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14. While downward on the land his legions press, feet, &c. of the cattle slaughtered for the soldiery; Before them it was rich with vine and Hock,

rice, vegetables, and bread, where it could be had, And .miled like Eden in her summer dress: Behind their wasteful march, a reeking wilderness, were purchased by the officers. Fifty or sixty stary. P. 374.

ing peasants were daily fed at one of these regi. I have ventured to apply to the movements of mental establishments, and carried home the rethe French army that sublime passage in the pro- lics to their famished households. The maciated phecies of Joel, which seems applicable to them wretches, who could not crawl from weakness, in more respects than that I have adopted in the were speedily employed in pruning their vides. text. One would think their ravages, their mili- While pursuing Masséna, the soldiers evinced the tary appointments, the terror which they spread same spirit of humanity, and, in many instances, among invaded nations, their military discipline, when reduced themselves to short allowance, from their arts of political intrigue and deceit, were having out-marched their supplies, they shared distinctly pointed out in the following verses of their pittance with the starving inhabitants who Scripture:

had ventured back to view the ruins of their habitae 2.'“ A day of darknesse and of gloominesse, a tions, burned by the retreating enemy, and to bury day of clouds and of thick darknesse, as the morn- the bodies of their relations whom they had butching spread upon the mountains: a great people ered. Is it possible to know such facts without feels and a strong, there hath not been ever the like, ing a sort of confidence, that those who so well deneither shall be any more after it, even to the serve victory are most likely to attain it!-- It is not years of many generations.

the least of lord Wellington's military merits, that 3. “ A fire devoureth before them, and behind the slightest disposition towards marauding meets them a flame burneth: the land is as the garden immediate punishment. Independently of all mom of Eden before them, and behinde them a desolateral obligation, the army which is most orderly in wildernesse, yea, and nothing shall escape them. a friendly country, bas always proved most formi.

4.“ The appearance of them is as the appear-dable to an armed enemy. ance of horses and as horsemen, so shall they runne. 16. Vainglorious fugitive'--P. 374. 5. « Like the noise of chariots on the tops of

ons of The French conducted this memorable retreat mountains shall they leap, like the noise of a with much of the fanfarronade proper to their flame of fire that devoureth the stubble, as a strong country, by which they attempt to impose upon people set in battle array.

others, and perhaps upon themselves, a belief that 6. ^ Before their face shall

be muc

they are triumphing in the very moment of their pained: all faces shall gather blacknesse.

discomfiture. On the 30th March, 1811, their rear7. “ They shall run like mighty men, they guard was overtaken near Pega by the British cashall climbe the wall like men of warre, and they valry. Being well posted, and conceiving themshall march every one in h

uselves safe from infantry, (who were indeed many not break their ranks.

miles in the rear,) and from artillery, they in8. “ Neither shall one trust another, they sball dulged themselves in parading their bands of muwalk every one in his path: and when they fall sic, and actually performed “God save the king." upon the sword they shall not be wounded. Their minstrelsy was however Jeranged by the

9. “ They shall run to and fro in the citie: they undesired accompaniment of the British borseshall run upon the wall, they shall climbe up upon

artillery, on whose part in the concert they had the houses; they shall enter in at the windows like not calculated. The surprise was sudden, and the a thief.

rout complete; for the artillery and cavalry did 90. The earth shall quake before them, the hea exerution upon them for about four miles, pursuvens shall tremble, the supne and the moon shall ing at the gallop as often as they got beyond the be dark, and the starres shall withdraw their shin- range of the gues. ing.”

