He, who in concert with an earthly string Of Britain’s acts would sing, He with enraptured voice will tell Of One whose spirit no reverse could quell; Of One that ’mid the failing never failed— Who paints how Britain struggled and prevailed Shall represent her labouring with an eye Of circumspect humanity; Shall show her clothed with strength and skill All martial duties to fulfil; Firm as a rock in stationary fight; In motion rapid, as the lightning’s gleam; Fierce as a flood-gate bursting at midnight To rouse the wicked from their giddy dream— Woe, woe to all that face her in the field! Appalled she may not be, and cannot yield. WORDSWORTH. The first place to which our troops fell back (fighting hard all the way) was Cambrai, where cambric was first made, and where, in days of peace, much exquisitely fine linen is still woven. Cambrai and Le Cateau are practically one, and a very fierce engagement took place there. Here I must tell you of a brave Englishwoman who had lived for fifteen years at Le Cateau. She kept a little restaurant, and during these terrible hours when such hard fighting was going on close to the town she went on cooking eggs and bacon for her fellow-countrymen. Both her French friends and the English soldiers begged her to leave the town, but, as only answer, she observed that she wouldn’t move “for all the Germans.” It is to be hoped that her little house was saved, but the English soldier, who told the story of her pluck, fears that it must have been destroyed. At the Battle of Cambrai, the charge of the 12th Lancers and Royal Scots Greys is said to have been the equal of anything seen at Waterloo. Indeed finer; for at Waterloo, in one cavalry charge at any rate, the men, after their first success, got out of hand, went too far, and suffered grievously in consequence. An heroic passage of arms, in which the 2nd Battalion Connaught Rangers were concerned, was splendidly described by a private in a letter home: “It was understood we were to pass the night at Cambrai, but we got a report that the Germans were approaching, and were close on us. Every man was called to stand to arms, and soon the German shells were falling amongst us. Our colonel was a perfect gentleman, and under his gallant lead the Rangers set a bold front. In the midst of the bursting of the German projectiles his clear, stentorian voice rang out: ‘Rangers of Connaught, all eyes are upon you to-night. While you have fists and a heart within you, charge them. If you don’t, never face me in this world nor in the next!’