Within a window'd niche of that high hall (1) "In pride of place" is a term of falconry, and means the highest pitch of flight. See Macbeth, &c.: "An eagle towering in his pride of place," &c. (2) See the famous song on Harmodius and Aristogiton. The best English translation is in Bland's Anthology, by Mr. (now Lord Chief-Justice) Denman : "With myrtle my sword will I wreathe," &c. (3) On the night previous to the action, it is said that a ball was given at Brussels. (1) My guide from Mont St. Jean over the field seemed intelligent and accurate. The place where Major Howard fell was not far from two tall and solitary trees (there was a third, cut down, or shivered, in the battle), which stand a few yards from each other at a pathway's side. Beneath these he died and was buried. The body has since been removed to England. A small hollow for the present marks where it lay, but will probably soon be effaced; the plough has been upon it, and the grain is. After pointing out the different spots where Picton and other gallant men had perished, the guide said, 'Here Major Howard lay: I was near him when wounded.' I told him my relationship, and he seemed then still more anxious to point out the particular spot and circumstances. The place is one of the most marked in the field, from the peculiarity of the two trees above mentioned. I went on horseback twice over the field, comparing it with my recollection of similar scenes. As a plain, Waterloo seems marked out for the scene of some great action, though this may be mere imagination. I have viewed with attention those of Platea, Troy, Mantines, Leuctra, Cheronea, and Marathon, and the field around Mont St. Jean and Hougoumont appears to want little but a better cause, and that undefinable but impressive halo which the lapse of ages throws around a celebrated spot, to vie in interest with any or all of these, except perhaps the last mentioned. (2) The (fabled) apples on the brink of the lake Asphaltes were said to be fair without, and within ashes. Vide Tacitus, Histor. lib. v. 7. 395 Such scorn of man had help'd to brave the shock Their admiration thy best weapon shone; For sceptred cynics earth were far too wide a den.1 XLII. But quiet to quick bosoms is a hell, And there hath been thy bane; there is a fire XLIII. This makes the madmen who have made men By their contagion! Conquerors and Kings, rule: XLIV. Their breath is agitation, and their life XLV. He who ascends to mountain-tops, shall find snow; He who surpasses or subdues mankind, And thus reward the toils which to those summits |