watching a telegraph on the neighbouring rise, which told him what was going on on both sides.
We rode home together through Soignies forest—black. The twilight made the whole length of the road more pleasing. On reaching home, we found the coach was jogged; so much so that it would not allow us to put confidence in it, etc. At last we gave it into Mr. Gordon's hands. My friend has written twenty-six stanzas (?) to-day—some on Waterloo.
[There are a few points in this narrative of May 4 which call for a little comment.
1. As to "the spot where Colonel Howard, my friend's cousin, was buried before being carried to England." Few passages in the 3rd canto of Childe Harold, which in its opening deals with Byron's experiences in these days, are better known than the stanzas (29 to 31) where he celebrates the death of "young gallant Howard." Stanza 30 is the one most germane to our immediate purpose—
"There have been tears and breaking hearts for thee,
And mine were nothing, had I such to give.
But, when I stood beneath the fresh green tree
Which living waves where thou didst cease to live,
And saw around me the wide field revive
With fruits and fertile promise, and the Spring
Come forth her work of gladness to contrive,
With all her reckless birds upon the wing,
I turn'd from all she brought to those she could not bring."
2. The statement that "the coach was jogged"
