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right wing at Tudella was commanded by Palafox, and the left at Cascante, by Castanos, which extended a league and a half; this errour the French took immediate advantage of, and pierced through the centre without fear, and Le Febre with his division of cavalry, pressed into the opening, and by a quarter wheel to the left, cut off the whole of Palafox's right wing. Castanos could not relieve him, which, had his force been concentrated, he might have done. But he was at the same time attacked by General Legrange, at the village of Cascante, and he retreated almost without resistance, but in good order. Palafox on the other hand, was treated more roughly; but on the whole, the Spanish loss, when viewed through the magnifying medium of French accounts, does not appear very alarming. There were only 6000 men engaged, and the enemy claim a loss of 4000 Spaniards, killed, or ' driven into the Ebro. The real loss is probably much less; but even that is small compared with the magnitude of the Spanish army, and the pretended completeness of the victory. After these battles, the French armies occupied nearly a square of about 160 geographical miles, and the Spanish and English armies were posted in various positions and in sufficient force on three sides of it: and from the extreme caution of the French movements, and the litle extent of country they have conquered, we do not yet think it time to suffer our expectations to subside into despondency.

Vol. 1.

Roads of Spain.

The following itinerary of the principal great roads from Madrid to the chief towns of the provinces, will be found very convenient by all persons reading the newspapers of the day. Many of the distances are stated from actual admeasurement: others are taken from the computed leagues of the country as estimated for the march of soldiers or hire of travelling horses, some of which have been corrected from the observations of the late M. Mechain, in his trigonometrical survey of Spain, in which he was employed, as well as in measuring a degree of the meridian in that country sometime in 1805. But as the country is very mountainous, and consequently the roads very crooked, no geometrical survey of the distances between the chief towns, as reduced from maps, can deserve the least attention; on the contrary, there are many places where the linear distances and the actual length of the carriage roads differ one fourth. It is to be observed that the nominal or common league of Spain is not less than four English miles, and that frequently the distance between villages estimated at a league, varies from .34 to 4 English miles.

U

able to any thing but asses, mules, sheep, or black cattle. the bridle roads, which are shorter, more mountainous, and generally impassN. B. The distances in this table are taken on the carriage roads, and not Port Folio.

or 452 English miles; and so with all the others. 252 English miles: if from Badajos to Zaragoza, we find 113 leagues, the former, and immediately opposite the latter, gives 63 leagues, or distance between Badajos and Madrid, the angle of the column under the metropolis or court of Spain, MADRID. If it is desired to know the towns of the provinces, or, as they are usually called, kingdoms, and leagues between all the capital

This table represents the number of

Badajos.
165

93

Barcelona.

100 Burgos.

60 177 154 Cadiz.

39

Cordova.

47 131 118
67 138 122

52

20 Granada.

54

61 120 108 56 14 14 Jaen.
83 134 32 135 98 110 96
63 102 54 102 64 68
88 112 98. 50 50
158 56 161 124 136 122

97

38

110

123 67 38 160 124 120 112
120 176 S9 181 140 160 140
37 150 140 23 22

51 114

88

35
50 54
74 73

110 55

86 120

113

52

52 | 134 | 100 | 105

99

Leon.

55 | Madrid.

114

59| Murcia.

26

82 139

Oviedo.

60

60 102

86 | Pamplona.

106 159

56 | 123 | Santiago.

58
32 | 112
41

88 68

138 148 156 | Seville.

12

53

92

64 107 51

32

133

92 85 50

80 111

89

72 | 112 | 76 | Toledo.
72 157 99

27 125

125|

59 | Valencia.

62 45 Zaragoza.

POETRY.

THE poets of the northern section of the United States are as frigid as the season, and we have obtained but little assistance in this department. The occasional specimens, however, which appear in the Chronicle and other democratick papers, are apt to excite our risibility, if they do not extort our praise. The tendency of the original rhymes of that paper is almost always to some democratick purpose; on this account we shall feel obliged to any correspondent who will take the trouble to expose the absurdities either of style or sentiment, which are contained in such compositions; since by so doing he will confer a benefit on the community, and offer an agreeable repast to the lovers of good humour, and satirick assault. The intention of the following lines from the Chronicle, is to revive a subject which ought to be buried in oblivion; the laws have long since decided the question which it involves. We therefore have no hesitation in publishing the parody which follows them, which we have received from a correspondent.

