unboats, was never suspected. Yet exactly this was
Wellington's plan; and his bridge across the Adour is declared by
Napier to be a stupendous undertaking, which must always rank amongst
"the prodigies of war." Forty large sailing-boats, of about twenty
tons burden each, carrying the materials for the bridge, were to enter
the mouth of the Adour at the moment when Hope, with part of Hill's
division, made his appearance on the left bank of the river, with
materials for rafts, by means of which sufficient troops could be
thrown across the Adour to capture a battery which commanded its
entrance.

On the night of February 22, Hope, with the first division, was in the
assigned position on the banks of the Adour, hidden behind some
sandhills. But a furious gale made the bar impassable, and not a boat
was in sight. Hope, the most daring of men, never hesitated; he would
cross the river without the aid of the fleet. His guns were suddenly
uncovered, the tiny French flotilla was sunk or scattered, and a
pontoon or raft, carrying sixty men of the Guards, pushed out from the
British bank. A strong French picket held the other shore; but,
bewildered and ill led, they made no opposition. A hawser was dragged
across the stream, and pontoons, each carrying fifteen men, were in
quick succession pulled across. When about a thousand men had in this
way reached the French bank, some French battalions made their
appearance. Colonel Stopford, who was in command, allowed the French
to come on--their drums beating the _pas de charge_, and their officers
waving their swords--to within a distance of twenty yards, and then
opened upon them with his rocket brigade. The fiery flight and
terrifying sound of these missiles put the French to instant rout. All
night the British continued to cross, and on the morning of the 24th
the flotilla was off the bar, the boats of the men-of-war leading.

The first boat that plunged into the tumult of breakers, leaping and
roaring over the bar, sank instantly. The second shot through and was
safe; but the tide was running out furiously, and no boat could follow
till it was high water again. When high water came, the troops
crowding the sandbanks watched with breathless interest the fight of
the boats to enter. They hung and swayed like a flock of gigantic
sea-birds on the rough and tumbling sea. Lieutenant Bloye of the
_Lyra_, who led the way in his barge, dashed into the broad zone of
foam, and