Another employment, also, deserves to be noted, because it is truly characteristic of the boyish jollity of young soldiers. Wearied with a state of idleness, the officers of the 7th, 43rd, and 14th dragoons made an attack with fir-apples upon those of the 85th, 93rd, and 95th. For the space of some days they pelted each other from morning till night, laying ambuscades and exhibiting, on a small scale, all the stratagems of war; whilst the whole army, not even excepting the Generals themselves, stood by and spurred them on.

But to continue a detail of such proceedings would only swell my narrative, without amusing my reader; I shall therefore content myself with observing, that things remained in this state till the 14th of March, when the long-looked for frigate at length arrived, and on the 15th, the first division of the army embarking, set sail for England. The wind, however, was foul, nor did the ships make any way till the 17th, when a fresh breeze springing up, we stood our course, and by ten o'clock on the 21st could distinguish the high land of Cuba. But the violence of the gale having driven us considerably to leeward, we were forced to bear up, and beat along the coast, on which account it was not till the 23rd that we came opposite to the port of Havannah.

HAVANNAH.

Than the approach to this city, and its first appearance from the water, it is impossible to conceive anything more grand and imposing. A little bay, extremely narrow at the entrance, forms the harbour. On each side of it stand forts of prodigious strength, particularly those on the left, where the ground is considerably elevated, whilst the city itself, with its ramparts and towers, its numerous steeples, spires, and public buildings, gives an assurance of wealth and magnificence peculiarly striking. When we entered, every tower was surmounted by a national banner half-mast high, a circumstance which did not at least diminish the effect of a first view; and the guns from the forts answering our salute, showed us how desperate must be the condition of an enemy that should venture within their range. Why the flags should thus indicate a general mourning, we were at a loss to guess, till the pilot informed us that this was Holy week. Then, indeed, we remembered that we had returned to a Roman Catholic country, and rejoiced at the lucky accident which had brought us thither at such a season.

As it was late before we anchored, I was prevented from landing that night, but on the morrow I went on shore at an early hour, with the intention of seeing as much as my time would allow. But in my proposed visits to the different points worthy of attention I was interrupted. It was Good-Friday, consequently all public places were shut, and neither guides nor carriages could be procured. But if I was disappointed in this, my disappointment was amply compensated by a view of the religious ceremonies peculiar to that day.

Walking into the largest church in the city, I beheld beside the altar a figure of our Saviour as large as life nailed to a cross. Beside this figure stood a number of monks, one of whom presented a rod with a sponge affixed to its mouth, while a second thrust a spear into its side, from which came out a liquor having the colour of blood and water. This being carefully caught in a golden dish, the figure was taken down from the cross, wrapped round with white linen clothes, and laid upon a bier, when an imposing procession began in the following order: First marched a military band playing slow and solemn music; next came a guard of soldiers with heads bent down and arms reversed; then followed about two hundred monks belonging to different orders, arrayed in their dark robes, with hands and feet bare, and crucifixes suspended from their necks. A short interval now succeeded, and another party of monks dressed in white appeared, singing hymns in honour of the Virgin. Next came a splendid couch surmounted by a canopy covered with white silk and sparkling with gold and jewels, upon which sat a waxen image of the Mother of God, clothed in gorgeous apparel. Following this was another party of white-robed monks, chanting a requiem for a departed soul, and then a second interval. At the distance of perhaps twenty yards from these came two monks bearing two large silver nails, then two others bearing a spear and a rod, and then the body of our Saviour stretched at full length upon the bier. After the bier came two monks bearing two other nails, and then another two bearing a small cross and a ladder. Here, again, there was another interval, which was succeeded by a third white-robed party likewise chanting a requiem. Next to these came about twenty canons arrayed in scarlet; then another couch covered with crimson velvet, which supported a figure of Mary Magdalen, likewise in a sitting posture; then a second body of canons, succeeded by about two hundred monks in black; after these another guard of soldiers, and last of all a second military band.

In spite of prejudice I could not avoid being deeply struck by this solemn procession. The airs performed by the bands were slow and mournful, the voices of the singers were deep and musical, the dresses were rich to a degree of splendour, and the whole was gone through with much apparent devotion. No doubt, when regarded with the eye of reflection, the whole may seem something worse than ludicrous, but it is impossible to witness the scene and to reason on its propriety at the same time. As long as the pageant is before your eyes you cannot avoid being powerfully impressed by it; nor is it till after it has disappeared that you are inclined to ask yourself why you gave way to feelings of that nature. Yet among the natives I thought I could observe a considerable degree of levity. It is true that as many as were in the streets or at the windows dropped upon their knees while the procession passed, but their careless looks and suppressed smiles sufficiently proved that they knelt only because they were obliged to kneel.

