given in charge a farewell to our friends; but who was to carry it? There were not far from us, here and there, above thirty in the same situation with ourselves. There was nothing but groans, mingled with execrations, to be heard between the pauses of the wind. I attempted to pray, and recommend myself to God; but my mind was so confused, I could not arrange my ideas. I almost think I was deranged. We had not sat half-an-hour; sleep was stealing upon me; when I perceived a bustle around me. It was an advanced party of the French; unconscious of the action, I started upon my feet, levelled my musket, which I had still retained, fired, and formed with the other stragglers. The French faced about and left us. There were more of them than us. The action and the approach of danger in a shape which we had it in our power to repel, roused our dormant feelings, and we joined at Castro.

We immediately set off from Portalegre, along with the brigade commanded by General Hill, and after a most fatiguing march, the weather very bad, we arrived at Malpartida. The French were only ten miles distant. By a near cut on the Merida road, through Aldea del Cano, we got close up to them on the 27th, at Alcuesca, and were drawn up in columns, with great guns ready to receive them. They heard nothing of our approach. We went into the town. It was now nigh ten o'clock, the enemy were in Arroyo del Molino, only three miles distant. We got half a pound of rice served out to each man, to be cooked immediately. Hunger made little cooking necessary. The officers had orders to keep their men silent. We were placed in the houses, but our wet and heavy accoutrements were on no account to be taken off. At 12 o'clock we received our allowance of rum, and shortly after the sergeants tapped at the doors, calling not above their breath.

We turned out, and at slow time continued our march. The whole night was one continued pour of rain.

Weary and wet to the skin, we trudged on without. exchanging a word; nothing breaking the silence of the night save the howling of the wolves. The tread of the men was drowned by the pattering of

the rain.

Extracts from the Journal of a Soldier.

When day at length broke, we were close upon the town. The French posts had been withdrawn into it, but the embers still glowed in their fires. During the whole march, the 71st had been with the cavalry and horse-artillery as an advanced guard. General Hill rode up to our Colonel, and ordered him to make us clean out our pans, (as the rain had wet all the priming) form square, and retire a short distance, lest the French cavalry had seen us, and should make an attack: however, the drift was so thick they could not; it blew right in their faces when they might looked our way. The Colonel told us off in three divisions, and gave us orders to charge up three separate streets of the town, and force our way, without halting, to the other side. We shouldered our arms. The General, taking of his hat, said, “God be with you, quick march.” On reaching the gates we gave three cheers and in we went, the inhabitants calling, "Live the English," our piper playing Hey Johnny Cope; 'the French swearing, fighting in confusion, running here and there, some in shirts, some half-accoutred. The streets were crowded with baggage, and men ready to march, all now in one heap of confusion. On we drove; our orders were to take no prisoners, and neither to turn to the right nor left, until we reached the other side of the town. As we advanced, I saw the French General come out of a house, frantic with rage. Never will I forget the grotesque figure he made as he threw his cocked hat upon the ground and stamped upon it, gnashing his teeth. When I got the first glance of him he had many medals on his breast. In a minute his coat was as bare as a private's. We formed under cover of some old walls. A brigade of French stood in view. We got orders to fire,-not ten pieces in a company went off, the powder was again so wet with the rain. A brigade of Portuguese artillery came up, we gave the enemy another, leaped the wall, formed column, and drove them over the hill, down which they threw all their baggage before the surrendered. In this affair we took about 5000 prisoners, 1600 horses and 6 pieces of artillery, with a great quantity of baggage &c.

*.

The French left strong piquets in front, stole down the river, and crossed, hoping to surprise us and come upon our rear. We immediately blew up the bridge and retired; many of our men had to ford the river. We left a Spanish garrison in the fort and retired to the heights. There was a mill on the river side near the bridge, wherein a number of our men were helping themselves to flour, during the time the others were fording. Our Colonel rode down and forced them out, throwing a handful of flour on each man as he passed out of the mill. When we were drawn up on the heights, he rode along the column, looking for the millers as we called them. At this moment a hen put her head out of his coat-pocket, and looked first to one side and then to another. We began to laugh; we could not restrain ourselves. looked amazed and furious at us, then around. At length, the Major rode up to him, and requested him to kill the fowl outright, and put it into his pocket. The Colonel, in his turn, laughed-called his servants, and the millers were no more looked after.

