ce keep the pelting of the weather from that loved head!"
[Cogniazzo, _Gestandnisse eines OEsterreichischen Veterans, _ii. 251.]
There is a picture for you, in the heights of Lichtenhayn, as you steam
past Schandau, in contemplative mood; and perhaps think of "Justice to
Ireland!" among other sad thoughts that rise.

From Thurmsdorf to the Pontoon-Bridge there was a kind of road; down
which the Saxons scrambled yesterday; and, by painful degrees, got
wriggled across. But, on the other shore, forward to the Hamlets of
Halbstadt and Ebenheit, there is nothing but a steep slippery footpath:
figure what a problem for the 14,000 in such weather! Then at
Ebenheit, close behind, Browne-wards, were Browne now there, rises the
Lilienstein, abrupt rocky mountain, its slopes on both hands washed
by the River (River making its first elbow here, closely girdling this
Lilienstein): on both these slopes are Prussian batteries, each with its
abatis; needing to be stormed:--that will be your first operation.
Abatis and slopes of the Lilienstein once stormed, you fall into a
valley or hollow, raked again by Prussian batteries; and will have to
mount, still storming, out of the valley, sky-high across the Ziegenruck
(GOAT'S-BACK) ridge: that is your second preliminary operation. After
which you come upon the work itself; namely, the Prussian redoubts at
Lichtenhayn, and 12,000 men on them by this time! A modern Tourist says,
reminding or informing:

"From the Konigstein to Pirna, Elbe, if serpentine, is like a serpent
rushing at full speed. Just past the Konigstein, the Elbe, from
westward, as its general course is, turns suddenly to northward; runs so
for a mile and a half; then, just before getting to the BASTEI at
Raden, turns suddenly to westward again, and so continues. Tourists
know Raden,"--where the Prussians have just fished out a Bridge for
themselves,--"with the BASTEI high aloft to west of it. The Old Inn,
hospitable though sleepless, stands pleasantly upon the River-brink,
overhung by high cliffs: close on its left side, or in the intricacies
to rear of it, are huts and houses, sprinkled about, as if burrowed in
the sandstone; more comfortably than you could expect. The site is a
narrow dell, narrow chasm, with labyrinthic chasms branching off from
it; narrow and gloomy as seen from the River, but opening out even into
cornfields as you advance inwards: work of a small Brook, which is still
industriously tinkling and gushing