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It has been justly observed by a contemporary historian, that “wherever danger was most imminent, there the Duke of Wellington was uniformly present;" charges that required unusual desperation were led on by himself; and no sooner did he perceive any of his squares begin to faulter, than be placed himself in the midst of them, and there awaited the enemy's attack.

"If such a trait," says Mr. Whitbread, "were recorded in history, as having occurred ten centuries ago, with what emotions of admiration and generous enthusiasm would it be read! To see a commander, of his eminence, throw himself into a hollow square of infantry as a secure refuge, till the rage and torrent of the attack was past; and that not once only, but twice or thrice in the course of the battle, proved that his confidence was placed not in any one particular corps, but in the whole British army. In that mutual confidence lay the power and strength of the troops. The Duke of Wellington knew he was safe when he thus trusted himself to the fidelity and valour of his men; and they knew and felt that the sacred charge thus confided to them, could never be wrested from their hands."

"It was piercingly cold. Some of the dying yet breathed. The immense heaps of dead bodies, and the black cavities which the blood nad made in the snow, formed a dreadful contrast. The officers of the staff were deeply affected. The emperor alone contemplated this horrible scene without emotion. I pushed my horse some paces before his, as I felt anxious to observe him in a situation so interesting. You would have thought that he was devoid of all human affections. Not one transient glance of pity beamed from his cold and impenetrable countenance. He spoke of the events of the preceding evening with the utmost indifference. As he passed before a group of Russian grenadiers, who had fallen together in defending the position assigned to them, the horse of one of his aides-de-camp started. The emperor perceived it, and coolly remarked, 'That horse is a coward?"

The following anecdote of his lordship's discipline is related by a Scotch gentleman, to whom the public are indebted for a work replete with interest:

Seeing some Highland soldiers lying asleep at Peronne, in the open air at midnight, our author asked one of them if it were not usual to receive billets on the inhabitants for quarters? Na, sir,' he replied,' we seldom trouble them for billets. They ca' this bivouacking, you see.' 'It does not seem very agreeable, whatever they may call it.-How do the inhabitants of the country treat you?' Ow! gailies; particularly we that are Scotch: we ha' but to show our petticoat, as the English ca' it,-an' we're ay weel respected.' Were you in the battle of Waterloo?' 'Aye, 'deed was I, and in Quatre Bras beside. I got a skelp wi' a bit o' a shell at Waterloo.' And were all your comrades who are asleep also wounded?'-' Aye ware they,-some mare, some less.' Here's ane o' 'em

While the veteran Blucher was engaged in the pursuit of the French, after the decisive victory of Mont St. Jean, the Duke of Wellington slowly led his army over the field of battle. The terrific noise which had so recently burst on the ear was heard no more; all was hushed, save when the groans of the wounded, or the shrieks of the dying interrupted the silence of the night. The moon, rising in peerless majesty, shed a pale and mournful light on the affecting scene. When the duke contemplated the piles of lifeless bodies which lay on every side, and thought, how many brave fellows had been sacrificed on this eventful day, and how many hearts even the news of his vic-wakening, wi' our speeking.' tory would sadden, the sternness of the soldier was forgotten in the feelings of the man, and he burst into a flood of tears.

A robust soldier rose slowly from his hard restingplace, shrugging his shoulders, and stretching his joints, as if his bones ached. He said not a word on seeing a stranger, but deliberately placed himself by the side of the first speaker. "I continued the conversation (says the narrator) for some time, and heard with interest the particulars of the death of a brave officer, for whose fate I had been much concern

"How different," says an interesting writer, "were the feelings which his opponent displayed on similar occasions! When a body of recruits joined the French army, the usual expression of Buonaparte was, 'Ah! there is more food for the cannon.' As he rode over the scene of contention, after one of his most sangui-ed, in consequence of knowing his closest connexions. nary victories, while the dead and the dying were trampled on at every step, he betrayed not a single emotion of pity, but, turning to one of his officers, he said, with a smile, My faith! there is a fine consumption!" "

His visit to the field of battle after the victory of Prussian Eylau, is thus described by his confidential valet:

This lamented person belonged to the regiment in which these men were privates;-they said he was the first who fell in their ranks on the 16th,-and, by two or three homely expressions, convinced me how highly he had been esteemed."

