Cobbett's Political Register, and which the House voted to be libellous and scandalous. Burdett was taken from the house, No. 80, Piccadilly, on the 6th of April. The arrest had been made by forcing open the area windows and doors of the house, after a fruitless attempt to get by a ladder in at the drawing-room window. Sir Francis was then found in his drawing-room with his family, viz. his brother and son, with some ladies, and a tall, stout Irish gentleman (this was Roger O'Connor, the brother of Arthur O'Connor, the Irish traitor). About twenty or thirty persons, constables and magistrates, with the serjeant and deputy-serjeant at their head, went into the room. Sir Francis Burdett desired the serjeant to produce his authority and read his warrant, which he did. Sir Francis said it was illegal, and he should not go, unless forced. Then the serjeant touched him by the arm, and Sir Francis Burdett, with his brother and a servant, went downstairs to the coach, which was ready at the door. The deputy-serjeant and a messenger went with Sir Francis Burdett and Mr. Jones Burdett, his brother, in the coach; Sir Francis's servant behind it. The serjeant went on horseback before. The military force present at the arrest were the Guards and a large body of cavalry. The Life Guards attended the coach on each side, and before and behind. The 15th Light Dragoons led the way. They went round by Portland-street and the City-road, through Finsbury-square and the Minories to the Tower. Tower Hill was covered by the mob. Lord Moira received Sir Francis Burdett in the Governor's apartments in the Tower; and the Lieutenant gave Mr. Colman a receipt, and Sir Francis gave Mr. Colman a letter to convey to Lady Burdett. The carriage stopped at the palisade of the Tower, near the lions; and Sir Francis Burdett, with the serjeant, went on foot over the bridge, and under the gateway, to the Governor's apartments. Lord Moira gave him his hand upon his entrance, and offered him the whole range of the Tower if he would give his word and honour not to pass the gates; which Sir Francis undertook—and he kept his word.

While the news of the committal was the subject of conversation, a sentimental young lady inquired what Sir Francis had done? "Alas!" said her lover, "he is the victim of an unfortunate attachment." Tears of commiseration came into the lady's eyes; and when her informant left her, she indited

66

so far

some dozen stanzas on Constancy, and sent them to Sir Francis in prison. Having communicated this to her lover, he lost her favour for ever by explaining that Sir Francis, from being a victim of the tender passion, had been only attached for high treason."

Sir Francis Burdett died January 23, 1844, in his 74th year. After reading the above account of his being besieged in his house in Piccadilly, his committal to the Tower, and his withstanding many subsequent years of strong political excitement, the story of his death reads strangely. He had been married to Lady Burdett fifty years; when, towards the close of 1843, her health gave way, and she died on Jan. 10 following. Her death sounded her husband's knell. Such was his grief that life became to him an insupportable burthen. Resolutely refusing food or nourishment of any kind, [as we learn from Sir Bernard Burke,] he died on the 23d of the same month; and husband and wife were buried side by side in the same vault, at the same hour, on the same day, in the church of Ramsbury, Wilts.

FIRE AND SMOKE.

When Curran visited France in 1814, he wrote in pencil on the column erected about a mile to the west of Boulogne, by Napoleon, to commemorate his attempt to invade England: "When ambition achieves its desire, How Fortune must laugh at the joke ; He rose in a pillar of fire,

To set in a pillar of smoke."

THE BATTLE OF WATERLOO.

Capt. Gronow, who, in his own words, "took but a humble part in this great contest, yet had opportunities of seeing and hearing much, both during and after the battle," has related these stirring episodes.

The whole of the British infantry not actually engaged, were, on the morning of the 18th, formed into squares; and, as you looked along our lines, it seemed as if we formed a continuous wall of human beings. "I recollect," says the Captain, "distinctly being able to see Bonaparte and his staff; and some of my brother officers, using the glass, exclaimed, 'There he is on his white horse.'

+

"About 4 P.M. the enemy's artillery in front of us ceased firing all of a sudden, and we saw large masses of cavalry advance; not a man present who survived could have forgotten, in after life, the awful grandeur of that charge. You perceived at a distance what appeared to be an overwhelming, long moving line, which, ever advancing, glittered, like a stormy wave of the sea, when it catches the sunlight. On

came the mounted host until they got-near enough, whilst the very earth seemed to vibrate beneath their thundering tramp. One might suppose that nothing could have resisted the shock of this terrible moving mass. They were the famous cuirassiers. In an almost incredibly short period, they were within twenty yards of us, shouting Vive l'Empereur ! The word of com!' mand, Prepare to receive cavalry,' had been given, every man in the front ranks knelt, and a wall bristling with steel, held together by steady hands, presented itself to the infuriated cuirassiers.