From the CHRONICLE.

1

I send to the Chronicle the following lines written by J. DE WOLF, Esq. of Bristol, (R. I.)-which for their harmony of numbers, felicity of expression, originality of design, and adaptation to existing sensations of the publick mind, must possess a respectful standing on the list of good writing. LEANDER.

THE MURDERER'S DREAMS.

O'ER the bog and o'er the fen,
Through the dark and pathless glen,

At midnight's hour I stray-
By the thick, unwholesome stream,
Where noxious vapours dimly gleam,
And deadly exhalations rise,
And the black-wing'd raven flies;
Where the alligator sleeps,
And the dire asp envenom'd creeps,
I pace my lonely way.

Shrill sings the chill blast through the sedge,
Loud shrieks the night-bird from the hedge,
The wand'ring mad-dog yells-
Fell witches ply their hellish art,
And feast upon the infant's heart,

And blast me with their spells.

On the dark and lonely shore,
Where tempests howl and billows roar,
And burst upon the strand-
While lightnings hiss around my head,
And chill my guilty soul with dread;
In frantick fancy oft I stand.

With frantick yell, and horrid form,
The black-wing'd demon of the storm,
Above me lowly cowers-

He names the deed-the damning deed-
And points to murder'd forms that bleed,
While Heaven darker lowers.

Oft o'er the wild and blasted heath,
Mid shrieks of woe and forms of death,

Some phantom I pursue

Pale eyeless spectres burst the ground,
And rush in maniack dance around-
Oft they raise their fleshless hands,
Beck'❜ning to where the gibbet stands,
And shout, behold thy due!'

·

Such are the dreams that hover o'er my bed,
Since by my arm the hapless AUSTIN bled!

MESSRS. EDITORS,

I send to the Ordeal the following lines, written by J. DE WOLF, Esq. of Bristol, (R. 1.) in which I have made a few alterations, (much for the better) and which, for their harmony of numbers, felicity of expression, originality of design, conformity to truth, and adaptation to publick opinion, must possess a respectful standing on the list of good writing. LEANDER.

THE SLANDERER'S DREAMS.

WHEN on my restless couch reclin❜d,
What horrid visions haunt my mind,

At midnight's solemn hour!
Methought the messenger of woe,
Bore me to sulph'rous realms below,
Consign'd to Pluto's power.

'Miscreant! (he cryied) the hour is come
Appointed for thy future doom;

Thy crimes shall have their due,

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Thy slanders, and thy hate of truth,
Thy sins of age and sins of youth,
Shall pass in just review.'

O'er the bog and o'er the fen,
Through the dark and pathless glen,
Where the the alligator sleeps,
And the asp envenom'd creeps,

We take our dismal way:
By the thick unwholesome stream,
Where noxious vapours dimly gleam,
And deadly exhalations rise,
And the black-wing'd raven flies,
With trembling limbs I stray.

Red lightnings hiss around my head,
And chill my guilty soul with dread;

The wand'ring mad-dog yells :
Fell witches ply their hellish art,
And feast upon my grieving heart,

And blast me with their spells.

With frantick yell and horrid form,
The black-wing'd demon of the storm

Above me threatening cowers;
He names each sland'rous damning deed,
And points were murder'd reputations bleed,
While hell e'en darker lowers.

O'er the wild and blasted heath,
Mid shrieks of woe and forms of death,

Pale phantoms me pursue;
Millions of spectres burst the ground,
And rush in maniack dance around;
And raise their glaring sunken eyes,
Beck'ning to where the flames arise,

And shout "behold thy due!'

head;

Such are the dreams that hover o'er my
Such visions nightly haunt HONESTUS' thorny bed.

TRANSLATION FROM THE GERMAN.

WHOEVER has perused the prophetick metrical compositions of

VAN VANDER HORDERCLOGETH must surely remember the poem

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