Three o’clock pealed from the steeple-bells. All was now quiet; the brigades, with their artillery and equipage, were gone, the crash of music was heard no longer, the bustle of preparation had ceased, and an ominous and heart-sinking silence succeeded the noise and hurry ever attendant on a departure for the field of battle.
These incidents have been so beautifully described by Byron, that we cannot resist the temptation to quote the passage:
“There was a sound of revelry by night,
And Belgium’s capital had gathered then,
Her beauty and her chivalry, and bright
The lamps shone o’er fair women and brave men.
A thousand hearts beat happily; and when
Music arose with its voluptuous swell,
Soft eyes looked love to eyes which spake again,
And all went merry as a marriage bell.