(ttmntll Uttfotwtig ji ;itaeg ME FUND 3[$JJfM.. BOUGHT WITH THE INCO FROM THE SAGE ENDOWMENT THE GIFT OF Henry W. Sage 1 891 Cornell University Library DC 733.S61 1853 Paris after Waterloo; 3 1924 028 137 630 Cornell University Library The original of this book is in the Cornell University Library. There are no known copyright restrictions in the United States on the use of the text. http://www.archive.org/details/cu31924028137630 PAEIS AFTEE WATEELOO PRINTED BY WILLIAM BLACKWOOD AND SONS, EDINBURGH. PARIS AFTER WATERLOO NOTES TAKEN AT THE TIME A1(D HITHERTO "UNPUBLISHED INCLUDING A REVISED EDITION — THE TENTH — OF A VISIT TO FLANDERS AND THE FIELD JAMES SIMPSON, ESQ. ADVOCATE AUTHOR OV ' THE FHII-OSOPHY OF EDUCATION,' ' LECTURES TO THE WORKING CLASSES,* ETC. 1 'Tis tfORTV years, since."— Scott WILLIAM BLACKWOOD AND SONS KDINBURGH AND LONDON MDCCCLIII D PREFACE. " A Visit to Flanders and the Field of Waterloo," published alone, in 1815, formed a part only of notes, taken by the author, on his whole sojourn in Belgium and France. Looking over the hitherto unpublished portion, 'which for thirty-seven years has reposed in a dusty corner, and finding much which he himself had forgotten, but which narrates events and describes scenes which he thinks might be in- teresting, as they would probably.be new, to his younger countrymen, — especially at the present mo- ment that a recent loss has recalled the public atten- tion to the marvels of days past, — he has ventured to bring it out. The history of Waterloo, no doubt, has been written by many others since his own slight sketch of it appeared. But his being rather a picture than a detailed narrative — true, however, so far as it goes — the readers of the new portion, he thinks, may like to see the old ; and he has given it the place it originally held in the journal which he kept at the time. In doing so, he trusts CONTENTS. CHAPTER I. ANTWERP. Page Caserne de Facon, one of the hospitals of wounded British' — La Corderie, the hospital of wounded French — Citadel — Convicts in chains — Wounded officers — Highlanders in Antwerp — Docks of Napoleon — View from the tower of the Cathedral — Streets and houses of Antwerp — Cathedral, and blanks left for Rubens' pic- tures expected to be restored, .... 1-13 CHAPTER II. Road from Antwerp to Brussels — Place Royale — Park, with its buildings and ornamentB — Preparations in Brussels for the bat- tle — March of the troops — Of the Highland regiments — Visit to Quatre-Bras — Two English ladies — Retrograde movement of the British army — Alarms in Brussels — Wounded officer — -Lady who had lost her husband — Alarm of fire at Antwerp — Field imme- diately after the battle — Robbery by a Prussian Hussar — Irish officer and his young Belgian wife — Singular fortitude of the latter — Palace of Laken — Theatre — King of the Netherlands present — A blacksmith necessary to disarm a Highland sergeant — Quack doctress on horseback — Report about the Netherlands — Experience of the author's wounded relative, . . 14-26 CONTENTS. CHAPTER III. VJSIT TO THE FIELD. Forest of Soigne— Village of Waterloo— Station of Lord Wel- lington — Description of the field — Discouraging bivouac — Spirit of an Irish officer — Numbers of the two armies — Exclamation of Buonaparte — Two first attacks — Effect of their failure on Na- poleon — Highlanders and Scots Greys — Three grand charges by the British cavalry — Infantry attacks — Cavalry attacks numerous — Impatience of the British troops to be led on — Their con- stancy and firmness — Farm-house of La Haye Sainte — Sir Wil- liam De Lancey — Colonel Miller and Captain Curzon — Horrors of the field the day after the battle — Wreck yet remaining ; leaves of books and letters — Chivalrous conduct of the Prince of Orange —Conduct of a nameless regiment of light horse — 12th Light Dragoons ; young officer of that regiment who fell — Brigade of 30th, and another regiment — Several anecdotes — 69th regiment — Hougomont and the Guards — Hovel of La Belle Alliance — Country over which the enemy fled — Visit to the station of Na- poleon — Lacoste the farmer — Answer of Napoleon to a message about an English battery — His compliments to the British troops — His interview with a British officer — Account by a French officer of his behaviour — Defeat of a general attack by the French army — Final effort of Napoleon — Its defeat — Advance by the whole British army — French officer's account of the rout of the French army — Meeting of Wellington and Blucher — Compli- ment from the Prussian to the British cavalry — Flight of Napo- leon — Contrast of the conduct of Frederick the Great — Megret's remark on the death of Charles XII. — Anecdote of a peasant woman on the field, ..... 27-77 CHAPTER IV. KEFLECTIONS. Reflections written in 1815, . . . . . 78-87 Reflections written in 1852, ..... 87-94 CONTENTS. XI CHAPTER V. MONS — CAMBBAY — KOTE — SENLIS. Pagk Devotion of a French soldier to the Emperor — Belgian agriculture — British regiments passing through Mons — General mendicity — Singular violin-playing — Valenciennes — Cambray — Dress of the peasantry — Peasant family — Returned conscript — Roye ; ter- magant hostess — Prussian soldiers complained of — Senlis ; inte- resting hospital ; wounded French officer — Approach to Paris — English Life Guards sent out as police — Highland sentry at the Barrier St Martin — Arrival in Paris, . . . 95-101 CHAPTER VI. Place Carrousel — Venetian horses on triumphal arch — Austrian humiliation — Louis XVIII. — Opera, Duke of Wellington, the music, the dancing, Highland soldiers represented in the ballet, these popular — Gahgnani's — Review of 30,000 Russian Guards — " Vive nos ennemis" — Blucher and Platoff — Tuileries gardens — French at a table-d'hote — Theatre des Varietes, John Bull ridi- culed, Characteristic scenes, an English and French officer — The English the protectors of Paris — Ladies much abroad ; Home unknown — Palais Royal — Cafe'de Mille Colonnes and its matron; Walter Scott there— French women, French men — Napoleon's opinion of the latter — French boys on the streets — Recollections of the " tenth of August" — Place Louis XV. — Champs Elysees ; British troops encamped — Bois de Boulogne — English and Hano- verians — Fire among the huts of the latter — British Guards. 102-117 CHAPTER VII. LOUVRE GALLEKY. (First Visit.) First impression — General survey — 1400 masterpieces — Divided into schools — Paul Potter's bull — Works of earlier painters — Statuary halls — Pliny and the Laocoon — Tivoli gardens ; silly XIV CONTENTS. Page Value of a bit of frieze from the Parthenon — West and Canova's opinion of Elgin Marbles — "Transfiguration" again; has been tampered with — Raphael's female beauty — Restitution of pic- tures — that question — Fete in the Tuileries gardens — Illumina- tions — Prussian officers resenting an insult by the police to an English officer — Banquet of the 95th at the Quadron Bleu ; their toasts and cheers, and effect on Parisians — Review at Neuilly of two pet regiments of Russian guards ; monarehs colonels ; Cos- sacks keeping the ground ; Emperor of Russia giving word of command — Respect for the English troops — Visit to the guillo- tine — Church of Nfitre Dame— Crown of Thorns — Ancient cloister — House of Fulbert ; Abelard and Helo'ise — Observatory — Execution of Marshal Ney near it — M. Arago — Last visit to Louvre — Journey to Rouen — Afflicting French lady — Rouen, ancient and interesting — Officers of Scots Greys there — The vast cathedral — Place de la Pucelle, the Maid of Orleans — Jour- ney to Dieppe — Substitute for passport — Immediate embarka- tion — Arrival at Brighton, .... 246-274 CHAPTER XII. Conclusion, 275-278 APPENDIX. I. Sufferings of Sir William Ponsonby on the field, . 279 II. British Account of the Battle of Waterloo — London Ga- zette Extraordinary, ..... 281 III. Prussian Account— Official Report of Marshal Blucher, 287 IV. Spanish Account— Despatch from General Miguel Alava, 293 V. French Official Account, .... 300 VI. Marshal Ne/s Observations on the Battle, . . 306 VII. Wellington Victories, : gn VIII. Wellington Honours and Rewards, . . 311 IX. Wellington Titles, . ... 312 X. Wellington Offices, . . . . 3J3 INTBODUCTION. The generation is passing away who, in their prime, cheered on the career of Wellington, and shouted for the victory of Waterloo. A generation of their sons, and yet another of their grandsons, were unborn when the world wide first rang with these inseparable alli- terated names. From the thinned ranks of grandfathers the aged hero has descended to his honoured tomb ; but the survivors have "grandfathers' tales" to tell, which " The listener holds his breath to hear." A long war, on which was staked their existence, had roused, in the British people, a martial ardour, which a more pacific age would deem a national mania. A million of men, of peaceful habits and pursuits, were in arms. Grave citizens marched through their familiar streets to the cadence of trumpet and drum, in "the pomp and circumstance of war," intent to rouse the echos with salvos of musketry and cannon. You were served by the shopman in soldier's garb ; your physician 11 INTEODUCTION. exchanged the lancet for the lance, and felt your pulse in scarlet and lace ; your advocate pleaded your cause, his gown scarcely concealing the same gaudy incongruity ; ■while the judge descended from the bench, and even the divine from the pulpit, to assume it, and hasten, with " the sword of Gideon," to the field. It may easily be believed that when " the regulars" were spared for Con- tinental campaigns, the soldiers at home went with them in spirit, heart, and soul ; and that tidings of their move- ments and feats of arms were expected with intense interest by those who, so well qualified to look on, felt as if they were actually playing the critical game. Believing, in our simplicity, that we had deposited Buo- naparte for life, in a little island temptingly near the French coast,* we were more " electrified " than we were entitled to be when he reappeared, like a meteor, in the heart of the country, and advanced — " alone he did it" — to his recently abdicated throne in the Tuileries. France exulted ; and Europe, crying treachery, flew once more to arms. " The war that for a space did fail, Now trebly thundering swelled the gale." To revenge "the cheat" our martial spirit burst forth again with a heat which left its prior temperature cool and moderate. Every available "regular" was hurried to Belgium, the expected battle-field — the region of battle-fields since Caesar's time. Wellington was again * Captain Usher's ship, when conveying the French Emperor to Elba, was spoken at sea by another ship of war, the captain of which came on board for a few minutes. A sailor leaning over the taffrail was heard to call to another looking from Captain Usher's ship, "Well, you've got Boney on board?" "Ay, ay," was the answer, " we've got him at last ! " INTRODUCTION. in the saddle ; Blucher was in the field; while Russia and Austria countermarched their yet undisbanded forces, and hastened — there were no railroads in those days — from their more distant position, to the rekindled war. A large body of our own best troops were on their long steamless voyage from the unhappy American war ; and noting, as we did, the preparations of the enemy, with experience of his custom of rapid advance on the unpre- pared, our courage was not unmingled with fear, that we might not be adequately prepared to meet the coming storm. Our troops were soon in cantonments in and near Brussels, with every precaution for speedy con- centration. It was time. The armies of France, led on by their redoubtable chief, were already rolling like a mighty flood onwards to the field, where our own fathers, sons, and brothers, waited undismayed to arrest their course. There was no breathing-time. The foe walked at once into the heart of the combat. Ligny and Quatre-Bras were already fought — two battles, as Ney afterwards lamented, in one day. The Prussians were driven with great loss from their field, defeated, but not routed ; while the British, victorious in theirs, bivouacked on their own ground — from which the retreat of the Prussians on their flank would have made a retro- grade movement necessary, to maintain communications and concentrate forces, even if it had not been deter- mined, to a previously mapped-out field of battle, known to have been chosen by Marlborough a century before, but abandoned, it is said unwillingly, from circumstances which he could not control. Such were the first tidings of the war, received in England in four days, and in Scotland in six, which, iv INTEODDCTION. had they then been known, electric wires would have brought in as many minutes. The author witnessed the effect of the news in Edinburgh. It met him as he entered the outer hall of the Courts of law, still called the Parliament House, from having been the hall of the Scottish Parliament before the Union. The un- wonted words were passing from mouth to mouth — " Wellington is defeated ! He has retreated to a place called Waterloo 1 The game is up ! The hero of a hundred fights quails before the eagles of Napoleon ! The Prussian army is annihilated ! " And thus and thus was Pandora's box emptied. " But Hope the charmer lingered still behind." A retreat is not necessarily a defeat, began some one to recollect — a retreat, moreover, to a named place, most likely a previously chosen position, infers a stand at that place. A detachment only has been engaged, and necessarily fell back on the concentrated main body. The retreat of the Prussians would have exposed its flank. Wellington had yet to put forth his strength. The French had never, since they first met him, gained the smallest advantage over him ; on the contrary, had been beaten in every action, and that so statedly, that Napo- leon was known to have exclaimed pettishly to the un- lucky bearer of the news of yet another Peninsular disaster — "Bah! Les Anglais toujours battent les Francais!" " No ! No ! " said one more sanguine reasoner of the long robe, " we shall have news of a victory yet ; and, as it must be near at hand, one way or the other, I should be more delighted than surprised if the castle guns should wake us to-morrow morning." Another INTRODUCTION. V barrister, quite as patriotic, but less sanguine, would cheerfully pay a guinea for every gun fired for a victory, to any one who would take very easy odds. The bet was taken, the taker patriotically wishing to win, the offerer still more patriotically wishing to lose. The business of the morning had scarcely proceeded two hours, when a gentleman rushed into the great hall, and almost breath- less shouted "Victory!" He was mobbed. "How had the news come ? " " By express from the Lord Provost of Edinburgh, then in London. The French completely routed, at the place called Waterloo, by one grand bayonet charge of the whole British army ! " Such was the brief flourish, for a lengthened struggle of ten hours, which was first sounded by Fame's trumpet. The bearer of the glad tidings was soon in the Court where the judges were sitting ; the cheers of the Outer Hall were suspended only to be renewed in the Inner. Further law proceedings were out of the question ; adjournment was ruled ; and judges, advocates, agents, and officers, were speedily in the streets, already crowded by their excited and exulting townsmen. Nobody could stay at home. The schools were let loose. Business was sus- pended, and a holiday voted by acclamation. Everybody shook hands with everybody ; and as the Lord Provost's brief express, got by heart by the whole population, could not be made longer or more particular than it was, the most restless were perforce obliged to wait, with what patience they might, for the dawn of the next day. The sun of that morning saw no " sluggard slumbering 'neath his beams." The streets were crowded before the post arrived. The mail-coach was descried approaching, adorned with laurels and flags, the guard waving his INTRODUCTION. hat ; and soon it dashed into the town amid cheers that made the welkin ring. The accounts were now official. All was confirmed ; and, as early as seven o'clock, the Castle flag rose, and nineteen twenty-four pounders sounded in the ears and filled the eyes — for the effect was overpowering — of the excited throng. Need we say that the nineteen guineas were joyfully paid by the loser 1 or need we add, that the winner handed them over to the fund, speedily commenced, for the wounded, and the widows and families of the slain 1 Newspapers, with the despatches, including the list of the casualties, so far as known, were snatched from the post-office. They were common property, and the holder of each, whether he willed it or no, was elevated on the nearest vacant steps to read out the accounts, pro bono publico; and many who had relatives in the battle trembled as they listened to the names of the killed and wounded ; and a fearful catalogue it was. Up to this moment, all had been a kind of wild romance, the sub- limest.and most awful, the saddest and the most joyous, for such are the mingled feelings on the first tidings of a victory. The business-like despatches of the " Iron Duke" brought us down to the stern prose of the ter- rible combat. It was a ten hours' struggle, marked by the most trying hazards and vicissitudes. Many an anxious hour had dragged on its slow length before the Prussians appeared, and before the charge was sounded, in grand finale, which turned into a panic-stricken mob, flying in the dusk and the moonlight, the Imperial host — cavalry, infantry, artillery, young guard, middle guard, old guard, and all. The Prussians and all the Allies had their due share of credit assigned them, while the heavy INTRODUCTION. vii loss was deplored by the Duke, with the feeling which becomes a generous and gallant soldier. Without the delay of a packet, medical men of emi- nence, several from Edinburgh, hastened to the country of wounds as to a vast hospital, at once to relieve suffer- ing and reap experience. Meetings were held, and liberal subscriptions opened. Private letters brought minute details of intense interest; and "multitudes, impelled by an interest which would be 'unworthily called mere curio- sity, crowded the packets to Belgium, eager to see a field so near and so recent ; to learn the tale on the spot, and to breathe the very air of a region shining with their country's glory, and resounding with their country's praise. Among these was the author of the following notes. It is impossible to convey to a reader of the pre- sent day an adequate idea of the kind of feelings which the locality excited in the visitor's mind. There pre- vailed in it an absolute aura, which exhilarated, almost intoxicated him, like nitrous oxide. The wounded claimed universal sympathy. Not only well-appointed hospitals, but private houses, were open to them. In the latter the family acted as tender nurses, and were only restrained by the more cautious surgeons from literally killing the patients with kindness. The author visited the hospitals, mingled extensively with both the wounded and their attendants, met and conversed with the convalescent as they moved on crutches, or were wheeled in garden-chairs on the public walks ; and many a tale he listened to of the " hair-breadth 'scapes" of the terrible field; and many a question he answered of what was thought and said "at home." Then came the vivid pictures which the excited natives drew of their own share in the horrors of INTRODUCTION. the day — described as ten hours of thunder; of their anxiety, and terror, and despair ; the flight of multitudes as tidings came, all disastrous, confirmed by crowds of fugitives from the field ; and their joyful return when the truth overtook them on their way. Last and greatest, a visit to the battle-field itself. The author, when all his feelings were fresh, attempted to record that visit in a volume which his countrymen favourably received at the time ; and which, reprinted in its place in these notes, he now submits to the perusal of his younger countrymen, who, most probably, never heard of its existence. After the lapse of thirty-seven years of peace and pro- gress, it would be strange indeed if the author, in his old age, and after years of humble labour in the cause of social improvement whose chief enemy is war, should either feel, or wish to revive, the belligerent spirit which his notes, written in the midst of it, freely describe. Matter, long since, of history, and now, well-nigh, of romance, the war may be studied as an old picture, and read as a tale of other times, which would not have been disturbed in its dusty shelf, had it not been felt to be as harmless as any tale of chivalry ; and as little calculated to call the present day to arms, as the wars of the Eoses, the rebellion of Forty-five, or the Crusades themselves. There is, however, one useful practical moral in the me- morable history. A new-born power moves by starts and springs, as sudden as capricious. Despots frown on England's freedom, and would rejoice to crush it. War, even yet, is not impossible ; and we have a country more worth defending than ever. Men who were not born when the sword was sheathed, may — which God in his mercy avert — be called upon to unsheathe it again. To INTEODUCTION. IX them their country's safety is committed. Their grey- haired sires, who, -when their " brows were brent," turned the battle from our gates, look to them for that shield which they themselves nobly held over their country. It is right that our youth should know how these sires wielded both sword and shield — how fields were won by them ; and, above all, how military ruffianism un- equalled in modern times was quelled, a flagitious con- queror hurled from his bad eminence, and peace restored to an exhausted world. The Author followed the armies to Paris ; and the recollections of what he saw and felt there form a large part of these notes. Much as there is at all times to interest in that capital of the Continent, the crisis super- added a kind and degree of excitement altogether pecu- liar. History presents nothing which can be compared with it. The world seemed congregated in Paris. Eu- rope's armies, princes, statesmen, warriors, peoples, met within its walls ; and, in all their varieties of aspect, man- ners, and costumes, crowded its streets, walks, churches, theatres, galleries, museums, saloons. The artistic plun- der of Europe, its rarest paintings and sculpture, not yet restored to their rightful owners, enriched the Louvre gallery, and were legitimately enjoyed by thousands, who were free from the guilt of bringing them there. Councils, whose members were princes, sat on the destinies of nations. The masters of