All the horses belonging to different officers had likewise been removed to drag the guns, nor was any one allowed to ride, lest a neigh, or even the trampling of hoofs, should excite suspicion. The fires were trimmed, and made to blaze bright; and fuel enough left to keep them so for some hours; and finally, about half-past nine o'clock, the troops formed in marching order, and moved off in the most profound silence. Not a word was spoken, nor a single individual permitted to step one inch out of his place; and thus they passed along the streets perfectly unnoticed, and cleared the town without any alarm being given.— Campaigns in America, REFLECTIONS UPON THE BATTLE OF NEW ORLEANS. The primary cause of our defeat may be traced to the disclosure of our designs to the enemy. How this occurred, I shall not take it upon me to declare. 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. But it is past, and 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 been the most valuable acquisition that could be made to the British dominion 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. Should another war break out between Great Britain and America, there is but one course by which it can be successfully carried on by us. To penetrate up the country amidst pathless forests and boundless deserts, and to aim at permanent conquest, is out of the ques tion. America must be assaulted only on her coasts. Her harbors 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. To the plan which I propose, of making desert the whole line of coasts, 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. I admit that in some 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, however, in states governed by popular assemblies. By compelling the constituents to experience the real hardships and miseries of warfare, you will soon compel the representatives to a vote of peace. 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 harbors, 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. Should another war break out between Great Britain and the United States, this is the course to be adopted by the former. Besides this, I humbly conceive that a second attempt should be made upon New Orleans; since the importance of the conquest would authorize any sacrifice for its attainment, and when once gained it could easily be defended. The neck of land on which that city is built extends in the same manner above it as below; and therefore the same advantages which it holds out to its present defenders it would likewise hold out to us. A chain of works thrown across it from the river to the marsh would render it inaccessible from above; while by covering the lakes and the Mississippi with cruisers, all attacks from below would be sufficiently guarded against.- Campaigns in America. LOUCESTER, ROBERT OF, an English chronicler and poet, who flourished about 1290, living during the reign of Henry III. and Edward I. He was a monk of Gloucester. His principal work is a rhymed Chronicle of England, from the legendary age of Brut down to the close of the reign of Henry III. (1272). He also wrote poems on the Martyrdom of Thomas à Becket and the Life of St. Brandan and other Saints. His own language is mainly Anglo-Saxon, although the Norman-French was prevalent in England in his time. In the following extracts his language has been considerably modernized, both in spelling and in the words themselves. ENGLAND AND THE NORMANS. Thuse come, lo! Engelond into Normannes honde; speche, And speke French as due atom, and here chyldren dude al so teche; So that heymen of thys lond, that of her blod come, Ac lowe men holdeth to Englyss and to her kunde speche yute. Ich wene ther ne be man in world contreyes none That ne noldeth to her kunde speche bot Engelond one. Ac wel me wot vor to conne both wel yt ys; Bor the more that a man con, the more worth he ys. And the Normans could speak them but their own speech, And spake French as [they] did at home, and their children did also teach; So that hign men of this land, that of their blood come, Hold all the same speech that they of them took; For but [except] a man know French men tell of him well little; But low men hold to English and to their natural speech yet. I wene there not be man in world countries none That not holdeth to their natural speech but England alone. But well I wot for to know both well it is; For the more that a man knows, the more worth he is. THE MUSTER FOR THE FIRST CRUSADE, 1095. A good pope was thilk time at Rome, that hecht Urban That preached of the creyserie, and creysed mony man. In the year of grace a thousand and sixteen, This great creyserie began, that long was i-seen. Of so much folk nyme the cross, ne to the holy lond go, For self women ne beleved, that they ne wend thither fast, Ne young folk [that] feeble were, the while the voyage y-last. So that Robert Carthose thitherward his heart cast, And, among other good knights, ne thought not be the last, He wends here to Englond for the creyserie, And laid William his brother to wed Normandy, And borrowed of him thereon an hundred thousand mark, To wend with to the holy lond, and that was some-deal stark. The Earl Robert of Flanders mid him wend also, And Eustice Earl of Boulogne, and mony good knight thereto. There wend the Duke Geoffrey, and the Earl Baldwin there, And the other Baldwin also, that noble men were, And kings syth all three of the holy lond. The Earl Stephen de Blois wend eke, that great power had on hond, And Robert's sister Curthose espoused had to wive. There wend yet other knights, the best that were alive; As the Earl of St. Giles, the good Raymond, And Niel the king's brother of France, and the Earl Beumond. And Tancred his nephew, and the Bishop also Of Podys, and Sir Hugh the great Earl thereto; Of Scotlond and of Greece, of Rome and Aquitain. LOVER, RICHARD, an English poet; born at London in 1712; died there, November 25, 1785. He was the son of a London and Hamburg merchant, and followed the vocation of his. father; but he devoted much of his time to letters, and was considered one of the best Greek scholars of his day. In 1737 he wrote an epic poem, Leonidas, which was very popular in its day. This was fol |