ers into detachments of five hundred each, and sent them for safety to different cantons in France.

My division, being the fifth, was sent to the town of Moines, where was an ancient guillotine, formerly the scene of cruelty and blood, during the French Revolution. As the Russians advanced towards Paris, and fought the battle of Troyes, we received orders to march to Tours, this latter place being considered more safe, and out of the reach of the allied forces.

While on our march to Tours, fourteen of my comrades, besides myself, having laid our plans the night before, deserted the guard, while on our line of march. We took French leave of our old keepers, while in a piece of woods, between Moines and Orleans. The Governor of the pris on, apprehensive we might desert, as he knew the French were retreating before the Russians and Prussians, warned us while in the prison yard on the morning of our march, of the dangers and evil consequences of our attempting to run away. To all of which we turned a deaf ear. We had no arms of course, being prisoners, but we had received three days bread, a loaf to each man, which we thought would be sufficient to last, until we joined the allies. Our position on the march was in the centre, between the front and rear guard, which was composed of French invalids, all the effective men being required for active service.

There was a difference of opinion among us,

whether the guns of our escort were actually loaded, some thought they were not, but it appeared to me that they had a shot in the locker in case we attempted to leave the ranks. This actually proved to be the case, for no sooner had we got into the woods than a smart volley came whizzing round our ears, the effect of which we avoided by covering ourselves on the retreat by the trees.

At this time the Russians and French were engaged, and we distinctly heard the sound of their cannon, which served us as a guide to direct us to the Russian and Prussian army.

On the second day about 11 o'clock, we arrived in safety at the advanced posts of the Prussian forces, where we were received with great cordiality. The Prussian commander sent an interpreter with us to the Alcalde of the neighboring village, demanding of him in our behalf, a good dinner for each, and a bottle of the best wine. This proved quite a treat to us after our poor fare, and long imprisonment.

Shortly after this the allied army, moved forward and entered Paris, where I was requested to become a waiter to an English officer, in the Russian service, with whom I remained until peace was concluded.

At the battle of Troyes, Bonaparte and his whole army were discomfited. He with a remnant of his guards, took up a position, upon a small conical hill, near Paris, where he surrender

ed and was afterwards sent to Elba. I remained in Paris about three months. This city is the greatest place for crime and debauch in the world, women and wine are as plenty as shad flies on the Hudson.

Upon the exchange of prisoners I set out for Dunkirk, in Holland, where I took passage on board the King's cutter, and in a few hours landed at Dale. I went to Hyde and joined the 2d battalion of the 43d regiment, for my old and first battalion lay at Bordeaux in France. Immediately after, an order came from the War Office, for ten sergeants to join the Duke of York's Chasseurs, a regiment then forming in the Isle of Wight. As one of those ten, I volunteered, and joined that regiment, and shortly we were ordered to the island of St Vincent, in the West Indies.

I can now look back with gratitude on that protecting care that watched over my pathway from the morning of childhood, protected my life, and shielded me when in danger, while the bullets flew around me like hail stones.

Had I when I left Paris, joined the first battalion of the 43d, my old regiment, I might, with many of my brave comrades, have fallen in the battle of New Orleans, under the command of Pakenham, whose soldiers lay in heaps before the entrenchments of Andrew Jackson and his brave Americans. Or had I survived and sailed with the remnant of the British troops, from New Orleans,

to France, my bones might have lain bleaching on the field of Waterloo.*

BATTLE OF WATERLOO.

The allied powers again took up arms for the overthrow of Bonaparte, who had returned from Elba; the Duke of Wellington having arrived at Brussels early in April, was appointed field marshal of the United Netherlands, the force under him amounting to eighty thousand, of which about thirty-eight thousand were English. The Prussians were already in Flanders, under the command of Blucher; and the troops of Italy, Russia and Austria, were also rapidly approaching the frontiers of France. Meantime, Napoleon having been received with the greatest enthusiasm in his capital, had got together no less than three hundred and seventy-five thousand men under arms, by the first of June; and on the 14th, he appeared on the Belgian frontier with his army, concentrated into three divisions, amounting to one hundred and thirty thousand fighting men, with a field artillery of three hundred and fifty pieces. He had the utmost confidence in his troops; and saying, as he threw himself into his carriage to proceed to join them, "I go to measure myself against Wellington," set out from

*I was not in the battle of Waterloo, but for the benefit of the reader will here insert a brief account of that memorable engagement.

Paris in full conviction of shortly returning to it as Emperor of France, and conqueror of Europe.

"Soldiers," said Napoleon, in his last address to his army, "this is the anniversary of Marengo, and of Friedland, which twice decided the fate of Europe. Then, as after the battles of Austerlitz and Wagram, we were too generous. We trusted to the oaths and protestations of princes, whom we left upon their thrones. Now, however, coalesced among themselves they conspire against our independence, and the most sacred rights of France. They have begun the most unjust of aggressions. Are not they and we the same still? Soldiers! at Jena, against these same Prussians, now so arrogant, you were as one to three; and, at Montmirail, one to six. Let those among you that have been prisoners in England, describe their pontons (the hulks), and tell the miseries they there endured. A moment of prosperity has united these senseless princes against us. The oppression and humiliation of France are beyond their power. If they enter France, they will there find a grave!"

Nothing could be more calculated than this address to inflame the passions and animate the courage of those to whom it was addressed. Impatient for battle, the French troops advanced rapidly to the Belgic territory; and, on the 15th of June, a body of them met the Prussian out-posts, at a short distance from the Sambre, and forced