advanced within 300 yards of the lines, the whole artillery at once opened upon them a most deadly fire. Forty pieces of cannon, deeply charged with grape, canister, and musket balls, mowed them down by hundreds; at the same time the batteries on the west bank opened their fire, while the riflemen, in perfect security behind their works, as the British advanced, took deliberate aim, and nearly every shot took effect. Through this destructive fire the British left column, under the immediate orders of the commander-in-chief, rushed on with their fascines and scaling-ladders to the advance bastion on the American right, and succeeded in mounting the parapet; here, after a close conflict with the bayonet, they succeeded in obtaining possession of the bastion, when the battery planted in the rear for its protection, opened its fire and drove the British from the ground. On the American left, the British attempted to pass the swamp and gain the rear, but the works had been extended as far into the swamp as the ground would permit. Some who attempted it sunk into the mire and disappeared; those behind, seeing the fate of their companions, seasonably retreated and gained the hard ground. The assault continued an hour and à quarter: during the whole time the British were exposed to the deliberate and destructive fire of the American artillery and musketry, which lay in perfect security behind their earthen breastworks, through which no balls could penetrate. At 8 o'clock, the British columns drew off in confusion, and retreated behind their works. Flushed with success, the militia were eager to pursue the British troops to their intrenchments, and drive them immediately from the island. A less prudent and accomplished general might have been induced to yield to the indiscreet ardor of his troops; but General Jackson understood too well the nature both of his own and his enemy's force to hazard such an attempt. Defeat must inevitably have attended an assault made by raw militia upon an intrenched camp of British regulars. The defence of New Orleans was the object; nothing was to be hazarded which would jeopardize the city. The British were suffered to retire behind their works without molestation. The result was such as might be expected from the different positions of the two armies. General Packenham, near the crest of the glacis, received a ball in his knee. Still continuing to lead on his men, another shot pierced his body, and he was carried off the field. Nearly at the same time, Major-General Gibbs, the second in command, within a few yards of the lines, received a mortal wound, and was removed. The third in command, Major-General Keane, at the head of his troops near the glacis, was severely wounded. The three commanding generals, on marshaling their troops at 5 o'clock in the morning, promised them a plentiful dinner in New Orleans, and gave them Booty and Beauty as the parole and countersign of the day. Before 8 o'clock the three generals were carried off the field, two in the agonies of death, and the third entirely disabled; leaving upwards of 2000 of their men, dead, dying, and wounded, on the field of battle. Colonel Raynor, who commanded the forlorn hope which stormed the American bastion on the right, as he was leading his men up, had the calf of his leg carried away by a cannon shot. Disabled as he was, he was the first to mount the parapet, and receive the American bayonet. Seven hundred were killed on the field, 1400 wounded, and 500 made prisoners, making a total on that day of 2600. But 6 Americans were killed and 7 wounded. Of General Morgan's detachment on the west bank, and in a sortie on the British lines, 49 were killed, and 178 wounded.

After the battle, General Lambert, who had arrived from England but two days before, and was now the only surviving general, requested a truce for the

purpose of burying his dead. This was granted until 4 o'clock in the afternoon of the 9th. Lines were drawn 100 rods distant from the American camp, within which the British were not permitted to approach. In the ditch, and in front of the works, within the prescribed lines, 482 British dead were picked up by the American troops, and delivered to their companions over the lines for burial. The afternoon of the 8th, and the whole of the 9th, was spent by the British army in burying their dead. The American sentinels guarding the lines during this interval, frequently repeated in the hearing of the British, while tumbling their companions by hundreds into pits, "Six killed, seven wounded."

Retreat of the British.-On the night of the 18th, they broke up their encampment, and commenced their retreat to the place of their first landing. To accomplish this with safety, it was necessary that the army should move in one body. With this view, immediately after the battle of the 8th, large working parties had been employed in constructing a road through a quagmire, for a considerable distance along the margin of the bayou: by binding together large quantities of reeds, and laying them across the mire; in the course of nine days, these parties had constructed someting resembling a road from their encampment to the place of debarkation. Along this insecure track the British army silently stole their march in the night of the 18th of January. By the treading of the first corps, the bundles of reeds gave way, and their followers had to wade up to their knees in mire. Several perished in the sloughs, the darkness of the night preventing their companions from affording relief. At the mouth of the bayou were a few huts, which afforded shelter for fishermen in the season of catching fish for the New Orleans market; here the troops halted and bivouacked previous to their embarkation. Their provisions being exhausted, a few crumbs of biscuit and a small allowance of rum was their only support. Here they were 80 miles from their ships, the whole of which distance they had to traverse in small open boats; and having but few of these, the embarkation occupied ten days. On the 27th, the whole land and naval forces which remained of this disastrous expedition, to their great joy, found themselves on board their ships. Their ranks thinned, their chiefs and many of their companions slain, their bodies emaciated with hunger, fatigue, and sickness, they gladly quitted this inauspicious country. The surviving commanding general observes, "that the services of both army and navy, since their landing on this coast, have been arduous beyond anything he ever before witnessed, and difficulties have been gotten over with an assiduity and perseverance beyond example by all ranks." A British officer of distinction, an actor in the scene, thus describes his tour from the encampment to the embarkation: "For some time our route lay along the high road beside the brink of the river, and was agreeable enough; but as soon as we began to enter upon the path through the marsh, all comfort was at an end. Being constructed of materials so slight, and resting upon a foundation so infirm, the treading of the first corps unavoidably beat it to pieces: those which followed were therefore compelled to flounder on in the best way they could; and by the time the rear of the column gained the morass, all trace of a way had entirely disappeared. But not only were the reeds torn asunder and sunk by the pressure of those who had gone before, but the bog itself, which at first might have furnished a few spots of firm footing, was trodden into the consistency of mud. The consequence was, that every step sunk us to the knees, and frequently higher. Near the ditches, indeed, many spots occurred which we had the utmost difficulty of crossing at all; and as the night was dark, there being no moon, nor any light, except

