But, to resume the thread of our narration.-A cólumn of two thousand men bore down on the position occupied by the ninety-second regiment, which, from the losses it had sustained on the 16th, and the galling fire to which it had now been exposed, was reduced to two hundred men. This little, but heroic, band shrunk not from the unequal contest. They did not even wait for the attack, but forming themselves into line, and presenting a narrow, but compact front, charged on the column with such impetuosity that they pierced the centre, when the Scotch Greys, profiting by the confusion, dashed in at the opening. The two regiments cheered each other, shouting, "Scotland for ever!" and the enemy were, to a man, either killed or taken prisoners. Buonaparte now changed the object of his attack, and, bringing up a formidable body of fresh troops, directed them to attack the farm of La Haye Sainte, This was a point of equal importance with the position of Hougoumont, or that of Ter La Haye. If the Corsican were successful here, he would break the British line, and cut off the retreat of Lord Wellington on the road to Brussels. Both parties felt the importance of this position, and made the utmost exertions, the one to carry, and the other to maintain it. As the respective battalions were weakened or destroyed, fresh reinforcements immediately occupied their places, and for upwards of an hour the conflict continued with very doubtful success. At length the ammunition of the allies was expended, and the French penetrated to the farm, and surrounded it. Yet, under these circumstances, the German Legion, which occupied it, continued to defend themselves with the bayonet; nor was the position carried until all its defenders were annihilated. Napoleon instantly. seized the advantage which he had now gained, and, pressing on with immense masses A column of French cavalry, with the cuirassiers at their head, now advanced to the relief of their infantry. The Scotch Greys, in the mean time, had been reinforced by a brigade of heavy dragoons, and the most dreadful engagement now took place. The impenetrable cuirasses of the French gave them a decided advantage over the English, who could only strike at the neck or limbs of their opponents. Nothing, how-of infantry and cavalry, attacked the centre, which ever, could resist the determined valour of the British, and, after a long and sanguinary conflict, the cuirassiers turned their horses and fled. The slaughter was then dreadful, but the British had strict orders not to pursue them beyond the lines, and the scattered remnant of the French sought refuge in the rear of their infantry. In this struggle, the forty-ninth and one hundred and fifth French regiments lost their eagles. At this period of the engagement Sir William Ponsonby led his brigade against the Polish lancers, and checked their destructive attacks on the British infantry. Never was a more timely, or a more successful, charge: but the impetuous valour of two of his regiments hurrying them too far in the pursuit, he galloped forward, attended by only one aide-de-camp, to restrain their rashness. He entered a newly-ploughed field where the ground was exceedingly soft, and, being badly mounted, his horse sunk in the mire, and was unable to extricate itself. At this instant a body of lancers approached him at full speed. Sir William saw that his fate was decided. He took out a picture and his watch, and was in the act of giving them to his aide-de-camp, to deliver to his wife and family, when the lancers came up, and killed them on the spot. His body was found lying by the side of his horse, pierced with seven wounds. Many of those whose temerity led to the destruction of their chief, perished here; but, before the day was ended, the Polish lancers were almost entirely cut to pieces by the brigade which this gallant officer had led against them. was now exposed. The first battalion that he encoun tered, overwhelmed by superior numbers, gave way and the Corsican, considering the victory secure, despatched a courier to Paris with the intelligence that the day was won. Had he now brought forward all his reserves of infantry, or waited until the British squares had been thrown into confusion, by the fire of his artillery, or the furious charges of his foot-soldiers, it might have been impossible even for the Duke of Wellington to have restored the fortune of the day. But, following up his advantages too hastily, and conceiving that the new levies of the duke could not resist the shock of his cavalry, he ordered them to advance and charge upon the centre of the allies. The lancers and cuirassiers rushed on at the head of the columns, and precipitated themselves on the British squares. A few battalions, who were slow or awkward in their evolutions, were instantly cut to pieces; but wherever the squares were formed, the enemy could make no impression. In vain the French cavalry, defended by their armour, walked their horses round the British squares, and dashed at the slightest opening; in vain, when they arrived within a short distance, a few of them rushed on, and would have sacrificed themselves, by receiving the fire of their opponents, while the main body waited to charge on the British before they could re-load their muskets, or fill up the chasms. The cool intrepidity of the allied infantry baffled