should ensue, elating them in their turn, and leaving its cursed legacy of hatred and rage behind to us, there is no end to the so-called glory and shame, and to the alternations of successful and unsuccessful murder, in which two high-spirited nations might engage. Centuries hence, we 5 Frenchmen and Englishmen might be boasting and killing each other still, carrying out bravely the devil's code of honor. All day long, whilst the women were praying ten miles away, the lines of the dauntless English infantry were 10 receiving and repelling the furious charges of the French horsemen. Guns which were heard at Brussels were plowing up their ranks, and comrades falling, and the resolute survivors closing in. Toward evening the attack of the French, repeated and resisted so bravely, slackened in its 15 fury. They had other foes besides the British to engage, or were preparing for a final onset. It came at last; the columns of the Imperial Guard marched up the hill of Saint Jean, at length and at once to sweep the English from the height which they had 20 maintained all day and spite of all; unscared by the thunder of the artillery, which hurled death from the English line, the dark, rolling column pressed on and up the hill. It seemed almost to crest the eminence, when it began 25 to wave and falter. Then it stopped, still facing the shot. Then, at last, the English troops rushed from the post from which no enemy had been able to dislodge them, and the Guard turned and fled. No more firing was heard at Brussels, - the pursuit rolled miles away. Darkness came down on the field 5 and city. the Imperial Guard: a body of soldiers chosen by Napoleon as his bodyguard. — Saint Jean (sän zhän): the name given by the French to this battle. The English called it Waterloo, from a village four miles away, where Wellington wrote of his victory. See note on Wellington, page 226. THE NIGHT BEFORE WATERLOO LORD BYRON NOTE. "There never was," says Thackeray, "since the days of Darius, such a brilliant train of camp followers as hung round the train of the Duke of Wellington's army in the Low Countries, in 1815; and led it, dancing and feasting, as it were, up to the very brink of battle. A 10 certain ball which a noble duchess gave at Brussels on the 15th of June in the above-named year is historical." The battle which followed the next day is known as that of Quatre Bras; it occurred forty-eight hours before the battle of Waterloo. On the 16th also was fought the battle of Ligny, 15 20 Napoleon's last victory. There was a sound of revelry by night, The lamps shone o'er fair women and brave men; Music arose with its voluptuous swell, Soft eyes looked love to eyes which spake again, And all went merry as a marriage bell; But hush! hark! a deep sound strikes like a rising knell! Did ye not hear it? No; 't was but the wind, Or the car rattling o'er the stony street; 10 15 20 5 On with the dance! let joy be unconfined; And nearer, clearer, deadlier than before! Arm! arm! it is-it is the cannon's opening roar! Within a windowed niche of that high hall Sat Brunswick's fated chieftain; he did hear That sound the first amidst the festival, And caught its tone with Death's prophetic ear; And when they smiled because he deemed it near, His heart more truly knew that peal too well Which stretched his father on a bloody bier, And roused the vengeance blood alone could quell; He rushed into the field, and, foremost fighting, fell. Ah! then and there was hurrying to and fro And gathering tears, and tremblings of distress, And cheeks all pale, which but an hour ago Blushed at the praise of their own loveliness; And there were sudden partings, such as press The life from out young hearts, and choking sighs Which ne'er might be repeated; who could guess If ever more should meet those mutual eyes, 25 Since upon night so sweet such awful morn could rise? And there was mounting in hot haste; the steed, The mustering squadron, and the clattering car, Went pouring forward with impetuous speed, And swiftly forming in the ranks of war: And the deep thunder peal on peal afar; And near, the beat of the alarming drum Roused up the soldier ere the morning star; While thronged the citizens with terror dumb, Or whispering, with white lips, "The foe! They come! they come!" 5 And wild and high the "Cameron's Gathering" rose! 10 The war note of Lochiel, which Albyn's hills Have heard; and heard, too, have her Saxon foes: How in the noon of night that pibroch thrills, Savage and shrill! But with the breath which fills Their mountain pipe, so fill the mountaineers With the fierce native daring which instills The stirring memory of a thousand years, And Evan's, Donald's fame rings in each clansman's ears! And Ardennes waves above them her green leaves, Which, now beneath them, but above shall grow 15 20 |