Join Host Bree Carlile as she reads the eighty-third chapter of Les Miserables.

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>> Speaker A: Take a look, in the book and let's see

what we can find.

Take it chapter by chapter. One

fight M at a time

so many adventures and

mountains we can climb

to give word for word, line by

line, one bite at a time.

>> Brie Carlisle: Welcome.

>> Brie Carlisle: To bite at a time books where we read you your favorite

classics one byte at a time. my name is Bre

Carlisle and I love to read and wanted to share

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>> Brie Carlisle: Values today well be

continuing.

Les Miserable by Victor Hugo

chapter 13 the

catastrophe the

route behind the guard was melancholy.

The army yielded suddenly on all sides at once.

Nuclearmon Lahaye M. Saint

Papelotte Plancineau the cry treachery

was followed by a cry of save yourselves who can.

An army which is disbanding is like a thaw.

All yields, splits, cracks,

floats, rolls, falls, jostles, hastens, is

precipitated. The disintegration is

unprecedented. Ney borrows a

horse, leaps upon it, and without

hat, cravat or sword, places himself

across the Brussels road, stopping both english and

French. He strives to detain the

army. he recalls it to its duty. He

insults it. He clings to the route. He is

overwhelmed. Soldiers fly from him,

shouting, long live Marshal Neyenne. two of derrets regiments

go and come in a fright, as though tossed back

and forth between the swords of the Uhlans and the fusillade

of the brigades of Kempt best pack and

reland. The worst of hand to hand

conflicts is the defeat. Friends kill

each other in order to escape. Squadrons and

battalions break and disperse against each other like the

tremendous foam of battle. Low Bao at one

extremity and rhael at the other are drawn

into the tide. In vain does Napoleon

erect walls from what is left to him of his guard.

In vain does he expend in a last effort, his last

serviceable squadrons. Quiot retreats before

Vivienne Kellerman, before Vandeleur

Lobau, before Bulow Mirand, before

Perch, domin and Sebaric, before Prince

William of Prussia. Goyet, who led the

emperors squadrons to the charge, falls beneath the feet of the english

dragoons. Napoleon gallops past the line

of fugitives. Harings, urges,

threatens, entreats them all. The

mouths which in the morning had shouted long live the

emperor remain gaping. They

hardly recognize him. The prussian

cavalry, newly arrived, dashes forwards,

flies hughes, slashes, kills,

exterminates horses lash out

the cannons flee. The soldiers of the

artillery train unharness the caissons and use the horses to make

their escape. Transports overturned

with all four wheels in the air, clog the road and occasion

massacres. Men are crushed,

trampled down, others walk over the dead, and the

living arms are lost.

A dizzy multitude fills the roads, the paths, the

bridges, the plains, the hills, the valleys, the woods

encumbered by this invasion of 40,000

mendenna. Shouts despair.

Knapsacks and guns flung among the rye,

passages forced at the point of the sword. No

more comrades, no more officers, no more

generals in inexpressible terror.

Zeiton, putting France to the sword at its leisure.

Lions converted into goats.

Such was the flight at Ah

Gianap. An effort was made to wheel about

to present a battle front to drop in line.

Lobau rallied 300 men. The entrance

to the village was barricaded, but at the first volley of prussian

canister, all took to flight again, and

Lobau was taken. That volley of

grapeshot can be seen today imprinted on the ancient gable of

a brick building on the right of the road, at a few minutes distance

before you enter Janap. The

Prussians threw themselves into Janap, furious,

no doubt, that they were not more entirely the

conquerors. The pursuit was

stupendous. Blucher ordered

extermination. Ruget had set the lugubrious

example of threatening with death any french grenadier who should bring

him a prussian prisoner. Blucher outdid

Rugate Dewasme, the general of the young

guard, hemmed in at the doorway of an inn at Genappe,

surrendered his sword to Hussar of death, who

took the sword and slew the prisoner.

The victory was completed by the assassination of the

vanquished. Let us inflict

punishment, since we are history. Old

Blucher disgraced himself. This

ferocity put the finishing touch to the disaster.

The desperate route traversed genappe, traversed quatre

bras, traversed gosely, traversed fresnes,

traversed Charleroi, traversed thuin, and only

halted at the frontier.

Alas. And who then was

fleeing in that manner? The grand

army. This vertigo,

this terror, this downfall into ruin of the loftiest

bravery which ever astounded history. Is

that causeless? No.

The shadow of an enormous right is projected Athwart

Waterloo. It is the day of destiny. the

force which is mightier than man produced that day.

Hence the terrified wrinkle of those brows,

hence all those great souls surrendering their

swords. Those who had conquered Europe had

fallen prone on the earth with nothing left to say nor

to do, feeling the present shadow of a terrible

presence. Hoch eret

infatise. That day, the

perspective of the human race underwent a change.

Waterloo is the hinge of the 19th century. The

disappearance of the great man was necessary to the advent of the

great century. Someone,

a person to whom one replies not, took the

responsibility on himself. The panic of heroes

can be explained in the battle of Waterloo.

There is something more than a cloud. There

is something of the meteor. God has

passed by. At nightfall, in

a meadow near Genappe, Bernard and Bertrand, seized by

the skirt of his coat and detained a man, haggard,

pensive, sinister, gloomy, who, dragged to

that point by the current of the route, had just

dismounted, had passed the bridle of his horse

over his arm, and with a wild eye was

returning alone to Waterloo. It was

Napoleon, the immense

somnambulist of this dream which had crumbled,

saying once more to advance.

Thank you for joining bite at a time books today while we

read a bite of one of your favorite classics.

Again, my name is Bree Carlisle and.

>> Brie Carlisle: I hope you come back tomorrow for.

>> Brie Carlisle: The next bite of, le miserable.

>> Brie Carlisle: Dont forget to sign up for our

newsletter@byteadatimebooks.com and

check out the shop. You can check out the show notes

or our website, biteadatimebooks.com

for the rest of the links for our show. wed love to hear from you

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>> Speaker A: Take a look and let's

see what we can find.

Take it chapter by chapter. One.