17. Vainly thy squadrons hide Assuava's plain,

And front the flying thunders as they roar, In verse 20th also, which announces the retreat With frantic charge and ten-fold odds, in vain.-P. 374. of the northern army, described in such dreadful In the severe action of Fuentes d'Honoro, upon colours, into a “ land barren and desolate,” and 5th May, 1811, the grand mass of the French caval. the dishonour with which God afflicted them ry attacked the right of the British position, cofor having “ magnified themselves to do great vered by two guns of the horse-artillery, and two things,” there are particulars not inapplicable to squadrons of cavalry. After suffering considerably the retreat of Masséna; Divine Providence having, from the fire of the guns, which annoyed them in in all ages, attached disgrace as the natural pun- every attempt at formation, the enemy turned ishment of cruelty and presumption.

their wrath entirely towards them, distributed 15. The rudest sentinel, in Britain born,

brandy among their troopers, and advanced to car

ry the field-pieces with the desperation of drunken Gave his poor crust to feed some wretch forlorn.-P. 374.

füry. They were in no ways checked by the heavy Even the unexampled gallantry of the British loss which they sustained in this daring attemp, army in the campaign of 1810-11, although they but closed, and fairly mingled with the British never fought but to conquer, will do them less cavalry, to whom they bore the proportion of ten hovour in history than their humanity, attentive to one. Captain Ramsey, (let me be permitted to to soften to the utmost of their power the horrors name a gallant countryman,) who commanded the which war, in its mildest aspect, must always in-two guns, dismissed them ai the gallup, and, pulflict upon the defenceless inhabitants of the counting himself at the head of the mounted artillerytry in which it is waged, and which, on this oc- men, ordered them to fall upon the French, sabrecasion, were tenfold augmented by the barbarous in-hand. This very unexpected conversion of arcruelties of the French Soup-kitchens were esta- tillerymen into dragoons contributed greatly to blished by subseription among the officers, wher-the defeat of the enemy, already disconcerted by ever the iroops were quartered for any length of the reception they had met from the two British time. The commissaries contributed the heads, I squadrons; and the appearanoe of some small rein

forcements, notwithstanding the immense dispro- state of discipline. lo exposing his military repuportion of force, put them to absolute rout. A co-lation to the censure of imprudence from the most lonel or major of their cavalry, and many prisoners, moderate, and all manner of unutterable calumnies (almost all intoxicated,) remained in our posses from the ignorant and malignant, he placed at stake sion. Those who consider for a moment the dif- the dearest pledge which a military man had to ference of the services, and how much an artille-offer, and nothing but the deepest conviction of the ryman is necessarily and naturally led to identify high and essential importance attached to success his own safety and utility with abiding by the tre- can be supposed an adequate motive. How great mendous implement of war, to the exercise of the chance of miscarriage was supposed, may be which he is chiefly, if not exclusively, trained, will estimated from the general opinion of officers of know how to estimate the presence of mind which unquestioned talents and experience, possessed of commanded so bold a manœuvre, and the steadi- every opportunity of information; how completely ness and confidence with which it was executed. the experiment has succeeded, and how much the 18. And what avails thee that, for Cameron slain,

spirit and patriotism of our ancient allies had been Wild from his plaided ranks the yell was given.

| underrated, is evident, not only from those victoP. 374.

ries in which they have borne a distinguished The gallant colonel Cameron was wounded mor-share, but from the liberal and highly honourable tally during the desperate contest in the streets of manner in which these opinions have been retractthe village called Fuentes d'Honoro. He fell at ed. The success of this plan, with all its importhe head of his native highlanders, the 71st and 79th, tant consequences, we owe to the indefatigable exwho raised a dreadful shriek of grief and rage.ertions of field-marshal Beresford. They charged, with irresistible fury, the finest 20. - -a race renown'd of old, body of French grenadiers ever seen, being a part Whose war-cry oft has waked the battle-swell.-P. 375. of Bonaparte's selected guard. The officer who led This stanza alludes to the various achievements the French, a man remarkable for stature and of the warlike family of Grame, or Graham. They symmetry, was killed on the spot. The French- are said, by tradition, to bave descended from the man who stepped out of his raok to take aim at Scottish chief, under whose command this countrycolonel Cameron, was also bayoneted, pierced with men stormed the wall built by the emperor Sevea thousand wounds, and almost torn to pieces by rus between the firths of Forth and Clyde, the the furious highlanders, who, under the command fragments of which are still popularly called of colonel Cadogan, bore the enemy out of the Grame's dyke. Sir John the Gräme, “the hardly, contested ground at the point of the bayonet. Mas- wight, and wise,” is well known as the friend of sena pays my countrymen a singular compliment sir William Wallace. Alderne, Kilsyth, and Tibin his account of the attack and defence of this vil- bermuir, were scenes of the victories of the heroic lage, in which, he says, the British lost many of marquis of Montrose. The pass of Killy-crankie ficers, and Scotch.

