Being hard pressed by superior numbers, we were at length joined by a number of Belgians, and received orders to advance, which we did, driving the enemy through the skirts of a wood, and passing a field of rye, which obstructed them from our view. As soon, however, as we emerged from the wood, a regiment of French infantry on our right received us with a running fire. I was in the act of taking aim at some of our opposing skirmishers, when a ball struck my trigger finger, tearing it off, and turning the trigger aside; while a second shot passed through the mess-tin on my knapsack. Several of our men were killed by this volley, and Lieutenant Gardiner, a worthy little officer of the company, was severely wounded in the lower part of the leg. We wounded men made the best of our way to the rear; and on my return to the house at the corner of the lane, I found the pretty Belgian still in possession, looking out of the window, and seemingly quite unconcerned, although a dozen shots had perforated the house: all our entreaties for her to leave were in vain, as her father, she said, had desired her to take care of the place until he returned from Brussels. The dusk of the evening soon set in, myself and numbers of others disabled, took up our quarters for the night in another farm-house lower down, and some distance from the main road. The house became soon thronged with the wounded of our division, who were momentarily brought in, until the out-houses, courtlages, &c., were literally crammed. All the straw and hay that could be obtained was procured, of which, fortunately, there was plenty, and strewed everywhere to lay the men on. To sleep was impossible with the anguish of my shattered hand and the groans of my fellow-sufferers. The dawn came on before we were aware of it, and ere it was light, our advanced sentries were again in continual skirmish along the whole line; indeed, the balls kept patting through the doors and windows as we lay there. Such as were able to walk soon started for Brussels; but several of the severely wounded were obliged to be left behind for want of conveyances. We had not proceeded far towards the main road along a pathway partially protected by a hedge from the enemy’s fire, when one of my companions heard the cries of a child on the other side; on looking over he espied a fine boy, about two or three years of age, by the side of its dead mother, who was still bleeding copiously from a wound in the head, occasioned, most likely, by a random shot from the enemy. We carried the motherless, and perhaps, orphan child, by turns, to Genappe, where we found a number of women of our division, one of whom recognised the little fellow, I think she said, as belonging to a soldier of the First Royals.