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THE FIELD OF WATERLOO

INTRODUCTORY NOTE

The brief Advertisement which was the sole preface Scott ever wrote to The Field of Waterloo intimates the circumstances under which it was written and the immediate purpose of its publication. 'It may be some apology for the imperfections of this poem, that it was composed hastily, and during a short tour upon the Continent, when the author's labors were liable to frequent interruption; but its best apology is, that it was written for the purpose of assisting the Waterloo Subscription.'

The battle of Waterloo was fought in June, 1815, and Scott, fired by a spirited letter from one of the surgeons on the field to a brother in Edinburgh, suddenly resolved in the middle of July to go to Brussels and visit the battle-field. As an illustration of the slowness of travel at that time it may be noted that though he and his companions left Edinburgh 28 July, they did not reach Harwich till 4 August, when they hired a boat to take them to Helvoetsluys. The excursion was minutely chronicled in the prose Paul's Letters to his Kinsfolk, and gave rise to some animated personal letters printed by Lockhart. The poem also appears to have been begun and indeed practically completed en

route.

Scott wrote to Mr. Morritt, under date of 2 October, 1815, the poem will be out this week, and you shall have a copy by the Carlisle coach, which pray judge favorably, and remember it is not always the grandest actions which are best adapted for the arts of poetry and painting. I believe I shall give offence to my old friends the Whigs, by not condoling with Buonaparte. Since his sentence of transportation, he has begun to look wonderfully comely in their eyes. I would they had hanged him, that he might have died a perfect Adonis.' Lockhart, at the close of chapter xxxv., gives a transcript of some notes written on the margin of the proof-sheets of the poem. John Ballantyne was at Abbotsford when the proof was ready, so his brother James sent the sheets

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to him with his own comments, and John etertained himself with recording below James's notes, the remarks which Scott made. Some of the more interesting of these points w be found in the Notes at the end of this vo

ume.

The timeliness of the publication, and its manner, for it appeared in October, 1815, in a small volume, gave it immediate popularity In writing to Lady Louisa Stuart, who had praised it enthusiastically, Scott was not dis posed to be much elated by his success: I need hardly say,' he writes, 'that your applanse is always gratifying to me, but more partienlarly so when it encourages me to hope I havege tolerably well out of a hazardous scrape. The Duke of Wellington himself told me there was nothing so dreadful as a battle won excepting only a battle lost. And lost or won, I can allswer for it, they are almost as severe upon bard who celebrates as the warrior who fights them. But I had committed myself in the present case, and like many a hot-headed had got into the midst of the fray without con sidering well how I was to clear myself out of it.' Scott went on in his letter to speak of the other tasks that had been employing him, concluding: If you ask me why I do these things, I would be much at a loss to give a good answer. I have been tempted to write for fame, and there have been periods when I have been compelled to write for money. Neither of these motives now exist - my fortune, though moderate, suffices my wishes, and I have heard so many blasts from the trumpet of Fame, both good and evil, that I am hardly tempted

solicit her notice anew.

man.

But the habit of

throwing my ideas into rhyme is not easily conquered, and so, like Dogberry, I go on

bestowing my tediousness upon the public. The poem was issued in a cheap form and quickly surpassed in circulation both of the two long poems which were freshest in the memory of readers, Rokeby and The Lord of the

Isles.

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It may be some apology for the imperfections of this poem, that it was composed hastily, and during a short tour upon the Continent, when the Author's labors were liable to frequent interruption; but its best apology is, that it was written for the purpose of assisting the Waterloo Subscription.

ABBOTSFORD, 1815.

I

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 tall 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
The adventurous foot-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.

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Now, see'st 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;

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Ay, look again - that line so black
And trampled marks the bivouac,
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.

VII

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That filled the chorus of the frayFrom cannon-roar and trumpet-bray, From charging squadrons' wild hurra,

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And where the earth seems scorched by From the wild clang that marked their

flame,

To dress the homely feast they came, And toiled the kerchiefed village dame Around her fire of straw.'

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When ceaseless from the distant line

Continued thunders came !

Each burgher held his breath to hear
These forerunners of havoc near,
Of rapine and of flame.

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What ghastly sights were thine to meet,
When, rolling through thy stately street,
The wounded showed their mangled plight
In token of the unfinished fight,
And from each anguish-laden wain
The blood-drops laid thy dust like rain!
How often in the distant drum
Heard'st thou the fell invader come,
While Ruin, shouting to his band,
Shook high her torch and gory brand!-
Cheer thee, fair city! From yon stand
Impatient still his outstretched hand

Points to his prey in vain,
While maddening in his eager mood
And all unwont to be withstood,

He fires the fight again.

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My steel-clad cuirassiers, advance ! Each Hulan forward with his lance,

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My Guard - my chosen charge for

France,

France and Napoleon!'

Loud answered their acclaiming shout,
Greeting the mandate which sent out
Their bravest and their best to dare
The fate their leader shunned to share.
But HE, his country's sword and shield,
Still in the battle-front revealed
Where danger fiercest swept the field,
Came like a beam of light,

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In action prompt, in sentence brief 'Soldiers, stand firm !' exclaimed the chief, 'England shall tell the fight!'

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In one dark torrent broad and strong
The advancing onset rolled along,
Forth harbingered by fierce acclaim,
That from the shroud of smoke and flame
Pealed wildly the imperial name.

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But if revolves thy fainter thought On safety howsoever bought

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Then turn thy fearful rein and ride,
Though twice ten thousand men have died
On this eventful day,
To gild the military fame

Which thou for life in traffic tame
Wilt barter thus away.
Shall future ages tell this tale
Of inconsistence faint and frail?
And art thou he of Lodi's bridge,
Marengo's field, and Wagram's ridge! 300
Or is thy soul like mountain-tide
That, swelled by winter storm and shower,
Rolls down in turbulence of power

A torrent fierce and wide;
Reft of these aids, a rill obscure,
Shrinking unnoticed, mean and poor,

Whose channel shows displayed
The wrecks of its impetuous course,
But not one symptom of the force
By which these wrecks were made! 310

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