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After an interval of terror and suspense, an Aid-deCamp of the Duke of Wellington's arrived, who had left the army at four o'clock-and this was found to be a false alarm, It had been spread by those dastardly Belgians whom we had seen scampering through the town, and who had, it is supposed, met with some straggling party of the enemy. It was also said, that a foraging party of French had come bravadoing to the gates of the city, summoning it to surrender. A considerable number of French, indeed, entered the town soon after; but they were French prisoners. The Aid-de-Camp of the Duke brought the welcome information, that the British army, though attacked by such a tremendous superiority of numbers, and under every possible disadvantage, had completely repulsed the enemy, and remained masters of the field of battle. The cavalry, or at least a considerable part of them, had come up towards the end of the action. Our infantry had sustained, during the whole of the day, the attack of the enemy's cavalry as well as infantry.

The Duke expected that the engagement would be renewed this morning; but the army was now collected, and joined both by the cavalry and artillery, and a more decisive engagement might be expected. The French had sustained a great loss in killed, wounded, and prisoners.* The defeat which the Prussiaus had sustained could not, however, be concealed, and the Belgians were filled with consternation and dismay. The corpse of the Duke of Brunswick had passed

* The French themselves acknowledged their loss was nearly equal to ours; heavy as ours was, theirs was much more severe.

through Brussels during the night, and his fate seemed to be much lamented, and to make a great impression upon the people. Waggons filled with the wounded began to arrive, and the melancholy spectacle of these poor sufferers increased the general despondency. The streets were filled with the most pitiable sights. I saw a Belgic soldier dying at the door of his own home, and surrounded by his relatives, who were lamenting over him. Numerous were the sorrowful groups standing round the dead bodies of those who had died of their wounds in the way home. Numbers of wounded who were able to walk, were wandering upon every road; their blood-stained clothes and pale haggard countenances looking most dreadful, and perhaps giving the idea of sufferings greater than the reality.

It is well known that on the forenoon of this day, (Saturday), the Duke of Wellington fell back about seven miles, upon Waterloo, in order to take up a position more favourable for the cavalry, and from which he could keep up the communication with Marshal Blucher, who had retreated upon Wavre.

Never was there a more masterly or more succèssful manœuvre. By superior generalship, every plan of the Enemy was baffled; although constantly on the watch, he never had it in his power to attack our retreating army to the smallest advantage. The confession escaped from Napoleon himself, that it was on his part "a day of false manœuvres." In the mean time it is impossible to describe the panic that the news of this retreat spread at Brussels. Nobody could convince the Belgians that a retreat and a

flight were not one and the same thing; and, firmly convinced that the English had been defeated, they fully expected every moment to see them enter Brussels in the utmost confusion, with the French after them even the English themselves, who had the most unbounded confidence in the British army and its commanders, and who were certain that if they retreated it would be with good order, steady discipline, and undaunted courage, began to fear that the immense superiority of the enemy had made the Duke judge it prudent to fall back until joined by fresh: reinforcements.

There is a mistaken idea in this country, that the French, even Napoleon Buonaparte, himself was popular in Belgium. This was a moment when Hypocrisy itself would have found it impossible to dissemble; and the dismay which reigned upon every face, and the terror which filled every town and village, when it was believed that the French were victorious-the execrations with which their very names were uttered-the curses, not loud but deep, which fear half repressed, betrayed how rooted and sincere was their hatred of the tyranny from which they had so recently escaped. There may be miscreants of all ranks in Belgium, as in other countries, whom the hope of plunder and the temptations of ambition will bring over to any party, where these can be obtained; but by the great body of the nation, from the highest to the lowest, the French government is abhorred, and Napoleon himself is regarded with a detestation, the strength of which we can form no idea of in this country. Their very infants are taught to lisp these sentiments, and to regard him as a monster.

It would be endless to dwell upon every fresh panic. An open town like Brussels, within a few miles of contending armies, is subject to perpetualalarms, and scarcely an hour passed without some false reports occurring to spread general terror and confusion. Every hour only served to add to the dismay. So great was the alarm in Brussels on Saturday evening, that 100 Napoleons were offered in vain for a pair of horses to go to Antwerp, a distance of 30 miles; and numbers set off on foot, and embarked in boats upon the canal. In the afternoon, a violent thunder-storm came on, followed by torrents of rain, which during the whole of the night, when the army were laying unsheltered upon the field of Waterloo, never ceased a single moment. On Sunday the terror and confusion reached its highest point. News arrived of the French having gained a complete victory, and it was universally believed. A dreadful panic had seized the men left in charge of the baggage, in the rear of the army, and they ran away with a rapidity that could not have been surpassed even by the French themselves. The road between Waterloo and Brussels, which lays through the Forest of Soigné, is completely confined on either side by trees; it was soon choaked up; those behind attempted to get past those before officers servants were struggling to secure their masters' baggage-panic-struck people forcing their way over every obstacle, with the desperation of fear,-and a complete scuffle ensued which might really be called a battle burlesqued, in which numbers of horses were killed, and some lives lost, not mentioning broken heads and black bruises conferred on the occasion.

The road was covered with broken and overturned waggons-heaps of abandoned baggage-dead horses, and terrified people. In some places, horses, waggons, and all, were driven over high banks by the road side, in order to clear a passage. The quantity of rain that had fallen, of itself made the roads nearly impassable, and it was impossible for the wounded to be brought from the field. Certainly these Waterloo Men who came flying into Brussels on Sunday, did not cut a very glorious figure!

At Antwerp, though more distant from the scene of action, the consternation was nearly as great. Long rows of carriages lined the streets, filled with fugitives, who could find no place of shelter; and people of rank and fortune were glad to eat and sleep in one and the same miserable hole, which at any other time they would have disdained to have entered. So great was the universal anxiety, that during the whole of Sunday, though the rain was almost incessant, the great Place de Maire was crowded with people, who stood from morning until night, under umbrellas, impatiently watching the arrival of news from the army, and assailing every body who entered the town with fruitless inquiries.

Our persons indeed, and our outward senses might be in Antwerp or Brussels, but our whole hearts and souls were with the army. One common interest bound together all ranks and conditions of men. All other subjects all other considerations were forgotten-all distinctions were levelled-all common forms thrown aside and neglected. Ladies accosted

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