The Shadow of the Sword
by Robert Buchanan
1876
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Contents
* Preface
* Proem
* Chapter 1 - Full sunshine
* Chapter 2 - Rohan and Marcelle
* Chapter 3 - Rohan's cathedral
* Chapter 4 - The menhir
* Chapter 5 - Master Arfoll
* Chapter 6 - "Rachel, mourning for her children"
* Chapter 7 - Corporal Derval defends his colours
* Chapter 8 - The corporal's fireside
* Chapter 9 - St. Napoleon
* Chapter 10 - At the fountain
* Chapter 11 - The red angel
* Chapter 12 - Corporal Derval harangues the conscripts
* Chapter 13 - The drawing of lots. "One!"
* Chapter 14 - A day at sea
* Chapter 15 - "The king of the conscripts?"
* Chapter 16 - A good man's blessing
* Chapter 17 - In the stormy night
* Chapter 18 - The prayers of two women
* Chapter 19 - Down by the shore
* Chapter 20 - "The pool of the blood of Christ"
* Chapter 21 - The dream
* Chapter 22 - Mikel Grallon
* Chapter 23 - Corporal Derval gallops his hobby
* Chapter 24 - "A terrible death'
* Chapter 25 - The June festival--an apparition
* Chapter 26 - Mikel Grallon makes a discovery
* Chapter 27 - The hue and cry
* Chapter 28 - On the cliffs
* Chapter 29 - The faces in the cave
* Chapter 30 - A parley
* Chapter 31 - In the cave
* Chapter 32 - A siege in miniature
* Chapter 33 - Hunger and cold
* Chapter 34 - A four-footed Christian
* Chapter 35 - Vigil
* Chapter 36 - Victory
* Chapter 37 - The mirage of Leipsic
* Chapter 38 - "Home they brought their warrior dead"
* Chapter 39 - "A chapel of hate"
* Chapter 40 - Introduces a scarecrow of glory
* Chapter 41 - Glimpses of a dead world
* Chapter 42 - The aqueduct
* Chapter 43 - "The night of the dead"
* Chapter 44 - Deluge
* Chapter 45 - "Mid waters wild"
* Chapter 46 - Marcelle
* Chapter 47 - The growing of the cloud
* Chapter 48 - "Vive le roi!"
* Chapter 49 - The corporal's cup is full
* Chapter 50 - The hero of the hour
* Chapter 51 - Breathing-space
* Chapter 52 - Resurgam!
* Chapter 53 - "Ibi omnis effusis labor!"
* Chapter 54 - The last chance
* Chapter 55 - The beginning of the end
* Chapter 56 - Uncle Ewen gets his furlough
* Chapter 57 - Bonaparte
* Chapter 58 - "Sic semper tyrannus"
* Epilogue
Preface to the new edition
In issuing a new edition of "The Shadow of the Sword," my publishers have asked me to introduce it with a few lines of preface. This I do the more willingly, as it gives me an opportunity of thanking the Critics of the Newspaper Press of England for the generous way in which they have received this and my subsequent attempts in fiction.
"The Shadow of the Sword" is a polemic against War, against the institution which, above all others, is the disgrace and scourge of modern civilization. But what am I saying? I write this preface in the near neighbourhood of Shoeburyness, where our English artillerymen have been recently experimenting, at the expense of the public pocket and of the town windows, with the new 80-ton gun. I forget exactly how many pounds sterling every discharge of this cheerful invention costs the people of England, or how much they are mulcted for the experimental cannonade which takes place daily at Shoeburyness and other havens of unrest, made hideous for us by a quasi-military government. And I have before me as I write the beautiful wall-almanack for 1883, owned by the pious proprietors of a newspaper called the Christian Herald, and containing, together with portraits of leading divines, a picture of the hero of Egypt, Sir Garnet Wolseley. Other signs in every land convince me of the perfect condition of our boasted Christian civilization. It is cheering also to reflect that even Liberals have been impelled to adopt the programme of imperialism, and stimulate the enthusiasm of Egyptian bondholders by a glorious victory over helpless fellow-creatures in the East. The Bible, the sword, and the ambulance waggon are triumphant, and the religion of Christ prevails. Only one step further, surely, would be needed, to reach the Millennium; and that step would be taken if our rulers would only listen to the voice of Christian opinion, expressed in so many comfortable circles, and cicatrize the old wounds of refractory Ireland--with powder and shot!
But this subject, after all, is too sad a one to be sarcastic upon. I am face to face with the horrible truth that War is still a reality, and will be a reality so long as it is tolerated, under any circumstances or under any name, by the preachers of Christianity--among which preachers I include, as by far the most powerful, the members of the fourth estate. In the nineteenth century, War should be simply impossible. That it is possible
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