Chapter 1
Once upon a time, it matters little when, and in stalwart England, it matters
little where, a fierce battle was fought. It was fought upon a long
summer day when the waving grass was green. Many a wild flower
formed by the Almighty Hand to be a perfumed goblet for the dew, felt
its enamelled cup filled high with blood that day, and shrinking
dropped. Many an insect deriving its delicate colour from harmless
leaves and herbs, was stained anew that day by dying men, and marked
its frightened way with an unnatural track.