science and literature, the sons of genius, met in one attractive centre, and interchanged their lights and friendships. The " stars" of the drama and orchestra gravitated to it too ; while to the banquet and the ball, kings and statesmen, and generals, imparted an eclat and splendour worthy of an assembled world. X INTRODUCTION. At one of the latter, given by the Duke of Wellington, and described in the following notes, the Author, who was present, was arrested by a spectacle which brought a crowd of reflections into his mind. A large framed por- trait of Napoleon, himself, stood on the floor of one of the saloons, on a level with the spectators. Princes, gene- rals, statesmen, gay dancers, beautiful women, looked upon it, uttered a moral sentiment, and passed on. All felt the change of which the presence of this shade, in- stead of its stern original, was the proof. It was all that remained in halls which a few short hours before had echoed to the living voice of the conqueror of Europe — the Alexander, the Csesar, of modern times, the Emperor Napoleon ! " Sic transit," said many a beholder — " sic transit gloria mundi J" Armies on the largest scale, of all the European powers, were an interesting sight to the mere citizen-soldier. But above all affecting was abso- lute contact and companionship with the gallant men — alas ! how many of them now no more ! — fresh from the field of victory, and full of its marvels and heart-touching tales. If even to the calm retrospect of age, the stirring days of Waterloo have not lost their interest, if allusions to them even yet have something of a trumpet sound to all, they must offer excitement of the most attractive kind to the young ; and it is mainly to the importunities of his young friends, who have listened to fragments of these " Tales of other Times," that they should be given to the public, that he has yielded, and sent his notes, written in the midst of what they feebly describe, to, the press and the publisher. PARIS AFTER WATERLOO &c. CHAPTEE I. ANTWERP. Afteb a four days' passage from Leith, and a short but delightful tour through the most interesting part of Holland — from Botterdam, by the Hague, Leyden, and Haarlem, to Amsterdam ; and south again by Utrecht and Breda ; we entered Flanders at Le Coin D' Argent, on the 27th July 1815 ; and a few hours afterwards arrived at Antwerp. Some of the novel feeling of first treading the long interdicted Continent had worn off; so that I had travel- led many a straight mile on Napoleon's chaussee of granite, with hardly a glance bestowed upon the little- varying scenery on either side of it. But in our progress there did occur places, especially towns, so fertile in interesting associations, so identified with our impressions of French presence and power, so recently the lair of the monster just hunted down, that it was impossible to approach them without the most engrossing sensations ; avidity to survey them closely ; an increase of pulse on entering their lately implacable gates ; and a large share of national pride, because a visit, so long dangerous, was 2 ANTWERP. at length made safe ; and the visitors received with con- sideration even, on account of their country. No place of strength and importance occasioned these feelings more than Antwerp — a place whose very name we had long connected with the idea of danger >to Eng- land ; and which we knew to be the favourite, jealously guarded, and almost mysterious officina, where something tremendous was forging against us by an enemy, whose means always exceeded our calculations. These consi- derations much increased the intensity of my gaze at the broad ditches, lines, and bastions of that almost impreg- nable fortress ; and gave a double effect in imagination to the cannon which pointed on the long bridges ; till, on arriving at the gate, I saw the first proof of the satisfac- tory change of times, a guard of the 25th regiment of our own trustworthy country. After the verification of my passport at the office of the police, I was surprised to hear my name called out in friendly English, as I was crossing the great square in front of the Hotel de Ville ; and turning round, saw my friends, Dr Somerville, inspector-general of military hos- pitals in Scotland, and Dr Thomson, professor of military surgery in Edinburgh ; who had, with an enterprise and benevolence most creditable to themselves, set out for this country of wounds, immediately on hearing of the battle of Waterloo. The wounded at Brussels had for a con- siderable time occupied their attention, and they had now come to Antwerp in prosecution of their object. As they had visited a near relative of my own, wounded at Quatre- Bras,* my first inquiry was about his progress. They informed me that he had a short time before obtained * Captain James Simpson of the 1st Foot Guards, created Grena- dier Guards, in reward for their having defeated the grenadiers of the French Imperial Guard ; and now Major-general, and Com- mander-in-chief of the South Western District, and Deputy-governor of Portsmouth. ANTWERP. 3 leave to return to England, in a fair way of recovery; and that they had heard of his safe arrival in London. The permanent objects of the traveller's attention in Flanders and France were postponed in this eventful year, to the marvels of the juncture. I was now in the region of Waterloo, with an interest in its theme growing as I advanced. I had reached the first city where the details of its only yesterday horrors, sufferings, and glories, banished every other topic of conversation. Many of the wounded actually in Antwerp ; public build- ings converted into hospitals, and more private houses devoted to the same use; with all that the brave sufferers loved to relate, each of his own share of the great day — it was in effect to be in the field itself, to be at this time in Antwerp ; and the interest of seeing the wounded was enhanced by the company of two of their most skilful, zealous, and justly popular friends. A stronger impulse than that which prompts a visit of sympathy and admiration to the brave in the comparative comfort of a well-appointed hospital — a wish to save life, or mitigate anguish, would urge one into the midst of the newly-created horrors of a field of battle. Fortunately for our countrymen, this impulse was promptly obeyed by the humane inhabitants of Brussels ; and many a soldier owed his life to the speedy resort of individuals to the scene. It would be only less insensible than passing them by in the field, to decline an opportunity of visiting in hos- pital, a large body of the men who had purchased with their limbs the mighty victory with which the world resounded. Nor can any degree of excitement be imagined more intense, than that occasioned by the absolute pre- sence of so striking a feature of the battle as its wounded. The idea that their sufferings are every day diminishing occurs for the visitor's relief, and that they are reaping the advantages of a system of skill and care, not exceeded 4 ANTWEKP. in any Branch of the multifarious economy of the great country which their firmness and valour have made to triumph. Many a zealous and patient medical labourer in the military hospitals, with, perhaps, the gratitude of his patients, or his own reflections, his only reward, has been heard to regret that the public knows so little of, or cares so little for, those noble monuments of the combina- tion, the genius, and the skill, of the professors of the healing art. Yet there is no road more certain to the formation of a just estimate of our country, than an introduction to the interior economy of its institutions. There is a healthy vigour in every branch, which springs from one sustaining root of freedom, of light, and of energy ; nor is there any better foundation for true patriotism than an intimate knowledge of the details. Something, if possible, beyond the average care for the sick and hurt, appeared to me to animate all ranks of medical men for the wounded of Waterloo ; and their zeal made no distinction between their countrymen and the enemy. I accompanied my friends to an hospital with 800 Bri- tish wounded, which they visited in the evening. The building was well fitted for its purpose. One of the finest barracks, perhaps, in Europe, called the Caserne de Fagon, built by Buonaparte for the destined plunderers of London, was immediately available for the comfortable reception of their wounded conquerors. The latter were further indebted to him for the industry with which he had fitted up all the convents of Antwerp as barracks ; nothing could be more convenient and satisfactory than the easy conversion of these into hospitals, with the best possible accommodation. There was no end, through my whole tour, to the occurrence of striking examples of the rever- sal of French destinies, which the times had produced. The scene was now entirely divested of its more horri- fying features. A general air of comfort and comparative ANTWERP. 5 ease was apparent in the accommodations, clothing, and ap- pearance of the men ; and the satisfactory assurance was superadded, that they were in general doing well. There was therefore nothing to prevent the casual visitor from experiencing the peculiar and rare interest of the scene, and connecting it with the field of battle ; nor could any- thing be imagined more touching than the sight of the beds, and bandages, and crutches, of the wounded of Water- loo — except always that of the graves of the slain on the memorable field itself. We knew that the intending poet of Waterloo, Mr Walter Scott, was shortly to visit Antwerp and Brussels, and anticipated much from his seeing the wounded. In the variety of aspects in which the scene would appear to different descriptions of visi- tors, its poetical features are not the least striking j and, combining the affecting spectacle with the field where the havoc was wrought, such a poet cannot fail to describe it with the utmost beauty and pathos. It needed not poetical inspiration, however, to feel intensely the occa- sion ; for hard would his heart be, who could have gone through the ranges of beds, and seen so many brave men unable to rise, so many limping or creeping about ; so many arms in slings, and heads bound up ; and withal, such perfect patience and order ; and glanced in thought at the stupendous boon to mankind, of which this scene of suffering was the price, without a tribute of emotion quite overpowering. With many of the men, whom I was assured it did not disturb, there was no resisting the temptation of convers- ing. A non-medical stranger was a variety to them ; and they were most naturally eager to know that their deeds and their sufferings were duly appreciated. " What do they say of us at home?" was several times asked. And a most liberal assurance, that their unequalled merit had ample justice done to it by their countrymen, seemed very gratifying to them. Out of doors, in a large court- 6 ANTWERP. yard, were great numbers of the more slightly hurt' and the convalescent : and we were enabled to distinguish our own countrymen by their bonnets. They came about us in numbers when they heard Scotland mentioned. It was a great refreshment, they said, to hear its name. " They hoped they had not disgraced it." To a man, however, they rejected any exclusive praise on their own account : " They did no more than their duty ; and so did every regiment in the field." The contentment and cheerfulness of these brave men were very affecting. Every one gave an answer, in which there was resignation or hope, to inquiries how they were ; and there was a decency of demeanour and good order, which strongly marked the reasonableness and good sense of the respectable soldiery of our country. Beyond the citadel, is La Corderie, a building con- structed by Buonaparte, as a rope-work, 1300 feet long, to give space for making the cable of a first-rate ship of war. It is fitted up as an hospital for about 1500 of his wounded soldiers. A very different feeling from the mingled pity and admiration with which our own wounded countrymen were visited — some hesitation to mingle with what I believed to be ferocious and exasperated men, was not unnatural, but, as a moment of the reality showed, very unnecessary. Insulting language, at least, a stranger might have apprehended; but even this had no place, where all were engrossed with their own sufferings ; hum- bled in a consciousness of their irretrievable defeat ; and withal, under excellent surveillance and discipline. The whole length of the place was open ; and the beds were arranged in four rows from end to end. We walked, generally unnoticed by their occupants, up and down the lanes between them ; and, equally disregarded, frequently stepped over a bed, or passed between two, when going from one passage to another. It was impossible to imagine ANTWERP. 7 two extremes more strikingly contrasted, yet more forcibly associated, than the spectacle which these unfortunate enthusiasts presented now, and their confidence and fury but yesterday ; their submissive tranquillity in their flannel gowns and caps in the hospital, and their noise and cuirasses in the field. Many cases, however, were such as to chase all the thoughts now described, and substitute unmingled pity in their stead. Death was at work here, much more manifestly than we had observed among the English wounded. Many faces, as we passed along, seemed hardly to retain signs of life — a spectacle tenfold aggravated by the reflection that nature had maintained a struggle with anguish for a whole month, to yield in the end, in circumstances compared to which instant death in the field had been mercy. The cases in the French hospital were almost all worse than those in the British : this was especially true of the sabre wounds — a circumstance which was attributed to the superior physical force of the British arm, nerved by resentment for the cruelties of the enemy, which it may be believed were not hid from the men, and by the enthusiasm of pursuit when the day was decided ; but, in truth, much more naturally accounted for by the consideration that most of the slightly wounded found means to escape from the field. We chanced to witness, as we passed, the actual termination of one poor soldier's sufferings ; a moment delivering him, but impressing the unaccustomed beholder in a manner never to be forgotten. We had observed a very miserable-looking priest, with his bodk and crucifix, visiting several parts of the ward ; and now saw him standing with folded hands muttering a prayer at the foot of one of the beds, where the clothes were thrown over the face of the occupant. The latter had just breathed his last. We stood uncovered to hear, and pay becoming respect B 8 ANTWEEP. ' to, the ceremony of blessing the dead. The hourly re- port of casualties soon followed us to the bureau of the hospital. In it was the death, at half-past nine o'clock, of " Jean Baptiste Bronneur, of the young guard, aged twenty-two years," — a youth who did not doubt either of the easy triumph of his Emperor, or of his own arrival at the rank of a marshal of France ; who but yesterday con- tributed his utmost strength to the shouts of the Champ de Mai, and swelled the tide of self-devotion at the field of Waterloo, — now stretched lifeless on his pallet, for the bad cause of that unworthy chief, who certainly, had he seen the last moments, and listened to his own name on the dying lips of his devotee, would have been too much occu- pied with the means of saving the remnant of his own dishonoured days, to have spared other reflection than something about sottise or dommage. No associating prin- ciple of the most irresistible contrast could more power- fully have recalled to our minds the flight and surrender of Napoleon Buonaparte, than the shrift of Jean Bap- tiste Bronneur, de lajeune garde, age de mngt-deux ans. Yet did a phrenetic zeal for the Emperor, in these poor creatures, seem to increase with their sufferings, and in the face of the full knowledge of his sacrifice and desertion of them. One man was pointed out who had tossed his amputated arm in the air, with a feeble shout of "Vive l'Empereur !" Another, at the moment of the preparations to take off his leg, declared that there was something he knew of which would cure him on the spot, and save his limb, and the operator's trouble. When asked to explain this strange remark, he said, " A sight of the Emperor !" The indispensable amputation did not save him — he died in the surgeon's hands ; and his last words, steadfastly looking on his own blood, were, that he would cheerfully shed the last drop in his veins for the great Napoleon ! A singularly wild and al- most poetic fancy was the form in which a third bore ANTWERP. 9 his testimony. He was undergoing, with great steadi- ness, the operation of the extraction of a ball from his side, and it happened to be the left. In the moment of his greatest suffering, he exclaimed, " An inch deeper, and you'll find the Emperor !" Had the Emperor merited such heroic devotion ; had he gallantly sacrificed himself in the field ; or had his cause been as good as it was profligate, there would have been no alloying reserve in the pathos, and even sublimity, of these effusions. But another reflection intrudes, which at once renders the kind of scenes described unsuitable and repulsive. It is to be feared that affections less amiable called them forth. The mortified Frenchmen were preaching themselves, at the moment, as much as their idol. The latter was too well known, even in the effulgence of his power, ever to be personally beloved ; but how much less when the blindest of his worshippers could not but know that he had made a safe escape in his own person, leaving them to remem- ber him in the horrors of the flight and the hospital! Yet every Frenchman, identifying Napoleon's name with his own greatness, had committed himself so entirely, that to cease to cry out " Vive l'Empereur ! " as long as breath or life lasted, was a thought not to be endured for a moment. A Frenchman, it is well known, lives for effect ; and if circumstances only excite him enough, will die for effect too. Mortified vanity and wounded pride will impel him to anything ; and it is therefore that a petu- lant and unyielding spirit, after defeat in battle, is the last thing to leave, if it ever leaves, the French soldier or the French nation. Man and woman of them tell the allied troops, who live as masters in their houses, in Paris itself, that, nonobstant, they are not conquered; while retrospectively talking of their own days of prosperity, in which the prostration of their most humiliated enemy never equalled their own as it now is, we hear of no- 10 ANTWERP. thing but French, conquests, and their legitimate fruits. A visit to the French requires a considerable stock of patience, among other requisites. From the hospital of the Corderie I was conducted by a guide, who was provided for me, into the impregnable citadel. It is considered as a masterpiece of fortifica- tion. The whole of the works, and the system of the garrison, were most obligingly explained to me by the governor, Colonel Crawfurd. I had observed on the outside of the citadel, several parties of men dressed in coarse red jackets, working at different sorts of hard labour, chained two and two by the legs, with heavy irons. The first party were attend- ing two carts with a water-cask on each ; and their march made a loud clanking noise. They were convicts, sent to Antwerp from all parts of the country, for a cer- tain term of years, and many for life. Each party had a superintendant with it, and the description who are allowed to work out of doors are the better behaved, and those whose time is nearly expiring. With an under keeper, my only guarantee, I went into their great prison, within the citadel : it consists of large wards, divided into stalls, placed head to head along the middle range, so as to leave the walls free on both sides to pass along. A man on the outside unlocked a huge iron-grated door, and in a moment my conductor and I were among some hundreds of desperate criminals. This was worse yet than the French prisoners. I had often heard that a visit to the felons of Newgate is neither pleasant nor safe ; it seemed to me much worse to be surrounded by foreign ruffians of all sorts. To my amazement, as we passed along, the poor creatures, many of whom had left their stalls to go over to the opposite wall, about the length of their fetters, ran into their kennels, that we might not have to step over their chains ; and one and all stood silent, and pulled off their caps as we passed. ANT WEEP. 11 The governor told me that this was not owing to there being an overseer with me, but that they would have done the same had I been alone. I should not, however, have made the experiment. The prison is kept well aired, and there are very few sick. The number is above 1000. Their submission re- sults from the hopelessness of their situation, and the severe regime under which they are placed. To prevent even the thought of mutiny, loaded cannon are pointed to both sides of the prison. Two English regiments were in the citadel, the 37th and 25th. In the streets and walks were many wounded officers taking gentle exercise. One fine young man, an Irish- man, I used the freedom of addressing. He was much emaciated and sadly lame ; and no wonder, for he had received twenty-four sabre wounds. His servant was with him, watching and supporting his steps, with "69th" marked on his cap. I was in quest of an officer of that regiment, and found that he was in the same quarters with the gentleman to whom I had spoken. I walked slowly home with him, and saw the object of my inquiry ; he was quite recovered, and meant to proceed to Paris to join. They were very modest in their account of the battle, but naturally much pleased to hear that the coun- try did them justice. In Antwerp much was said of the Highlanders. An inhabitant whom I saw, had seen the wounded arrive. He himself had been recognised and spoken to by a poor wounded Highlander j which absolutely, he said, gave him a kind of consideration in the crowd. He felt prouder at the moment than if a prince had smiled upon him. At Brussels, and wherever I went in the Netherlands, when the English troops were mentioned, whom they likewise much admired, the natives always returned to the Scotch, with "Mais les Ecossais," — they are good and kind as well as brave ; they are the only soldiers 12 ANTWERP. who become "enfans de lafamille" in the houses in which they are billeted ; they even rock the cradle, carry ahout the children, and help the domestic work. The favourite form of compliment was, " The Scotch are lions in the field, and lambs in the house." There was a competition among the inhabitants who should have them in their houses ; and when they returned wounded, the same house which they had left had its doors open, and the family went out some miles to meet " our own Scotsman. " * The people had many instances to relate of the generosity of these men : after the battle, Highlanders, themselves wounded, were seen binding up the wounds of French- men, and assisting them with their arm. Would that we could tell the same tale of French soldiers themselves ! Their general rule — not without exceptions, we trust — was " no quarter." There cannot be a better test of two nations, a better decision of the question on which the peace and happiness of mankind should depend. With Mr Annesly, the British consul, from whom and his interesting family I received much polite attention, I saw the docks constructed by Buonaparte, and two first- rate ships of war lying in the Scheldt. The river was full of English vessels, and a number of the half-cured wounded were embarking for their homes. I went to the top of the tower of the great cathedral, nearly four hundred feet high, and had a view at once of the whole of this vast town, with its citadel and fortifications. Its extent seemed nearly equal to that of Edinburgh. The magnificent Scheldt winded under our eye, by Fort Lillo to Walcheren ; and a rich, verdant, wooded and grain- covered, champaign, with many towns and villages, ex- tended, as far as the eye could reach, all round. * On the Continent, the Highland regiments are not called Mon- tagnards, or Highlanders, but Scotch; which, unknown to the foreigners, is really their just appellation : for, as is well known, they are a mixture of Lowlanders and Highlanders. ANTWERP. 