Commencing at the door of the church where the representation of the crucifixion had been exhibited, the funeral party (for it was neither more nor less) proceeded through the principal streets in the town with a slow and measured pace. As all except the soldiers walked two and two, it covered, I should conceive, little less than a mile in extent, and after winding from lane to lane and from square to square, directed its steps towards a particular convent, where the waxen image was solemnly deposited in a vault. It is said, but with what truth I cannot pretend to determine, that a different image is made use of every year, and that the vault is now so full of waxen corpses, that it will be necessary before long to have some of them destroyed.

Having now got rid of the most sacred part of their burthen, the monks, bearing only the two couches, returned in procession by the same route and in the same order as they had proceeded, only the bands struck up lively airs and the singers chanted hymns of rejoicing and hallelujahs. Instead of walking at a slow pace likewise, they stepped out almost in a sort of dance, and reaching the door of the great church they there separated, each party hastening to its own house to celebrate mass.

Into one or two of the convent chapels I likewise entered, and was present during the performance of their very striking service. I found them ornamented in the most magnificent manner, the rafters of many being gilded over and all the windows crowded with stained glass. Of pictures, and what struck me as something better than mere daubs, there were also great numbers. In a word, it seemed as if I had reached the heart and capital of Roman Catholic splendour. Nothing that I had beheld in the mother-country could at all compare with what was now before me, and I returned in the evening to my ship, not indeed a convert to the principles of that religion, but decidedly astonished and confounded at the solemn magnificence of its ceremonies.

CHAPTER XXV.

AT an early hour next morning I returned to the city, and found that the face of affairs had undergone a complete revolution. No more melancholy countenances, no closed shops and vacant streets were now to be seen; all was bustle and rejoicing, bells ringing, carriages rattling along, flags flying, and guns firing. The solemnity of Good-Friday ends, it appeared, at ten o'clock on Saturday morning, and from that time the merriments of Easter have their commencement.

The whole of this day I spent in strolling over the different walks and points of view from whence the town and surrounding country may be seen to most advantage; and I certainly must pronounce it to be by far the most magnificent colonial capital which I have visited. The streets are in general wide, clean, and airy; the houses, except in the suburbs, are composed entirely of stone, and being occasionally intermingled with convents, churches, and other public buildings, produce a very striking and handsome effect. Though surrounded by a rampart, Havannah has little of the confined and straitened appearance by which fortified towns are generally disfigured. The works being of great extent, have left within their circumference abundant room for the display of elegance and neatness in its construction, an advantage which has not been neglected; whilst from their situation they command as glorious a prospect as can well be imagined.

When you ascend a bastion which overhangs the harbour, the city, with all its towers and spires, lies immediately and distinctly beneath your gaze. Beyond it, again, you perceive a winding of the bay, which washes three sides of the promontory where the city stands; numerous fields of sugar-cane and Indian corn succeed, intersected by groves of orange and other fruit trees, which extend for some miles in a sort of inclined plane, and are at length bounded by lofty and rugged mountains. On your left, again, is the creek or entrance to the bay, separating you from the Moro, a line of castles remarkable for their strength and extent. Behind sweep the waters of the Gulf of Mexico; and on the right is another view much resembling that which lies before you, only that it is more narrowed; the high ground bearing in this direction closer upon the city. On the whole I do not remember to have been more forcibly struck by any scenery than that which I beheld from this bastion; so well were town and country, castles and convents, land and water, hill and valley combined.

Having spent some hours in wandering through the city, I endeavoured to make my way into the forts, and to examine the state of the works. But in both of these attempts I was interrupted. Without an order from the Governor, I was informed, that none, even of the natives, are permitted to enter the Moro, and all applications on the part of foreigners are uniformly refused. There was a degree of jealousy in this, as needless as it was illiberal; but indeed the whole conduct of the Spanish authorities gave proof of their reluctance to admit their old allies, even to the common rites of hospitality. From the moment we entered the harbour the militia of the island were called out, many of the guns which commanded our shipping were shotted, and artillerymen with lighted fuzes stood constantly beside them. An order was likewise issued, prohibiting more than two persons to land at the same time from each vessel, and many other precautions were taken, little complimentary to the good faith of those to whom Spain must feel that she owes her very existence. In spite of these drawbacks, however, I contrived to spend a week in this city with much satisfaction. The opera and theatre opening on Easter Sunday, and continuing open during the remainder of our stay, furnished sufficient amusement for the evenings, whilst in walking or riding about, in examining the different churches and chapels, and in chatting with nuns through the grate, or monks within their cells, my mornings passed away more quickly than I desired.

