"The irremediable disorder consequent on this decisive repulse, and the confusion in the French rear, where Bulow had fiercely attacked them, did not escape the eagle glance of Wellington. 'The hour is come!' he is said to have exclaimed; and closing his telescope, commanded the whole line to advance. The order was exultingly obeyed: forming four deep, on came the British:—wounds, and fatigue, and hunger, were all forgotten! With their customary steadiness they crossed the ridge; but when they saw the French, and began to move down the hill, a cheer that seemed to rend the heavens pealed from their proud array, and with levelled bayonets they pressed on to meet the enemy.
"But, panicstruck and disorganized, the French resistance was short and feeble. The Prussian cannon thundered in their rear; the British bayonet was flashing in their front; and, unable to stand the terror of the charge, they broke and fled. A dreadful and indiscriminate carnage ensued. The great road was choked with the equipage, and cumbered with the dead and dying; while the fields, as far as the eye could reach, were covered with a host of helpless fugitives. Courage and discipline were forgotten, and Napoleon's army of yesterday was now a splendid wreck—a terror-stricken multitude. His own words best describe it—'It was a total rout!'
"But although the French army had ceased to exist as such, and now (to use the phrase of a Prussian officer) exhibited rather the flight of a scattered horde of barbarians, than the retreat of a disciplined body—never had it, in the proudest days of its glory, shown greater devotion to its leader, or displayed more desperate and unyielding bravery, than during the long and sanguine battle of the 18th. The plan of Buonaparte's attack was worthy of his martial renown: it was unsuccessful; but let this be ascribed to the true cause—the heroic and enduring courage of the troops, and the man to whom he was opposed. Wellington without that army, or, that army without Wellington, must have fallen beneath the splendid efforts of Napoleon.
"While a mean attempt has been often made to lower the military character of that great warrior, who is now no more, those who would libel Napoleon rob Wellington of half his glory. It may be the proud boast of England's hero, that the subjugator of Europe fell before him, not in the wane of his genius, but in the full possession of those martial talents which placed him foremost in the list of conquerors—leading that very army which had overthrown every power that had hitherto opposed it, now perfect in its discipline, flushed with recent success, and confident of approaching victory."
ANNUALS FOR 1830.
1. The Juvenile Forget-me-not. Edited by Mrs. S.C. Hall.
2. The Amulet. By Mr. S.C. Hall.
The tone and temper of these two works—to us the first fruits of "the Annuals" are excellent, as their literary execution is admirable. The first has innumerable attractions for the young; its pleasantness consists in simplicity and truth, whilst its narratives of the playful incidents of childhood are interspersed with "good seed," and precept and pretty illustration spring up in every page. The second work, the Amulet, is calculated for maturer age, and its literary pretensions are consequently of a more advanced order: but of these we shall speak more at length on a future occasion. Our intention in coupling the works at the head of this slight notice is to express our high esteem of the taste which has dictated the scholar and the gentleman in the production of the Amulet, and his ingenious lady in the "delightful task" of writing and catering for those of tender growth, in the Juvenile Forget-me-not. The association is indeed delightful, and has all the interest of a family picture: it beams with affection and parental love, truth, and nature; and happy, thrice happy, must be the union that is crowned with so amiable an intercommunity of mind.
The first few pages of the Juvenile Forget-me-not are very appropriately occupied by a playful paper by the late Mrs. Barbauld, the sincerity and tenderness of whose Lessons and Hymns we have never forgotten even amidst all the cares and crosses of after life. How often and how fondly too have we lingered over their delightful pages; and it may be questioned whether any works ever produced a better or more lasting impression on the infantine mind—than these unassuming little volumes. Mrs. Barbauld's present article is entitled "the Misses, addressed to a careless girl"—as the Misses Chief, Management, Lay, Place, Understanding, Representation, Trust, Rule, Hap, Chance, Take, and Miss Fortune; the "latter, though she has it not in her power to be an agreeable acquaintance, has sometimes proved a valuable friend. The wisest philosophers have not scrupled to acknowledge themselves the better for her company, &c." Then follow some pleasing lines to "My Son, My Son," by Allan Cunningham, glorifying the bounty of Providence, "A Tale of a Triangle," by Mary Howitt, is a pretty school sketch. Next are some lines by James Montgomery, on Birds—as the Swallow, Skylark, &c. in all, numbering forty-five. "The Muscle," by Dr. Walsh, consists of half-a-dozen conversational pages, illustrating its natural history in a very pleasing style, which is really worth the attention of many who attempt to simplify science. Next Miss Mitford has a true story of "Two Dolls," and the author of Selwyn a pretty little story, entitled "Prison Roses;" Miss Jewsbury, "Aunt Kate and the Review;" and Mr. S.C. Hall a sketch of a "Blind Sailor"—both of which are very pleasing. "A Child's Prayer," by the Ettrick Shepherd, is a sweet and simple hymn of praise. "The Royal Sufferer," by Mrs. Hofland, follows, and gives the misfortunes of Prince Arthur in an interesting historiette.—We have only room to enumerate "The Birth-day," a sketch from Nature, by Mrs. Opie; an extremely well-drawn Irish sketch, by Mrs. S.C. Hall; and "The Shipwrecked Boy," a tale, by the author of Letters from the East.
The Engravings, twelve in number, are, for the most part, excellent. The Frontispiece—two lovely children—is exquisitely engraved by J. Thomson, as is also "Heart's Ease," by the same artist: the last, especially, is of great delicacy. "Holiday Time," from Richter, is well chosen for this delightful little work.