13 Antwerp itself is very grand and very ancient. It is Spanish, both in the style of its buildings and costume of its inhabitants. The hotels, or rather palaces, of many of the Flemish noblesse who live in Antwerp, are grand and sumptuous, resembling the first order of houses in London. But in the same street there is the Continental incongruity of an intermixture of houses of the meanest description, which, added to the want of side pavement and sunk areas, entirely destroys the idea to which the streets and squares of London, Dublin, and Edinburgh give rise, of a population of the superior classes. The Cathedral itself is one of the largest and most superb structures in the Netherlands, in the richest style of the florid Gothic. The towers are exquisitely orna- mented, and elegantly light. The inside is also most splendid ; and I observed with much interest the blanks carefully preserved for the pictures of Eubens, the Ascent to the Cross, the Crucifixion, and Descent from the Cross, which he had painted as the altar-pieces of the cathedral of his native city ; and which I afterwards saw actually taken down from the walls of the Louvre gallery, among the first in the progress of the great act of restitution. CHAPTER II. BRUSSELS. We travelled through a country between Antwerp and Brussels, which seemed richer than any we had yet seen, and more varied in its beauty, from the undulations of its surface. Some places were of considerable acclivity; and on the ridge was generally a handsome country-seat, with gardens extending down to the road. Still the latter, paved in the middle like our streets, was quite straight, and always enclosed with a row of high trees on each side. The crops were in many places reaping ; two or three men cut with a short scythe (the Hainauli) in one hand, and a kind of hook in the other, to gather the corn, and to serve the purpose of holding it tight till the other instrument strikes it. They seem to get on quickly enough in this manner ; and here, as in Holland, much field labour was going forward, although it was Sunday. We passed through the town of Mechline, so famous for its lace, and also for its cathedral. Sunday is a market day in the Flemish towns ; the shops are all open , and, before and after the church service, the peasantry are seen buying cloth, provisions, and other articles. On entering Brussels, the same busy scene presented itself, in tenfold proportion to that at Mechline. I went with a guide out of the Namur gate, and, about BRUSSELS. 15 half a mile in the suburbs, found the house of a relation of my own and his lady, who had been for some time resident in Brussels. Our way lay through a part of the splendid new town of this capital of the Netherlands. As We passed, it was striking to see on many doors, written in chalk, " 1, 2, or 3 blessis." This was probably for the convenience of the medical men. Sometimes it was " 2 officiers blesses," and on one door I read " 2 Anglais, et 2 Ecossais blesses." This was nearer and nearer Waterloo, and I felt a great respect for these chalked doors. On entering the great square, or Place Koyale, I was arrested by its magnificence. It seems about the size of the principal squares of London and Edinburgh, but without an enclosed garden in the centre. The houses are on a uniform and regular plan, singularly elegant, with a beautiful church of Grecian architecture in the centre of one side. 'The streets enter by the middle of the sides, and the corners are filled up by beautiful arcades or porticos, surmounted by statues, warlike tro- phies, &c. in white marble. I have seen nothing which gave me more the impression of a square of palaces than this noble Place. Streets run out from the square, and enclose what is called the park, or public walk. These houses, arranged in rows at least half a mile long, are in the same style of magnificence ; varied here and there, in their uniformity, by a fine public building, with noble porticos, and a richness of white ornament in statuary on the cream-coloured brick, with which they as well as those of the Place are built, which has a truly royal appearance. The park is tastefully planted, and traversed by walks in such a manner that a magnificent palace seems to form a vista to each ; and every alley abounds in copies, in marble, of the finest statues, dis- posed with much taste. I have nowhere seen anything , so completely elegant and grand as this new town of 16 BRUSSELS. Brussels, with the exception of the Place de Louis XV. at Paris, with its magnificent prospects. The rest of the town is like Antwerp, only much inferior. Very Spanish is the appearance of the older houses ; and the women, as in Antwerp, wear the Spanish veil. In Brussels, perhaps still more than in Antwerp, as so much nearer the scene, the battle was the constant and deeply interesting subject of conversation. With my friend and his lady, who had been in Brussels at the tinje, and had endured all the alarms, and run all the risks of that unparalleled period, it was naturally an inexhaustible theme. They had seen the ravages of the plague in Malta, and come through many other dangers ; but all were forgotten in the scenes which they witnessed upon the late tremendous occasion. There is no way of giving a more graphic account of these than shortly relat- ing, as they recounted it to me, their own share in the memorable days of June. It is well known that the news that the French had attacked the Prussians at Charleroi on the 15th, reached the Duke of Wellington in the evening of that day, in- stead of the morning, which, but for a mistake of the officer in charge, it ought to have done — a mistake which caused much bloodshed that might have been saved. The Duke was at a ball at the Duchess of Richmond's, for Brussels was full of gay and fashionable company. The information produced his prompt departure for the ren- dezvous of the British army at Quatre-Bras.* The in- habitants of Brussels were roused from their slumbers in the silence of the night, by the drums and bugles of alarm ; and, pouring out of their houses, increased the confusion. My friend, among the rest, immediately re- * From Quatre-Braa he paid a hasty visit to Prince Blucher, and, it is said, objected to his position, and predicted his defeat. De- feated he was, but he retreated slowly in excellent order ; so feebly pursued by the French as to be lost sight of by them altogether. BRUSSELS. 17 paired to the Place Eoyale, where, and in the Park, un- agitated by alarm, our brave troops were making their preparations, and taking their places, with all the com- posure of an ordinary parade. The artillery, the cavalry, the waggon train, were all in perfect order in the Park, and setting out with alacrity to meet the enemy. The sun was rising when the march began ; each regiment went off with three cheers, in the midst of the inhabi- tants, who had crowded every spot where they could get a last look of them, and follow them with their blessings and prayers. My friend was naturally most affected with, and loved most to recount, the steady, serious, business- like march of the Highland regiments, who were about to justify, and exceed, the utmost that had been said and expected of them in the Netherlands. " Dieu protege les braves Ecossais," was often repeated as they passed along; and flowers were thrown from many a fair hand into their ranks. In three hours the Place Royale and the Park were empty and silent ; and the inhabitants retired to their houses in a state of anxiety which defies description. Very early next morning, my friend set out for Quatre- Bras, moved by a natural sympathy, having seen the regiment in which he had once served, on its march to the scene of action. He was much affected by meeting on the road, on their way back from that scene, two English ladies on horse- back, unattended, in agonies of grief, which spoke too plainly its own cause. He saw the memorable ground of the brilliant action of Quatre-Bras, which, although forming really a part of Waterloo, has its own separate merits of the highest order. Let it never be forgotten that here, nine thou- sand men, Guards, Highlanders, and several other gallant regiments, with four thousand Brunswick, Belgian, and Hanoverian troops, without cavalry or artillery, actually drove back Marshal Ney with thirty thousand men, 18 BRUSSELS. and bivouacked for the night on their own position. Their loss was grievous. The Highland garb was parti- cularly conspicuous among the slain. These brave men, cheered in the morning by their admiring friends, when marching out of Brussels, were down in ranks. The strik- ing circumstance is noticed in a very spirited account of the campaign, published in Paris by a French officer, who was himself in the whole of it, to which I shall in the sequel make frequent reference.* In returning, my friend was alarmed on looking round, to see the English troops in retreat — that necessary movement, which enabled Lord Wellington to concentrate his whole force at Waterloo, about eight miles in rear of Quatre-Bras, a position chosen and mapped out a week before. He was soon overtaken, and the road was so completely choked up that his gig could with difficulty proceed. He thought of leaving it, and taking to the fields ; but, finding that he got on at least at the pace of the retreating army, he kept his seat, and arrived safe on the Saturday night at Brussels. It thundered and lightened fearfully. Successive reports were spread in Brussels, that the French had carried all before them, and were at the gates, to massacre, plunder, and burn. About mid-day on the Saturday, many foreign soldiers began to arrive at Brussels. They were at first mistaken for French ; but when they were known, their flight and panic gave even greater alarm. Although at least fifteen miles from a Frenchman, the horsemen galloped, cutting their horses with their sabres, the infantry ran, and the * " The road and skirts of the wood were concealed by heaps of dead, of which the greater part were Scotch. Their costume, which consists of a kind of short wrapping coat, (une jaquette plm4e,) made of a sort of brown stuff interspersed with stripes of blue, and which, hardly reaching so low as the knee, leaves a part of the limb un- covered, singularly attracted the attention of the French soldiers, who called them sans culottes." — Relation by an Eye- Witness. BRUSSELS. 19 whole passed on the road under my friend's window, at which his lady sat in indescribable anxiety and terror. Nobody would admit the fugitives ; the gate Namur, and all the entrances to the town, were closed ; and many English gentlemen were seen urging them to return to their colours. They lay down in numbers, on the pave- ments of the suburbs, and on the boulevards under the walls. Towards the afternoon, the wounded English of Quatre- Bras began to arrive ; and instead of shutting the gates against them, multitudes went out to meet them, and each family was anxious to find if their own inmate was among them. Even the ladies attended them, and dressed their wounds. Sunday came, and the battle, about nine miles off, began to roar. It was described by the inhabitants of Brussels, as one uninterrupted peal of thunder in their ears for ten hours. " Then great events were in the gale, And each hour brought a varying tale." But the fears of the inhabitants always persuaded them that the French were victorious. What then must they have felt when English baggage passed through Brus- sels and crowded the road to Antwerp. No wonder that the rumour was then believed, that the French had gained the victory. The entire population wished to fly — satis- factory evidence of no great attachment to the French. " We are lost, we are lost !" was the only cry to be heard among the inhabitants. My friend resolved on flight on his lady's account, and had the extraordinary fortune to reach Mechline, about fifteen miles, unhurt. They got a place in the track-boat on the canal ; and, being close to the road, saw all its horrors. When horses fell, the waggon wheels crushed the rider ; baggage was thrown off and carried away by the peasants to be cut open and 20 BRUSSELS. plundered. Great sums of money were in this way lost ; and clothes and other property spread over the fields. An English officer, who had lost a foot, and was carried on his servant's back, came and begged to be taken into the boat. He was known to my friend, who, although the passengers, intent on self-preservation, opposed it, by absolute force obtained his admission. At Mechline they found it very difficult to obtain admission into a house, and the difficulty was increased when the people were told that the lady was ill. Most providentially they procured a carriage to Antwerp next day. On their arrival there, they heard an altercation between their coachman and a woman on the top, whom he had taken up, and would not let down till she paid a franc. They found this poor ddtenue to be the widow, newly so made, of a soldier killed at Quatre-Bras ; and the mother of a child which she had the day before seen crushed to death by a waggon wheel ! Many of the wounded were tra- velling the same road : some had lost a hand or an arm, multitudes were on foot, and all sorts of carriages and horses crowded the road and increased the danger. The scene was beyond description horrible ; but a feeling of terror and self-preservation much diminished the concern for the sufferers. This is too common in the horrors of war. The persons crushed in the flight to Antwerp were thrown into the ditches, and all this was witnessed by my friend and his wife. The confusion was dreadful, yet no one had seen a single Frenchman. When my friends arrived at Antwerp, the first sight they saw was heart-rending. An officer's lady had just learned that her husband's head had been shot off at Quatre-Bras. The poor lady was running about the market-place, hysterical and delirious, with a little boy crying and running after her. " My husband is not dead, he is just coming ; his head is not shot off." The people did all they could to console her. BRUSSELS. 21 Hardly had they sat down in Antwerp, when an alarm of a different kind was spread, which added to their terrors. A servant of the hotel ran into the room, almost breathless, calling, " Fen, feu, feu ! " " Where is the fire ? " " 0, it is in a vessel on the canal, in the midst of several powder-ships, and the whole town will share the fate of Leyden."* To their great relief, they were soon informed that the fire was got under. In the course of the Monday, the news of the defeat of the French arrived ; and on the following day my friend and his lady returned to Brussels. On the Wednesday he visited the field of Waterloo. The scene was inde- scribably horrible. The quantity of caps and hats strewed on the ground was very great. At a distance, it appeared as if the field had been covered with crows. When he came to the spot, the sight was appalling. At first there was a great preponderance of British slain ; but more in advance, the revenge made itself dreadfully marked, for several French lay dead for one British. The field was so much covered with blood, that it appeared as if it had been flooded with it ; dead horses seemed innumerable. The peasantry got much booty when they ventured out of the wood after the battle. A great quantity of cap-plates, cuirasses, &c, were gathered by them, to be sold as relics. The scene was for a time exposed to a new and in- tolerable annoyance, which a few gendarmes might have prevented. Prussian stragglers robbed visitors to the field. I saw an inhabitant of Brussels who was there on the Thursday after the battle, and had reached the road about, a quarter of a mile beyond Belle Alliance, when round a rising ground galloped a Prussian hussar with drawn sabre, to whom he gave his watch and money to save his life ; and when the sufferer returned to the vil- * The explosion in Leyden in "1807. 22 BRUSSELS. lage of Mont St Jean, he related his mal-adventure to one of our own countrymen, who had shared the same fate. I had the good fortune to travel from Brussels to Paris with a young Irish officer and his young wife, an Ant- werp lady of great beauty and very pleasing manners. The officer had been in the battle of Quatre-Bras, as well as of Waterloo ; and to him I owe some of my minutest and most interesting information. An anecdote of bis fair Belgian, which he justly took some pride in relating, will further serve to give an idea of the kind of scenes then occurring, the horrors and the dangers of which it is so difficult to describe. He was in cantonments at Nivelles, having his wife with him. The unexpected advance of the French called him off on a moment's notice to Quatre- Bras ; but he left his servant with his wife, one horse, and the family baggage, which was packed upon a large ass. Betreat at the time was not anticipated, but was suddenly ordered on the Saturday morning, when he con- trived to get a message to his wife to make the best of her way, attended by the servant, to Brussels. The servant, a foreigner, had availed himself of the opportunity to take leave of both master and mistress, and made off with the horse, which had been left for the use of the latter. With a firmness becoming the wife of a British officer, she boldly commenced on foot her own retreat of twenty-five miles, leading the ass, and carefully preserving the baggage. No violence was dared by any one to so interesting a pilgrim, but no one could afford to assist her. She was soon in the midst of the retreating British army, and much retarded and endangered by the artillery. Her fatigue was great ; it rained in water-spouts, and the thunder and lightning were fearful. She continued her route, and got upon the great road from Charleroi to Brussels at Waterloo, when the army on the Saturday evening were taking up their line. In so extensive a field and large a force, it was in vain to seek her hus- BRUSSELS. 23 band ; she knew, moreover, that the sight of her there ■would only have embarrassed and distressed him ; she kept, therefore, slowly moving on to Brussels all the Saturday night, the road crowded with all sorts of con- veyances, waggons, and horses ; multitudes of native fugitives upon it, and many flying into the great wood ; whilst the wounded worked their painful way, and some dropped to breathe their last. Many persons were ac- tually killed by others, if by chance they stood in the way of their endeavours to save themselves. And to add to the horrors, the rain continued unabated, and the thunder and lightning still raged as if the heavens were rent asunder. Eight miles farther, in the night, this young woman marched in the mud, her boots worn off, so that she was nearly barefooted ; but still unhurt, she continued to advance ; and although many lost their baggage, and many their lives, she entered Brussels in the morning in safety, and without the loss of an article. In a few hours after her arrival commenced the can- non's roar of the tremendous Sunday, exposed to which, for many hours, she knew her husband to be ; and after a day and night of agony, she was rewarded by finding herself in his arms, he unhurt, and she nothing the worse, on the day after the battle. The officer told me the tale with tears in his eyes. He called her his " dear little woman," and said she became more valuable to him every day. I seldom have seen a more gentlemanlike young man j and assuredly his pretty Belgian seemed almost to adore him. It gave additional value to the foregoing anecdote, that I had it from the actors in the scene described. When I remarked that she resembled the famous Elizabeth of Siberia, the lady exclaimed, "Ah I ma mere dit la meme chose ! " We paid a visit to the beautiful palace of Laken, in the vicinity, from which Buonaparte had dated the pro- c 24 BRUSSELS. clamations to the Belgians, taken in his baggage. It is a fine house, something like the Register House of Edin- burgh, with the same kind of dome, but having a more elegant appearance, from its ornaments in statuary.* It is situated on the summit of a beautiful sloping ground, all of which is laid out with great taste in the manner of English landscape-gardening. The apartments in the palace are in good style and taste, though far inferior in magnificence to those of the palace at Amsterdam ; but in convenience and elegance I think they have the advan- tage. Laken, like Amsterdam, was furnished from Paris by Buonaparte. His favourite apartments are shown as a kind of trophies, by the servants of the present royal owner — his bedroom, and, above all, his bath. A Dutch young lady, who was of our party, was persuaded to pull the gold tassel of the bath bell, which Napoleon must often have handled ; but with great horror, and perfect gravity, immediately rubbed her hand to wipe off the pollution. In Brussels we saw the grand museum, to which pur- pose the ancient palace of the Spanish government of the country is converted : the library appears good, and the paintings are numerous, and by the masters of nearly all the schools. We likewise saw a private collection, be- longing to an old gentleman, and were much pleased with it. The proprietor, M. Bourtine, went through the rooms with us himself. We went to the theatre, which is much superior to that of Antwerp, and saw part of a French comedy. The King, who had just arrived from Holland, was present, which gave us an opportunity of observing how he was received by his new subjects. Nothing could * In front of the Register House stands Steele's equestrian statue of the immortal Wellington, by far the finest in Britain. It was inaugurated on the last 18th of June, before its great original died. The Iron Duke in Brass by Steel ! was a day's pleasantry upon it BRUSSELS. 