tance of the British. He incessantly took snuff in large pinches from his waistcoat pocket, violently snuffing up half, and throwing the rest from him with a strong extension of the arm. "These English are devils," said he, "will they never be beaten?" A moment afterwards he added, "I shall beat them yet, but it is a pity to destroy such brave troops." He then turned to Soult. "How well these English fight! but they must soon give way; don't you think so?" Soult, who had some experience of British courage and firmness, replied, that “he doubted whether they would ever give way." "Why?" quickly and somewhat indignantly asked Napoleon. "They will suffer themselves to be cut to pieces first," was the answer which terminated the conversation.

The frequency and impetuousness of his attacks were now redoubled, and he began to expose himself to the thickest of the fire. Although no credit is to be given to the accounts of desperation with which he sought every dan ger, and his apparently firm determination to die on the field, yet he evinced much personal courage, and was always collected, and in full possession of the great resources of his mind. Seeing poor Decoster, the guide, frequently

flinch at the shower of shot that fell around them, he said, "Do not stir, my friend; a ball will kill you equally in the back as the front, and wound you more disgracefully.'

The French author of the "Battle of Mont St. Jean," says, that "Buonaparte now contemplated with a look of ferocity the hideous spectacle of so frightful a butchery. The more the obstacles to his success multiplied, the more obstinate he became. He was indignant at thes unforeseen difficulties, and far from hesitating to expose and to annihilate an army whose confidence in him knew no bounds, he ceased not to send forward fresh troops, and to order them to charge with the bayonet, and to carry every thing before them. He was often told that at various points the affair was against him, and that his troops began to wa+ ver, "Forward! forward!' was his only reply."

A general sent to inform him that he found himself in a position which he could not maintain, owing to the dreadful fire of a battery, and to ask what he should do. "Let him carry the battery," was the reply, and Napoleón abruptly turned his back on the aide-de-camp.

An officer now approached with the intelligence that the Prussians were advancing in the

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rear of his right wing. Buonaparte was, or pretended to be, incredulous. He furiously dismissed the officer, and affirmed that it was the corps of Grouchy, and that his success was now certain and complete..

Another messenger rapidly followed, and confirmed the intelligence of the former officer. Napoleon would not yet believe, or professed not to believe, the possibility of the fact; but when he heard the firing of the Prussian light troops, and saw some of their battalions debouching from the woods, he suddenly turned pale, but said not a word.

No blame can be attributed to General Bulow that the Prussians were so long in coming up. They had to cross the narrow bridge over the Dyle at Wavre; and to add to the delay which this caused, the houses in the street leading to the bridge had been set on fire by the French. The infantry passed with difficulty, the cavalry and artillery with greater, and the ammunition was compelled to wait till the fire was completely extinguished. When they were arrived at St. Lambert, the defiles and the badness of the roads, occasioned a further and unexpected delay, and it was with the utmost exertion that they reached the scene of action before the fate of

the day was decided. As soon as two brigades were arrived Bulow commenced the attack.

By referring to the plan the reader will see how well selected was the spot at which the Prussians issued from the woods. It was proposed to advance above Frischemont; but the peasant who guided them objected to this, and proposed to descend lower down the vale, and penetrate nearer Planchenoit, and more in the rear of the French reserves.

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"Then," said he, we shall take them all.' The moment at which they arrived was most critical; and one shudders to think that this important affair depended on the knowledge and fidelity of a single peasant. Had he guided them wrong, had he led them into a neighbouring hollow way impassable to cannon,-or had Bulow's army come up one hour later, the British would have been compelled to retire.

For awhile Napoleon mused in silence. He felt the critical situation in which he was now placed, and not believing that the main body of the Prussians could come up for some hours, he hoped that success was yet in his power. He determined to attack the weakest part of the British line with his whole concentrated force, and thus endeavour to beat the duke before his

reinforcements could arrive. Leaving, therefore, the sixth corps to keep the Prussians in check, he brought forward the whole of the cavalry of his guard, and directed it (on the centre of the British position. The shock was irresistible. The allied troops gave way; the heights were carried, and several of the guns were in the power of the French. But the Duke of Wellington was on the spot, and all was soon repaired. He placed himself at the head of some English and Brunswickers. He addressed to them a few sentences, with which he well knew how to inflame their ardour, and led them against the enemy, who, flushed with success, were proudly advancing to the very rear of his lines. In a moment the victory was rescued from their grasp. The artillery which they had taken was abandoned in haste, and they fled with precipitation.

In this period of the engagement the Prince of Orange received a musket-ball in his arm, which lodged in the shoulder, as he was rallying some of his troops who had shrunk from the impetuous attack of the French. In a previous stage of the combat he had been hurried away by the ardour of the fight, and made prisoner; but a battalion of his troops rushing to his assistance, immediately effected his rescue.