They were married in Yaxley Church in the presence of a crowded congregation. More than half the people who attended could see nothing because of the bullock-boxes: but they
were there, and their hearts too. And when the grand old bells pealed forth a joyous welcome, the bridegroom could hardly repress a tear (only one!) for they reminded him how often the merry sound that now so truly harmonized with his over-brimming joy, had seemed of old to mock his misery as he listened to them from within his prison walls.
* * * * *
Their happy union, to compare small things with great, may be taken as an emblem of the entente cordiale that ought ever to subsist between the two countries of France and England, and which can only be jeopardized by that rabid journalism which, with slight occasion, or none at all, seems always to take delight in doing its utmost to “let loose the dogs of war.”
One word more.
The two stone bosses which for many years have capped the piers of the west gateway of Yaxley Churchyard, formerly occupied the
same position on the piers of the principal entrance to the Norman Cross Barracks. And when the poor prisoners of old passed between them, they were entering the place of captivity and grief and hopelessness. But now, as the good Yaxley people pass between the same bosses to go into their noble House of Prayer, they may rejoice in the thought that they are entering the place where liberty and peace and everlasting hope await them as the gift of God, through Jesus Christ their Saviour.
THE END.
Footnotes:
[17] See account of the battle of Vimiero in Napier’s History of the Peninsular War, Book II, Chapter V.