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The Bat

The Battle of Blenheim

It was a summer evening—
Old Kaspar’s work was done,
And he before his cottage door
Was sitting in the sun;
And by him sported on the green
His little grandchild Wilhelmine.

She saw her brother Peterkin
Roll something large and round;
Which he beside the rivulet,
In playing there, had found;
Hecame to ask what he had found,
That was so large, and smooth, and round.

Old Kaspar took it from the boy,
Who stood expectant by;
And then the old man shook his head,
And, with a natural sigh—
“Tis some poor fellow’s skull,” said he,
“Who fell in the great victory.

“I find them in the garden,
For there’s many here about;
And often when I go to plow
The plowshare turns them out;
For many thousand men,” said he,
“Were slain in the great victory.”

“Now tell us what ‘twas all about,”
Young Peterkin he cries;
And little Wilhelmine looks up
With wonder-waiting eyes—
“Now tell us all about the war,
And what they fought each other for."

“My father lived at Blenheim then
Yon little stream hard by;
They burnt his dwelling to the ground
And he was forced to fly;
So with his wife and child he fled,
Nor had he where to rest his head.

With fire and sword the country round
Was wasted far and wide;
And many a childing mother there,
And new-born baby died:
But things like these, you know, must be
At every famous victory.