25 be more loyal and flattering than their reception of him ; and many allusions were made to the brave Prince and his glorious wound — a most valuable wound for the House of Orange. I delivered a collection of numbers of the Transac- tions of the Koyal Society of Edinburgh, to Mr Van Mons, a Brussels savant. Even his conversation was all of Waterloo, and that interminable theme, the Scotch regiments. One Highland sergeant, formerly billeted in Mr Van Mons' house, came back, with the basket hilt of his sword so bruised that he could not get his hand out of it till relieved by a blacksmith. He made very light of his wounds, and only hoped soon to be able to join. The enemy had not disarmed him, at least ! In crossing the grand market-place of Brussels,, from Mr Van Mons' house, I saw women riding, after the fashion of the other sex. One was sitting on a tall horse, haranguing a crowd as a mountebank doctress, attended by a man who beat a drum. Her fluency of speech was great. Indeed, I saw women frequently addressing the public in long speeches, recommending their wares, or glossing over their impositions, A foolish report was current in Brussels, that the Netherlands were to be exchanged by Holland with Eng- land for Hanover. The arrangement, however, seemed to give very general satisfaction. Nothing can exceed the present popularity of the English, and the change of sen- timent of the former friends of France since the battle. All benefit from France is now at an end, and loyalty has become the best policy. It will improve as public affairs get arranged. The men are everywhere training to arms for the house of Orange, who have risen im- mensely in public esteem since the Prince's spirited con- duct in the battle. I learned from my medical friends, that when they found my wounded relative, formerly mentioned, he told 26 BRUSSELS. them that he was shot in the wood of Quatre-Bras ; and when carried to the rear, had recollection enough to be sensible that three attempts were made by the enemy's tirailleurs to take his life. He spent the night in a cot- tage, which was soon filled with the wounded, several of whom died before the morning. Fortunately for him, the enemy's troops did not move early next day ; and having set oif some hours before the retreat, he passed "Waterloo without being overtaken. He was held upon his horse by his servant, assisted by several soldiers of his own company who were not wounded, and was repeatedly laid down on the road-side, exhausted with pain and loss of blood. Had the enemy driven back the British on the preceding day, he must have remained in their hands.* * He has himself, since I have seen him, confirmed the above account. Hie description of a close encounter with the enemy, which fell to the lot of his company of the Guards, is amusing, and anything but complimentary to the invincible French. While his own men advanced steadily and silently, the French fidgeted about and gabbled, crying out, " En, avant I en avant ! " all the while continuing to recede. The wood was cleared of them by the Guards. CHAPTER III. VISIT TO THE FIELD. With that intensity of feeling, which the expectation of soon seeing the field of such a battle as Waterloo natu- rally occasioned, our party, consisting of three, was in readiness by six in the morning. There had been rain during the night, and the morning was gloomy — having, as we were told, the same appearance as that of the 18th of June. The ground would be wet, but so it was on the day of the battle ; and, moreover, in point of time, we should arrive about the hour it commenced. After proceeding three or four miles, we entered the forest of Soigne. It covers a great extent of country from east to west, but is only about five miles broad, where the road passes through it to Waterloo. This forest was the great source of supply of ship-timber for Napoleon's naval schemes at Antwerp, and already had built several ships of the line. The same forest which was intended to furnish the means of her humiliation, protected the rear of her victorious army on the day when England, at one blow, destroyed the power of her would-be destroyer for ever. Every foot of the road was interesting, as it held its straight course through the wood. We contrasted the gloomy quiet of our journey — a few peasants going to their early labour — with its accumulated horrors on the 28 VISIT TO THE FIELD. day of the retreat of the baggage and wounded of the army ; the multitudes that dropped and died ; the num- bers who were crushed to death ; the hurry, the alarm, the confusion ; the cries, and shrieks, and groans of that dread- ful scene ; and the unprotected " Elizabeth," steadily and safely holding her way in the middle of it all. Our car- riage kept the paved chaussee, or centre of the way ; the two sides, of about fifteen feet wide each, being deep and muddy, as they were on the great occasion. The whole breadth of the road seemed to be forty or fifty feet. The trees which bounded it on each side were tall, and trimmed like a very high hedge or screen ; beyond them immediately commenced the thicker and more irregular wood. Here the wounded had crawled, and died in great numbers ; much baggage had been plundered, and the whole population of the country had fled for safety. Our postilion pointed out the little mounds where men and horses had been interred. The sepulture had been hurried and imperfect, especially of the horses — hoofs, and even limbs, occasionally showing themselves. Often bayonet scabbards stuck out ; and caps, shoes, and pieces of cloth, scarcely in the gloom distinguishable from the mud in which they lay, gave indication of the spots where many a soldier, after bleeding in the field, and toiling along the road to expected aid and comfort, unassisted, unpitied, by the self-engaged sufferers who saw him fall, had sunk to rise no more. Some rain fell as we were bestowing a passing survey upon these affecting memo- rials of the brave, in a situation peculiarly dismal. Waterloo's village, and small neat church with its dome, was now in our view, situated in a recess of the wood which had been cleared for it. The road was now quite out of the forest; which, however, darkened the whole region to east and west, as far as the eye could reach. The inhabitants of the hamlet have been at pains to pre 7 serve the chalking on the doors, on which we recognised VISIT TO THE FIELD. 29 the names of celebrated officers, or of the offices of the several departments at headquarters. We were immediately surrounded by the people, offer- ing for sale, with great importunity, relics of the field ; particularly the eagles which the French soldiers wore as cap-plates. A few cuirasses, both the back and the breast pieces, were likewise held up to us, as well as sabres, bayonets, and other spoil. We drove a mile forward to the still smaller hamlet of Mont St Jean, by a gradual ascent of }he road, to right and left of which the British army bivouacked on the eve of the battle — having advanced over the crest in the morning, to the southern slope facing the enemy, on fair open ground, without an advantage, to decide the fate of the world. ■ Mont St Jean is quite behind the British line, and had its name given by Buonaparte to what was properly the farm-house of La Haye Sainte, which, after repeated faihires, he did succeed in carrying ; but certainly his troops never were so far advanced as Mont St Jean — indeed, never did, for more than a few minutes at any time, succeed in penetrating the British line. We left our carriage at this hamlet, and walked on to the field with nervous anticipation. To the right and left were the multiplied marks of the artillery wheels, as, rivalling " lightning's course in ruin and in speed," they had careered to their station in the line. Whole tracks were marked by the feet of the cavalry in the mud. The last homes of the brave began to appear, with the larger tumuli of their horses, more frequent as we approached the scene of contest. Keeping still the great road, we came to a tree which formed the precise centre of the British line ; the well-chosen station of the Duke of Wel- lington, when not visiting other parts of the position to confirm the unflinching spirit of his gallant comrades. It commanded a full view of the intermediate plain, and 30 VISIT TO THE FIELD. • the whole of the enemy's force upon the adverse height, with every movement made or threatened by him. Nothing is more fake than the French assertion (added to their never-failing pretence of being overpowered by numbers) that the British position was naturally strong and carefully fortified. Unintrenched stood the British army, along its whole position, on a slope so gentle that a car- riage driving up would scarcely slacken speed ; and to the ridge of which the French cavalry found no difficulty in galloping almost to the very bayonets of their oppo- nents, who threw themselves into squares — their only intrenchments — to receive the charge. It was, to use an English phrase, just the place for " a fair set-to ; a clear field and no favour." We had the good fortune to meet with a very intelli- gent English officer, who had been in the action, and who had that day paid his first visit to the field after recover- ing from his wound. From Lord Wellington's station we stood and gazed in silence on the whole scene. And deep was now the silence, contrasted with the roar of the battle. The gloomy weather still lasted, and was preferred by us, as peculiarly suitable to the scene we were contemplating. The conception is much aided by viewing the field of a battle. The actors being more familiar to us, we can people the scene with them, and become actually present, as it were, in the action. Indeed, so very simple is the field of Waterloo, that a conception of very ordinary power may quite take it in from description alone.* It will serve all popular purposes to say that, at the distance from each other of about a mile, the contending armies occupied parallel high grounds, sloping with almost equal declivity to a plain, of about half a mile broad, which * See the first in order of the two Plans annexed ; warranted by official authority. VISIT TO THE FIELD. 31 intervened. The English lines extended about three miles and a half; the French nearly three. The Brussels road ran at right angles through both armies, form- ing the centre of each. On this road, in one line, were the villages of Waterloo and Mont St Jean, and the farm- houses of La Haye Sainte and La Belle Alliance ; while the only other place which requires to be referred to is the memorable chateau of Hougomont, advanced some way in front of nearly the centre of the right wing of the British army. The road from Brussels to Nivelles, which branches off at Waterloo from the great road already described, passed the right of the army ; which last being thrown back into a curve, crossed the angle formed by the two roads, like the scale of a quadrant. Smaller roads and foot-paths intersected the field in numerous directions, none of them of any importance in the affair, excepting always those which admitted the brave Prus- sians to their share in the well-fought field. The night before the battle, the troops lay down, in rear of the fighting position, already drenched with the heavy rain, in the mud of the ground. It has been remarked that, by a fatality, our armies have often had unfavourable weather for their greater exploits. The country had been quite dry till the movement of the troops from their cantonments ; but on the 17th, the thunder, lightning, and rain, continued almost without intermission, till the morning of Waterloo, when they ceased ; but the weather continued gloomy till the even- ing. Fortunately there was too much excitement of spirit, for the physical inconvenience to be much felt, either at the time or afterwards. The men were fresh from cantonments ; and their toil, though severe, was short. Never did British army take the field in better condition. The cavalry especially felt the advantage of fighting before losing the effects of their superior keep- ing, by the toils and privations of a campaign. 32 VISIT TO THE FIELD. The Irish officer, formerly mentioned as my travelling companion to Paris, recounted the effect of the wet bivouac on himself, in a manner which gives a striking view of the high feeling of the men who sustain, in the field, the honour of our country. When he rose up about six o'clock in the morning, he could not stand, from a violent shivering, but fell down in the mud again. He made several efforts, but in vain. Without dreaming, when he recounted the circumstance, of an inference favourable to himself, which he was not aware that I was drawing, he described his feelings to have been perfect agony, arising from the dread that he should not be able to do his duty. An hour or two, and a little brandy revived him ; and when he found he could stand, his relief of mind amounted to exquisite joy. Yet an army of ferocious enemies were full in his view ; he heard their shouts or rather yells — the prelude to the onset ; death was looming in its most threatening aspect ; in the gloom of the morning, the broad and deep masses of the foe, with their reserves yet further and further back, appeared, he said, as if the forest of Soigne had changed its ground ; yet did this fearless youth's heart leap for joy, when he found himself able, for the honour of Ireland, to stand up to the coming storm ; like the Oneida chief — " Fearing but the shame of fear." I heard, in Paris, an officer of the 95th, with the same manly absence of self-gratulation, give a similar account of his own trials on the dawn of Waterloo. Who can wonder at the virtue with which the entire day was sus- tained, when such were the feelings with which the battle was waited for, and begun ! As we stood on our commanding spot, the thought naturally occurred, what were the numbers that peopled the scene on the 18th of June, as well on our own ground as on that of the enemy, now all under our eye? Of VISIT TO THE FIELD. 33 neither were the current estimates then accurate. The force on both sides was greatly exaggerated — each by its adversary. Whilst the victors sought to swell their trumpet-sound by boasting of the superiority in number of the enemy they had defeated, the vanquished were not slow in reiterating that they yielded to overwhelming numbers alone. It would be out of place, in a sketch like the present, to go into minute official details ; but the result of these may be stated in a very few words. Of the large army with which Napoleon entered Belgium, after its losses at Ligny and Quatre-Bras, and the detach- ment under Marshal Grouchy, he brought into action at Waterloo 71,947 fighting men of all arms. This force was met by the Duke of Wellington, after his detach- ments for garrisons, with 67,655. In cavalry the French exceeded the Allies in the proportion of 15,765 to 12,402; in artillery, 7232 to 5645 ; and in guns, 246 to 156.* * The reader is referred to Gleig and Siborne for official details of the numbers. The former gives the following concise table : — British, . ' . King's German Legion, Hanoverians, . Brunswickers, Nassauers, Dutch-Belgians, Total Infantry. Cavalry. Artillery. Guns. 15,181 3,304 10,258 4,586 2,880 13,402 5,843 1,991 467 866 3^205 2,967 526 465 510 l,il7 78 18 12 16 32 49,608 12,402 5,645 156 Grand total, 67,655 men, and 156 guns. French Infantry, Cavalry, Artillery, 48,950 15,765 7,232 Total, . . 71,947 men— 246 guns. Against this latter force the battle may be said to have mainly depended upon 23,991 British troops, and 5821 of the German Legion, or 29,812 men — say 30,000. This may be said consistently with giving all due credit to the allied contingents, the very great majority of which behaved well, and greatly added to the weight 34 VISIT TO THE FIELD. The mere numbers, therefore, were not widely different. The balance was in favour of the French on the whole, and very considerably in cavalry and artillery. Their troops, too, were, to a great extent, veterans inured to war, in the highest state of discipline — and all French. The greater part of the allied army was composed of troops that had never been under fire. The British regi- ments, for the most part, were second battalions, com- paratively few of the Peninsular soldiers having fought at Waterloo. The allied contingents — with the exception of the King's German Legion, which was as good as the best of the British, and the Brunswickers and Hanoverians, — were raw and ill-disciplined, and by no means to be depended upon. Begiments of Dutch-Belgians fled ; while those who stood required all the watchfulness and en- couragement of the British officers, and the example of the men, to keep steady. Considering the composition of the respective armies, the odds against the Duke of Wel- lington were terrible. What, then, gained the victory 1 There is but one answer : a higher morale. This quality pervaded the British troops, new to battle though they were ; and the vital share of the great Duke in the vic- tory was keeping that spirit up, and supplying it fresh of the final charge, by the whole allied army, in the evening. The author may add, that the exaggeration of the numbers in his former editions were the current belief at the time. Blucher's despatches states the British army at 88,000, and the French at 130,000 ; while the French bulletin gives the British 80,000, with 15,000 Prussians "in line" on their left — in all, 90,000 ; and then adds, "ours less numerous." A French officer, who fought under Napoleon, pub- lished a Relation of the battle, a translation of which is referred to in the text, understood to be the work of Mr John Lockhart, editor of the Quarterly Review. He states the French army at 120,000 ; which force, he adds, was "ecrasi (overwhelmed) par le nombre " by the British army. This was a ridiculous statement. Large masses of the French were often repulsed by very inferior numbers. Witness 300 of the 92d Highlanders against 3000 of the enemy. VISIT TO THE FIELD. 35 every hour of the day from the stores of his own gallant heart, cool head, and matchless constancy. He wielded the living machine in a manner to which Europe could have furnished no parallel. Buonaparte, with his usual presumption, persuaded himself that the British general did not mean to make a stand, but was in full and continued retreat. He was rejoiced, or affected to be so, when he saw his troops in position in the morning ; and is said, extending his arm towards them, to have exclaimed — "Ah ! je les tiens done, ces Anglais 1" The Duke did not show his whole force, a large por- tion being in line behind the crest of the position. This surprised his opponent ; and, on his remarking it to General Foy, who spoke from experience, the latter is said to have answered, " Wellington conceals his troops till they are needed ; but your Majesty will see them in due time. They are the devil in close fight." " Allons done," replied the Emperor, "nous verrons;" and gave orders for the attack, himself, it is said, firing the first gun. The battle commenced, according to the Duke, about ten o'clock, by the advance (and we distinctly saw their course) of one entire corps d'armee on the right centre of the British line. The attack had for its first object to carry the post of Hougomont, the key of the position ; in possession of which, the French could have turned the British right. That force, under King Jerome, began the battle. As admitted by the Relation, fresh reinforce- ments were sent to this scene of carnage repeatedly to no purpose. The utmost success of 20,000 men, of all arms, was to force the 1st, 2d, and 3d Foot Guards, under the command of Lord Saltoun, to take refuge within the post, instead of defending the wood on the outside of it. The post itself was never occupied by the enemy for a moment. The Guards kept it the entire day, in spite of 36 VISIT TO THE FIELD. grape and musketry and balls and shells and flames, till they issued from it in the hour of victory.* Two hours, a delay unaccountable to the Duke of Wel- lington, elapsed between the first attack on Hougomont, and any farther advance by the enemy — for cannon roared from both positions the whole day. A large force of 20,000 men, of all arms, and 70 guns, under Ney, stood all that time prepared for an attack on the British left wing. An alarm, which reached Napoleon, that the Prussians were near, in force, rendered a strong reconnois- sance necessary, which consumed the time, and favoured the British general by so far throwing the final rout of the enemy into the night. The alarm proving ground- less, the force advanced in four columns, with character- istic bravery, about two o'clock. A tremendous fire from our artillery, in front and flank, greatly damaged the columns, but did not check them. With cries of " Vive l'Empereur," and yells that were described as demoniac, they advanced. The entire slope in view of the left wing swarmed with infantry, cavalry, and artillery. It was surveyed in silence by our men — " the fearful silence of the English," as the French describe it ; but the bravest "held his breath for a time." No sound was heard but the words " Steady, men ! " occasionally from the mounted officers, who felt that they addressed young sol- diers, and could not help feeling anxious. As one field bfficer had uttered the encouraging word, he was ad- dressed by a sergeant, who turned round and said, " Never fear us, sir : we know our duty." ' He was at once reassured. The French column, on their right, attacked a corps of Dutch and Belgians on the left of the British line, which scarcely stood at all, but broke and fled, and were never more seen. Picton's soldiers absolutely hissed * The details of this matchless defence, as recorded by Gleig and Siborne, are perfectly marvellous. VISIT TO THE FIELD. 