is famons for the action between king William's 19. O who shall grudge him Albuera's bays,

forces and the highlanders in 1689, Who brought a race regenerate to the field,

“Where glad Dundee in faint huzzas expired.” Roused them to emulate their fathers' praise, Temper'd their headlong rage, their courage steeld. It is seldom that one line can number so many, P. 375.

beroes, and yet more rare when it can appeal to Nothing during the war of Portugal seems, to a the glory of a living descendant in support of its distinct observer, more deserving of praise, than ancient renown. the self-devotion of field-marshal Beresford, who The allusions to the private history and characwas contented to undertake all the hazard of oblo-ter of general Graham may be illustrated by requy which might have been founded upon any mis-ferring to the eloquent and affecting speech of Mr. carriage in the highly important experiment of Sheridan, upon the vote of thanks to the victor of training the Portuguese troops to an improved | Barosa,

The Field of Waterloo:


Though Valois braved young Edward's gentle hand,
And Albert rush'd on Henry's way-worn band,
With Europe's chosen sons in arms renown'd,
Yet not on Vere's bold archers long they look d,
Nor Audley's squires nor Mowbray's yeomen brook'd
They saw their standard fall, and left their monarch bound.-AKENSIDE.




FAIR Brussels, thou art far behind,
Though, lingering on the morning wind,
We yet may hear the hour

Pealed over orchard and canal,
With voice prolonged and measured fall,

From proud saint Michael's tower.
Thy wood, dark Soignies, holds us now,
Where the wall beeches' glossy bough

For many a league around,

With birch and darksome oak between,
Spreads deep and far a pathless screen,

Of tangled forest ground.
Stems planted close by stems defy
Th’adventurous fost-the curious eye

For access seeks in vain!
And the brown tapestry, of leaves,
Strewed on the blighted ground, receives

Nor sun, nor air, nor rain.
No opening glade dawns on our way,
No streamlet, glancing to the ray,

Our woodland path has crossed;
And the straight causeway which we tread
Prolongs a line of dull arcade,
Unvarying through the unvaried shade,
Until in distance lost.

A brighter, livelier scene succeeds;
In groups the scattering wood recedes,
Hedge-rows, and huts, and sunny meads,

And corn-fields glance between;
The peasant, at his labour blith,
Plies the hooked staff and shortened sithe;

But when these ears were green, Placed close within destruction's scope, Full little was that rustic's hope

Their ripening to have seen!
And, lo! a hamlet and its fane:
Let not the gazer with disdain

Their architecture view;
For yonder rude ungraceful shrine,
And disproportioned spire, are thine,
Immortal WATERLOO !

Fear not the heat, though full and high
The sun has scorched the autumn sky,
And scarce a forest straggler now
To shade us spreads a greenwood bough.
These fields have seen a hotter day
Than e'er was fired by sunny ray.
Yet one mile on-yon shattered hedge
Crests the soft hill whore long smooth ridge

Looks on the field below,
And sinks so gently on the dale,
That not the folds of Beauty's veil

In easier curves can flow.
Brief space from thence, the ground again,
Ascending slowly from the plain,

Forms an opposiog screen,
Which, with its crest of upland ground,
Shuts the horizon all around.

