Wellington. 'The hour is come!' he is
said to have exclaimed; and closing his telescope, commanded the whole
line to advance. The order was exultingly obeyed: forming four deep, on
came the British:--wounds, and fatigue, and hunger, were all forgotten!
With their customary steadiness they crossed the ridge; but when they
saw the French, and began to move down the hill, a cheer that seemed to
rend the heavens pealed from their proud array, and with levelled
bayonets they pressed on to meet the enemy.

"But, panicstruck and disorganized, the French resistance was short and
feeble. The Prussian cannon thundered in their rear; the British bayonet
was flashing in their front; and, unable to stand the terror of the
charge, they broke and fled. A dreadful and indiscriminate carnage
ensued. The great road was choked with the equipage, and cumbered with
the dead and dying; while the fields, as far as the eye could reach,
were covered with a host of helpless fugitives. Courage and discipline
were forgotten, and Napoleon's army of yesterday was now a splendid
wreck--a terror-stricken multitude. His own words best describe it--'It
was a total rout!'

"But although the French army had ceased to exist as such, and now
(to use the phrase of a Prussian officer) exhibited rather the flight
of a scattered horde of barbarians, than the retreat of a disciplined
body--never had it, in the proudest days of its glory, shown greater
devotion to its leader, or displayed more desperate and unyielding
bravery, than during the long and sanguine battle of the 18th. The
plan of Buonaparte's attack was worthy of his martial renown: it was
unsuccessful; but let this be ascribed to the true cause--the heroic and
enduring courage of the troops, and the man to whom he was opposed.
Wellington without that army, or, that army without Wellington, must
have fallen beneath the splendid efforts of Napoleon.

"While a mean attempt has been often made to lower the military
character of that great warrior, who is now no more, those who would
libel Napoleon rob Wellington of half his glory. It may be the proud
boast of England's hero, that the subjugator of Europe fell before
him, not in the wane of his genius, but in the full possession
of those martial talents which placed him foremost in the list of
conquerors--leading that very army which had overthrown every power that
had hitherto opposed it, now perfect in its discipline, flushed with
recent success, an