After we had crossed the river we formed companies; we marched off up a lane and through a wood, and passed by our old friends, the 52nd, lying down half dead at the top of the hill, from fatigue; they gave us three cheers, and we turned and saluted the same; we marched on to where the French had been encamped on the fifteenth night, and our army had driven them back on the sixteenth morning. The ground was covered with dead and wounded--we marched on to Mount Reveille; from there to Quatre Bras, and from there to Mount St. Jean, in which place the French lay in the rear. On Saturday, the seventeenth, we took up our position in the meadow at the foot of the hill of Mount St. Jean, when the commissary butchers were ordered to kill and cut up for the Light Brigade--some having got wood, others muddy water from the ditch--hanging our camp kettles, we lost no time in cooking it, when we were not a little astonished by a volley of shot rattling about us; but being loathe to lose our beef, some of which was cooked, and some quite raw, we tore off a few morsels, stuffing what we could into our haversacks, quickly ready to advance. Great was our disappointment, however, to find that we had been disturbed by the Brunswickers, who never having seen a rifleman in our dark uniform, took us for French. We still kept on the advance, and came into the hard road turning towards Brussels, to the left, passing by the Coldstream Guards on our present right; they gave us three cheers, and returned a salute. We marched leisurely towards Brussels, within four leagues, or twelve miles, turning towards Brussels to the left, coming into Moret Reveille early in evening. THE BATTLE OF WATERLOO.