37 themj while many officers, and another and braver corps of their own countrymen, endeavoured in vain to stop them. The soldiers of Picton's division were much tempted to fire upon them ; but did not, although the belief pre- vailed in Holland that they actually did. It would have been wise in the Dutch to have said as little as possible on the delicate subject. The French column which de- feated the Dutch-Belgians did not pursue them, but became available to strengthen the two columns to their left, which attacked General Picton's division, consisting of the brigades of Kempt and Pack. A very different reception awaited them by these gallant officers. By a close fire, followed by a charge with the bayonet — ordered, with his well-known spirit, by Pioton himself — the two French columns in front of him were in a few minutes defeated. The right column gave way first, and fled down the slope in panic and confusion. The left was for a short time firm ; but was disposed of by one of the most brilliant feats of a combat unparalleled for brilliant feats in modern history. It was the fortune of the 92d regiment, (called by the French the yellow Highlanders, as distinguished from the 42d, whom, because of their blue facings, they named the Highland Guards) — re- duced as they had been at Quatre-Bras to 300 men — to find themselves face to face with a column of the enemy, without exaggeration, of ten times their own number. Of this they were regardless ; and, with levelled arms, rushed upon the front of the enemy's column. A cheer for the gallant Highlanders, from all that witnessed their fearlessness, increased their ardour ;* and no one who saw the few plumed bonnets actually mixed with the * The author has been often told by a friend, who was then an ensign in the 92d — now Major James Ross, long retired — that as he rushed forward upon several thousand " moustached devils," within a few yards, he scarcely felt the ground, and knew not whether his head or heels were uppermost. 38 VISIT TO THE FIELD. crowd of bear-skins, can ever forget the thrill of mingled admiration and dread which made their blood run cold. But 300 men was a small amount of actual matter mingled with 3000, and might have died of mere pres- sure and suffocation — when lo ! a noble band, just when needed, rushed to the rescue, and completed the feat so gallantly begun. The very ground trembled, as round the western end of the stunted hedge, which ran east- wards from the British centre — horses in high condition — men in steady determination — wheeled like a whirl- wind the Boyals, Greys, and Inniskillings — the Union Brigade — in high rivalry and irresistible brotherhood. " Scotland for ever 1" shouted the Greys, in admiration of their plaided countrymen. " Scotland for ever !" re- sponded the Highlanders. The effect was electrical — the enthusiasm wild. Rout is a weak word : the enemy could not manage a rout, for they could not get away : 2000 infantry threw down their arms and surrendered themselves ; every gun was taken ; and the cavalry were pursued. Some Highlanders, seizing hold of the stirrup- leathers of the Greys, ran — which Highlanders alone can do — at the rate of a horse's gallop, to have their share in the vengeance.* This was, as it is apt to be, carried too far. The " Unionists" themselves, dispersed over the plain, could not resist the attraction pf the flying cuirassiers ; and many of them were well up the enemy's acclivity, cutting down the cuirassiers, before they drew bridle to return. When they did, they were exposed to a heavy fire of reserves of infantry and artillery, and the charge of fresh columns of cuirassiers and lancers, before which * The French prisoners were sent to Brussels, gnashing their teeth with mortification and rage, and hoping to be amply revenged before the day was done. When first taken, many of the grenadiers, as witnessed by Major Ross, dashed their caps on the ground, and bitterly cried, " Accident I Accident !" Many of them shed tears of rage and shame. VISIT TO THE FIELD. 39 they had no choice but to fly back as rapidly as they advanced ; — a lesson to British cavalry, which it is hoped they will never forget, and save the enemy from calculat- ing upon this excess of gallantry, and arranging for its expected occurrence ; nay, even tempting it, by feigned defeat. It is said that the Duke regretted the rashness even more than he admired the gallantry, and character- istically said to those about him, " These brave fellows are squandering themselves away : they would confound the best laid plan of battle." And yet there was another magnificent body of British cavalry which rivalled their gallantry, and shared their error and its punishment : the brigade of Lord Edward Somerset consisted of the 1st Life Guards, the Blues, and 1st Dragoon Guards. Their charge, like that of the Union Brigade, drove before it, in confused flight, a large force of cuirassiers, which had advanced under a mistake. At the moment of the melee on their left, the right wing were ordered to move backwards and cover themselves by the ridge of the position, till they should be again wanted. This movement was observed from the French position, and mistaken for a retreat, which a large force of cuirassiers was ordered forward to follow. They gal- loped up the British incline in all the confidence of a supposed pursuit, little recking what awaited them. In- stead of a flying enemy, they were confounded to hear, and in an instant to see, the tremendous horse which had routed them the day before at Genappe during the re- treat, within a few yards of them. The surprise alone settled the matter : they were actually ridden down, cuirassiers and all. The words of the author of the Relation are, that they were louleverses et culbutes, which Boyer translates, "turned topsy-turvy;" and all of them that could, turned bridle and fled in confusion. A column of infantry — the fourth, under Ney — which had moved to D 40 VISIT TO THE FIELD. its left to attack La Haye Sainte, were just in time to take their share in this rout, and contributed their num- bers to cover the plain with fugitives. But the enemy had powerful reserves, whose flanking fire, with the charge of fresh and unbroken horse, fell upon the Somerset troopers at the same time with the Union, both in com- parative dispersion, and now mingling with each other. Both would have been destroyed, but for the most oppor- tune and resistless charge of another body of British cavalry, who came on, as cavalry ever should, in firm squadrons. Sir William Ponsonby, with Colonels Vivian and Vandaleur, led these splendid troops, the 11th, 12th, and 16th Light Dragoons. They literally rode through and through the flanking infantry, overthrew the cavalry, and cleared the plain. Ponsonby fell from his horse severely wounded, and was left for dead on the ground. The Greys and their comrades returned to their place in position, to learn that the noble Picton was no more : he fell in the front of the spirited movement which he had directed. The command to charge had just passed his lips, when he fell from his horse a lifeless corpse. There lay the stern warrior, whom even Wellington feared — " With his back to the ground, and his feet to the foe, Leaving in battle no blot on his name." If " short greeting serves in time of strife," lamentation itself must be brief, and reserved till the loss is reflected upon. The melancholy but instant duty of Sir James Kempt was to take the place so suddenly vacated. The Picton warriors were now to look to him and his gallant colleague, Sir Dennis Pack ; and, under their leadership, had yet more laurels to gather in that bloody field. There were other losses to deplore. The colonel of the 12th was killed ; and, more touching to the author, a young connection of his own, a cornet, in his first battle,* * John, the eldest son of William Elliot Lockhart, M.P. for Sel- kirkshire. VISIT TO THE FIELD. 41 fell to rise no more. He was seen, while waving his sabre in front of his men, to fall forward on his pommel, struck by a grape-shot. Our officer pointed out the spot where he lay — a prouder monument, the turf on which the soldier falls, than the proudest mausoleum in consecrated ground ! If those who occupied our present ground had the well fought rounds now faintly described in full view, so had Napoleon's station, about a mile along the road from where we stood. With a poor farmer named Lacoste pinioned on horseback beside him, sat the Emperor, un- able to conceal his astonishment and dismay at the recoil and flight of his troops, and constrained repeatedly to mutter compliments to the spirit of the British cavalry. " These English fight admirably," said he to Soult ; " but they must give way." " No, Sire, they prefer being cut to pieces," was the answer of one who knew something of them. The Greys especially struck him, and he often repeated, " Quelles superbes troupes !" After repeated unsuccessful efforts, with large masses, to take the farm-house of La Haye Sainte, the enemy succeeded in that object late in the afternoon. The post was advanced two or three hundred yards from the centre of the British position. The enemy had not a moment even of temporary success in the line ; but they did establish themselves, with great force, in the post of La Haye Sainte, in consequence, as the Duke of Wellington's account testifies, of the failure of the ammunition of a detachment of German troops, to which its defence was committed — a failure which, from the position and great strength of the assailants, it was at the time considered impossible to supply. This very limited, and, as it turned out, bootless success of the enemy, it appears, was matter pf much self-reproach to the Duke. He has been heard to use very hard words, when speaking of what he calls his want of presence of mind on the occasion. It was 42 , VISIT TO THE FIELD. impossible to send ammunition in by the gates at the two sides of the farmyard, but it might have approached the back of the house, under cover of the British fire, and been handed in by an aperture made on purpose. Considering what the general on such a day had to think of, it will not be thought surprising that, with all his commanding influ- ence, the Duke of Wellington has not succeeded in in- ducing any of his auditors to join him in the accusation. He had one comfort : the post, when carried, did no good to the captors. It neutralised a large force, and never for a moment shook the British centre. The attacks now described as made and defeated, were, like the heats of a race, brief, when compared with the intervals, which, like those of a race, were sometimes long. During these our troops rested on the ground, generally withdrawn behind the crest of their position, to avoid the cannonade from the enemy's line, which scarcely ceased during the entire day. When we talk, therefore, of a ten hours' struggle, we do not mean a constant close fight during all that time. The visits of infantry were more rare than those of cavalry and horse-artillery. The infantry, unless when from their masses they could not avoid it, never once crossed bayonets with the British. It has been observed that there is an average limit to the endur- ance by troops of a heavy and well-directed fire of mus- ketry — namely, from ten minutes to a quarter of an hour ; after this, officers who would avoid defeat withdraw their men when they have failed in their attack. The French infantry's example during the day afforded no exception to this apparently natural law. The breadth of fire from the British infantry deployed, afforded a fair trial of the truth of the phenomenon ; so that their threatened bayonet charges, with the exceptions mentioned, were, in no instance, actually waited for. Of this fact there is no doubt what- ever. When the British lines had driven off the French infantry, they were promptly again in squares, at such distances from each other as to admit of deployment into VISIT TO THE FIELD. 43 line when expedient, and, moreover, chequerwise, so that cavalry charging any one square were assailed by the fire of three at once. The effect of this was deadly. While the squares suffered little from cavalry attacks, which they baffled, the destruction of their mounted assailants was fearful ; and, added to the fire of the artillery received by them as they advanced — (the artillerymen unlimbering and taking refuge in the nearest squares, leaving their guns, which cavalry could neither use nor carry away) — and the fire of the infantry, followed up by the British and sometimes German cavalry, we can almost believe the author of the Relation — an adversary's testimony — when, describing the conclusion of the battle, he says — " Our own cavalry were entirely destroyed." No wonder ; for the great cavalry attacks which the British defeated were ten in number ! The enemy seemed neter to learn by ex- perience that these attacks were absolute insanity. Even charging, as they often did, with the most undaunted bravery, to the crest of the British position, they never could keep it ; but were forced to turn and fly as often as they had taken their "ten minutes'" allowance, and, as many as could, to gallop down again faster than they came up, with British or German horse in close pursuit. Moreover, the cavalry attacks did not occasion serious loss to our infantry. These were, however, terribly thinned by the enemy's artillery, and considerably by their musketry. It is not to be wondered at that our patient soldiers wearied by a long day so employed, expressed impatience to be led on to finish the contest, as they thought, at once. There can be no better proof of the determined spirit of a defence, than an urgent wish to convert it into an attack. An officer of the 95th regiment told the author that, on a visit of the Duke to their square when a body of French infantry were opposite to them, a cry arose from the men — " Let us at them, my Lord ! only let us down upon tbem ! " " Not yet," replied the Duke ; " not yet, my brave men ; 44 VISIT TO THE FIELD. but you shall have at them soon. Stand firm only a little longer." And firm they did stand, and firm stood every soldier in the British army, and made no boast of it — they were only doing their duty; and any three hundred of them, told off for that duty, would have fought Thermopylae itself in the ordinary course of business. In no part of the line did a thought of flinching from his allotted spot, or occupying any ground behind him but the breadth of his back where he stood, if he should fall, find a moment's shelter in the mind of the humblest British soldier at Waterloo. Glory — that noisy empty word always on the Frenchman's lips — is no fitting term for such manly, serious, silent steadfastness. Wellington's, like Nelson's, term for it was duty* " The English," says the intelli- gent and impartial author of " The Character of the diffe- rent European Armies," — himself a Frenchman — " the English are undoubtedly the most intrepid people in Europe; the people who, more than any other, meet death, and see it approach with coolness and indifferenca" Having, from our vantage-ground, gained a general idea of the field, we moved down to the farm-house of La Haye Sainte, to see the state in which the conflict had left that post, before making a circuit of inspection. Much of the wreck of the battle lay between the Duke of Wellington's station and the farm-house, which proved the hazard to which he had been exposed. The Relation admits the necessity of sending against La Haye Sainte de nouvelles forces, before it was taken, by the slaughter of almost all its brave defenders, whose ammunition was exhausted. It is an ordinary farm-house, and court of offices. The house forms one side of a square, and the offices the other three ; the court-yard collecting the manure in the middle, and * It has been observed, even by the French journals, since his death, that the word glory never occurs in the Duke of Wellington's despatches. In a consolatory letter to Lord Aberdeen on the death of his brother, Colonel Gordon, at Waterloo, he does use the term, but with much gracefulness, and no vain boasting. VISIT TO THE FIELD. 45 sheltering the cattle. The side opposite to the house is a long building for cows, the passage being separated from the cows' stalls by a parapet about four feet high. At each end of the passage is a large door or gate, both of which were literally riddled with musket-balls, fired from within and from without, is, could easily be distinguished from the kind of holes the balls had made. The bodies, after the action, were heaped up in the cow-stalls as high as the parapet. The whole farm-house, yard, and offices, might have afforded room for one thousand men to act. They had made loopholes for musketry all around the place ; and many a hole had been made for them by the enemy. The whole presented a scene of shattered ruin, which could not be looked upon without a degree of interest amounting to terror ; but it stood a noble monument of the deter- mined valour of our German brethren in arms. Some very poor children, who seemed to starve about the ruins, soon joined us, and began to beg from us quelque chose with most persevering importunity. Their miserable appearance was in perfect agreement with the scene of desolation about them. We saw no grown people who seemed to have any interest in the premises. Having succeeded in opening the shattered door which led out to the fields to the west, we saw several women still engaged in the lately most lucrative occupation of glean- ing up anything which they could sell to strangers. The same persons had very probably been active in stripping and plundering the slain before they were buried. We asked them where they were during the action : " All in the woods." Did they hear the noise? The answer was a shrug, and look pf dreadful recollection. . They seemed to be finding very little worth lifting. We were ourselves at the moment more fortunate, for lying among straw we found a bayonet, evidently marked with blood, which we brought away with us. We returned to the tree, and directed our steps west- ward along the British line to the right. There was no 46 VISIT TO THE FIELD. difficulty in tracing the line by the graves of the brave men, who had fallen where they stood. The survivors never quitted it, but to advance. The very ground was hallowed ; and we trode it with mingled pride and sorrow. If the unknown dead called forth these feelings, much more did the consciousness of standing on the spot, where some one known to us had fallen. We stood where the interesting Sir William De Lancey met his death, when rallying, with great spirit and effect, a battalion of Hano- verians that had got into confusion. He nobly refused to occupy the time of the surgeons with his wound, which he had heard them pronounce mortal when they thought him insensible. He was removed to the village of Waterloo^ where he died. This gallant young man's early name, and just favour with his great commander, excited general and deep interest for his fate, and nowhere more than in Edinburgh, where he had been married only a few weeks before. His lady, a daughter of Sir James Hall, and sister of Captain Basil Hall, had arrived at Brussels some time before, and attended his death-bed. Indeed, the instances of heroic death were as numerous as they are affecting. Colonel Miller * of the 1 st Guards requested a last sight of the colours under which he had fought. He kissed them fervently, and begged they might be waved over him till he expired. Captain Curzon, Lord Scarsdale's son, met his fate with something like " military glee." In falling from his horse, he called out to Lord March, who was riding with him at a gallop — "Good-by, dear March." And by one effort more, when his friend had left him for the urgent duty of animating a foreign corps in very critical circumstances, he looked up and cried, " Well done, dear March." The idea strongly occurred of the next day's horrors of such a field as Waterloo. Numbers of the desperately * Sou of Sir William Miller of Glenlee, one of the Scotch Judges. VISIT TO THE FIELD. 47 wounded and dying, in the midst of the dead, raised their heads, when visitors to the scene passed them, to implore water, or to beg death at their hands to end their agonies. Many of the wounded were not removed till the Wednes- day, the third day after the battle.* All was now hushed in the stillness of a long line of graves. No one who has not seen it, can imagine how touching it is to observe, strewed on these, fragments of what the brave men wore or carried when they fell. Among the straw of the trodden-down corn, which still covered the field, lay caps, shoes, pieces of uniforms and shirts, tufts, cockades, feathers, ornamental horse-hair red and black, and, what most struck us, great • quantities of letters and leaves of books. The latter were all too much defaced by rain and mud to make it worth our while to lift any of them. In one letter we could just make out the words, so affecting in the circumstances, "My dear husband." We brought away some leaves of a German hymn-book j and probably, had we had time, might have found something curious in a department in which the peasants seemed not at all to have anticipated us. We noticed a characteristic distinction. While the debris on the allied ground showed leaves of Bibles and prayer- books, we saw numbers of playing-cards on the French. The author picked up the livrette, or account-book, much defaced with blood, of a French soldier, lately a conscript. We were now on the station of the Prince of Orange, where he received his wound. The Dutch and Belgians under his immediate command behaved very gallantly. The Prince is said, in a moment of chivalrous feeling, when applauding their valour, to have torn the star from his breast, and thrown it into their column j adding, that he did not know who best deserved it, and therefore he gave it among them. A gay regiment of light-horse were in the battle of * See Appendix, No. I. — Sufferings of Sir William Ponsonby. 