THE BATTLE OF LUNDY'S LANE. BY CALEB STARK. WRITTEN after a moonlight ramble on Drummond's Hill, U. C., the scene of that bloody action, fought July 25, 1814, where New Hampshire valor shone conspicuously. In other days yon fatal hill, Glittered with arms and waved with plumes, When the sad sunset on their steel, Flashed its last splendors; even's glooms Rang with the bugle's martial breath That called the brave to deeds of death. Then the dismal cry of slaughter Broke on midnight's slumbering hour; And the parched ground drank blood like water, Of musket and artillery, With motto calm yet bold, "I'LL TRY," The bristling ranks move on, Mid deafening thunder, sulphurous flash, There deeds of deathless praise proclaim, And dauntless Miller and McNeil The flower of northern chivalry; While Scott from British brows then tore But these terrific scenes are past; The peasants' slumbers, the wild blast Alone shall break them, And those proud bannered hosts are gone, Time in his flight has swept away, Save that the traveller views around, the grass-grown mound That shrines a hero's ashes! Peace to the brave! around their stone As an appropriate pendant, the following graphic description of the battle, and of the noble conduct of the twentyfirst (New-Hampshire) regiment, under Ripley, Miller, and M'Neil, as detailed by an eye-witness, is inserted. "The fight raged some time with great fury, but, it became apparent, uselessly to the Americans, if the enemy retained possession of the battery, manifestly the key of their position. I was standing at the side of Colonel Miller," said the Major, "when General Ripley rode up and inquired whether he could storm the battery with his regiment, while he supported him with the younger regiment, the twentythird. Miller, amid the uproar and confusion, deliberately surveyed the position, then quietly turning with infinite coolness, replied, 'I'll try, Sir.' I think I see him now," said the Major, "as drawing up his gigantic figure to its full height he turned to his regiment, drilled to the precision of a piece of mechanism. I hear his deep tones I hear his deep tones-Twentyfirst, attention! Form into column. You will advance up the hill to the storm of the battery. At the word 'Halt!' you will deliver your fire at the portlights of the artillerymen, and immediately carry the guns at the point of the bayonet. Support arms, forward, march!' Machinery could not have moved with more compactness than the gallant regiment followed the fearless strides of their leader. Supported by the twenty-third, the dark mass moved up the hill like one body, the lurid light glittering and flickering on their bayonets, as the combined fire of the enemy's artillery and infantry opened murderously upon them. They flinched they faltered not -the stern deep voices of the officers, as the deadly cannon-shot cut yawning chasms through them, alone were heard: 'Close up-steady, men not BATTLE OF LUNDY'S LANE. 349 steady.' Within a hundred yards of the summit, the loud 'Halt!' was followed by a volley- sharp, instantaneous as a clap of thunder. Another moment, rushing under the white smoke, a short furious struggle with the bayonet, and the artillery men were swept like chaff from their guns. Another fierce struggle the enemy's line was forced down the side of the hill, and the victory was ours-the position entirely in our hands-their own pieces turned and playing upon them in their retreat. It was bought at a cruel price — few of the officers remained that were not killed or wounded. The whole tide of the battle now turned to this point. The result of the conflict depended entirely upon the ability of the victorious party to retain it. Major Hindman was ordered up, and posted his force at the side of the captured cannon, while the American line correspondingly advanced. "Stung with mortification, the brave General Drummond concentrated his forces, to retake by a desperate charge the position. The interval amid the darkness was alone filled by the roar of the cataract, and the groans of the wounded. He advanced with strong reënforcements, outflanking each side of the American line. We were only able, in the murky darkness, to ascertain their approach by their heavy tread. 'They halted within twenty paces-poured in a rapid fire, and prepared for a rush.' Directed by the blaze, our men returned it with deadly effect, and after a desperate struggle, the dense column recoiled. Another interval of darkness and silence, and again a most furious and desperate charge was made by the British, throwing the whole weight of their attack upon the American centre. The gallant twenty-first which composed it, received them with undaunted firmness-while the fire from our lines was 'dreadfully effective.' Hindman's artillery served with the most perfect coolness and effect. Staggering, they again recoiled. During this second attack, Gen. Scott in person, his shattered brigade now consolidated into a single battalion, made two determined charges upon the right and left flank of the enemy, and in these he received the scars which his countrymen now see on his manly front. Our men were now almost worn down with fatigue, dying with thirst, for which they could gain no relief. The British, with fresh reënforcements - their men recruited and rested after an interval of another hour, made their third and final effort to regain the position. They advanced — delivered their fire as before and although it was returned with the same deadly effect, they steadily pressed forward. The twenty-first again sustained the shock, and both lines were soon engaged in a conflict, obstinate and dreadful beyond description.' The right and left of the American line fell back for a moment, but were immediately rallied by their officers. So desperate did the battle now become, that many battalions on both sides were forced back,' the men, engaged in indiscriminate melee, fought hand to hand, and with muskets clubbed; and 'so terrific was the conflict where the cannon were stationed, that Major Hindman had to engage them over his guns and gun carriages, and finally to spike two of his pieces, under the apprehension that they would fall into the hands of the enemy.' Gen. Ripley at length made a most desperate and determined charge upon both of the enemy's flanks; they wavered-recoiled-gave way and the centre soon following, they relinquished the fight, and made a final retreat. The annals of warfare on this Continent have never shown more desperate fighting. Bayonets were repeatedly crossed; and after the action many of the men were found mutually transfixed. The British force engaged was about five thousand men American thirty-five hundred: the combined loss in killed and wounded, seventeen hundred and twenty-two, officers and men. - the "The battle commenced at half past 4 o'clock in the afternoon, and did not terminate till midnight." THE CUSTOMS OF OUR FATHERS. FROM A SPEECH AT THE WILTON CENTENNIAL. BY ABIEL ABBOT, D.D. I LOOK around and ask, Where are the fathers? but nothing is seen but their precious remembrance in their sons. They were men whom I well remember, whom I have always held in high esteem and veneration. Their devout and venerable appearance in this holy temple, where they religiously and constantly worshipped, is now fresh in my memory. The impressions on my young mind at their piety and uprightness, and their friendly and heavenly deportment here, at home and every where, were a rich blessing to me, and rendered the memory of those venerable patriarchs most precious and lasting. I see here my sisters and their daughters, whom I hail and recognize as bearing the resemblance of our venerated mothers, of whom I ever think with the warmest affection and most respectful regard. They were worthy companions and helps-meet for our fathers. They were partners in all their toils, hardships and privations. They were patient, contented, and cheerful; and by their efforts alleviated the burdens of their husbands, and by their smiles encouraged them in their labors and trials. Their countenance and kind expressions are still fresh in my mind, though years have elapsed since they and their beloved companions went to their better home. They came to houses not finished, not painted, not ceiled, as we see them now; they had no parlor, no carpet, no curtains, no sofa; for some of these every-day conveniences they had no word in their vocabulary. But they were happy,-happi |