[Illustration: "+Signatures of Officers Present of the 2nd (or R.N.B.) Regiment of Dragoons entitled to share of Prize Money granted for the Waterloo Campaign.+"
"At the end of the night I was sent to collect what men I could that had gone off with the wounded, and all that were left with the regiment was 16 officers and men.
"I buried 8 officers the next day. Trotter was the first, he was shot through the heart; I have written to his brother-in-law, and said I would pay his bills and remit home the money that arose from his things being sold. I have bought Colonel Hamilton's horse, which is a very fine one, 5 years old and fit to carry 15 stone, for £55; he refused £100 for him often. When the bills for Trotter's things are given, I shall send them either to you or the agent. I lost some of my things, many officers their whole baggage. The Belgian cavalry ran off to Brussels, saying the Army was defeated, and took our baggage from the men by force; such a scene never was witnessed; the road at last got blocked with waggons, and the Brunswick Hussars and the Belgians seized upon everything. Let me hear from you as soon as possible. Write to my father when you get this and say I am well. I shall write you next from Paris, which is only 100 miles off, and with love to the children,
"Believe me, "Yours truly, "+A. J. Hamilton+. "To Captain Lawson."
Letter from Cornet Clape (age 16), Scots Greys, to his Mother a week after the Battle of Waterloo.
"I am afraid my long silence may have occasioned you some uneasiness, particularly as the list of killed and wounded was so long making its appearance. I would have written the day after the battle, but where could I find pen and ink, in the middle of a cornfield that was occupied the night before by the enemy.
"I have certainly delayed writing to you this week, as I wanted to date my letter from Paris, which we have been expecting to enter every day. As you must now be certain that I have escaped without a broken head, and, as to my health, I could not enjoy better, you may perhaps wish for the history of our proceedings since we left Dunderhauten.
"On the morning of the 15th we were roused from a most comfortable sleep by the sound of Bugles, and noise of Sergeants crying 'Turn out,' 'Turn out!' We understood that the enemy had in some fear of our pickets, and that we were to march about 15 miles, which we did, when we were ordered to move on with all possible speed to the field of action. We could hear the firing distinctly. We got to Ne----lles about nine at night. The firing had almost ceased, they were bringing in the wounded by hundreds. We arrived on the field of Battle at 12 o'clock, where we bivouacked, after having marched upwards of 50 miles. I rolled my cloak round me, and laid down in some rye, where I slept as sound as ever I did in my life. On the morning of the 17th the firing commenced early, chiefly skirmishing. We could not see much of it, as we were covered by some rising ground. About 12 the Cavalry and Artillery took up positions upon the heights, to cover the retreat of the Infantry. We commenced our march in their rear about 4 o'clock, going through Jenappes: the rain fell in torrents. We soon after moved into the cornfields, where we what they called shewed a front, retiring, then fronting again. It was here that I first heard the whizzing of a Ball (there is really something very grand about it). They were coming pretty fast and very near us: however we had not a man killed, or wounded. At 7 we halted. The firing had ceased. We had touched nothing since we left Dunderhau--but a little bread and some . Luckily we were near a very large farm house, that supplied us with wood and straw. Such a scene of destruction I never before witnessed. Ploughs, Harrows, Chairs, Tables, everything that would burn was brought out to make fires. The straw was unthrashed. Old sows, little pigs, calves and cows, all shared the same fate. I got a calves kidney, and although it was not dressed in style (for one half of it was raw) I made a very dainty meal of it.