At length our victualling and watering being complete, on the 9th of April we bade adieu to the shores of Cuba, and running along with the Gulf-stream, took our course towards Bermuda. The wind favoured us greatly, and on the 17th we again reached these islands; where we delayed till the 23rd, when, once more setting sail, we steered directly for England. During the remainder of the voyage nothing of importance occurred till the 7th of May, when, reaching in towards the shores of Brest, we were astonished by beholding the tri-coloured flag floating from the citadel. Of the mighty events which dad taken place in Europe, we were as yet in perfect ignorance. Though surprised, therefore, at the first view of that beacon of war, we naturally concluded it to be no more than a signal, and passed on without inquiry. As we ascended the channel, however, we were hailed by a schooner, which professed to communicate some news concerning Buonaparte; but the wind being high, we could not distinctly tell what was said; nor was it till the 9th, when we had anchored off Spithead, that the reappearance of that wonderful man was made known.

The effect of this intelligence it would be difficult to describe. At first it was received with acclamations, but by and bye those who had dreamed of home began to perceive in it the destruction of their visions. Yet we considered that we were soldiers, and certainly no regret was experienced when we were ordered to re-embark, and sail for the Downs.

REMARKS.

Having thus brought my narrative to a conclusion, I cannot lay aside my pen without offering a few remarks upon the events of this busy year, and the nature of an American war in general. In doing so, I shall begin with the unfortunate attack upon New Orleans, and endeavour, in as few words as possible, to assign the true causes of its failure.

From the account which I have given of this affair, it will appear that, from its very commencement, it was replete with error, and gave promise of no better result than actually occurred. I do not here allude to the spot fixed upon for landing, because that was as appropriate as could be chosen. Neither do I refer to the groundless rumours brought in by deserters; for to such all assailants are liable; but the error lay in the steps subsequently taken; in the unhappy advance of the first division from a place of concealment into the open country, without pushing forward to the extent required. The fact is, that having reached the main land in safety, one out of two plans might have been selected by General Keane; which, in all probability, would have been equally attended with success. Either he might have remained in the morass till the whole army was assembled, or, if this were deemed too dangerous, he ought to have advanced upon the city with the first division alone. If it be objected that a force of 1600 men was incompetent for an undertaking so important as the latter, I reply that there could be no more hazard in it than in the course actually pursued. New Orleans is not a regular fortification requiring a large army and a powerful battering train for its reduction. In obtaining possession of such a place there would have been no difficulty, because it has since been ascertained that the American troops were, at the time of our landing, some miles above the city; and surely it would not have been more difficult to repulse an attack within a town than in the open country. But neither of these courses was adopted. The advance was drawn from concealment, and halted just where it became most exposed, as if it had been our design to warn the American General of his danger; the consequence of which was a well-directed attack upon our bivouac, and an immediate commencement of those works which afterwards resisted and repelled all our efforts.

The second error evident in this business was the selection of the schooner instead of the ship for destruction. Had the latter, which lay farther up the stream been destroyed, the former never could have passed our battery, nor been of further annoyance to us; whereas, the schooner being burnt, the ship was only removed out of the reach of danger, and posted where she could be infinitely more advantageous to her friends and detrimental to her enemies. This in itself was a grave error, which beyond all doubt contributed, in some degree, to our repulse on the 29th of December.

The third error, and one which continued to exert its influence throughout the whole campaign, was the delay in bringing on a general action. Why our troops fell back on the 29th I confess is to me a mystery. It was not to be supposed that an officer who had shown so much judgment as the American General, Jackson, in his first endeavours to check our advance, would lose the advantage which the nature of his position afforded. That he would fortify the neck of land, indeed, was exactly what might have been expected: and, therefore, every hour during which an attack was deferred, contributed so much to his strength and to our weakness. It is true that we should have suffered, and perhaps suffered severely; but our chances of suffering were certainly not diminished by delay. We ought, therefore, instead of falling back, to have pursued our operations with vigour on that day; because the American lines, being then incomplete, would have assisted rather than retarded our progress.

It has been said, and perhaps truly, that the movement on the 29th was never intended for more than a reconnoissance: and that the scheme subsequently adopted, of overpowering the enemy's fire by a superior artillery brought from the fleet, was a wise one. All this may be true; but as we did not succeed in silencing the enemy's batteries, who, on the contrary, put ours to silence, either the project was faulty in its design, or some grievous error was committed in its execution. As far as our position was affected by it, the results were these:—Three days more were lost in making preparations, which ended in nothing; while, by the enemy, these same days were judiciously and indefatigably employed to improve their deficiency and recruit their force.