48 VISIT TO THE FIELD. Waterloo, all inhabitants of a Continental city, which I shall not name. An opportunity occurred for them to charge the French cavalry, and an aide-de-camp came to them, with an order or request to that effect, from Lord Wellington. Their colonel, in great surprise, objected the enemy's strength — their cuirasses, and the consideration which had unaccountably, he said, escaped the Commander- in-Chief, that his regiment were all gentlemen. This divert- ing response was carried back to the Duke, who des- patched the messenger again to say, that if the gentlemen would take post upon an eminence, which he pointed to in the rear, they would have an excellent view of the battle, and he would leave the choice of a proper time to charge entirely to their own sagacity and discretion, in which he had the fullest confidence ! The colonel actually thanked the aide-de-camp for this distinguished honour, and, fol- lowed by his gallant train with their very high plumes, (the present great point of Continental military foppery,) was out of danger in a moment. No part of the field was more fertile in associations than the ground of the 30th, to which the Irish officer already mentioned belonged, and, I believe, the 73d regi- ments, brigaded under our gallant countryman, severely wounded in the battle, Sir Colin Halket. I had already heard much of the firmness of these brave troops, and was to hear still more. To no square did the artillery, and particularly the cuirassiers, pay more frequent visits, but N without ever shaking them for a moment. Their almost intimacy with these death-bringing visitants increased so much as the day advanced, that they began to recognise their faces. Their boldness piqued the soldiers. Some of them galloped up to the bayonet points, where their horses made a full stop. They then rode round and round the bulwark, and, in all the confidence of panoply, often coolly walked their horses, to have more time to search for some chasm in the ranks where they might ride in. The balls absolutely rang upon their mail ; and nothing incommoded VISIT TO THE FIELD. 49 the rider but bringing down his horse, which at last became the general order. In that event he surrendered himself, and was received within the square, till he could be sent prisoner to the rear. Truth obliges us, however unwill- ingly, to record that the French spared very few lives which it was in their power to take. We state this to deplore it ; for it is an aggravation of the horrors of war, as uncalled for as it is atrocious. A young officer of the Greys, known to the author, was shot by a French officer whose life he had preserved. The object of the Frenchman was to make his escape. He did not effect his purpose, being overtaken and cut down by the enraged soldiers. In the demoralisation produced by a life of violence and selfishness, nothing is more frightful than the want of feel- ing which characterises the French soldiery. Their ene- mies could hardly expect to be spared by the men who, lying wounded, themselves, in the hospitals at Antwerp, were often seen mimicking the contortions of countenance which were produced by the agonies of death in one of their own comrades, in the next bed. There is no curse to be compared to the power of men like these. Europe entire rose to put them down ; and they made a gigantic effort at Waterloo to rise again. It makes one shudder to think that they were nearly succeeding ; and often I ex- perienced a movement, in which it was hard to say whether there was most of indignation or amusement, when I heard Frenchmen and French-awrceB lamenting, in pathetic and sentimental terms, their failure ; with scraps about " Virtue unfortunate but always respectable." The cuirassiers were repeatedly driven off by the 30th and their comrade regiment, themselves reduced by pain- ful degrees. Line was again formed with unwearied alac- rity : no complaint escaped the patient soldiers' lips, if we except an occasional cry to be led on. The storm was seen again gathering and rolling onwards. The command, "He-iorm square — prepare to receive cavalry," was promptly 60 VISIT TO THE FIELD. and accurately obeyed. The whole were prostrate on their breasts, to let the iron shower of artillery fly over — and erect in an instant when the artillery ceased and the cavalry charged. Such were "the men of Waterloo." Unable to break in upon the square by open force, a commanding officer of cuirassiers tried a ruse : he lowered his sword to General Halket ; several of the officers called out " Sir,, they surrender." " Be firm, and fire," was the promptly obeyed answer. The general justly sus- pected an offer of surrender to infantry, fixed to the spot in a defensive position, by cavalry, who had the option of galloping off with all the plain open behind them. The volley sent the colonel and his cuirassiers, as usual, about, with a laugh of derision from the men he had meant to cut in pieces, and many a ring from their balls upon the back pieces of their mails. This gallant brigade was honoured with several visits from the illustrious chief. In one he inquired " how they were ?" The answer was, that two-thirds of their numbers were down, and that the rest were so exhausted that leave to retire, even for a short time, was most desirable — some of the foreign corps, who had not suffered, to take their place. General Halket was told that the issue depended on the steady unflinching front of the British troops, and that even a change of place was hazardous in the extreme. " Enough, my lord," he replied, " we stand here till the last man falls." One anecdote more of this gallant brigade I cannot withhold. A gleam of the gentler affections is hailed with tenfold sympathy when for a moment it gilds an interval of the empire of the sterner virtues in the war- rior's bosom. It is like the breathing of the softest flute after the clang of trumpets, or the downy contact of the halcyon's breast which stills the stormy sea.* In the * Burke somewhere compares the kinder affections to " the soft green of the soul, on which the eye loves to repose." VISIT TO THE FIELD. 61 midst of their dangers this band of heroes had their attention called to a very aifecting scene of private friend- ship. Two of the officers were the more closely attached to each other that they were not on terms of perfect good understanding with the rest of the mess, owing to their having opposed some arrangements which the rest thought expedient, but which it was expected would be attended with expense. They concealed, most honourably, the real grounds of their opposition to the general voice, that, besides ' their own families, they had each two sisters to support — a consideration which assuredly they could not have pleaded in vain. The similarity of their cir- cumstances naturally cemented their friendship, which was a by-word in the regiment. After doing their duty calmly through nearly the whole of the murderous day, they found themselves both unhurt in the evening ; when one of them playfully called to the other, who stood at a little distance, " I always told you they never would hit me. They never did it in Spain, and they have not done it to- day." He had hardly spoke when he was shot dead on the spot. His friend stood for a few moments motionless, then burst into tears, flew to the body, threw himself down beside it, and sobbed over it, inarticulately repeating several times, " My only friend ! " The officer who related the affecting story told me that so completely did the scene overcome every one who witnessed it, that there was not a dry eye among them. There were not wanting some striking instances of indi- vidual heroism at Waterloo. General Halket had a brother in the field who was colonel of a Hanoverian corps, which advanced with great spirit, in the evening, abreast of the best British troops. A trait of courage is related of him which has few examples in modern warfare, and is not exceeded by the far-famed achievement of Eobert Bruce in his short combat with Sir Henry Bohun, as a prelude to the battle of Bannockburn. The French general Cambronne, while 52 VISIT TO THE FIELD. giving his orders with great confidence to a large body of French troops, had come to their front. Colonel Halket made a dash at him, and, putting a pistol to his breast, seized his horse's reins, and brought him off from the very beards of his wonder-struck soldiers ! I had the good for- tune to spend an evening at the Hague with the mother and sister of these gallant men : from whom, however, I heard, not one word of their deeds, which were quite new to me when I arrived at Brussels. I had seen, as formerly mentioned, a young officer at Antwerp who had received twenty-four sabre wounds. The 69th, his regiment, with another, was the square next on the right of General Halket's. In one of their formations the French cavalry was unfortunately too soon up for them, penetrated into the midst of them, and almost destroyed them. We saw the point where a Belgic corps was stationed on the right, where the French called out, " Brave Belgians, come over and join your old comrades." They did not comply with the invitation. Next, in our exciting round, we arrived at the post of Hougomont, for ever associated with the name of the British Foot Guards. To them belongs the merit of having foiled the persevering and desperate attacks of at least twenty thousand of the enemy ; and they were only the 1st, 2d, and 3d regiments, under Lord Saltoun, and Colonels Home and M'Donnell, We found Hougomont* a country seat, with gardens in the Dutch taste, and extensive offices. A small wood is near the high garden wall, which latter is of brick, per- forated in two tiers for musketry, and shattered with the enemy's cannon-balls. The light companies of the three regiments were at first in this wood, but were soon driven into the house. * More correctly Gomont ; a mistake, it is believed, of Lord Wel- lington's, destined now to perpetuity, very naturally arising from hearing rapidly pronounced, Le Chdteau de Gommt. VISIT TO THE FIELD. 53 The French officer's Relation admits that the place was not taken ; that his countrymen suffered dreadfully in their unavailing attempts upon it, and at last endeavoured to shell it on fire. This they only partially effected ; but they did leave the place a scorched and shattered inheri- tance, first to its brave defenders, and ultimately to its ■proprietor. We could not resist picking up some small fragments even of the bricks and tiles of this spot, and of the bombs by which the chief ruin was wrought. For some time after the battle the number of dead in and around this post presented, perhaps, the most shocking spectacle in the whole field. When in the garden, where fruit-trees and shrubberies were blighted, and the alleys of holly and yew much torn and deranged, we saw the gardener. This poor man had remained in his garden all the time of the furious storm ; because, as he candidly owned, he could not ven- ture out of it. He confirmed the fact that the enemy never were within the premises — house, offices, or garden. It is said that two ladies, interested in some relative, sat in a carriage during the action, so near the field as to be sometimes under fire ; and an old woman remained in her cottage almost in the midst of the fight, as she said, to save her cows and pigs ! We did not see this heroine. The natural idea of the indemnification of the owner of Hougomont occurred to us when we surveyed his roofless walls and desolate grounds.* One of the farmers of the field, the progress of which to harvest had been so griev- ously interrupted, asked us whether the British govern- ment meant to pay him for his corn which had been trod- den down ? We told him that the said government has sometimes paid much less reasonable costs ; and that he should at least make the trial by putting in his claim. The French, too, had a considerable hand in occasioning the damages, we reminded him. * The Belgian government, it is believed, have done him this justice. 54 VISIT TO THE FIELD. The wood on the outside had been filled with the French dead, and much wreck lay here. "We crossed diagonally to the hovel of Belle Alliance — a name of superstitious coincidence, on which it is the cus- tom of the French more than ours to lay stress. Certainly they never had three such names as Fuentes d'Onoro, Vittoria, and Belle Alliance to boast of ! The house is of the poorest description, consisting of two rooms, with two smaller back rooms, a passage, and some miserable holes up-stairs. There are also some ruinous outhouses, and a well into which several dead bodies had been thrown. On the gable of the house the owner has painted, in large and rude letters in black on a white-wash ground, " Hotel de la Belle Alliance ! " Our officer assured us that Wellington and Blucher did not meet at this spot, as generally believed, but some hun- dred yards further on in the pursuit. He had himself seen the meeting and the parting of these two great men, on that never-to-be-forgotten occasion. It is possible, though not probable, that the Duke may have entered the house — and the people show a straw-bottomed chair on which they say he sat down ; but at any rate it was the headquarters of Buonaparte during the battle. The latter had supped in one house, and slept in another, not far from Belle Alliance. The first of these houses had been unroofed and nearly destroyed, for no assignable reason. We entered the house, got some refreshment, and drank to the Alliance. A Brussels party, whom we had met on the field, were sharing the same bread and cheese, and vin dupays, and with them we interchanged toasts very heartily. We were so much in the spirit of the moment and place as to read, while we rested, both Lord Wellington's and Buonaparte's account of the battle, which we had with us;* and in the same paper there happened to be the report of the proceedings of the Edinburgh meeting for * Appendix, Nos. II. and V. VISIT TO THE FIELD. 65 the Waterloo subscription. The speeches of several well- known characters, and, among the rest, of Mr Walter Scott, we read aloud ; and certainly they could not have been read on a more appropriate spot. One liberty more we took within the walls of Belle Alliance. The passage was white -washed, and many names were written upon it ; we quoted the following lines from the vision of Don Roderick, on the very spot of Napoleon's final defeat and ruin, on his first trial of strength with " the Welling- ton." The poet apostrophises Massena after the battle of Fuentes d'Onoro. " Tell him thy conqueror was Wellington, And if he chafe be his own fortune tried, God, and our cause, to aid, the venture we'll abide." As we were so far advanced, we wished, before visiting Buonaparte's station and returning to the position of the left wing, to have one glance of the country over which the panic-struck enemy had fled. Nothing meets the eye but extensive unenclosed corn-fields, with very little wood ; as if Soigne had rendered all further plantation in its region unnecessary. There could not have been a clearer field for flight ; and well the advantage was appreciated by every individual French soldier. It was in this quar- ter that the Prussian stragglers were so dangerous for several days after the battle. The officer who was with us belonged to the 23d. His regiment passed close to Belle Alliance on the opposite side of the road ; by which means he was witness to the meeting of Lord Wellington and Prince Blucher. He saw them walk their horses for some hundred yards in ■ earnest conversation ; when Lord Wellington wished the veteran good night, and success in the pursuit, and turned his horse back again to Waterloo, to write his important despatches. For a great breadth along the road, our officer pointed E 56 VISIT TO THE MELD. out to us the station of the reserve of the cavalry of the old guard. The marks the horses' feet had left in the soft ground, hardened again when we saw it, gave some idea of the large force which had stood there. Returning by Belle Alliance, we advanced about a hun- dred and fifty yards to the rising ground, on the left hand side of the road looking to the British army, from which Napoleon viewed the field ; and a very complete view he had of it. He had no scaffold erected where he stood, and certainly never went, after the battle had commenced, to the telegraph in the rear, which was at the distance of at least a mile. The Relation says that he was often dis- mounted, walking backwards and forwards, in his usual attitude with his hands behind his back, and looking steadfastly at the conflict. Lacoste, the farmer, or rather proprietor, of La Belle Alliance, it is well known, was pinioned, set on horseback, placed beside the Emperor very often exposed to fire, laughed at for manifesting very natural alarm, carried off for some miles in the flight, for* gotten, and ultimately dismissed with the high reward, for all he had undergone, of one Napoleon d'or ! We had the good fortune to see this man. Buonaparte's surprise has already been mentioned, and joy, to see the English faced about at all. His exclamation, " Ah ! I have them yet," showed that he had never met them before. Lacoste describes his agitation as extreme, and his consumption of snuff immoderate, when the three armies which he had rolled on to Hougomont, La Haye Sainte, and the British left, failed to produce the result of French onset to which he had been accustomed. They were visited with frightful carnage, and recoiled in terror and confusion ; and they were half his army. He became cross and short in his answers, and furious in his com- mands. He had, however, no want of troops. For five hours more, with his usual disregard of human life, he varied not the mode of attack, but launched his devoted enthusiasts on, though again and again driven back baffled VISIT TO THE FIELD. 57 and routed. La Haye Sainte was at last taken. It was of no use but to enclose the captors for the well-directed range of the British howitzers. A message came from the general for orders about that useless post, which could not be kept because of a battery which commanded it : what would it please his Majesty to order the general to do 1 " Carry the battery," answered the Emperor, and turned his back on the aide-de-camp. He could not, however, restrain occasional compliments to the British troops. " How they form — how they move — how they do their work — what beautiful troops ! " About this time, nearly four o'clock, a British officer was brought into his presence a prisoner. He was severely wounded, but, as it is an important rule in battle to trans- mit prisoners of rank to headquarters, he was detained till several questions were put to him by the Emperor, and, as I was informed, with much politeness. 1st. " Is Lord Wellington himself in the field ? " — Ans. " He is." 2d. " How are the spirits of the English troops ? " — Ans. " Excellent." 3d. " Where are the Prussians 1 " — Ans. " It is believed they are at hand." Buonaparte was observed to look thoughtful. He, how- ever, politely dismissed the officer, to have his wounds looked to. The British keeping their defensive position, the enemy in force, as the assailants, found themselves consider- ably advanced on the plain. The British artillery now played from their higher ground upon the whole French army, with the exception of the reserve of the Guard, old and young. " The combat deepened," and fresh spirits rushed "to glory or the grave." It was now the tug of battle. The impetuosity, the high spirit of first onset, was gone by ; now was come the murderous strain of the opposing forces, the poise and balance of the day. " The affair is kept up," (se soutient,) says the Relation ; 58 VISIT TO THE FIELD. " not a foot on either side is yielded — new columns ad- vance — charges are renewed — three times the position is on the point of being forced — and three times, after pro- digies of valour, the French are stopped short." Nothing can be more descriptive than what follows of the reaction, the languor, which succeed over-excitement ; the depression of balked enthusiasm. " Hesitation appeared in the French army, and marked uneasiness (de wives inquietudes.) Some dismounted bat- teries retired j multitudes of wounded separate from the columns, and spread alarm for the issue of battle. Pro- found silence had succeeded to the acclamations and cries of joy of the soldiers, sure of being led to victory. At the moment all the troops, with the exception of the infantry of the guard, were engaged and exposed to a fire the most murderous. The action continued with the same violence, but led to no result. " It was near seven o'clock. Buonaparte, who till that moment had remained on the ridge which he had chosen, and from which he saw well all that passed, contemplated, with a look of ferocity, the hideous prospect of so frightful a butchery. The more the obstacles multiplied, the more he became obstinate. He was indignant at the unforeseen difficulties ; and, far from having fears to devote an army, whose confidence in him had no bounds, he persevered in sending on fresh troops, with orders to march forward, to charge with the bayonet, to sweep away. Several times he was told, from different points, that the affair was against him — that the troops appeared to be shaken ; ' En avant ! ' repondit-il, ' en avant ! ' — (forward, forward !) " Another British officer was brought prisoner at this rare juncture, and witnessed the unexpected demeanour of this hitherto idolised man, in the presence of an enemy so new to him. He raved and stormed, and, regardless of wit- nesses, threw away in a moment the character founded on fifteen years of conquest. A British officer witnessed this suicide of Napoleon's fame. It was, it may be believed, VISIT TO THE FIELD. 59 cheering to this officer, to hear the answer given to Buona- parte's heartless commands to destroy and sweep away the English — " Sire, il est impossible'' Yet, at the very mo- ment, he was sending off estaffettes with despatches ; and true, to the last gasp of his political existence, to that lying policy, that charlatanerie, which has roused the vengeance of united Europe, he repeated several times, with dis- traction, " Let him not forget to say everywhere that the victory is mine." Several officers near him expressed their wonder by saying — " He has lost his head." The Imperial Guard, the pride of the French army, advanced against the centre of the right wing of the Allies in two columns, each of ten battalions, under the command of Marshal Ney. By some . accident, which proved most disastrous to both, they did not come on together. The right column was so much before the left as to be defeated unsupported. Buonaparte did not trust the crisis of the fight — on which hung his crown, and all that that word implied — to his columns even of the guard. He sent for- ward his whole infantry, retaining only a reserve of four battalions of the old guard. A glance at the second plan will show the reader that he attacked the whole allied line simultaneously with the advance of the two columns of the guard. No less than sixteen columns were pushed forward at once. There was desperate fighting along the whole line ; the enemy, however, making no impression. When the columns of attack descended from their own' position into the plain below it, so that the batteries in the line above could fire over their heads, a tremendous fire of cannon was opened from the whole French position upon the whole allied line ; which, although it made a stunning noise, did little harm, as our troops remained behind the crest of their position till they were wanted. Our artillery were ready for the moment when they knew that the French batteries — no longer able to clear their own men, now beginning to ascend the slope to the position of the Al- lies — must cease. The artillery now opened with fearful 60 VISIT TO THE FIELD. havoc on the approaching columns of the enemy. Another inspection of the plan will show that several formidable British and German batteries took the first of the two columns of the Imperial Guard in flank, and shook it severely. It rushed up the acclivity, nevertheless, and, at its summit, was for a moment surprised to see no opposing force immediately in front of it. It was but for a moment, for — like the warriors of Cadmus, or the clansmen of Ro- derick Dhu — started from the ground, on which they lay, the gallant Guards of England's Crown, face to face with the Guard of the French Emperor — the terror of all the armies of continental Europe. The issue was national; the question — which are the better men? An instant solved it. The Duke, in person, directed the attack. He shouted — " Up, Guards, and at them ! " Maitland and Salton led them on, the latter crying — " Now's your time, Guards 1 " There was but one volley and one rush. The Imperial Guards staggered, broke and fled. Down the slope they ran in complete rout — Ney, on foot, borne along with them — " the scarlet ranks " on their footsteps.