eyes, in vain attempts to discover what was passing. At length, some
soldiers in French uniforms were seen in the distance; and as the news
flew from mouth to mouth, it was soon magnified into a rumour that the
French were coming. Horror seized the English and their adherents, and
the hitherto concealed partizans of the French began openly to avow
themselves; tri-coloured ribbons grew suddenly into great request, and
cries of "Vive l'Empereur!" resounded through the air. These
exclamations, however, were changed to "Vive le Lord Vellington!" when
it was discovered that the approaching French came as captives, not
conquerors.

Between seven and eight o'clock in the evening, I walked up to the
_Porte de Namur_, where the wounded were just beginning to arrive.
Fortunately some commodious caravans had arrived from England, only a
few days before, and these were now entering the gate. They were filled
principally with Brunswickers and Highlanders; and it was an appalling
spectacle to behold the very soldiers, whose fine martial appearance and
excellent appointments I had so much admired at the review, now lying
helpless and mutilated--their uniforms soiled with blood and dirt--their
mouths blackened with biting their cartridges, and all the splendour of
their equipments entirely destroyed. When the caravans stopped, I
approached them, and addressed a Scotch officer who was only slightly
wounded in the knee.--"Are the French coming, sir?" asked I.--"Egad I
can't tell," returned he. "We know nothing about it. We had enough to do
to take care of ourselves. They are fighting like devils; and I'm off
again as soon as my wound's dressed."--An English lady, elegantly
attired, now rushed forwards--"Is my husband safe?" asked she
eagerly.--"Good God! Madam," replied one of the men, "how can we
possibly tell! I don't know the fate of those who were fighting by my
side; and I could not see a yard round me." She scarcely heeded what he