That night Nelson supped with his captains on board the "Seahorse," which was commanded by Captain Freemantle. Mrs. Freemantle, a newly-married wife, was on board, and presided at the supper. At eleven o'clock the boats put off for the attack. The night was very dark, and at first the boats were not seen by the Spanish garrison. They were almost on shore when the alarm was given, but the Spaniards were well prepared; in a moment fire from forty cannon, as well as from muskets in every part of the town, opened upon the English. Still the English pushed on, but in the black darkness many of the boats missed the mole where they were to land. The boat in which Nelson was, and a few others, found it, and landed in the midst of a terrible fire.

Just as Nelson was stepping out of the boat he was shot in the right elbow, and fell. But even as he fell he caught the sword which he had just drawn in his left hand, for he was determined never to part from it while he lived. Nisbet was behind him, and, lifting him up, placed him at the bottom of the boat. The blood was gushing from the wound, and Nisbet covered it with his hat, so that Nelson's faintness might not be increased by the sight of the blood. Then he looked at the wound, and with great presence of mind tied some silk handkerchiefs from his neck tightly above the wound to stop the flow of blood. One of the men in the boat tore his shirt to shreds to make a sling for the arm of his beloved commander. Then at last they got the boat afloat. Nisbet seized an oar himself, and ordered the men to row under the guns so as to be safe from the fire. Nelson begged to be lifted up, that he

might look about him. He could see nothing but the flashes of the guns in the thick darkness. Just then the air was filled with a terrible cry. The "Fox," an English cutter, with 180 men on board, had gone down. Nelson himself helped in trying to save the drowning men, without thinking for a moment of the new pain and danger to his wound caused by this exertion, and eighty-three were rescued from the water.

At last the boat reached the "Seahorse," but Nelson would not go on board. They said it would be a new risk to his life to try and reach another ship, but he answered, "I had rather suffer death than alarm Mrs. Freemantle by letting her see me in this state, when I can give her no tidings whatever of her husband." So they pushed on for the "Theseus," and reached it safely. When they got alongside, he would let no one help him on board; his one anxiety was that the boat should go back as quickly as possible to see if it could save any more of the drowning men from the "Fox." He asked to have a single rope thrown over the side for him, and twisted it round his left arm, saying, "Let me alone; I have yet my legs left and one arm. Tell the surgeon to make haste and get his instruments. I know I must lose my right arm, so the sooner it is off the better." He jumped up the ship's side with a spirit and a courage which amazed everybody, and soon after he was on board his arm was cut off. Meanwhile many brave men had been killed, but those who had landed came to honourable terms with the Spanish governor; each side gave up their prisoners, and the English were suffered to return safely to their ships.

Nelson was bitterly grieved both by the failure of the attack and by the loss of his arm. "I am become," he wrote, "a burden to my friends and useless to my country;" and again he wrote, "A left-handed admiral will never again be considered as useful; therefore, the sooner I get to a very humble cottage the better, and make room for a sounder man to serve the State."

When he reached England he was treated with great honour. But he had to go through three months of almost constant suffering from his arm. Lady Nelson, at his wish, learned to dress the wound herself; day and night the pain never ceased. One night after intense pain he had taken a dose of laudanum in the hopes of falling asleep. That night London was illuminated in honour of a victory gained at sea over the French. But no one had thought of putting lights in the windows of Nelson's lodgings in Bond Street. An indignant and furious mob attacked the door to ask why these windows were dark in the midst of the general joy. They were told that Admiral Nelson lay there badly wounded. At once the angry mob was hushed. The leader amongst them said respectfully, "You shall hear no more from us to-night." He kept his promise, and no one was suffered to make a noise round that house all through the confusion of the rejoicings.

At last the wound was healed, and Nelson sent to St. George's, Hanover Square, this form of thanksgiving, “An officer desires to return thanks to Almighty God for his perfect recovery from a severe wound, and also for the many mercies bestowed on him."

In a former engagement he had lost one of his eyes, but with one eye and one arm he was still to win glory for his country and undying fame for himself.

LI.

SIR JOHN MOORE AT CORUNNA.

A. D. 1808.

NAPOLEON Buonaparte aimed at nothing less than the conquest of the entire continent of Europe. When he had subdued Germany he turned to Spain, where he hoped to make his brother King. But the Spaniards in all parts of the country rose against the hated invaders, and sent messengers to England asking for help. The English gladly agreed to help them with men and money, and some English troops were sent to Portugal in 1808, under the command of Sir John Moore, to march from thence into Spain.

Unfortunately Sir John Moore found that he could not count upon the help of the Spaniards. Their generals made promises which they did not keep, and their Government thought of little but increasing its own importance. Instead of losing heart at all the difficulties he met with he determined to press on into Spain, that he might draw the attention of the French to him, and leave the Spaniards in the sort free to gather more strength before they were again atta

He knew that he was not strong enough to risk a battle with the French, and he made his preparations for retreating so soon as they should come near him.

It was in the middle of the winter that he began his march, in deep snow, through a country where it was almost impossible to find fuel. But his men were strong and brave, and bore their hardships without murmuring.

Things turned out just as Sir John Moore had thought. As soon as Napoleon heard of the advance of the English he himself left everything else, that he might lead an army of 50,000 men against them. With the greatest haste he urged on his men through the snow-covered mountains, amidst storms of hail and sleet so fierce that many soldiers and horses died of their sufferings.

But Moore turned back in time and placed the river Elsa between himself and the French. He took all his baggage and stores safely across, and then ordered the bridge over the river to be destroyed. In the midst of torrents of rain and snow half the troops worked painfully to blow up the bridge, which was very strong and well built, whilst the other half, posted on the high river bank, kept the enemy at bay, for the French cavalry were scouring the plain. It was nightfall before the work was done. Planks were then laid across the broken arches, and silently, in the darkness of the stormy night, the English troops crossed over the river, the waters of which were so swollen by the rain that it seemed every moment as if they would break over the planks.

After this, with the river between them and their enemies,