Had however the enemy’s cavalry been husbanded, the headlong rush of the victors might have been sufficiently checked, to have allowed the French army to retreat in something like order. But the wreck of that fine army fled, or rather was driven from the long-disputed field, in the wildest disorder and confusion. More important or decisive events than those which so quickly succeeded each other from the 15th to the 18th of June, never before graced the pages of history. Never did the events of a few days produce such important consequences. We, the conquerors of Waterloo, and many of us certainly never expected so glorious a termination to the battle, were glad to lie down among the dead and dying, and snatch a few hours of necessary repose: “Piled high as autumn shocks, there lay The ghastly harvest of the fray, The corpses of the slain.” The battle might be described as having been a succession of assaults, sustained with unabated fury, and often with a boldness and effect that much perplexed our troops and put their firmness to the test. Every renewed attack diminished our numbers, and still the survivors yielded not an inch of ground, and, even without orders, made good the gaps. No other troops in the world would have endured, for so long a period, so terrible a struggle. Our Imperial antagonist admitted that we went through and stood to our work, unlike any troops he had ever seen before and the fact is well authenticated, that Napoleon repeatedly complimented us on our incomparable steadiness and forbearance. But this is not to be wondered at, when our chief, he who had so often directed our energy, affirmed that he had “never seen the British infantry behave so well.” Our glorious contest had been maintained against the most renowned legions of Europe, who had never before shown such uninterrupted audacity and intrepidity. They were led by generals of undoubted skill and gallantry, who with their brave troops had won laurels in many a hard-fought battle, and who believed themselves to be, what their ambitious chief had so often declared, invincible, and as such they were still regarded by most of the continental nations. At Waterloo we had to contend against soldiers of undaunted spirit, full of enthusiasm and careless of life. Never did these heroic men, grown grey in victories, better sustain their reputation than on this occasion. The French are a brave people, and no troops in the world surpass, if any equal them, for impetuosity of attack; but many men will stand fire and face distant danger, and yet shrink from the struggle when closing in desperate grasp with an enemy. It is not bravery alone which decides the battle, calmness is often absolutely necessary, and in this, the most valiant are at times found wanting. Never did a battle require more cool and determined courage than that of Waterloo. Nothing can be more trying to troops than passive