three o'clock, a furious cannonading began!-It was certainly in the direction our army had taken-it came from Waterloo!-Had our troops then encountered the French before they had joined the Prussians?Were they separately engaged?-Where?-When?→ How?-In vain, did every one ask questions which none could answer-numbers of people in carriages and on horseback set off towards Waterloo, and returned no wiser than they went, each bringing back a different story-a thousand absurd reports, totally devoid of foundation, were circulated-what you were told one minute, was contradicted the next. According to some, Blucher had been completely beatenaccording to others, he had gained a complete victory;

or some would have it, that 30,000 French were left dead on the field of battle-others, that about the same number were advancing to surprize Brussels. It was even said that the English army were retreating in confusion-but the bearers of this piece of intelligence were received with so much indignation, and such incredulity, that they were glad to hold their peace. Some said the scene of action was twenty miles off-others that it was only six. At length intelligence came from the army, brought by an officer who had left the field after five o'clock. The British, in their march, had encountered the French army about fifteen miles from Brussels-onthe plains of Fleurus.* The Highland regiments re-.

* The French were not destined to be a second time victorious on the plains of Fleurus. About the end of the 17th century, a great battle was fought here, in which they completely defeated the Allies.

eeived the furious onset of the whole French army, without yielding one inch of ground. With resolute unshaken valour they fought to the last, and fell upon the very spot where they first drew their swords. The combat was terrible-the enemy were in much more formidable force than had been represented, and deriving confidence from their immense superiority of numbers, they fought most furiously-Blucher was separately engaged with another division of French at some distance, and could give us no assistance. Yet this brave handful of British had undauntedly stood their ground, repulsed every attack, and were still fighting with the fullest confidence of success. In the words of this officer, "all was well."

Still the cannonading continued, and apparently approached nearer.* The French were said to be 30 or 40,000 strong. Only 10,000 British troops had marched out of Brussels-our army was unconcentrated—it was impossible that the cavalry could have come up-the principal part of the artillery were at a distance. Under such circumstances, it was impossible, even with the fullest confidence in British valour, not to feel extreme anxiety for the army. Unable to rest, we wandered about the place the whole evening, or stood upon the ramparts listening to the heavy cannonade, which towards 10 o'clock became fainter, and soon afterwards entirely died away,

Further intelligence arrived-the battle had continued five hours since the last accounts came away. The anxiety to know its result may be imagined,

*Probably because in the stillness of evening-it was heard more distinctly. There was no real change of position.

Between twelve and one, we suddenly heard the rolling of heavy carriages, in long succession, passing rapidly through the Place Royale, and the loud cries and exclamations of the people below. Hastily going out to inquire the cause of this tumult, the first person I encountered was a scared Fille-de-Chambre, who exclaimed in a most piteous tone--"6

les François sont tout près-dans une petite demi-heure ils seront ici

Que ferons-nous, que ferons

il faut

nous! parler tout de suite." Questions were in vain-she could only reiterate again and again,-" Les François sont tout près-Les François sont tout près,”—and then renew her exclamations and lamentations. Every room door was open-the candles were left burning on the tables-every creature had run out into the Place Royale at the bottom of the stairs, a group of the affrighted Belgians were assembled-consternation pictured on their faces. They could only tell me that intelligence had been brought, of a large body of French having been seen advancing through the woods to take Brussels, that they were within half an hour's march of the city, (which was wholly undefended), and that the English army was in full retreat. C'est trop clair-c'est trop clair, was repeated on every side," and the train of artillery that was passing through (they said) was retreating!”— We had soon, however, the satisfaction of finding that this was not the case, that the artillery were passing through to join the army, that they were not retreating, but advancing. This alarm gradually sub,

sided-some people indeed took their departure-but as the French did not make their appearance, some went to bed, and others lay down in their clothes, by. no means assured that their slumbers might not be broken by the entrance of the French.

In fact, between five and six, we were roused by a loud knocking at the door, and the cries of “ Les François sont ici-Les François sont ici." Starting up, and the first sight we beheld, was a troop of Belgic cavalry-covered-not with glory, but with mud, galloping through the town at full speed, as if the enemy were at their heels; and immediately the heavy baggage waggons, which had been harnessed from the moment of the first alarm, set off full gallop down La Montagne de la Cais, and through every street by which it was possible to effect their escape. In less than two minutes, the great Square of the Place Royale, which had been crowded with men and horses, carts and baggage waggons, was completely cleared of every thing, and entirely deserted. Again were the cries repeated, of "Les François sont ici! Ils s'emparent de la porte de la ville!" The doors of all the bed-rooms open-the people flew out with their night-caps on, scarcely half dressed, and looking quite distracted, running about pale and trembling, they knew not whither, with packages under their armis-some carrying huge heterogeneous col lections of things down to the celiars, and others loaded with their property flying up to the garrets. The poor Fille-de-Chambre, nearly frightened out of her wits, was standing wringing her hands, unable to articulate any thing but "Les François-Les Fran

çois!"—while the Cuisiniers, like Buonaparte himself, exclaimed with more dignity, "Nous sommes tous perdus,"

In the court-yard below, a scene of the most dreadful confusion ensued; the scuffle that took place to get at the horses and carriages it is impossible to describe; the squabbling of masters and servants, ostlers, chambermaids, coachmen, and gentlemen, all scolding at once, and swearing at each other in French, English, and Flemish; every opprobrious epithet and figure of speech which the three languages contained was exhausted upon each other, and the confusion of tongues we might suppose resembled the Tower of Babel. Some made use of supplication, and others had recourse to force; words were followed by blows. One half of the Belgic drivers refused either to go themselves, or let their beasts go, and with many gesticulations called upon all the saints and angels in heaven to witness, that they would not set off-no, not to save the Prince of Orange himself; and neither love nor money, nor threats, nor intreaties, could induce them to alter this determination. Those who had horses, or means of procuring them, set off with most astonishing expedition, and one English carriage after another took the road to Antwerp.

The disgraceful panic of some English, thus assisting Buonaparte's emissaries, gave countenance to the false news of the Duke of Wellington's defeat; and it was received for certain, and acted upon at the Hague, Antwerp, Brussels, and surrounding country: the consequent confusion may be conceived, but it is impossible for words to express.