The softened yale between
Slopes smooth and fair for courser's tread;
Not the most timid maid need dread
To give her snow-white palfrey head

On that wide stubble-ground.
Nor wood, nor tree, nor bush are there,
Her course to intercept or scare,

Nor fosse nor fence are found,
Save where, from out her shattered bowers,
Rise Hougoumont's dismantled towers.

Now, seest thou aught in this lone scene
Can tell of that which late hath been?

A stranger might reply,
“ The bare extent of stubble-plain
Seems lately lightened of its grain;
And yonder sable tracks remain,
Marks of the peasant's ponderous wain,

When harvest-home was nigh.

On these broad spots of trampled ground,
Perchance the rustics danced such round

As Teniers loved to draw;
And where the earth seems scorched by flame,
To dress the homely feast they came,
And toiled the kerchiefed village dame
Around her fire of straw."-

So deem'st thou--s0 each mortal deems,
Or that which is from that which seems:

But other barvest here
Than that which peasant's sithe demands,
Was gathered in by sterner hands,

With bayonet, blade, and spear.
No vulgar crop was theirs to reap,
No stinted harvest thin and cheap!
Heroes before each fatal sweep

Fell thick as ripened grain;
And ere the darkening of the day,
Piled high as autumn shocks, there lay
The ghastly harvest of the fray,
The corpses of the slain.

Ay, look again that line so black
And trampled, marks the bivouack,
Yon deep-graved ruts, the artillery's track,

So often lost and, won;
And close beside, the hardened mud
Still shows where, fetlock-deep in blood,
The fierce dragoon, through battle's flood,

Dashed the hot war-horse on.
These spots of excavation tell
The ravage of the bursting shell-
And feel'st thou not the tainted steam,
That reeks against the sultry beam,

From yonder trenched mound?
The pestilential fumes declare
That carnage has replenished there
Her garner-house profound.

Far other harvest-home and feast,
Than claims the boor from sithe released,

On those scorched fields were known!
Death hovered o'er the maddening rout,
And, in the thrilling battle shout,
Sent for the bloody banquet out

A summons of his own.
Through roiling smoke the demon's eye
Could well each destined guest espy,
Well could his ear in ecstasy

Distinguish every lone
That filled the chorus of the fray-
From cannon-roar and trumpet-bray,
From charging squadrons' wild hurra,
From the wild clang that marked their way,

Down to the dying groan,
And the last sob of life's decay
When breath was all but flown.

Feast on, stern foe of mortal life,
Feast on!--but think not that a strife,
With such promiscuous carnage rife,

Protracted space my last;
The deadly tug of war at length
Must limits find in human strength,

And cease when these are passed.
Vain hope !--that morn's o'erclouded sun
Heard the wild shout of fight begun

Ere he attained his beight,
And through the war-smoke volumed high,
Still peals that unremitted ory,


Though now he stoops to night.

XII. For ten long hours of doubt and dread,

But on the British heart were lost Fresh succours from the extended head

The terrors of the charging host; Of either hill the contest fed;

For not an eye the storm that viewed Still down the slope they drew,

Changed its proud glance of fortitude, The charge of columns paused not,

Nor was one forward footstep staid, Nor ceased the storm of shell and shot;

As dropped the dying and the dead. For all that war could do,

Fast as their ranks the thunders tear, Of skill and force, was proved that day.

Fast they renewed each serried square; And turned not yet the doubtful fray

And on the wounded and the slain
On bloody Waterloo.

Closed their diminished files again,

Till from their line scarce spears' length throo,
Pale Brussels! then what thoughts were thine, 2 Emerging from the smoke they see
When ceaseless from the distant line

Helmet, and plume, and panoplyContinued thunders came!

Then waked their fire at once! Each burgher held his breath to hear

Each musketeer's revolving knell, These forerunners of havoc neur,

As fast, as regularly fell, Of rapine and of flame.

As when they practise to display What ghastly sights were thine to meet,

Their discipline on festal day. When rolling through thy stately street,

Then down went helm and lance, The wounded showed their mangled plight Down were the eagle banners sent, In token of the unfinished fight,

Down reeling steeds and riders went, And from each anguish-laden wain

Corslets were pierced, and pennons rent; The blood-drops laid thy dust like rain!

