ast nine
o'clock.

Nothing could be more orderly, nothing more perfect, than the
march of the troops. As we approached the corner of the commons-hall,
a skirmish on the rear apprised us that our intentions had become
known; and I soon learned from my aide-de-camp, Bob Moore,
that the attack was made by a strong column of the enemy, under
the command of old Fitzgerald.

Perpendicular (as your lordship is aware he is styled by the army)
came on in a determined manner, and before many minutes had
elapsed had taken several prisoners, among others Tom Drummond,--Long
Tom,--who, having fallen on all fours, was mistaken for a
long eighteen. The success, however, was but momentary; Nesbitt's
Brigade attacked them in flank, rescued the prisoners, extinguished
the dean's lantern, and having beaten back the heavy porters, took
Perpendicular himself prisoner.

An express from the left informed me that the attack upon the
provost's house had proved equally successful; there wasn't a whole
pane of glass in the front, and from a footman who deserted, it was
learned that Mrs. Hutchinson was in hysterics.

While I was reading this despatch, a strong feeling of the line
towards the right announced that something was taking place in that
direction. Bob Moore, who rode by on Drummond's back, hurriedly
informed me that Williams had put the lighted end of his cigar to
one of the fuses, but the powder, being wet, did not explode
notwithstanding his efforts to effect it. Upon this, I hastened to the
front, where I found the individual in question kneeling upon the
ground, and endeavoring, as far as punch would permit him, to kindle a
flame at the portfire. Before I could interfere, the spark had caught;
a loud, hissing noise followed; the different magazines successively
became ignited, and at length the fire reached the great four-pound
charge.

I cannot convey to your lordship, by any words of mine, an idea of
this terrible explosion; the blazing splinters were hurled into the
air, and fell in fiery masses on every side from the park to King
William; Ivey the bell-ringer, was precipitated from the scaffold
beside the bell, and fell headlong into the mud beneath; the
surrounding buildings trembled at the shock; the windows were
shattered, and in fact a scene of perfect devastation ensued