"Hurrah for the Rangers, hurrah! hurrah!
Here's to the corps that we love so well;
Ever the first in the deadly fray,
Steady and firm amid shot and shell.
Scattered as skirmishers out in the front,
Contesting each foot of the ground we hold,
Nor yielding a step though we bear the brunt
Of the first attack of the foeman bold.
Hurrah for the Rangers, hurrah! hurrah!
Here's to the corps that we love so well;
Ever the first in the deadly fray,
Steady and firm amid shot and shell.
"Steady boys, steady, the foe falls back,
Sullenly back to the beat of the drum,
Hark to the thunder that nears our flank
Rally in square, boys, their cavalry come.
Squadron on squadron, wave upon wave,
Dashing along with an ocean's force,
But they break into spray on our bayonets' points,
And we mock at the fury of rider and horse.
Hurrah for the Rangers, &c.
"The gunner may boast of the death he deals
As he shatters the foe with his iron hail,
And may laugh with pride as he checks the charge,
Or sees the dark column falter and quail.
But the gunner fights with the foe afar,
In the rear of the line is the battery's place,
The Ranger fights with a sterner joy
For he strives with his foemen face to face.
Hurrah for the Rangers, &c.
"The cavalry man is dashing and gay,
His steed is fast, and his blade is fine,
He blithely rides to the fiercest fray,
And cuts his way through the foeman's line,
But the wild, fierce joys of the deadly breach,
Or the patient pluck of the serried square
Are far away from the horseman's reach,
While the Norfolk Rangers are sure to be there.
Hurrah for the Rangers, &c."
Long, loud, and hearty was the cheering as the last chorus concluded. "Very good song, very well sung, jolly companions every one," shouted the doctor. "Now, Manley, keep the ball rolling, give us the 'The Bivouac,'" Captain Manley emptied his glass, and, without hesitation, began—
THE BIVOUAC.
"The weary march is over, boys, the camp fire's burning bright,
So gather round the blazing logs, we'll keep high feast to-night,
For every heart is full of joy, and every cheek aglow,
That after months of waiting, at last we meet the foe.
To-morrow's sun will see the fight, and ere that sun goes down,
Our glorious flag another wreath of victory shall crown.
Hurrah, hurrah for the bivouac,
With comrades tried and true,
With faces bright, and spirits light,
And the foemen's fires in view.
"Then fill your cups with Spanish wine, and let the toast go round,
Here's a health to all who love us on dear old England's ground.
Be their tresses gold or auburn, or black as ebon's hue,
Be their eyes of witching hazel, loving gray, or heaven's blue,
Here's to them all, the girls we love, God bless them every one;
May we all be here to toast them when to-morrow's work is done.
Hurrah, hurrah, &c.
"But whate'er to-morrow bring us, it shall shed no gloom to-night,
For a British soldier does not flinch from thought of death in fight;
No better ending could we wish, no worthier do we know,
Than to fall for King and country, with our face towards the foe;
And if we go, our friends who stay will keep our memory bright,
And will drink to us in silence by many a camp-fire's light.
Hurrah, hurrah, &c."
When the last chorus had ceased, the boys, who had had a long march that morning, and were thoroughly tired, stole quietly off to bed, but it was not till long after they had gone to sleep that the jovial party round the fire broke up, and that Sam was relieved from his duties of concocter of punch.
CHAPTER XII. — BUSACO AND TORRES VEDRAS.
Instead of pressing forward upon his invasion of Portugal, Massena prepared to besiege Almeida, and for a month the British and Portuguese army remained in their position within a few hours' march of that town. Wellington expected that Almeida would be able to resist for two months, and hoped to find some opportunity for falling suddenly upon the besiegers; but even a resistance of two months would have made it so late in the season that Massena must have postponed his invasion until the next spring.
Upon the morning of the 26th of August the French batteries opened fire, and from Guarda the dull, heavy roar of artillery could be heard all day. As darkness fell, the officers of the Rangers were, as usual, assembling round their fire, when the earth seemed to shake beneath their feet, and a flash like that of summer lightning lit the eastern sky. "What can that be?" was the general exclamation. A minute later, and a deep, heavy, prolonged roar sounded in their ears—then all was quiet.