The scene which was epitomized in the school-book, is given at greater length in Gleig's Lives of Eminent British Military Commanders. The following are some particulars from Colonel Anderson's narrative in that work: "I met the General," Colonel Anderson says, "on the evening of the 16th, bringing in, in a blanket and sashes. He knew me immediately, though it was almost dark, squeezed me by the hand and said 'Anderson, don't leave me.' At intervals he added 'Anderson, you know that I have always wished to die in this way. I hope the people of England will be satisfied. I hope my country will do me justice. You will see my friends as soon as you can. Tell them everything. I have made my will, and have remembered my servants. Colborne has my will and all my papers.' Major Colborne now came into the room. He spoke most kindly to him; and then said to me, 'Anderson, remember you go to ——, and tell him it is my request, and that I expect, he will give Major Colborne a lieutenant-colonelcy.' He thanked the surgeons for their trouble. He pressed my hand close to his body, and in a few minutes died without a struggle."

He had been struck by a cannon ball. The shot, we are told, had completely crushed his shoulder; the arm was hanging by a piece of skin, and the ribs over the heart, besides been broken, were literally stripped of flesh. Yet, the narrative adds, "he sat upon the field collected and unrepining, as if no ball had struck him, and as if he were placed where he was for the mere purpose of reposing for a brief space from the fatigue of hard riding."

Sir John Colborne himself afterwards at Ciudad Rodrigo came within a hair's-breadth of a similar fate. His right shoulder was shattered by a cannon shot. The escape of the right arm from amputation on the field at the hands of some prompt military surgeon on that occasion, was a marvel. The limb was saved, though greatly disabled. The want of symmetry in Sir John Colborne's tall and graceful form, permanently occasioned by this injury, was conspicuous to the eye. We happened to be present in the Council Chamber at Quebec, in 1838, at the moment when this noble-looking soldier literally vacated the vice-regal chair, and installed his successor Lord Durham in it, after administering to him the oaths. The exchange was not for the better, in a scenic point of view, although the features of Lord Durham, as his well-known portrait shews, were very fine, suggestive of the poet or artist.

Of late years a monument has been erected on Mount Wise at Plymouth, in honour of the illustrious military chief and pre-eminently excellent man, whose memory has just been recalled to us. It is a statue of bronze, by Adams, a little larger than life; and the likeness is admirably preserved. (When seen on horseback at parades or reviews soldiers always averred that he greatly resembled "the Duke." Dr. Henry, in "Trifles from my Portfolio" (ii. 111.) thus wrote of him in 1833: "When we first dined at Government House, we were struck by the strong resemblance he bore to the Duke of Wellington; and there is also," Dr. Henry continues, "a great similarity in mind and disposition, as well as in the lineaments of the face. In one particular they harmonize perfectly—namely, great simplicity of character, and an utter dislike to shew ostentation.")

On the four sides of the granite pedestal of the statue on Mount Wise, are to be read the following inscriptions: in front: John Colborne, Baron Seaton. Born MDCCLXXVIII. Died MDCCCLXIII. On the right side: Canada. Ionian Islands. On the left side: Peninsula. Waterloo. On the remaining side: In memory of the distinguished career and stainless character of Field Marshal Lord Seaton, G.C.B., G.C.M.G., G.C.H. This Monument is erected by his friends and comrades.

Accompanying the family of Sir John Colborne to their place in the Church at York was to be seen every Sunday, for some time, a shy-mannered, black-eyed, Italian-featured Mr. Jeune, tutor to the Governor's sons. This was afterwards the eminent Dr. Jeune, Master of Pembroke College at Oxford, a great promoter of reform in that University, and Bishop of Lincoln. Sir John himself was a man of scholarly tastes; a great student of history, and a practical modern European linguist.

Through a casual circumstance, it is said that full praise was not publicly given, at the time, to the regiment commanded by Sir John Colborne, the 52nd, for the particular service rendered by it at the battle of Waterloo. By the independent direction of their leader, the 52nd made a sudden flank movement at the crisis of the fight and initiated the final discomfiture of which the Guards got the sole praise. At the close of the day, when the Duke of Wellington was rapidly constructing his despatch, Colonel Colborne was inquired for by him, and could not, for the moment, be found. The information, evidently desired, was thus not to be had; and the document was completed and sent off without a special mention of the 52nd's deed of "derring do."

During the life-time of the great Duke there was much reticence among the military authorities in regard to the Battle of Waterloo from the fact that the Duke himself did not encourage discussion on the subject. All was well that had ended well, appeared to have been his doctrine. He once checked an incipient dispute in regard to the great event of the 18th of June between two friends, in his presence, by the command, half-jocose, half-earnest: "You leave the Battle of Waterloo alone!" He gave £60 for a private letter written by himself to a friend on the eve of the battle, and was heard to say, as he threw the document into the fire, "What a fool was I, when I wrote that!"

Since the death of the Duke, an officer of the 52nd, subsequently in Holy Orders,—the Rev. William Leeke—has devoted two volumes to the history of "the 52nd or Lord Seaton's Regiment;" in which its movements on the field of Waterloo are fully detailed. And Colonel Chesney in his "Waterloo Lectures; a Study of the Campaign of 1815" has set the great battle in a new light, and has demolished several English and French traditions in relation to it, bringing out into great prominence the services rendered by Blucher and the Prussians.