He

Cornucopia-Zachary Boyd-A Compliment-Convenient Habit.

Cornucopia.

Zachary Boyd and Oliver Cromwell.-When Oliver Cromwell was at Glasgow, he attended Divine service in Mr. Boyd's church; where the preacher with great calmness and sincerity prayed, as usual, for the king. One of Oliver's people began to handle a carabine, but was checked by his commander, who said, "Let him alone, you are a fool as well as he." Next day Cromwell sent the minister an invitation to dinner. says Zachary to his wife, desires me to dine with him; he intends no doubt to hang me; and as one ought to appear with decency on those occasions, I beg you will let me have a clean cravat.-Cromwell, who did not like a man the worse for having courage, gave him a very kind reception, and a good dinner.

ner.

This man

Bon Mot. Mons. A, Professor and Principal in the Acadamy of Laumar used to spend five hours in the morning, regularly in his study, and was very punctual at the hour of dinOne day on his not appearing precisely at the dinner hour, his wife entered his study, and found him still reading. "I wish my love," said the lady," that I was a book." "Why so?" replied the Professor. Because you would then be constant with me." "I should have no objections, rejoined the Professor, provided you were an Almanack." Why an Almanack my dear?" "Because I should then have a new one every

year."

A Compliment.-A certain Doctor wrote a very small hand, and crowded a great deal into his pages: he did it to save the expense of paper. He put one of his manuscripts into a friend's hands to peruse; he returned it to him with this compliment, "If you reason as closely as you write, you are invincible.

Convenient Habit.-Judge Rooke in going the western circuit had a great stone thrown at his head; but from the circumstance of his stooping very much, it passed over him. You see, said he to his friends, that had I been an upright Judge, I might have been killed.

A sad situation.—A Judge was passing sentence in the usual form on one Macarty, a noted sheep-stealer. You are to be

The fair Sex-A Velocipeder-Hobby Horse-Reasons for not going to Church.

hanged by the neck until you are dead-and the Lord have mercy on your soul. The culprit immediately rejoined-Oh, oh! my Lord, you may save yourself any further trouble, for I never yet knew any one to thrive after your prayers.

The fair Sex. A stout negro, who to use the vulgar phrase, was as black as the ten of clubs, that is nine times blacker than the ace; was sometime since walking with a lady under each arm, no less sable than himself; when they drew near to two gentlemen who were engaged in close conversation, and though there was room to pass on the other side, the negro bolted between them crying Heh, massa, no got de politeness, why you no make room for de fair sec."

A Velocipeder A Velocipeder presented himself at a turnpike, and demanded, "What's to pay ?" That, said the waggish gate-keeper, depends upon whether you ride upon your hobby, or pull it through; in the latter case, you know, a two-wheel carriage, drawn by any horse, mule or ass, is liable to the toll; and you will, I suspect, come within the meaning of the Act.

Hobby Horse.-An apology was lately made for a young gentleman, a great promoter of ass-races at Margate, that it was his hobby-horse.

Reasons for not going to Church.-What is the reason, said a Clergyman to a farmer, one of his parishioners, I never see you at church? Why replied the farmer; I tell you I have three reasons: 1st, You have all the talk to yourself; 2dly, I don't like singing: and lastly, there is no drink.

Execution. When the Duke of Cumberland was on his way to extirpate the rebels in 1745, a party of his dragoons were foraging near the manse of Newton. The minister's man seeing them, took fright, and hid himself, most unfortunately, under what they were in quest of, namely, a quantity of straw. The straw was immediately removed, and the man seized. Guilt and fear are very like one another:-the poor man was instantly condemned for a rebel, and suspended on a tree: scarcely, however, had he felt his own weight, when a distant yoice informed the royal soldiers that he was only the minister's The half hanged ploughman was of course immediately cut down, and after taking time to collect himself, and believing he was in the other world, roared out with much terror, staring, and starting at the party, "Gude saf" us have they sodgers here too?"

man.