At last came the idea of digging a canal from the lakes to the river, by means of which a portion of our army might be thrown to the other side; a project which is said to have been suggested by Sir Alexander Cochrane; but which, wheresoever originating, was at once bold and judicious. The canal was accordingly formed; not, however, with sufficient attention to the rules of art in like cases, as was shown by the falling in of the banks, and the consequent impossibility of bringing up boats to transport the whole detachment. Still there it was, and 350 men, instead of 1400, made good their landing on the right bank of the river. It is deeply to be regretted that Sir Edward Pakenham did not delay his own advance with the main body till this fact had been ascertained. His plan of battle was to carry the enemy's works on the right bank, to turn their own guns from that flank against themselves, and to alarm them for their communications, ere he should attack the main position on the left. Nor can it be doubted, that had the detached corps arrived at the hour first named, an easy triumph would have been achieved. But Pakenham was too fiery to restrain his troops, after they had assumed their ground on his own side. Instead, therefore, of causing the columns to fall back out of gun-shot, and wait quietly till the battle began on the left, he hurried them into action as soon as the day dawned; and they became exposed to the whole of that volume of fire which it was one main object of his movement across the Mississippi to destroy. Moreover, from all the moral effects of a partial defeat the enemy were saved; and I need not say how serious such things are to irregular and undisciplined bodies. I do not mean to assert that, in spite of all this, the American lines ought not to have been carried. On the contrary, had every officer and man done his duty, the victory would have been complete, though purchased, beyond a doubt, at a severe cost. Yet it is absurd to deny that, speaking of the movement as an operation of war, the attack on the right ought to have been withheld till that on the left had either failed or succeeded. So far, therefore, the General is liable to censure; and chivalrous and high-minded as he was, it is just that he should receive it. But there were other causes of defeat than this; among which, the gross misconduct of one individual deserves to be especially noticed.

To Lieutenant-Colonel Mullens, with the 44th regiment, of which he was in command, was intrusted the arduous and therefore honourable duty of carrying the fascines and ladders. The orders were given in good time over night; and Colonel Mullens received them as if they had conveyed a sentence of death. He stated, in the hearing of the private soldiers, that his corps was devoted to destruction; and conducted himself, in every respect, like a condemned criminal on the night previous to his execution. When the troops got under arms, instead of bringing his battalion to the redoubt, where he had been instructed to find the ladders, he marched directly past it, and led them into the field without a single ladder or fascine. When the day dawned, and he was sent back for these instruments, he headed his corps in its retrograde movement, but left it to return as it could to the front; and when sought for to guide the attack, he was nowhere to be found. That a regiment thus abused and deserted by its commanding officer should fall into confusion, cannot occasion any surprise; it would have been surprising indeed, had a different result ensued. But the melancholy effect of such confusion was, that other regiments were likewise broken; and before order could be restored, all the Generals were borne dead or wounded from the field. A large share, therefore, of the blame attachable to this failure must rest where fidelity of narration has obliged me to place it.

Again, the recall of the victorious detachment from the left to the right bank of the Mississippi, and the consequent abandonment of that complete command of the river which this partial success had obtained, was a military error of the gravest kind. Great as our numerical loss had been in the principal action of the 8th, the advantages of position were at the close of the day so decidedly with us, that for General Jackson to maintain himself any longer in front of New Orleans was physically impossible. His own dispatch, indeed, addressed to the Secretary-at-War, shows that he felt the truth so forcibly, that he had actually issued orders for a retreat, when the removal of the English from his menaced flank was reported to him; and his battalions, which had begun to get under arms, were directed to resume their places. It is, however, but just to state, that such was the miserable condition of our commissariat, that the fleet contained not provisions enough to feed the people on half rations during a quick passage to Cuba; and General Lambert did not feel that he would be justified in risking the total loss of his army, which, had the campaign been prolonged another fortnight, must under such circumstances have taken place. That he erred in this supposition is certain; but his was probably an error into which most men similarly circumstanced would have fallen.

