intrenchments at the sight, and then all was still again. The levee here was contracted to four hundred yards in width, and as the columns, sixty or seventy deep, crowded over this avenue, every cannon on the breastwork was trained upon them by Baratarian, French and American engineers, and the moment they came within range, a murderous fire opened. Frightful gaps were made in the ranks at every discharge, which were closed by living men only the next moment to be re-opened. The Americans stood with their hands clenched around their muskets and rifles, gazing with astonishment on this new, unwonted spectacle. The calm and steady advance under such an incessant and crushing fire, carried with it the prestige of victory. As they approached the ditch, the columns swiftly, yet beautifully deployed, and under the cover of blazing bombs and rockets, that filled the air in every direction, and stooped hissing over the American works, pressed forward with loud cheers, to the assault. Nothing but cannon had spoken till then from that low breastwork; but as those two doomed columns reached the farthest brink of the ditch, the word "Fire!" ran along the American line--the next moment the intrenchments were in a blaze. It was a solid sheet of flame rolling on the foe. Stunned by the tremendous and deadly volleys, the front ranks stopped and sunk in their footsteps, like snow when it meets the stream. But high over the thunder of cannon were heard the words of command, and drums beating the charge; and still bravely breasting the fiery sleet, the ranks pressed forward, but only to melt away on the brink of that fatal ditch. Jackson, with flashing eye and flushed brow, rode slowly along the lines, cheering the men, and issuing his orders, followed by loud huzzas as he passed. From the effect of the American volleys, he knew, if the troops stood firm, the day was his own, and with stirring appeals and confident words he roused them to the same enthusiasm which animated his breast and beamed from his face. The soldiers of Gen. Adair, stationed in the rear of Carrol, loaded for those in front, so that there was no cessation to the fire. It was a constant flash and peal along the whole line. Every man was a marksman, every shot told, and no troops in the world could long withstand such a destructive fire. The front of battle, torn and rent, wavered to and fro on the plain, when Packenham galloped up, and riding bravely through the shaking ranks, for a moment restored order. The next moment he reeled from his saddle mortally wounded. Generals Gibbs and Keane, while nobly struggling to rally the men, were also shot down, and the maddened columns turned and fled. Lambert, hastening up with the reserve, met the fugitives, and endeavored, but in vain, to arrest the flight. They never halted till they reached a ditch four hundred yards distant, into which they flung themselves to escape the scourging fire that pursued them. Here he at last rallied them to