beginning of the day be imposed upon by a mere screen of troops.

We cannot here go into Ney's behaviour at Waterloo except to point out
that too little importance is generally given to the fact of the English
cavalry having, in a happy moment, fallen on and destroyed the artillery
which was being brought up to sweep the English squares at close
quarters. At Waterloo, as in so many other combats, the account of Ney's
behaviour more resembles that of a Homeric hero than of a modern general.
To the ideal commander of to-day, watching the fight at a distance,
calmly weighing its course, undisturbed except by distant random shots,
it is strange to compare Ney staggering through the gate of Konigsberg
all covered with blood; smoke and snow, musket in hand, announcing
himself as the rear-guard of France, or appearing, a second Achilles, on
the ramparts of Smolensko to encourage the yielding troops on the glacis,
or amidst the flying troops at Waterloo, with uncovered head and broken
sword, black with powder, on foot, his fifth horse killed under him,
knowing that life, honour, and country were lost, still hoping against
hope and attempting one more last desperate rally. If he had died--ah!
if he had died there--what a glorious tomb might have risen, glorious for
France as well as for him, with the simple inscription, "The Bravest of
the Brave."

Early on the 19th June a small band of officers retreating from the field
found Ney asleep at Marchiennes, "the first repose he had had for four
days," and they did not disturb him for orders. "And indeed what order
could Marshal Ney have given? "The disaster of the day, the overwhelming
horror of the flight of the beaten army, simply crushed Ney morally as
well as physically. Rising in the Chambers he denounced all attempt at
further resistance. He did not know, he would not believe, that Grouchy
was safe, and that the army was fast rallying. Fresh from the field,