But the primary cause of all our disasters may be traced to a source even more distant than any yet mentioned; I mean, to the disclosure of our designs to the enemy. How this occurred I shall not take it upon me to declare, though several rumours bearing at least the guise of probability have been circulated. The attack upon New Orleans was professedly a secret expedition; so secret, indeed, that it was not communicated to the inferior officers and soldiers in the armament till immediately previous to our quitting Jamaica. To the Americans, however, it appears to have been known long before; and hence it was that, instead of taking them unawares, we found them fully prepared for our reception. Nor is this all. It appears difficult to account for the degree of negligence which affected the naval heads of the present expedition, as far as the providing a competent number of boats and small craft to transport the troops is concerned. Throughout the whole fleet, barges enough to carry one-half of the army could not be found; whereas there ought to have been a sufficient quantity to contain not only the entire force, but all its stores and ammunition. To this neglect, indeed, more perhaps than to any other circumstances, is the failure of the attempt to be attributed; since not a doubt can exist that, if General Keane had been enabled to bring the whole of his army to land on the morning of the 23rd, he would have reached New Orleans, without firing a shot, before nightfall. But the opportunity is past, it cannot be recalled, and therefore to point out errors on the part of my countrymen can serve no good end. That the failure is to be lamented no one will deny, since the conquest of New Orleans would have proved beyond all comparison the most valuable acquisition that could be made to the British dominions throughout the whole western hemisphere. In possession of that post we should have kept the entire southern trade of the United States in check, and furnished means of commerce to our own merchants of incalculable value.

The fact, however, is, that when we look back upon the whole series of events produced by the late American war, we shall find little that is likely to flatter our vanity or increase our self-importance. Except a few successes in Canada at its very commencement, and the brilliant inroad upon Washington, it will be found that our arms have been constantly baffled or repulsed on shore; whilst at sea, with the exception of the capture of the Chesapeake and one or two other affairs towards its conclusion, we have been equally unsuccessful. From what cause does this proceed? Not from any inferiority in courage or discipline, because in these particulars British soldiers and sailors will yield to none in the world. There must, then, be some other cause for these misfortunes, and the cause is surely one which has continually baffled all our plans of American warfare.

We have long been habituated to despise the Americans as an enemy unworthy of serious regard. To this alone it is to be attributed that frigates half manned were sent out to cope with ships capable of containing them within their hulls; and to this also the trifling handfuls of troops dispatched to conduct the war by land. Instead of fifteen hundred, had ten thousand men sailed from the Garonne under General Ross, how differently might he have acted! There would have been then no necessity for a reembarkation after the capture of Washington, and consequently no time given for the defence of Baltimore; but, marching across the country, he might have done to the one city what he did to the other. And it is thus only that a war with America can be successfully carried on. To penetrate up the country amidst pathless forests and boundless deserts, and to aim at permanent conquest, is out of the question. America must be assaulted only on her coasts. Her harbours destroyed, her shipping burned, and her seaport towns laid waste, are the only evils which she has reason to dread; and were a sufficient force embarked with these orders, no American war would be of long continuance.

A melancholy experience has now taught us that such a war must not be entered into, unless it be conducted with spirit; and there is no conducting it with spirit, except with a sufficient numerical force. To the plan proposed of making desert the whole line of coast, it may be objected, that by so doing we should distress individuals, and not the Government. But they who offer this objection, forget the nature both of the people whose cause they plead, and of the Government under which they live. In a democratical Government, the voice of the people must at all times prevail. The members of the House of Representatives are the very persons who, from such proceedings, would suffer most severely, and we all know how far private suffering goes to influence a man's public opinions. Besides, the principle upon which the advocates for the sacredness of private property proceed, is erroneous. Every one will allow that, in absolute monarchies, where war is more properly the pastime of kings than the desire of subjects, non-combatants ought to be dealt with as humanely as possible. Not so, how ever, in States governed by popular assemblies. By compelling the constituents to experience the real hardships and miseries of warfare, you will compel the representatives to a vote of peace; and surely that line of conduct is, upon the whole, most humane, which puts the speediest period to the cruelties of war. There are few men who would not rather endure a raging fever for three days, than a slow and lingering disease for three months. So it is with a democracy at war. Burn their houses, plunder their property, block up their harbours, and destroy their shipping in a few places; and before you have time to proceed to the rest, you will be stopped by entreaties for peace. Whereas, if you do no mischief that can be avoided, if you only fight their fleets and armies wherever you meet them, and suffer the inhabitants to live in undisturbed tranquillity, they will continue their hostilities till they have worn out the means of one party, and greatly weakened those of both.

Should another war break out between Great Britain and America, this is the course to be adopted by the former. Besides which, I humbly conceive that a second attempt might be hazarded upon New Orleans, because the importance of the conquest would authorise almost any sacrifice for its attainment; and once gained, it could easily be defended. The neck of land, upon which it is built, extends in the same form above as below the town; and the same advantages which it holds out to its present defenders would, of course, be afforded to us. A chain of works thrown across from the river to the marsh would render it inaccessible from above; whilst by covering the lakes and the Mississippi with cruisers, all attacks from below would be sufficiently guarded against.

THE END.