The Scotchmen, having but little incitement to return to their hard couch, became inclined to talk, particularly when they learned what part of Scotland our

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MARSHAL BLUCHER.

of the hand from the illustrious hero, six bottles of rum, | On the approach of the French, this man pretended to and a warm invitation to come and see him in England; be slain, and the enemy actually galloped on each side a visit which the honest tar was too modest and unas- of the dead horse, covering the veteran. He then suming to pay. The duke's deliverer has now retired used every exertion to extricate the general in vain, from a sea-faring life, and settled in Rotherhithe. His when he saw the French cuirassiers returning at full friends banter him with the appellation of "the Saviour gallop, repulsed in their turn, and flying from the purof Europe," which he takes in good part; but he never suing Prussians. He again pretended to be dead, boasts of his achievement; indeed it is very rare that lying prostrate, with his arms extended, and, when he he can be induced to tell his own story, and, when it thought the French had passed, he rose up to call the is wrung from him, it is adorned with all the graces of Prussians: "Here," said he, "is your commander: he truth and modesty. is not dead, he is safe!" A general acclamation immediately resounded on every side, and it was truly affecting to see the gallant hero embracing the serjeant, The Prussian troops under the command of this gal- who was willing to share his fate, whom he immediately lant veteran, who are inexpressibly attached to him, presented with his belt, and advanced him in the army. seldom call him by any other name than Marshal For-"It was the loss of our commander," said one of the wards :-a more flattering tribute cannot be paid to a victorious general than in such a surname given to him by his brave soldiers. In the battle of Leipsig, it was proposed to the marshal to fire grenades into the city; sut he rejected the advice with disdain. "We have but one Leipsig," said he: "its inhabitants are welldisposed towards us and the good cause; why, then, should we utterly destroy their city? We will take it, but without the assistance of grenades." On several subsequent occasions he has declared, that it was one of the most pleasing moments of his life to see the troops carrying Leipsig by assault, without shewing the smallest inclination to plunder. When his Prussian majesty promoted him to the rank of field-marshal, he accompanied the appointment with the following letter:

"By your repeated victories, you increase your claims upon the state so fast, that I am unable to keep pace with the proofs of my gratitude. Accept a fresh token of it on the appointment of General Field-marshal; and may you very long enjoy that honour, to the gratification of your country, and as a model to that army which you have so often led to victory and glory. "FREDERICK WILLIAM.

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Leipsig, Oct. 20, 1813. "To the general of cavalry, Von Blucher."

In the battle of Ligny, the Prussian cavalry, led on by the heroic Blucher, attacked the French cuirassiers, and were repulsed. In the retreat, the marshal's horse, which was presented to him by the Prince Regent when in England, received a mortal wound. He galloped some distance with wonderful speed, and then fell lifeless on the field. A serjeant, of the name of Friedland, seeing the fall of his commander, resolved to participate his fate, and dismounted to die by his side.

by-standers, "that inspired us with new courage, and made us repulse the cavalry of the enemy; and we were resolved to have gone forward in search of our beloved prince, and would have penetrated even to the spot where Buonaparte was stationed, or have perished in the attempt."

In passing through Belgium, in his way to the Prussian dominions, the marshal desired to see again the spot on which he was exposed to this imminent danger. After remaining there some time conversing with his aide-de-camp, he generously recompensed a miller who had assisted him in his critical situation. The grateful miller immediately addressed the following note to the editor of the Brussels Oracle:-" Prince Blucher, on his return, called at my house with his aides-de-camp; his modesty concealed his illustrious name, and I did not recollect him. He asked me several questions respecting my losses, and my present situation. Alas! it was easy for me to reply that I had saved nothing, either in my house, or on the lands which I farm, and that the war had reduced my family to such distress that I could not pay my contributions. He asked me the amount of these contributions, and, on my replying eighty francs, he immediately put them into my hand. He then departed, and, when he got to Namur, he sent me four pieces of forty francs each, and one of twenty francs. It was from this messenger, that I learnt the name of my benefactor; his generosity honours him; his modesty ennobles him; and my heart blesses him."

GENERAL MAITLAND.