* They continued their flight to the French position, where they were rallied by an energetic effort of Napoleon himself. The flight of the first column was anything but encourag- ing to the second, in whose view it took place. On its own left flank was poured a most destructive fire from the same artillery which had staggered the just-defeated column. The complete defeat of the second was achieved by Sir Frederick Adam's light brigade — the 71st, 52d, and 95th, which had advanced from their position near the right, * The French learned in Spain to respect the "rouge." The author's relative, formerly referred to, accompanied Colonel Skerrit in his famous dash, when, with a few of the Guards and 95th, he entered Seville at one side, while Soult, in alarm, ran out of it, with five thousand men, at the other. The green dress of the 96th, as they turned round a wood, was first seen by the enemy, who called out — " Espanol ! Espanol ! " Presently the Guards appeared, when the cry was changed to — " Rouge ! veritable rouge ! " followed by a brisk retreat of the advanced parties. VISIT TO THE FIELD. 61 and formed a line, four deep, parallel to the enemy's left flank. Supported by Colonel Halket with a gallant regi- ment of Osnabruck troops, Adam attacked them with an irresistible fire and charge. At the same moment, the Guards, which had returned to their position to re-form, came down and attacked the head of the column. In a few minutes the rout of the second column was even more complete than that of the first — it was scattered over the plain.* Adam's brigade and Halket's Hanoverians fol- lowed up their success, driving everything before them, till they came to the reserve of the Guard already men- tioned. It was then formed in squares. Colonel Halket called out to it to surrender. He was answered by Gene- ral Cambronne — " The Guard dies — it surrenders not ; " hut the Guard speedily spoiled the effect of that fine senti- ment of their general's composition, by throwing down their arms, stripping off their accoutrements, and running away, without waiting for the crossing of bayonets. They adopted what an Irish officer called the third alternative ; while Cambronne himself belied even the second, by actually surrendering to Colonel Halket, who, as formerly mentioned, dashed at and seized him.t * The curve or rectangle formed by Adam's brigade and the Guards is powerfully represented in Sir William Allan's second large picture of " Waterloo." The Duke bought his first — the new Crystal Palace should secure the other. t This interesting scene was confirmed to the letter by a friend of the author's, who was an ensign in the 52d — the Honourable William Ogilvie, brother of the Earl of Airly. He acknowledged that he felt nervous when advancing on the Old Guard, and can- didly confessed that he was much relieved by the sight of the , boasted veterans throwing down their arms and turning to fly. As the 71st assisted to produce this effect, the Author is reminded of an anecdote of them at the battle of Fuentes d'Onoro. Their colonel, the gallant Cadogan, who afterwards fell at Vittoria, saw his men rather shy of a strong French force occupying a street in the town. The regiment is called the Glasgow Highlanders, and many of them were natives of Glasgow. Struck with a resemblance of the street to the Gallowgate of that town, he shouted — " Glasgow 62 VISIT TO THE FIELD. Another Arm of British and German light troops now advanced, to do service brilliant enough for knights of chivalry— the 10th, 18th, and 1st hussars 'of the German legion, led by the gallant Vivian. Like Adam's and Halket's infantry, they "went at" everything that stood in their way — infantry, cavalry, artillery ; dashed at the cen- tre of the French position, went through it and beyond it, victorious wherever they came.* Vandaleur soon followed in support, with Ms light dragoons. The attacks were encouraged by the Duke, and directed by Lord Uxbridge, (now the Marquis of Anglesea,) till disabled by a wound which occasioned that gallant officer the loss of a leg, as he said, well bestowed for such a victory. The Duke was up with Adam's brigade, inspiring it, by his presence, with enthusiasm. Urged by Sir Colin Campbell, one of his staff, to retire from so dangerous a place, he said — " I will, when I see these fellows off; I know they won't stand." By the Duke's command — which flew like lightning along the allied line, and was answered by a general cheer, which those who heard it will never forget — the whole advanced. Now was the time when the youngest troops might be " slipped," and the most hesitating trusted. The sun, for the first time throughout the day, shone forth brightly, as if to light the victors on their path. It was a pursuit more than a combat ; for the French army was already disorganised and defeated. The Prussians, now in force, occupied a large detachment of the French on their right. They were even contending for possession of the village of Planchenoit, actually in the French rear. Some squadrons of Prussian cavalry formed themselves on the left of the allied line, and joined in the advance. Two things were known in the French army — that the Im- men, clear the Gallowgate ! " The appeal was irresistible, and the Glasgow men, with a cheer and a roar of laughter which confounded the enemy, cleared the Gallowgate ! * For the marvellous details the author refers his readers to Siborne. VISIT TO THE FIELD. 63 perial Guard was defeated, and that the Prussians were not Marshal Grouchy 's corps, as their chief, knowing it to be false, had told them. To stand longer was impossible. Kempt and Pack, with their Highlanders, Greys, Eoyals, and Inniskillings ; Lambert and Best with their gallant regiments, the 28th, 32d, 40th, in the face of that, do they remain an hour in France 1 Napoleon riest plus." Having some curiosity to feel the pulse of this enfant de la Re- volution on the subject of the momentous appeal which was then depending, I asked a person who sat near him, what had become of Labedoyere. The answer was assumingly given by the colonel, who pointed to a clock in the room, and with another rap among the glasses, said, " in half an hour he will be no more." His informa- tion was quite correct. The half-hour elapsed, and the patriot, REFLECTIONS IN 1852. 87 pointing again to the clock as it was striking six, waited till the last stroke, and then with a sort of ferocious playfulness, which mani- fested strongly the reality of his sympathy with Labedoyere, he bestowed a smart slap upon his own cheek, filled a glass of wine, and helped himself to another peach. My own wonder that such a man actually was permitted to sit at table with gentlemen, amounted at this moment to a kind of shudder, which diverted several of the other guests who observed it. Never did I thank Heaven more fervently because of the Life Guards, the Greys, and the Inniskillings. Next day I chanced to see the colonel seated in the cabriole of a diligence, proceeding a ses foyers. My acquaintance with this interesting person solved to me another question much agitated — namely, whether the deposition and detention of Buonaparte is security of itself for the peace of Prance, and consequently of Europe ; and whether justice would have been done to the human race, in the present extreme situation of the world, if the allied powers had withdrawn their troops the moment his person was secured on board the Bellerophon, in terms of the interpretation which the colonel put upon their decla- ration — a declaration which, he was pleased to forget, was an offer made and rejected, and again modestly founded upon after the war had failed,— that war being the alternative first preferred by the French army, and, as they maintain, by the French people. KEFLECTIONS IN 1852. The preceding remarks were published thirty-seven years ago, when the great event which called them forth was recent. They may therefore be considered as expec- tant, if not predictive. It is interesting to inquire now whether or not the expectations have been fulfilled. It is itself a comprehensive answer in the affirmative to say that, saving some partial interruptions, Europe is now in the thirty-eighth year of peace. Every nation into which Europe is divided has reaped advantage in different de- grees, but all greatly, from that long repose, — repose from 88 REFLECTIONS IN 1852. alarms and slaughters, with the stirring wakefulness of peaceful progress. England's place has been the van in this onward march. Her genius, skill, energy and wealth, too long worse than wasted upon war, have been concen- trated on the arts of peace. Discovery and invention have more than doubled her resources, and with these her real power ; and she is now what she could not have been, had another dark age of military despotism shrouded the Continent, and engrossed her whole powers and energies in an endless war against it of defence and defiance. What is she now 1 Bead the catalogue of her achieve- ments. Besides innumerable inventions of less exten- sive application, she can boast of gas illumination, steam navigation, steam spinning, steam weaving, steam paper- making, steam printing, steam travelling. She has made distant intercourse easy by cheap postage, speedy by rail- ways, instantaneous by electricity. She has achieved greater yet than even these physical triumphs, marvellous though they be. She has advanced opinion and vindi- cated moral sentiment. She has set an example to the world of religious liberation, constitutional reform, crimi- nal treatment reform, lunatic asylum reform, law reform, police reform, sanitary reform — would to God we could add education reform ! But she has placed Free Trade on a rock for ever, and secured cheap bread to the poor. Last of all arose a temple of peace, the Crystal Palace, with all its stores of skill, genius, and civilisation ! Nay, the illustrious promoter, himself, of that peaceful contest of nations — the Prince whose name is for ever associated with it, who stands forth as the manly champion of social and moral progress, exalts the tone of public sentiment, and towers above the level of commonplace greatness — that Prince himself never breathed the atmosphere of war. Had war continued, he might have been a gallant soldier, and no more — all his lofty aspirations and energies spent in battle-fields, his social virtues left uncultivated, and his deeds of beneficence lost to his fellow-men. One REFLECTIONS IN 1852. 89 step farther may we venture, and say, that She to whose gentle sway Britain's strongest manhood bows a willing head, was born and bred, enthroned and crowned, in peace. We cannot dissociate her name from peace. Spite of its warlike sound, it speaks to us only of peace — of peace vic- toriously won, but yet of peace. We cannot, if we would, connect it with war. It would be something less graceful, less beautiful, less peaceful. No ! we would not roughen the brow even with the laurel, which the olive so well be- comes ; or harden the soft hand to grasp the sword which so kindly wields the sceptre. Not only have many of England's improvements been adopted by other nations, but England's wealth has fur- nished them with the means. The subsidies once lavished and lost on war are now the reproductive loans of peace. It is impossible that the means of prosperity can have been bestowed without prosperity itself; and whilst Eng- land has enjoyed the largest share, there is not a people on the Continent who have not basked, more or less, in the sunshine of peace. We hear it asked how the nations of the Continent can be said to have been benefited by Waterloo, when they have only changed despotic masters ? What to them is the fall of Napoleon, when their own familiar tyrants have once more set their foot upon their necks, after cheating them, too, by promise of freedom made to be broken 1 The author of these lines shares largely in the general indig- nation roused by so grievous a fraud, practised over the length and breadth of continental Europe.. But to say nothing of the elements of reaction existing in the Con- tinental nations of the present age, and of the essential weakness of power founded on moral wrong, both holding out a promise of better times, which may not be far dis- tant, Waterloo restored to the Continental peoples their lost nationality at least — itself a great boon, and a means to yet greater good, which, however, interrupted in its progress, is certain in its advent. But political indepen- 90 REFLECTIONS IN 1852. dence, it may be farther objected, is not in itself civil liberty. Waterloo restored nationalities, but it is too much to quarrel with it because it did not give free institutions ; because it did not guarantee wise and just government, or enlighten and liberalise the minds of ignorant rulers to believe, and act upon the belief, that the only solid and permanent foundation of their own legitimate greatness is their people's freedom. England stands alone in the true dignity and real power of her crown, as much as in the lofty character of her free people : the one an example to sovereigns, whose sceptres are baubles compared to hers, and the other to the subjects of sovereigns, who pant to tread the path which she demonstrates to be practicable, safe, and glorious. Hence the jealousy, not of Continental peoples, but of their rulers. Well the former know that the extinction of England would take light and heat from themselves — lower the scale of even their present social weal, and rivet their chains for ever. The cause of the Continental princes, and the cause of the Continental peoples, are not only different, but antagonistic things ; the one in antipathy, the other in sympathy, with British liberty and British power. The seas that gird Britain's isles — the bulwarks that rule these seas, and baffle the designs of the one, are the hope of the other ; and vir- tually, though indirectly, are their seas and their navies not less than they are our own. Should any despot peril his forces against England, England's best allies would be his own subjects; and nothing would more certainly lead to the restoration of the liberties of the Continent than a crusade against England. This is the true rationale of the enormous standing armies of the Continental powers. Their jealousy and distrust of each other would not justify such immense preparations. More moderate forces would, by the tacit consent of mutual interest, serve all the purposes of na- tional defence ; but the tyrant's war with his own subjects — a war which knows no truce — the jealous blockade of REFLECTIONS IN 1852. 91 every avenue of liberty, demands armies which may no more leave the home station than may the London police. Despots not only surround themselves with bayonets, but " sit upon them ; " a seat wittily said to be as insecure as uncomfortable. The whole fabric is baseless, the whole system rotten and doomed. It is but a question of time ; and, however postponed, Waterloo will still be traced in that power which will effect its downfall. France herself, the last to admit that she can have benefited by her own humiliation, owes to the event of Waterloo perhaps more than any other Continental nation. The downfall of Napoleon was a grand deliverance to France. His false character and demoniacal system were utterly incompatible with her real prosperity and happiness. What but empty vain- glory, purchased by blood and tears, did the French people reap from that bad man's triumphs 1 Every hour she was sinking lower, as a people, in the scale of true national grandeur. A soldiery drawn from her own bosom, and systematically trained to ruffianism to increase the terror of their name, sat as heavily upon her as a conquering foreign foe. The potion was bitter to her national pride ; but Waterloo was that medicine which restored her na- tional health and subsequent greatness. Too true, says our questioner, the national greatness of France is restored ; and if she is as powerful, as imperial, and as dangerous as ever, what boots the victory of Waterloo ? I answer by denying the fact that France, relatively to this country at least, is as powerful as she was during the first Empire. She then commanded the entire Continent, and had put down all revolutionary distraction at home. She is now reduced to her own boundaries, and must rely on her own population, weakened as it is by party divisions. On the other hand, our population is increased since the peace, and our wealth and resources in a still greater ratio than those of France. I speak of England's capabilities, with- out noticing her temporary inadequate armament, a defect 92 BEFLECT10NS IN 1852. which she will in good time remedy. But, moreover, the argument is irrelevant. Although Waterloo, for the time, humbled France and delivered Europe, her per- manent humiliation was never contemplated. If it had been, we should have been the military despots instead of the tyrant whom we had put down. The pressure of de- feat removed, France must needs have again grown up to that greatness which her resources and position in Europe justify. But it is something that she has been harmless for well-nigh forty years, and, if bent on conquest now, has that wicked career yet to begin anew, with difficulties multiplied against her, both at home and abroad. Her present ruler dares not send his Prsetorian guards abroad on foreign conquest, and leave himself to his own popu- larity. Paradoxical as it may appear, it is not unreason- able to thank Waterloo for the marked change, observable throughout Europe, from the belligerent to the peaceful spirit. The people, in all the countries, are deeply inte- rested to avoid war, and would make great sacrifices to avert it. The standing armies — and it is one of their most pestilent characteristics — desire war, because they thrive in it ; utterly regardless of the incalculable suffering it brings in its train. It seemed as if the horrors of that battle only were wanted to crown the climax of thousands of battles in which man has torn his brother to pieces, without even Cain's provocation. The moon of Waterloo shone cold on a field deluged with human blood ; on which lay, in ranks and heaps, thousands of human beings, writhing in agony, dying and dead, who not only had not quarrelled, but were unknown to each other when they met ! A single life, especially by the individual who, like Iphigenia, were selected for the sacrifice, would be esteemed a high price for some great national good ; but what shall be said of many thousands butchered in one field, for no end which reason or justice can countenance for a moment? An aggressive band of ruffians and robbers, who had spread desolation over the whole path of their unhallowed march, EEFLEOTIONS IN 1852. 