impossible to see the many hand-to-hand encounters; the thick overcoats of the enemy, we knew well, would ward off many a blow. Our men, we found afterwards, went in with point or with the fifth, sixth, or seventh cuts about the head; the consequence was, the field was covered pretty thickly with the enemy, but hundreds of their wounded were carried away. We found that they were all strongly buckled to their horses, so that it was only when the horse fell that the rider was likely to fall. But if ever a body of cavalry were handled roughly, that column of Muscovites were. They bolted--that is, all that could--like a flock of sheep with a dog at their tails. Their officers tried to bring them up, but it was no go; they had had enough, and left the field to Gen. Scarlett's band of heroes. How ever that gallant officer escaped was a miracle, for he led some thirty yards right into the jaws of death, and came off without a scratch. The victorious brigade triumphantly rejoined their comrades, and were received with a wild burst of enthusiasm. It would be well if we could now draw the curtain and claim a glorious victory. The French officers were loud in their admiration of the daring feat of arms they had just witnessed. Many of them said it was most glorious. Sir Colin Campbell might well get a little excited, and express his admiration of the Scots Greys. This old hero rode up to the front of the Greys with hat in hand, and exclaimed with pride: "Greys, gallant Greys! I am past sixty-one years; if I were young again, I should be proud to be in your ranks; you are worthy of your forefathers." But, reader, they were not alone. It was the Union Brigade, as at Waterloo, that had just rode through and through the enemy, and drew the words from Lord Raglan, who had witnessed both charges: "Well done, Scarlett!" The loss of this noble brigade was comparatively trifling taking into consideration the heavy loss they inflicted upon the foe. My readers must know that the Union Brigade was composed of one English, one Irish, and one Scotch regiment; so that it was old England, ould Ireland, and Scotland for ever! THE GALLANT UNION BRIGADE. "In spurs and out sabres, now bend to your labours, Inniskilling and gallant Scots Greys, Full oft, too, in the light you aforetime stood neighbours, but ne'er in more desperate fray; The Fourth Royal Irish are hard on your track, with the Fifth Dragoon Guards by their side, And the gallant First Royals that never showed back, nor found foe that their onset defied. On they dash, boot to boot, bend to bend, and blade to blade; What care they for the numbers against them arrayed. In pell-mell on the foe, like a bolt from a bow, With a cheer loud and clear as a trumpet they go;