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the embrasures, and took some colours; but where they reached the front of the breast-work, were mowed down by the battery on the flank. A dreadful carnage took place among all the troops in this concerted attack: Spaar lay dead uроп the field; Hamilton was carried off wounded and the lines, beginning to waver, recoiled a few paces. Calling up fresh spirit to recover from this repulse, the heroic Prince of Orange mounted another horse, that was also shot under him; still his energy remained unshaken: on foot he rallied the nearest troops, and seizing a standard from the regiment of Mey, marched almost alone to the entrenchment. He planted the colours upon the bank, and called aloud, "Follow me my friends, here is your post!" His gallant troops followed their leader. Again the onset was renewed, but it was no longer possible to force the enemy; for the second line had closed up, and the whole breast-work bristled with bayonets, and blazed with fire. Although again repulsed, the Prince of Orange would not be dissuaded from returning once more to the charge; and at length actually carried the seeminingly impregnable entrenchment.
FINIS.