all attempts to break them. *N Other squadrons of French cavalry penetrated between the squares, and charged on the position which the duke and his staff occupied. It was their evident object to signalize themselves by the death or capture of the British hero. His personal escort was obliged to be continually on the alert, and was frequently closely engaged with the enemy. The British cavalry now advanced and charged the cuirassiers, lancers, and chasseurs, who had penetrated the line, and the battle was contested man to man. Buonaparte was now convinced that he had committed a grand error; and the whole centre of his infantry was brought forward to assist, and, if possible, to disengage the cavalry. A close column of French accordingly pressed forward, overpowered all resistance, and marched on to attack the village of Mont St. Jean, in the rear of the British position. The Duke of Wellington was perfectly aware of the critical situation in which he was now placed, and, presenting himself wherever the danger was most imminent, led on in person several successive charges. When any of the squares appeared to waver, he threw himself into the midst of them, and, by a few words, re-animated and confirmed their courage. At length he succeeded in arresting the progress of the enemy, and wresting from them all the advantages they had gained. They were driven from the eminence which they had carried; the farm of La Haye was retaken, and the combatants again occupied the positions which they had held at the commencement of the affair, except that Buonaparte's troops continued to occupy a small mound on the left of the road from Brussels to Charleroi, and from which they could not be dislodged, till the grand advance of the British army at the close of the engagement. The duke now found it extremely difficult to restrain the impetuosity of his troops. Wherever he appeared, he was hailed with enthusiastic shouts, and his soldiers, tired of standing for so many hours exposed to a murderous fire, and their energies confined to merely driving back the squadrons which rushed upon them, eagerly demanded to be led against the foe. "Not yet, not yet, my brave fellows!" was the duke's reply. "Be firm a little longer; you shall have at them by and by." The attack on Hougoumont had recommenced, and continued during the day, but the French were unable to obtain even a momentary possession of it. Bringing forward, however, some strong bodies of infantry and cavalry, they made a circuit round the chateau, and advanced to the eminence by which it was commanded. Here, as in the centre, their cavalry boldly penetrated the squares, and, for a short time, appeared masters of the position; but the British dragoons coming up, an awful scene of confusion ensued. The artillery of the two armies was still opposed, and poured forth an incessant torrent of round and grape-shot. Suddenly the artillery would wheel round, and massive columns of infantry would advance, and either engage in a close fusillade, or make a destructive charge with the bayonet; while, in the rear of the allied infantry, the cavalry of the two armies maintained a gallant and doubtful combat. The thirtieth regiment sustained several charges of the cuirassiers. Defended by their breast-plates, they galloped up to the very bayonets of the infantry, hoping that some opening might be made through which they might penetrate; but, in no instance, did they succeed in making the least impression. The horsemen had no sooner passed than the regiment again deployed into line, that its fire might be more extended and effectual. They had scarcely completed the evolution, when the command was again given, “Reform square; prepare to receive cavalry." The whole were prostrate on their breasts, to let the iron shower of the artillery fly over, and erect in an instant, when the cannon ceased, and the cavalry charged. Unable to break in upon the square by open force, a commanding officer of cuirassiers tried a ruse de guerre; he lowered his sword to General Halket. Several of the officers called out, "Sir, they surrender."— "BE FIRM AND FIRE," was the promptly obeyed answer. The general justly suspected an offer of surrender to a body of infantry fixed to the spot in a defensive posi tion, by a body of cavalry, who had the option of galloping off with all the plain open behind them. The volley sent the colonel and his cuirassiors, as usual, about, with a laugh of derision from the men he had meant to cut to pieces; and many a ring from their balls, upon the back-pieces of the mails. This gallant brigade was honoured with several visits from the illustrious commander-in-chief. In one he inquired, "how they were?" The answer was, "that two-thirds of their number were down, and that the rest were so exhausted, that leave to retire, even for a short time, was most desirable; and some of the foreign corps, who had not suffered, to take their place. General Halket was told that the issue depended on the unflinching front of the British troops; and that even a change of place was hazardous in the extreme. He immediately replied with energy, “ Enough, my lord, we stand here till the last man falls.” 