Another beautiful scene, and one full of excitement, now presented itself. We were descending by a gentle slope toward Nivelle, which lay spread out before us--its towers and masses of building, especially what appeared to be the ruins of an ancient castle, sweetly touched by the golden light of the setting sun, whilst the greater part lay in deep-toned purple obscurity. Fine trees, with dark overhanging foliage, bordering the road, formed a foreground and frame, as it were, to this picture. Beyond the town the ground rose, also in shadowy obscurity, crowned with sombre woods, over which ascended the greyish blue smoke of the battle, now apparently so near that we fancied we could hear the shouts of the combatants--a fancy strengthened by crowds of people on the heights, whom we mistook for troops--inhabitants of Nivelle, as we soon discovered, seeking to get a sight of the fearful tragedy then enacting. Before entering the town we halted for a moment, lighted our slow matches, put shot into our leathern cartouches, loaded the guns with powder, and stuck priming wires into the vents to prevent the cartridges slipping forward, and, thus prepared for immediate action, again moved on. On entering the town what a scene presented itself! How different from the repose of the country we had been traversing all day! There all was peace and tranquillity, undisturbed--absolutely undisturbed, except by the hurried march of successive columns along the highroad. There the rustic pursued his wonted labours as in profound peace, the mill went its rumbling round, the birds carolled on the spray. True, the sounds of battle came borne on the evening breeze--the brattle of musketry and the boom of cannon shook the air; but it was distant--very distant--and might be heard, and the ascending smoke seen, with that sort of thrilling sensation with which we witness the progress of the storm when we ourselves are secure from its effects. Here, on the contrary, all was confusion, agitation, and movement. The danger was impending; explosion after explosion, startling from their vicinity, and clattering peals of musketry, like those lengthened thunder-claps which announce to us so awfully the immediate neighbourhood of the electric cloud. The whole population of Nivelle was in the streets, doors and windows all wide open, whilst the inmates of the houses, male and female, stood huddled together in little groups like frightened sheep, or were hurrying along with the distracted air of people uncertain where they are going, or what they are doing. The scene was strangely interesting. In a sort of square which we traversed, a few soldiers, with the air of citizens (probably a municipal guard), were drawn up in line, looking anxiously about them at the numerous bleeding figures which we now began to meet. Some were staggering along unaided, the blood falling from them in large drops as they went. One man we met was