And to augment the fray, How often in the distant drum

Wheeled full against their staggering flanks, Heard'st thou the fell invader come,

The English horsemen's foaming ranks While ruin, shouting to his band,

Forced their resistless way. Shook high her torch and gory brand!

Then to the musket-knell succeeds Cheer thee, fair city! from yon stand,

The clash of swords—the neigh of steeds Impatient, still his outstretched hand

As plies the smith his clanging trade, Points to his prey in vain,

Against the cuirass rang the blade;6 While maddening in his eager mood,

And while amid their close array And all unwont to be withstood,

The well-served cannon rent their way, He fires the fight again.

And while amid their scattered bands

Raged the fierce rider's bloody brand, « On! On!” was still his stern exclaim,

Recoiled in common rout and fear, “ Confront the battery's jaws of flame!

Lancer, and guard, and cuirassier, Rush on the levelled gun!3

Horsemen and foot--a mingled host, My steel-clad cuirassiers, advance!

Their leaders fall'n, their standards lost.
Each Hulan forward with his lance,

My guard---my chosen-charge for France, Then, WELLINGTON! thy piercing eye
France and Napoleon!”

This crisis caught of destiny.
Loud answered their acclaiming shout,

The British host had stood Greeting the mandate which sent out

That morn 'gainst charge of sword and lance, Their bravest and their best to dare

As their own ocean-rocks hold stance, The fate their leader shunned to share.

But when thy voice had said, “ Advance!” But he, his country's sword and shield,

They were their ocean's flood. Still in the battle-front revealed,

O thou, whose inauspicious aim Where danger fiercest swept the field,

Hath wrought thy host this hour of shame, Came like a beam of light,

Think'st thou thy broken bands will bide In action prompt, in sentence brief

The terrors of yon rushing tide? “ Soldiers, stand firm!” exclaimed the chief, Or will thy chosen brook to feel “England shall tell the fight!"

The British shock of levelled steel!?

Or dost thou turn thine eye
On came the whirlwind-like the last

Where coming squadrons gleam afar,
But fiercest sweep of tempest blast-

And fresher thunders wake the war,
On came the whirlwind-steel gleams broke And other standards fly?
Like lightning through the rolling smoke.

Think not that in yon columns file 'The war was waked anew;

Thy conquering troops from distant DyleThree hundred cannon-mouths roared loud, Is Blucher yet unknown And from their throats, with flash and cloud, Or dwells not in thy memory still, Their showers of iron threw.

(Heard frequent in thine hour of ill,). Beneath their fire, in full career,

What notes of hate and vengeance thrill Rushed on the ponderous cuirassier,

lo Prussia's trumpet tone? The lancer couched his ruthless spear,

What yet remains? —shall it be thine And hurrying as to havoc near,

To head the relics of thy line The cohorts' eagles flew.

In one dread effort more! In one dark torrent, broad and strong,

The Roman lore thy leisure loved, The advancing onset rolled along,

And thou can'st tell what fortune proved Fortb harbingered by fierce acclaim,

That chieftain, who, of yore, That from the shroud of smoke and flame,

Ambition's dizzy paths essayed, Pealed wildly the imperial name.

And with the gladiator's aid

For empire enterprised-

And now, o'er thy devoted head He stood the cast his rashness played,

The last stern vial's wrath is shed, Left not the victims he had made,

The last dread seal is broke. Dug his red grave with his own blade,

XVI. And on the field he lost was laid,

Since live thou wilt--refuse not now
Abhorred-but not despised.

Before these demagogues to bow,

Late objects of thy scorn and hate,
But if revolves thy fainter thought

Who shall thy once imperial fate On safety--howsoever bought,

Make wordy theme of vain debate.-
Then turn thy fearful rein and ride,

Or shall we say, thou stoop 'st less lov
Though twice ten thousand nien have died In seeking refuge from the foe,
On this eventful day,

Against whose heart, in prosperous life, To gild the military fame,

Thine hand hath ever held the knife! Which thou, for life, in traffick tame

Such homage hath been paid Wilt barter thus away.