66 The first foot-guards were, for a short time, almost separated from the rest of the army, and surrounded by the French cavalry, who repeatedly charged on every side of the square at once. Their loss was coll sequently immense; but, though the soldiers rapidly fell, no chasm was for a moment left. The files were closed, and the square gradually diminished, nor would they have surrendered though cut off to the last man. At length the British cavalry advanced to their relief, while the intrepidity of the allies prevailed in all parts of the field, and the French were driven back to their former positions, with prodigious loss.. General De Lancy now fell as he was leading back to the charge a battalion of Hanoverians who had been thrown into confusion. He conceived that his wound was mortal, and, as the soldiers eagerly rushed forward to carry him to the rear, he desired them to leave him to his fate; adding, that they should not waste that time on him, which might be employed, in assisting many brave fellows who might be enabled again to fight their country's battles. An uninterrupted series of attacks now commenced through the whole line, but chiefly on the centre, some- They obeyed and retired; but the next morning he times with infantry, at other times with cavalry, and was found yet living, and his friends began to enteroccasionally with both united; while nearly three hun-tain hopes of his recovery. These hopes, however, dred pieces of artillery played on all parts of the British position. The carnage was truly awful; yet it would have been greater had not the earth been so completely soaked with rain. On this account the balls never bounded along as when the ground is dry. The shells also frequently buried themselves, and, when they exploded, produced no other effect than throwing upa fountain of mud. were fallacious, and he died in a few days, probably a martyr to his own disinterestedness. The person of the Duke of Wellington was repeatedly exposed to the greatest dangers. While he stood on the centre of the high road in front of Mont St. Jean, several guns were levelled against him, distinguished as he was by his suite, and the movements of the officers about him. The battle had now raged with unabated fury nearly The balls repeatedly grazed a tree on the right-hand six hours, and almost one-third of the allied troops of the road, which tree now bears his name. "That's were killed or wounded. The Prussians, so long ex-good practice," observed the duke to one of his suite, pected, did not yet arrive, and Lord Wellington began to fear that they had been defeated by the French corps which had been left to watch them. The duke's reserves were now all in action, while those of Buonaparte were not yet brought forward. The brave Scotch division was reduced from six thousand to less than two thousand men. The sixth division had been almost destroyed without firing a gun. The spirits of the soldiers began to droop, and it required the utmost exertion of the officers to prevent them from yielding to despair. They disdained the idea of retreating, and were eager to be led against the foe: but thus to stand and be murdered without resistance was more than they could bear. They were tired of having nothing to occupy their attention but the dreadful roar of the artillery, the fall of their companions, and the lamentable cries of the wounded. An indifference to life was rapidly spreading through their ranks, and the British commander was in a state of the most anxious suspense, convinced that, unless the Prussians arrived within another hour, the battle must be inevitably lost. Yet he was perfectly cool and collected; and, while one regiment continued firm at its post, he would not resign the contest. An aide-de-camp now came with the information that the fifth division was almost destroyed, and that it was impossible for them any longer to maintain their ground. "I cannot help it," he replied, "they must keep their ground with myself to the last man. Would to God! that night or Blucher were come." "I think they fire better than in Spain." Riding up to the ninety-fifth regiment, when in front of the line, and even then expecting a formidable charge of cavalry, he said, "Stand fast, ninety-fifth-we must not be beat-what will they say in England ?" On another occasion, when many of the best and bravest men had fallen, and the event of the action seemed doubtful even to those who remained, he said, with the coolness of a spectator, who was beholding some well-contested sport-" Never mind, we'll win this battle yet." To another regiment, then closely engaged, he used a common sporting expression; "Hard pounding this, gentlemen; let's see who will pound longest." Sir William Delancey, struck by a spent ball, fell from his horse-"Leave me to die," he said to those who came to assist him, "attend to the duke." Sir Alexander Gordon received his mortal wound, while expostulating with the commander-in-chief on the personal danger to which he was exposing himself. One of the duke's aides-de-camp was sent off to a general of brigade in another part of the field, with a message of importance. In returning, he was shot through the lungs; but, as if supported by the resolution to perform his duty, he rode up to the Duke of Wellington, delivered the answer to his message, and then dropped down dead, from his horse. Captain Curzon, of the 69th, the fourth son of Lord Scarsdale, an aide-de-camp to the duke, was sent with Lord March on a service of importance, when a grape |