36 



THE EARLY DAYS OF 



about the place, and declaring he would fight the whole lot of us 

 all put together, single handed. 



I doubt whether Wellington, on that memorable day in June, 

 looked more anxiously in the direction whence Blucher was expected 

 to appear, than we"did to the corner of the road leading to the 



town. How slowly each minute 

 seemed to pass. But at length a 

 shrill cry went up in exultation, 

 "The Beadle! the Beadle!" and 

 if ever a scene was mentally photo- 

 graphed on mortal brain, that one 

 was fixed on mine. A gentle breeze 

 was blowing at the time, and the 

 appearance of the Beadle in cocked 

 hat, blue coat, red plush breeches, 

 white stockings, and pumps, the 

 flowing garments swelling out, and 

 floating in the gale behind, gave, in 

 the distance, an appearance of a 

 gaily decorated ship in full sail. 



The old man's hair was long, and 



white as snow, and he carried in his 



hand the staff of office, which ever 



and anon he brandished defiantly in 



the air above his head, whilst, in 



accents trembling from age, but 



certainly not from fear, glancing 



upwards to the high ground where 



we stood, in answer to our ringing cheers, he said, " I'm not afraid 



of him;" and then, shaking his head, he repeated the same 



encouraging words. 



The entire unwashed population of Marlborough town followed 

 in the old man's wake, whilst we now held our breath in expectation, 

 and wondered how it all would end. It was, indeed, an impressive 



THE BEADLE. 



