"At half-past three on the morning of June 15, 1815, Napoleon's outposts crossed the frontier. On the evening of the 15th, Wellington attended the famous ball in Brussels, the best remembered social function, perhaps, in history, at the Duchess of Richmond's house." This house has been pulled down, but the guides still point out the spot. While the dancing was going on, despatches were brought to the Duke, and he asked to see the map. On looking at it he exclaimed, "Napoleon has humbugged me. He has gained twenty-four hours' march on me. I must fight him here." He put his nail on the map. The scratch that was left was "the first scar of Waterloo." "Amongst the dead on the field at Quatre Bras, were officers who still wore the pumps and silk stockings of the ball room." Ligny and Quatre Bras were fought on the 16th, and Wellington's masterly retreat to Waterloo occupied the following day. Then came that memorable June 18th, the story of which thrills us even today. French daring was matched with British tenacity. Wellington was perfect master of the situation, and--he knew Blücher would come. But Napoleon had lost his grip. This was a day of hard fighting and terrible losses. "A little after seven o'clock Napoleon prepared to fling his last card on the iron table of the battlefield; he would send forward his bearskins, the Old Guard, the final bid for victory." This, too, was in vain. "The Guard gives way," was the cry that rose everywhere. The first column was retreating on La Belle Alliance, the second was being driven across the road to Brussels. From the woods near Hougomont, down the slopes below La Haye Sainte, the French fled in wild confusion. "At the same moment Napoleon saw his whole line of battle fall to pieces." "Napoleon in his flight crossed the battlefield of Quatre Bras. It was still strewn with the unburied slain, nearly four thousand corpses stripped quite naked by plunderers; and with what feelings Napoleon in the darkness of the night rode through those acres of the slain may be guessed. He drew rein for a moment in that field of the dead, and one who stood near him records how 'his face was pale as wax and the tears ran down his cheeks'--and thus across the useless battlefields of that terrible campaign Napoleon fled on his way to Paris--and beyond it to St. Helena."[2] [2] From "The Great Duke." CHAPTER VI BELGIAN KINGS