memorable occasion, the least deficiency in personal courage; on the contrary, he evinced the greatest composure and presence of mind during the whole action. But it is no less true that report has erred in ascribing to him any desperate efforts of valour for recovery of the battle; and it is remarkable that during the whole carnage, none of his suite were either killed or wounded, whereas scarcely one of the Duke of Wellington's personal attendants escaped unhurt. NOTE V. England shall tell the fight!-P. 622. In riding up to a regiment which was hard pressed, the Duke called to the men, 'Soldiers, we must never be beat,-what will they say in England?' It is needless to say how this appeal was answered. NOTE VI. As plies the smith his clanging trade. A private soldier of the 95th regiment compared the sound which took place immediately upon the British cavalry mingling with those of the enemy, to a thousand tinkers at work mending pots and kettles.' NOTE VII. The British shock of levell'd steel.-P. 623. No persuasion or authority could prevail upon the French troops to stand the shock of the bayonet. The Imperial Guards, in particular, hardly stood till the British were within thirty yards of them, although the French author, already quoted, has put into their mouths the magnanimous sentiment, 'The Guards never yield-they die.' The same author has covered the plateau, or eminence, of St. Jean, which formed the British position, with redoubts and retrenchments which never had an existence. As the narrative, which is in many respects curious, was written by an eye-witness, he was probably deceived by the appearance of a road and ditch which run along part of the hill. It may be also mentioned, in criticising this work, that the writer mentions the Château of Hougomont to have been carried by the French, although it was resolutely and suc. cessfully defended during the whole action. The enemy, indeed, possessed themselves of the wood by which it is surrounded, and at length set fire to the house itself; but the British (a detachment of the Guards, under the command of Colonel Macdonnell, and afterwards of Colonel Home) made good the garden, and thus preserved, by their desperate resistance, the post which covered the return of the Duke of Wellington's right flank. Wild she arraigns the eternal doom, She beat her breast, she wrung her hands, Till sun and day were o'er, And through the glimmering lattice shone The twinkling of the star. Then, crash! the heavy drawbridge fell The clank of echoing steel was heard And hark! and hark! a knock-tap! tap! A rustling stifled noise; Door-latch and tinkling staples ring; At length a whispering voice: 'Awake, awake, arise, my love! How, Helen, dost thou fare? Wak'st thou, or sleep'st? laugh'st thou, or weep'st? Hast thought on me, my fair?' 'My love! my love !-so late by night! 'We saddle late-from Hungary 'O rest this night within my arms, And warm thee in their fold! Chill howls through hawthorn bush the wind: My love is deadly cold.' Tramp! tramp! along the land they rode, Splash! splash! along the sea; The scourge is wight, the spur is bright, The flashing pebbles flee. Fled past on right and left how fast Each forest, grove, and bower! On right and left fled past how fast Each city, town, and tower! 'Dost fear? dost fear? The moon shines clear, Dost fear to ride with me? Hurrah! hurrah! the dead can ride!' 'O William, let them be! 'See there, see there! What yonder swings, And creaks 'mid whistling rain?' 'Gibbet and steel, th' accursed wheel; A murderer in his chain. 'Hollo! thou felon, follow here: To bridal bed we ride; And thou shalt prance a fetter dance Before me and my bride.' And, hurry! hurry! clash! clash! The wasted form descends; 'Dost fear? dost fear? The moon shines clear, And well the dead can ride; Does faithful Helen fear for them?' 'O leave in peace the dead!' 'Barb! barb! methinks I hear the cock; Tramp! tramp! along the land they rode, Splash! splash! along the sea; The scourge is red, the spur drops blood, The flashing pebbles flee. 'Hurrah! hurrah! well ride the dead; Reluctant on its rusty hinge Revolved an iron door, And by the pale moon's setting beam With many a shriek, and cry, whiz round The birds of midnight, scared; And rustling like autumnal leaves Unhallow'd ghosts were heard. O'er many a tomb and tombstone pale Tramp! tramp! along the land they | Till sudden at an open grave |