Our

"Just before this charge, the Duke entered by one of the angles of the square, accompanied only by one aide-de-camp; all the rest of the staff being either killed or wounded. Commander-in-Chief, as far as I could judge, appeared perfectly composed; but looked very thoughtful and pale. He was dressed in a grey great-coat with a cape, white cravat, leather pantaloons, Hessian boots, and a large cocked-hat á la Russe.

"The charge of the French cavalry was gallantly executed ; but our long well-directed fire brought men and horses down, and ere long the utmost confusion arose in their ranks. The officers were exceedingly brave, and by their gestures and fearless bearing did all in their power to encourage their men to form again and renew the attack. The Duke sat unmoved, mounted on his favourite charger. I recollect his asking Colonel Stanhope what o'clock it was, upon which Stanhope took out his watch, and said it was twenty minutes past four, the Duke replied, 'The battle is mine; and if the Prussians arrive soon, there will be an end of the war.'

"During the terrible fire of artillery which preceded the repeated charges of the cuirassiers against our squares, many shells fell amongst us. We were lying down, when a shell fell between Captain (after Colonel) Colquitt and another officer. In an instant Colquitt jumped up, caught the shell as if it had been a cricket-ball, and flung it over the heads of

both officers and men, thus saving the lives of many brave fellows."

.

Then comes the soldierly narrative of the last Charge :·-- "It was about five o'clock, that we suddenly received orders to retire behind an elevation in our rear. The enemy's artillery had come up en masse within a hundred yards of us. By the time they began to discharge their guns, however, we were lying down behind the rising ground, and protected by a ridge. The enemy's cavalry was in the rear of their artillery, in order to be ready to protect it if attacked; but no attempt was made on our part to do so. After they had pounded away at us for about half-an-hour, they deployed, and up came the whole mass of the Imperial infantry of the Guard, led on by the Emperor in person. We had now before us, probably, about 20,000 of the best soldiers in France, the heroes of many memorable victories; we saw the bear-skin rise higher and higher, as they ascended the ridge of ground which separated us and advanced nearer and nearer to our lines.

"It was at this moment that the Duke of Wellington gave his famous order for our bayonet charge, as he rode along the line; these are the precise words he made use of—' Guards, get up and charge.' We were instantly on our legs, and after ten weary hours of inaction and irritation at maintaining a purely defensive attitude-all the time suffering the loss of comrades and friends-the spirit which animated officers and men may easily be imagined. After firing a volley, as soon as the enemy were within shot, we rushed on with fixed bayonets, and that hearty hurrah peculiar to British soldiers.

"It appeared that our men, deliberately and with calculation, singled out their victims; for as they came upon the Imperial Guard, our line broke, and the fighting became irregular, the impetuosity of our men seemed almost to paralyze their enemy; I witnessed several of the Imperial Guard who were run through the body apparently without any resistance on their parts. I observed a big Welshman of the name of Hughes, who was 6 feet 7 inches in height, run through with his bayonet and knock down with the butt end of his firelock, I should think, a dozen, at least, of his opponents. This terrible contest did not last more than ten minutes, for the Imperial Guard was seen in full retreat, leaving all their guns and many prisoners in our hands."

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WELLINGTON'S ACCOUNT OF THE BATTLE OF WATERLOO.

As might be expected, the Duke was applied to by several persons for details of this great battle. His replies are very characteristic; the first is dated from Cambrai, April 10th, 1816::

"The Duke of Wellington presents his compliments to Sir John Sinclair, and is much obliged to him for the account of the defence of Hougoumont. The battle of Waterloo is, undoubtedly, one of the most interesting events of modern times; but the Duke entertains no hopes of ever seeing an account of all its details which shall be true. The detail, even, of the defence of Hougoumont is not exactly true; and the Duke begs leave to suggest to Sir John Sinclair, that the publication of details of this kind which are not exact cannot be attended with any utility."

But the persevering Scotchman was not to be so easily got rid of; he writes again, to which the Duke replies :—

“I have received your letter of the 20th. The people of England may be entitled to a detailed and accurate account of the battle of Waterloo, and I have no objection to their having it; but I do object to their being misinformed and misled by those novels called 'Relations,' 'Impartial Accounts,' &c. &c., of that transaction, containing the stories which curious travellers have picked up from peasants, private soldiers, individual officers, &c. &c., and have published to the world as the truth. Hougoumont was no more fortified than La Haye Sainte; and the latter was not lost for want of fortifications, but by one of those accidents from which human affairs are never entirely exempt. I am really disgusted with and ashamed of all that I have seen of the battle of Waterloo. The number of writings upon it would lead the world to suppose that the British army had never fought a battle before, and there is not one which contains a true representation, or even an idea, of the transaction; and this is because the writers have referred as above quoted, instead of to the official sources and reports. It is not true that the British army was unprepared. The story of the Greek is equally unfounded as that of Vandamme having 46,000 men ; upon which last point I refer you to Marshal Ney's report, who upon that point must be the best authority.".