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 British artillery. Here he harangued his troops. He reminded them how often he had relied on their valour in cases of emergency, and that he had never yet appealed to them in vain. He told them that the enemy, diminished in numbers and almost annhilated, could offer no effectual resistance that they had nothing to encounter but an artillery, which was indeed numerous and formidable, but which they would easily carry with the bayoniet. They answered with a shout of enthusiasm, and the cry of "The Emperor for ever!" was distinctly heard as far as the British lines.

The Allies imagined that Napoleon was about to attack them in person, and far from being intimidated, rejoiced that they would have an opportunity of showing him of what the soldiers of Wellington were capable. The Emperor, however, remained secure under the rising bank, and his brave and devoted troops defiled before him under the command of Ney, and ascended the eminence.

They marched on with a firm and steady step, and in dead silence. The fate of the battle; the fate of Europe depended upon them. The fire of the Allies abated; and with indescribable feelings of anxiety, awe, and admiration, they contemplated the approach of the chosen troops of France, the battalions who were the terror of Europe, and who had never yet been vanquished. But the pause was only momentary. Every cannon seemed to open at once on the foe, and swept whole ranks away. As the front ranks fell, others in an instant rushed forward to fill up the chasms, and with stern and unbroken front, the imperial guard continued to advance.

In a hollow of the ground, inmediately in front of the French, and protected from the fire of their artillery, lay a regiment of the British guards.