the fire of the others gradually abated, and in a few hours all opposition from the flotilla ceased. Meantime the main body of the besieging army pushed on its advanced posts with great vigour: they carried their approaches to within four hundred yards of the ramparts, and forced one of the strongest redoubts, which was turned against the enemy. Having heard that a considerable body of troops had assembled in order to surprise us, a detachment, consisting of four regiments of British infantry, with a squadron of hussars, under the command of Sir Arthur Wellesley, was ordered to march against it. We found the Danes, fourteen thousand strong, advantageously posted in front of the small town of Kioge. The attack began on our part with the usual spirit. Some little impression having been made on the enemy’s line, the 92nd were ordered to charge. The movement was executed with astonishing celerity; the shock was irresistible, and the Danes, unused perhaps to such personality, fled in all directions: numbers, however, remained lifeless on the battlefield, and many more were taken prisoners, and consigned to the British fleet. As this was the first action of any importance in which 35I had been closely engaged, it put my firmness to the test. The regiment in which I served was placed on the right of the British line. The first thing that startled me was the forceful rebound of a cannon-ball that struck the ground within a few paces of the place where I stood; it scattered the earth with violence, but fortunately did no injury, and the impression of danger was soon erased by the heavy and rapid trampling of a cavalry charge made in our favour, and which laid many a brave fellow low. Of those who escaped from the destructive sweep, several sought refuge in a churchyard, where a large body were overtaken and captured. I recollect meeting with an exhausted Dane, concealed in the side of a ditch: the interview seemed particularly disagreeable to him, and was quite unexpected by myself. I soon put an end to all explanations by conducting him to headquarters. But after the battle had ceased, and my spirits became composed, I was subdued beyond all I ever felt before. This emotion was produced by leisurely traversing the scene of action on the following day. There lay the dead, just as they had fallen. They were said to be enemies, but I felt that they and myself were partakers of one common nature. I saw several Danish women moving with terror among the slain, anxious to discover and yet afraid to ascertain who pressed the field. The day before I was among the foremost of those fearless spirits who dealt out wounds and carnage, careless of danger and destitute of fear. But when the soul is allowed quietly to look within; when the hurricane of wrath has spent its fierceness, and nothing remains, save the desolation it has produced,—views and sensations are strangely transposed. My compassionate musings were, however, exceedingly brief.