The Powers of Europe and Fall of SebastopolHiggins and Bradley, 1857 - 404 pages |
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allies arms arrived artillery assault attack Austrian Badajos Balaklava battalions batteries battle battle of Inkerman besieged brave brigade British British army cavalry charge columns command commenced Constantinople contest courage Crimea Czar Danube dead death defence division Duke Emperor empire enemy England English Eupatoria Europe fell fire Fitzroy Somerset fleet force France French army garrison ground guard guns harbor heights hill honor horse hundred infantry inhabitants killed king lines Lord Raglan miles military Moldavia morning mountain Murids musketry Napoleon night o'clock occupied officers opened Pacha position possession prisoners ranks reached redoubt regiment retire retreat river road round shot Russians Saragossa scarcely scene Schamyl Sebastopol shell ships shot side siege Silistria soldiers soon Soult Spain Spanish starost struggle success Sultan thousand tion took town treaty troops Turkey Turkish Turks valley victory village Wallachia Wellington whole wounded yards
Popular passages
Page 205 - 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...
Page 97 - But he lay like a warrior taking his rest With his martial cloak around him. Few and short were the prayers we said, And we spoke not a word of sorrow But we steadfastly gazed on the face that was dead, And we bitterly thought of the morrow.
Page 206 - twas but the wind, Or the car rattling o'er the stony street; On with the dance! let joy be unconfined; No sleep till morn, when Youth and Pleasure meet To chase the glowing Hours with flying feet But hark!
Page 97 - By the struggling moonbeam's misty light, And the lantern dimly burning. No useless coffin enclosed his breast, Nor in sheet nor in shroud we wound him ; But he lay like a warrior taking his rest, With his martial cloak around him. Few and short were the prayers we said, And we spoke not a word of sorrow ; But we steadfastly gazed on the face of the dead, And we bitterly thought of the morrow.
Page 97 - Lightly they'll talk of the spirit that's gone, And o'er his cold ashes upbraid him ; — But little he'll reck, if they let him sleep on, In the grave where a Briton has laid him. But half of our heavy task was done When the clock struck the hour for retiring; And we heard the distant and random gun That the foe was sullenly firing. Slowly and sadly we laid him down, From the field of his fame fresh and gory; We carved not a line, and we raised not a stone — But we left him alone with his glory!
Page 206 - Ah ! then and there was hurrying to and fro, And gathering tears, and tremblings of distress, And cheeks all pale, which but an hour ago Blushed at the praise of their own loveliness ; And there were sudden partings, such as press The life from out young hearts, and choking sighs Which ne'er might be repeated : who could guess If ever more should meet those mutual eyes, Since upon night so sweet such awful morn could rise...
Page 96 - I hope the People of England will be satisfied! - I hope my Country will do me justice!
Page 257 - Minister of God, to execute the divine commands, and consequently disobedience to the Emperor, is identified with disobedience to God himself; that God will reward us in the world to come, for the worship and obedience we render the Emperor, and punish us severely to all eternity, should we disobey, or neglect to worship him.
Page 221 - ... drawn sabre, at the head of his men. In vain did the artillery hurl its storm of fire and lead into that living mass. Up to the very muzzles they pressed, and driving the artillerymen from their own pieces, pushed on through the English lines.
Page 236 - Christian to cut off my head?" and his last fear was that of falling alive into the hands of the infidels. The prudent despair of Constantine cast away the purple: amidst the tumult he fell by an unknown hand, and his body was buried under a mountain of the slain.