what the stars supplied, it was difficult to select our steps, or even to follow those who called to us that they were safe on the other side. At one of these places, I myself beheld an unfortunate wretch gradually sink, until he totally disappeared. I saw him flounder in, heard him cry for help, and ran forward with the intention of saving him; but before I had taken a second step, I myself sunk at once as high as the breast. I could feel no solid bottom under me, and continued slowly to go deeper and deeper till the mud reached my arms. Instead of endeavoring to help the poor soldier, of whom nothing now could be seen except the head and hands, I was forced to beg assistance for myself, when a leathern canteen strap being thrown me, I laid hold of it, and was dragged out just as my fellow-sufferer became invisible. Over roads such as these did we continue our march during the whole of the night, and in the morning arrived at a place called Fishermen's huts, consisting of a clump of mud-built cottages, standing by the edge of the water, on a part of the morass rather more firm than the rest. Here we were ordered to halt; wearied with exertions and oppressed with want of sleep, I threw myself on the ground without so much as taking off my muddy garments, and in an instant all cares and troubles were forgotten. Nor did I awake from that deep slumber for many hours; when I arose, cold and stiff, and addressed myself to the last morsel of salt pork my wallet contained. Without tents or huts of any description, our bed was the morass, and our only covering the clothes which had not quitted our backs for more than a month; our fires were composed solely of reeds, which, like straw, soon blaze up and expire again, without communicating any degree of warmth. But, above all, our provisions were expended, and from what quarter an immediate supply was to be obtained, we could not discover. Our sole dependence was upon the boats. Of these a flotilla lay ready to receive us, in which were already embarked the black corps and the 44th; but they had brought with them only food for their own use, it was therefore necessary that they should reach the fleet and return again before we could be supplied. But as the nearest shipping was 80 miles distant, and the weather might become boisterous, or the winds obstinate, we might starve before any supply could arrive. As soon as the boats returned, regiment after regiment embarked and set sail for the fleet; but the distance being considerable, and the wind foul, many days elapsed before the whole could be got off; by the end of the month, we were all once more on board our former ships."

THE State of Texas lies between 25° 50' and 36° 30′ N. latitude, and between 93° 30' and 107° W. longitude. It is bounded on the north by the Indian Territory and New Mexico, on the east by Arkansas, Louisiana, and the Gulf of Mexico, on the south by the Gulf of Mexico and the Republic of Mexico, and on the west by the Republic of Mexico and the Territory of New Mexico. It is very irregular in shape, and is the largest of the States. Its extreme length, from northwest to southeast, is estimated at 800 miles, and its extreme width, from east to west, at 750 miles.

TOPOGRAPHY.

"This great State embraces every variety of surface, mountain, plain, hill, and desert within its limits. In the southeast, along the coast is a level belt of land, from 30 to 60 miles in breadth, which is succeeded by an undulating and prairie country, occupying another belt of from 150 to 200 miles in width, which is followed in the west and northwest by the mountainous region and the table-land. The extreme north is invaded by the Great American Desert, which extends, perhaps, about 60 miles within the boundary of Texas. According to Mr. Bartlett, the pleateau of Texas, including part of New Mexico, extends from 30° to 34° N. latitude, and from the Rio Grande east for 300 miles. The north portion, called Llano Estacado or 'Staked Plain,' is 2500 feet above the sea. This broad district is des

titute of forest trees and shrubbery, except along the margins of the streams, and even there never extending 100 yards from the banks. Just after rains a short stunted grass springs up, but speedily becomes dry, affording little nourishment. In this region rise the Red, Brazos, and Colorado rivers. About 29° 30′ N. latitude the table-land breaks off into spurs, which descends to the prairies. The rivers have generally alluvial bottoms of from 3 to 20 miles in width, which are of great fertility, and heavily timbered. The belts referred to above run across the State in a direction nearly northeast and southwest, so that almost all the northern part of Eastern Texas is included in the second division, or the undulating country. Little is known of the elevated lands of the west and northwest, as they are yet the home of few white men except the hunters, who pursue its buffaloes and other wild