This brave officer, with the first regiment of guards, was ordered by Lord Wellington to drive the French from a strong position in a wood, which they occupied in very considerable force. The general, instead of

attacking them in the regular way, ordered his men to advance rapidly, huzzaing with their caps in their hands. The enemy, not conceiving what this could mean, appeared to be panic-struck, and actually quitted the position without coming to an engagement. The gallantry of this ruse de guerre is equally honourable to the officer by whom it was planned, and the gallant troops by whom it was executed.

A HIGHLAND MAJOR.

. In the battle of the 16th, a major of the forty-second Highland regiment choosing to fight on foot, in front of his troops, had given his horse into the care of a little drummer-boy. After an obstinate conflict with the French lancers and cuirassiers, and, after being repeatedly wounded, he fell from loss of blood near a private named Donald M'Intosh, who received a mortal wound at the same time. The drummer-lad had quitted the horse to assist Donald, and a French lancer immediately made a dash at the animal as a fair prize. The dying Highlander perceiving this movement, exclaimed, in his national brogue, "Hoot mon, ye manna tak that beast: it belangs to our captain here." The lancer, however, seized the reins, 'upon which Donald .oaded his musket, and shot him dead,-and then fell back and expired.

you; I must be off:-the devils (the French lancers) are at us again, and I must oppose them in person. He did so, and soon received a wound, which stretched him lifeless on the bed of honour.

The reader will be gratified to learn that the gallant major recovered, and is still alive, bearing the marks of sixteen severe wounds received in this memorable battle, besides a serious wound previously received at the siege of Badajoz.

COLONEL HALKET.

One of the French generals was giving his orders to a numerous body of troops; and had come to their front unattended. Colonel Halket, perceiving this circumstance, made a dash at him at full gallop; and, holding a pistol to his breast, seized the reins of his horse, and brought him off from the very beards of his astonished soldiers!

LORD UXBRIDGE.

When the British army was retreating on the 17th, to keep up its correspondence with the Prussians under Marshal Blucher, that had been worsted by Buonaparte, Lord Uxbridge (now Marquis of Anglesea) was in the rear of the last troop of cavalry; when, looking An officer of the cuirassiers, at this time, rode up to behind him, he saw a French corps formed across the the major, and, on perceiving him to be alive, stooped road to charge. He immediately turned round, and from his horse to despatch him with his sabre: the galloped back towards the enemy, waving his hat to major, however, resolutely seized him by the leg, and his troops who had advanced some way on their reafter a short struggle, dragged him from the saddle. treat, and were at a considerable distance from him. Another lancer now galloped up, and endeavoured to Major Kelly, of the horse-guards, was the first person relieve his officer by spearing the major. The latter, who joined his lordship, and these two heroes remained however, by a sudden jerk, placed the Frenchman ex-alone for about a minute in front of the French, who actly before him, so that he received the fatal thrust below his cuirass, and in this state remained lying upon his enemy, for nearly ten minutes, with his sabre in his hand. At length he raised himself with difficulty, staggered a few paces, and then dropped dead on the field.

seemed overwhelmed with astonishment at the gallantry which they witnessed. The regiment soon came up, and dashed amongst the enemy, who were completely overthrown. It is said that his lordship was at one time so near Buonaparte, that he would have taken him prisoner, had not a cannon-ball taken off his leg at that instant.

A private of the forty-second regiment now came up, and asked his major what assistance he could ren- After his return to England, his lordship travelled der him. "None," he replied, "but that of loading from his seat at Beaudesert, in Staffordshire, to Bradyour piece and despatching me." "But," said the pri- ford, in Yorkshire, in one day, to make the preparatory vate, "your eye seems lively, and, if you could be re-arrangements for being supplied with an artificial leg, moved to the ninety-second, who are fighting at a short the ingenious invention of Mr. Mann, of that place. distance, I think you might yet recover." This pro- The noble warrior was received with every mark of joy posal was agreed to, and the major was carried to the by many of the most respectable inhabitants, and went ninety-second, where his intimate friend, Colonel Ca- through the Piece Hall, conversing familiarly with the meron, immediately ordered him every assistance. manufacturers. He afterwards invited Colonel KutuWhile the men were placing him in a blanket, to carry soff, a Russian officer, (under Mr. Mann's care at Bradhim to the rear, the colonel exclaimed, "God bless ford, having sustained a similar loss to his lordship,) to