Forward, therefore, climb the Alpine stairs again; snatch me that Fort of Exilles.
"And so, July 19th, 1747, the Chevalier comes in sight of the Place; scans a little the frowning buttresses, bristly with guns; the dumb Alps, to right and left, looking down on him and it.

Chevalier de Belleisle judges that, however difficult, it can and must be possible to French valor; and storms in upon it, huge and furious (20,000, or if needful 30,000);--but is torn into mere wreck, and hideous recoil; rallies, snatches a standard, 'We must take it or die,'-- and dies, does not take it; falls shot on the rampart, 'pulling at the palisades with his own hands,' nay some say 'with his teeth,' when the last moments came.

Within one hour, he has lost 4,000 men; and himself and his Brother's Enterprise lie ended there.

[Voltaire, xxv.

221 et seq.
(SIECLE DE LOUIS QUINZE, c.