were tainted with the effluvia arising from them: besides these tremendous graves, of which several hundreds might be counted, immense heaps of the dead were burnt in different places, and their ashes, mingled with the dust, are scattered over the field.

In the background is a spot where the British bivouacked on the night of the 17th, beneath a heavy and incessant torrent of rain. On the morning of the 18th they were just preparing breakfast, and dressing their beef-steaks, when one of Lord Wellington's aides-de-camp riding up, called to them, "Stand to your arms; the French are advancing:" instantly breakfasts and beefsteaks were abandoned; wet, cold, and hungry, but bold and undaunted, our brave soldiers ranged themselves to face their foes, and during nearly twelve hours, without any other aid, maintained the unequal and the glorious contest. Let it never be forgotten, that the united British and Belgic army on that day amounted to little more than half the enemy.

It was the policy of the Duke of Wellington, when attacked by such a tremendous superiority of force, to act upon the defensive, until joined by the Prussians, whose progress had been impeded by the dreadful state of the roads. Just before they appeared, the enemy, turning their artillery against the centre of our army near the farm of La Haye Sainte, made a desperate effort with the united cavalry and artillery to force that point. Our gallant troops, unmoved, received the shock, and after a long and dreadful contest the French were compelled to retreat in confusion. At that moment, the Prussians were seen advancing up the heights, to charge the enemy in flank. The fire of the Prussian artillery began to take effect. Blücher himself appeared on the field. The Duke seizing the critical moment, ordered the whole body of infantry, supported by the cavalry and artillery,* to charge. They rushed impetuously forward with the irresistible

from every one but his servant: the wound had assumed a serious aspect for want of surgical assistance, having been only bandaged by himself and servant as well as circumstances would admit.-Editor.

"Towards the afternoon, when the 92d were reduced to scarce 200 men, a column of 2000 of the enemy bore down upon them, when this chosen band charged this overwhelming force with their bayonets, penetrating into the centre of them: the Scots Greys, cheering the brave Highlanders, rushed forward to support them, driving the enemy back with great loss." (Vide the letter of the 92d Regiment.)

At the battle of Quatre Bras, in a similar manner, the 71st repulsed the Imperial Guard, and when they were retreating, the piper suddenly struck up the pibroch; at the well-known sounds, the Highlanders charged their astonished enemies, still followed into the thickest of the fight by the piper, who was hurried forward by the impulse of valour, and the French were almost to a man cut to pieces.

The fire of the artillery had been terrible and destructive all day, but at this moment no idea can be conveyed of the shock and crash that was now felt from it. (Extract from a French officer's letter, who was in the battle.)—Editor.

force of valour. The French gave way on every side; a total rout ensued. They fled in confusion back to their own country, leaving behind them the whole of their baggage, their artillery, their prisoners, and their wounded. It was then, at half-past nine in the evening, that Marshal Blücher* and Lord Wellington accidentally met at La Belle Alliance. It was in this miserable cottage, pierced through and through with cannonballs, and deserted by all but the dead and dying, that their first interview took place, after four days of battle with the common enemy, and in the moment when victory had crowned their united arms. Both arinies being on the same road, they decided that the British troops, who had fought for nearly twelve hours,† should relinquish the pursuit to the Prussians, who had come in at the close of the contest, in time to decide the victory and to share its glory. They parted; Blücher proceeded on his way, Lord Wellington returned to Waterloo. As he crossed again this fatal scene, on which the silence of death had now succeeded to the storm of the battle, the moon, breaking from dark clouds, shed an uncertain light upon this wide field of carnage, covered with mangled thousands of that gallant army, whose heroic valour had won for him the brightest wreath of victory, and left to future times an imperishable monument of their country's fame. He saw himself surrounded by the bloody corpses of his veteran soldiers, who had followed him through distant lands—of his friends his associates in arms-his companions through many an eventful year of danger and of glory; in that awful pause which follows the mortal conflict of man with man, emotions unknown or stifled in the heat of battle forced their way,-the feelings of the man triumphed over those of the general, and in the very hour of victory Lord Wellington burst into tears.

*This gallant veteran, the moment he heard of the engagement, got up, mounted his horse, and led his troops to the field. He had been confined to his bed, in consequence of the injury he sustained on the 16th, when his horse was killed by a shot, and fell upon him. As he lay upon the ground, unable to extricate himself, and covered by his cloak, which fortunately prevented the enemy from recognising him, the French Cuirassiers twice charged close past him, and he was on the point of being trampled to death by an advancing squadron, when he was rescued by a regiment of Prussian Hulans. With some assistance, he instantly remounted another horse, and the first words this brave old officer spoke were: "Now then, my fine fellows, let us charge them again!" "The horse which the Prince Regent presented to Marshal Blücher, on which he placed so high a value, was killed under him during the late battle." Marshal Blücher seemed to have been possessed of the spirit of prophecy when he told the British officers after the review at New Grammont, "that he should soon have the pleasure of meeting them in Paris." Certainly this prediction was verified, even sooner than his most sanguine expectations could have anticipated.

At the close of the pursuit of the enemy, the Duke of Wellington, finding the troops so exhausted as to be unable to proceed, recommended it to them to give the flying enemy three British cheers before halting.-Editor.