By Roman and by Grecian voice, Shall future ages tell this tale

And there were honour in the choice, Of inconsistence faint and frail?

If it were freely made. And art thou he of Lodi's bridge,

Then safely come in one so low, Marengo's field, and Wagram's ridge!

So lost-we cannot own a foe; Or is thy soul like mountain-tide,

Though dear experience bid us end, That, swelled by winter storm and shower, In thee we ne'er can hail a friend. Rolls down in turbulence of power

Come, howsoe'er-but do not hide A torrent fierce and wide;

Close in thy heart that germ of pride, Reft of these aids, a rill obscure,

Erewhile by gifted bard espied, Shrinking unnoticed, mean, and poor,

That's yet imperial bope;" Whose channel shows displayed

Think noi that for a fresh rebound, The wrecks of its impetuous course,

To raise ambition from the ground, But not one symptom of the force

We yield thee means or scope.
By which these wrecks were made.

In safety come-but ne'er again

Hold type of independent reign;
Spur on thy way!-since now thine ear

No islet calls thee lord, Has brooked thy veterans' wish to hear,

We leave thee no confederate band, Who, as thy fight they eyed,

No symbol of thy lost command, Exclaimed-while tears of anguish came,

To be a dagger in the hand Wrung forth by pride, and rage, and shame

From which we wrenched the sword. « Oh that he had but died!

XVIII. But yet, to sum this hour of ill,

Yet, e'en in yon sequestered spot, Look, ere thou leav'st the fatal hill,

May worthier conquest be thy lot Back on yon broken ranks

Than yet thy life has known; Upon whose wild confusion gleams

Conquest, unbought by blood or harm, The moon, as on the troubled streams

That needs not foreign aid nor arm, When rivers break their banks,

A triumph all thine own. And, to the ruined peasant's eye,

Such waits thee when thou shalt control Objects half seen roll swiftly by,

Those passions wild, that stubborn soul, Down the dread current hurled-

That marred thy prosperous scene: So mingle banner, wain, and gun,

Hear this--from no unmoved heart, Where the tumultuous flight rolls on

Which sighs, comparing what thou art Of warriors, who, when morn begun,

With what thou might'st have been! Defied a banded world.


Thou, too, whose deeds of fame renewed List-frequent to the hurrying rout,

Bankrupt a nation's gratitude, The stern pursuers' vengeful shout

To thine own noble heart must owe Tells, that upon their broken rear

More than the meed she can bestow. Rages the Prussian's bloody spear.

For not a people's just acclaim, So fell a shriek was none,

Not the full hail of Europe's fame, When Beresina's icy flood

Thy prince's smiles, thy state's decree, Reddened and thawed with flame and blood, The ducal rauk, the gartered knee, And, pressing on thy desperate way,

Not these such pure delight afford, Raised oft and long their wild hurra,

As that, when, hanging up thy sword, The children of the Don.

Well may'st thou think, i. This honest steel Thine car no yell of horror cleft

Was ever drawn for public weal; So ominous, when, all bereft

And, such was rightful heaven's decree, Of aid, the valiant Polack left

Ne'er sheathed unless with victory!” Ay, left by thee-found soldier's grave

XX. In Leipsic's corse-encumbered wave.

Look forth, once more, with softened heart Fate, in these various perils past,

Ere from the field of fame we part; Reserved thee still some future cast;

Triumph and Sorrow border near, In the dread die thou now hast thrown

And Joy oft melts into a tear. Hangs not a single field alone,

Alas! what links of love that moin Nor one campaign--thy martial fame,

Has War's rude hand asupder torn! Thy empire, dynasty, and name,

For ne'er was field so sternly fought, Have felt the final stroke;

And ne'er was conquest dearer bought

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