93 rushed into that field, led on by the most unmitigated incarnation of evil that has scourged the modern world. What is a soli tary s murder to what they designed and per- petrated ? Yet one of these will fill our journal columns for a month. How coolly we talk of going to war ! Going to murder should' be the term — and thousands, nay mil- lions of men. Nevertheless, there is a people who, it seems, will not be happy till they have " wiped out Waterloo." Amiable people ! A benevolent stranger would conclude that, by some detersive application of Lethe's waters, they wish to blot the fearful remembrance from the page of history. Innocent stranger ! They wish to fight Water- loo over again, with all its unspeakable horrors — and for what? To heal the soreness of a contemptible self-con- ceit, in men who were not born when it was fought, and do not, in reason, share one shade of its disgrace, more than of Poictiers, Agincourt, or Cressy ; or than Englishmen of the present day do of the recapture of Calais ! But it is unjust to impute this exquisite folly, as well as depravity, to the French people generally. To wipe out Waterloo is the cry of the military ruffianism of France, echoed by vain, heartless, brainless Parisians, who do not mean, how- ever, to be forthcoming from their cafes and their operas on the battle day. We should ask these worthies, and the hordes who enslave their countrymen and keep the world uneasy, whether it is to wipe out the disgrace of a defeat, to wait till the victors have disarmed, and, with a force which has increased as the opposite has diminished, to attack them in time of peace? Shame upon such "wiping out ! " The honourable and the brave would call it deep- ening the stain. Waterloo, as it stood when the battle was joined, must be replaced on the field, like the pieces on a restored chess-board, to make the terms fair. Nay, more, it is not too much to demand, as another condition of a fair stand-up fight, that the armies should be precisely equal in number, and man for man of the two nations re- spectively. Hard conditions these for France, judging by 94 REFLECTIONS I IN 1852. Waterloo as it actually was. But all this is puerility, which would be scorned by schoolboys in their play-ground. Yet a fair battle-field is possible ; and from that the impatient soldiery, either with or without the coxcombs of the cafes, must return victorious, before they are entitled to open their lips on the subject. It is miserable to think that such nonsense as the " wiping out " of Waterloo can find utterance, in the middle of the nineteenth century. It is scouted by every person of common sense and feeling; and just because Waterloo has been fought, all would join in an earnest prayer to the God of peace and goodwill that it may never be fought again. Pity it is that the morale of other nations is yet so low, that, in order to avert such an evil, England must, at an enormous expense, lost to the objects of peace, be prepared for it. It is humiliating to think that we cannot even yet trust our neighbours, however ourselves indisposed to, and, I trust, incapable of, aggressive war. But ten thieves in a city will prevent the disbanding of the police. In our near neighbour- hood there are half a million of men armed and trained for the sole purpose of blood and murder and rapine, who, to keep their " hands in," scrupled not to massacre their own unoffending countrymen. Seeing that their head is a man who, as a late writer of his own country said of him, looks drowsily one way, and springs viva- ciously on his object the other, let us " keep our powder dry." Let us look on Waterloo as our Palladium — not of vain-glory, but of peace ; resolved that, if it shall ever be called for, it shall be fought again. Let its details, horri- fying as they are, but full of lessons of steadfastness and virtue, be studied by the youthful soldiers of England, whose fathers fought it ; and, alike sacred in their memory the battle and its departed hero, may their watchword, in the hour of their country's danger, be " Waterloo and Wellington !" Once more, be this my apology for reviv- ing the history of that memorable day. CHAPTER V. MONS — CAMBRAY — ROYE — SENLIS. I set off from Brussels by the diligence for Mons. I found seated in it the young Irish officer, and his heroic wife, of whom I formerly gave an account. He was most com- municative about the battle, in which a slight contusion on the thigh, by a spent ball, was his small share of the general peril. He added, or rather his lady, who had heard it at Antwerp, another trait of enthusiasm for their unworthy chief, which was manifested by the French wounded. One of them in the Corderie at Antwerp had his leg amputated. Before the operation was commenced, he said that a sight of the Emperor would save them the trouble, for it would cure him ! The leg was taken off, and, looking at the blood, he added he would willingly shed the last drop of his blood for him ! He said this almost inarticulately, for he was dying ; and in a few minutes breathed his last. We travelled through a fine country to Mons, where, on our arrival, we learned that communication with Valenciennes, by the diligence, was stopt. This detained us all the next day ; and the morn- ing following, five of us hired a very good barouche to Paris. The country, as we passed along, appeared bare from the want of enclosures, and, in this track, from the absence of trees. But it was rich in crops, and seemed well laboured. They plough with wheels, but very straight; and, as I had remarked that I had never seen a turnip 96 MONS. crop, I was informed that they sow their turnips, after they have reaped their white crops, for winter feeding. This practice, which can only suit a fine climate, was confirmed by the appearance, very soon, of a turnip-field just springing. Mons is a large and handsome town. We were much pleased, in its market-place, to see the parade of a regi- ment of English dragoons, and another of infantry— the King's Own and the Buffs — the latter from America, and both on their march to Paris. Some native troops were parading at the same time ; but the people naturally flocked to see the strangers. Beggary is universal in this country, or rather begging; for the children of labourers at least do little else. You can hardly stop at an inn on the road, but, besides the ordinary beggars in sixes and sevens, you have a number of peasants, and oftener their children, attracting, in vari- ous ways, your notice, and whining a request for your bounty, in a most pitiable strain. The most amusing mendicants are the country children, who run after your carriage for a mile or two, throwing summersets, girls as well as boys, and bawling all sorts of loyal sentiments : — "Vive le Roi" — "Vive Louis dix-huit" — "Vive le Roi d'Angleterre" — "Vive le Prince d'Orange" — "Vive l'Era- pereur de Russe," &c. If this should be too general, they come a little nearer home : " Vive les Anglais, et les braves Ecossais." This, too, failing, the trial is personal : " Ah ! vous 6tes jolie, gentile" &c. The thing is endless, for the guard is changed upon you every village. We went to the top of the cathedral at Mons, and enjoyed a superb prospect. We saw how a town may be defended by partial fortification, and inundation to prevent ap- proaches. The water, however, was very shallow, and so foul as to be dangerous to health. We dined very comfortably at the talle-dhote at Mons, and were attended, as usual, by music. One boy, had he been regularly bred to the violin, would have made him- CAMBEAY. 97 self heard of. He imitated wind instruments, the flute, the trumpet, &c. ; and putting a small tin plate under the bridge of the violin, and a few liards in it, he imitated the hurdy-gurdy of the Savoyards. But what most surprised us was, that, loosing the hog's-hair of his bow, he put the bow below the violin, and the hair above ; and thus, enabled to touch several strings at a time, contrived to make very good harmony. I told him, from the easy and elegant manner in which he handled the violin, and the taste with which he brought out the notes, in the most difficult compositions, that he ought to go to London. I learned, however, that his playing was entirely by the ear, and that he would have to begin a new course of musical education, to great disadvantage. We were not very well accommodated at Mons, but the beds were clean ; and I have hitherto found them so in the Netherlands. Holland, as formerly observed, is a pattern. The bedrooms want some accommodations to which an Englishman is accus- tomed. For example, in no inn did I see a bason-stand : a shallow oval dish is placed on a table. They have a convenient way of fitting up a bed. Something like a broad sofa is put close to the wall, and, without the aid of bed-posts, the curtains are hung from a large horizontal fixed ring, on which they draw — generally surmounted with an ornamented head like a crown — having altogether a neat pavilion-like effect. We passed Valenciennes, famous in the earlier war, on the outside of the walls, and it certainly does appear to be very strong. It had surrendered to the King ; but the Prince of Orange having doubts of the good faith of the governor, prevented communication with him by the dili- gence. This exception, every other carriage going, appeared to us very extraordinary ; and on going to the general at Mons — a good-looking Dutchman — we were told that there was no help for it. We arrived at Cambray (the see of Archbishop Fenelon) in the afternoon, the town which was the limit of the 98 EOYB. advance of the Duke of Brunswick and the Prussians in 1793. It is a neat town, and strongly fortified. It had just been escaladed by the English troops, and surrendered to the King ; who had passed through it, amidst very loud acclamations of loyalty, a few days before. The white flag hung from every window — generally a towel or a dirty white handkerchief; and the very beggars wore the white cockade. The dress of the peasantry amuses an English traveller. The men generally have a carman's frock of blue over their clothes, a little nightcap on their head, and their hair powdered, with a thick and long cue. The women wear red petticoats, and have their heads closely bound up, as if broken, by a many-coloured cotton handkerchief. We were now fairly in France, and a beautiful and rich country we found it. The wood, which we thought at first deficient, soon became abundant ; and for many miles at a time, besides bearing good rich crops, the whole country presented the aspect of pleasure-grounds, in a handsome style of laying-out. The house, however, is generally want- ing : very few country seats are to be seen. The crops of poppy were beautiful and luxuriant, to supply the manu- facture of opium and laudanum. Breakfasted at a house on the road to Roye, where we had an opportunity of seeing a French peasant family. We found them very simple and obliging. They consisted of a mother, two daughters, and a son ; the latter bearing a life-mark of the accursed conscription — a wooden leg. He lost his leg, he told us, at Leipsic ; and even with his loss, we thought him happy to get out of the contamination of the French army, to his mother and sisters again. These poor people had been shamefully plundered by the Prus- sians in their advance to Paris. They generally deserted their houses till they passed. Two English regiments were passing at our time ; and the peasants rejoice to hear it, as, instead of being plundered, they make a good deal by an English regiment. At Roye we had a specimen of French 8ENLIS. 99 self-possession in our hostess. She told us the price of her dinner and beds, and said we might take or want them ; she had more customers than she could accommodate ; and there happened to be no other good inn in the town. ' Her charge was about triple what it should have been. I never met with a more impudent, haranguing woman; and so violent did she become, that we had several times to remind her that we were not deaf. For triple price she gave us about half allowance. We understood that she was cautious enough not to treat the Prussian officers in the same way. Two of our party were officers in uniform. When we asked her if she would have spoken so loud to the Prussians, she answered, " Ah ! voila une autre affaire." Whether the effrontery or the gratitude of the answer preponderated, we shall leave the reader to decide. From Roye we travelled pleasantly to Senlis, and passed through another British regiment on the road. Everywhere we heard complaints of the Prussians, con- trasted with the good conduct of the English. Once on stopping to bait, I entered the cottage of an old woman, who, with her daughter, was absolutely reduced to beggary. The girl had been married about a fortnight, and showed me, with great naivete, a little remnant, which was all she had left of her marriage gown — "ma robe de marriage." The Prussians had carried off her stockings and shoes ! The same people were quite delighted to hear that an English regiment was coming. " The English never do ill, and they do a great deal of good." Nothing has tended more to raise England in the esteem of the French than that very advance to Paris, in contrast with our allies the Prussians. It is said < that Lord Wellington remonstrated, as far as he could, with Blucher on the subject, whose answer was, " My Lord Duke, the French never were in England." To this there is an obvious reply. If the vengeance of the Prussians fell upon the identical tigers who ravaged Europe, it would be very well ; but the poor wedding- gown, the shoes, and the stockings ! 100 SENLIS. At Senlis we were very comfortably fed and lodged, in a rather handsome hotel, with a quieter hostess than at Roye. It is a very pretty French town, with a large forest near it, called by its name. On walking oiit in the even- ing, I saw a large building, which, on inquiry, I found to be an hospital. A gentleman, at the gate asked me to enter, and said he was the surgeon of the house. He showed me a male and female ward, which, for arrange- ment and cleanliness, would have done honour to our own country. The beds were all provided with clean white curtains. In the women's ward I saw an old lady, seem- ingly attending the sick, in black, with a large white-crape hat like an umbrella, and a pair of clerical bands. The gentleman told me she was one of the sisters of the order of Charity, who devote themselves, without remuneration, to attend hospitals, not only in Paris, where their estab- lishment is, but all over France. The surgeon showed her great respect. We walked through a very well-kept garden, and were joined by a young French officer, with his head bound up. He was one of several Waterloo wounded who were there. He told me he had been aide-de-camp to a French general. I said that the whole world admitted that his countrymen had fought with unparalleled gallantry, and had yielded to the fortune of war. He seemed much pleased with this, and put in, uncontradicted by me, that the thing was not so wonderful, when it was recollected that the French had only 60,000 men, and had both Wellington and Blucher to fight. I only said that, of the allied army, although 70,000, only 30,000 were British and German legi6n united. We parted, by hoping that England and France would be for the future at peace and in friendship, as becomes two great nations. We breakfasted half-way from Senlis to Paris; succeed- ing in obtaining eggs, bread, and butter, and hot water, one of our party having some very good tea. The place was called Louvres, and exhibited, in its population and houses, visible marks of the desolation wrought by the Prussians. SBNLIS. 101 A grand chateau in the neighbourhood had been gutted and dilapidated, and the poorest of the people had been plundered by them. Some of the English Life Guards were about the inn, who told us that the Prussian stragglers were yet so mischievous that it was found necessary to send out troopers to put them down ! " Why were not Prussian dragoons sent out 1 " " Oh ! that would never do ; they would have made matters worse ! " They assured us, however, that we ran no risk of robbery between this place and Paris. One of our officers, who had marched with the army, made this last stage interesting, by pointing out to us the spots of the successive encampments and bivouacs of Lord Wellington's army in their late advance to Paris. From a high ground we soon obtained a first view of Paris, with the neighbouring hills of Monts Martre and Martin. The approach to this, at present, doubly interesting capital was, it may be believed, very exciting, and every object was gazed at by our party. We passed the absurd works attempted by Napoleon — as if, seriously, such a place as Paris could hold out against a victorious army for more than a few days, — -and soon arrived at the barrier of St Martin, a kind of gate, with the singular and encouraging spectacle of a Highland soldier quietly keeping sentry at it ! The douaniers at the gate gave a pro forma glance at our luggage, and we drove along the Faubourg St Martin, and turned to the right along the Boulevards. We were soon in the Eue de Kichelieu, a street of chief note in Paris, and took up our quarters in the Hotel d'Espagne. In the afternoon I walked down to the Tuileries, to see the Palace and famous horses of St Marc, and afterwards go to the opera. CHAPTEE VI. P A E I S. Ant lingering doubt of the safety of moving about Paris was dispelled by meeting more than one English officer walking leisurely all alone ; and still more by the first female voices which struck my ear, in crossing the Rue St Honore, being in very pure Glasgow. Two soldiers' wives were debating the point which knew the way best. I was further greatly encouraged by the flattering circum- stance, that not a living being took the slightest notice of me ; and I soon found myself in perfect safety, in the grand Place Carousel, outside the massive rails of the court of the Tuileries, where Buonaparte used to review his troops, and where the very idea of the residence of hi* power and of his person, so recently, occasioned some- thing of a nervous feeling. The Palace front is very grand at the first view, although defective in its details. Its spacious court displayed a number of soldiers of the new National Guard, many of them in rich uniforms. I was soon attracted by Napoleon's triumphal arch, with the famous bronze antique horses of St Marc, by Lysippus, on its summit. I was disappointed. They are so high placed that, on looking up to them, you only see their noses, breasts, and forelegs, whilst they are diminished to the size of ponies ; 2d, I had formed the idea that they were in the rampant attitude of the horses of the sun, whereas they seem to be jogging on at an easy trot ; and, 3d, They VENETIAN HORSES — LOUIS XVIII. 103 are flouted with a gilded, lately built, although antique- formed, triumphal car, very ill suited to their own bronze ; and which, if they shall be returned to Venice, from whence they were brought, will certainly not accompany them. The form and workmanship of these interesting relics of antiquity are pronounced, by artistic connoisseurs, to be unequalled in the world. On the triumphal build- ing itself, which is very poor, I saw the first examples of what I was to see at every turn, traces of Napoleon's osten- tatious display of his own greatness ; less probably from vanity than from his belief that his subjects would identify themselves with his glory, and support him and it together. Louis XIV. was humility itself, in this respect, compared with the proud Corsican ; and Versailles can testify what Louis thought of his conquests, and of himself. The bas- reliefs on Napoleon's arch were sculptured on large white marble slabs about ten feet by five, and their subject was the humiliation of the Emperor of Austria. His daughter's carriage passed under these records every day. In one of them, her husband is represented receiving the submission of her father — the latter kneeling ! They are beautifully executed, but so unutterably insolent that the wonder is that last year the Austrians suffered them to remain. I anticipate their speedy removal, this visit, of their insulted subject. My attention was called from the arch by a rush of the people from all quarters to the gate of the palace court. I followed the tide, and soon saw the King's coach and eight at an easy canter, preceded by a party of light horse, wheeling into the court. The crowd to a man took off their hats, and cried, "Vive le Eoi ! " The King bowed repeatedly, so that I had a good view of him, and certainly saw a face expressive of much kindness and good nature. He is really a benevolent excellent man, and it is only the Buonapartists that dislike him. The carriage drove up to the King's private door — the same by which Napoleon always entered ; and his Majesty alighted amid renewed 104 OPERA. cheers. The juncture never occurred to me more strongly. It saw reseated the legitimate monarch of France — the Eepublic and the Empire vanished — on the throne of his ancestors. Had it not been for Wellington, I was going in soliloquy to say, when I saw a Highland soldier looking on as I was, and substituted Donald, "Louis le DesirS," would not have been at that moment in his own palace. Dictated by the same reflection was the smart answer of some Parisians to a party of Prussian soldiers who were boasting their courage and prowess, and demanding a high opinion of their external accomplishments. "Did you ever see such troops as we are?" An English soldier of rather low stature happened to be passing at the time, to whom the Frenchmen pointed, adding, " All that may be very true; but had it not been for that little fellow, your fine troops would not have been here ; and, moreover, we rather think they would not have been in Berlin at this moment." Went to the opera. The house is not worth looking at compared with the opera-house in London : it is much smaller, greatly less splendidly fitted up, and -allowed to become very dirty without new painting or cleaning. Here I first saw the singular varieties of uniforms of the allied troops. The pit seemed one-half full of officers in all the military dresses of Europe, presenting a very new and interesting sight. The Parisian part of the audience were very far indeed from exhibiting the gay and dressed- like appearance of the London opera-house, or even theatres. In the pit they were all in ordinary costume, and the ladies in the boxes wore their walking dresses, concealed, according to the mode, in large high-crowned plume-covered bonnets and shawls ; the latter a most favourite article of their dress, and the most acceptable present (if India) from their admirers — the chief value of the latter to a Parisian lady, and the great inducement to increase their number as well as their devotion ! Of course, in such disguises I could not have discovered beauty had it existed ; and equally difficult I found it to distin- OPERA. 105 guish youth. The dresses gave to all the ladies the look of matrons taking care of a cold and sore throat. The national and loyal, though most unmusical, air of France, " Henry the Fourth," was called for, and the whole house loudly joined in the cry. Every part was loudly applauded with lively cries of " Vive le Koi ! " The latter affords, itself, the huzza of a French assemblage, as they dwell long upon the last syllable roi. Our "God save the King" is quite distinct from the cheer. In one of the loges over the stage I saw a gentleman evidently concealing himself, but occasionally peeping out to see the house. I immediately knew it to be the Duke of Wellington, from the busts and pictures I had seen of him. This was confirmed by some of my immediate neighbours, who named him among themselves " Voila Vellington." Of the opera I thought very little, either scenically or musically. In these particulars London, beyond all doubt, outstrips it; but when the dancing came, Paris just as decidedly carried the palm. It is impossible to imagine agility, grace, and skill, carried further than in the move- ments of the opera-dancers of Paris. The whole troop are admirable, but there are three of the men who really amaze the spectators. Sometimes they actually appeared for a second or two to be balanced in the air, in the inclined position in which winged figures are represented in paint- ing. Several of the women dance admirably, but I had seen female dancers in London who excelled them. When men dance well they generally excel the other sex. This arises from their strength, and also from the nature of their form. In one general dance four of the performers were elegantly dressed as Highland soldiers : the latter much excited the Parisians. Their entre was loudly applauded, and the exact imitation of their dress occa- sioned much mirth. " Vive les Ecossais ! " was the cry. It is pleasing to see how much these brave men make friends even of their enemies. One circumstance I may mention here : the print-shops are full of representations 106 CAEICATURES— GALIGNANl'S. of all the allied troops, both as portraits and caricatures — the latter often very laughable, and not a little irritating to their objects. The English soldiers were not spared. Of the Highlanders, not one caricature, either of their dress or manner, appeared — the portraits being even flattering in size, martial air, and style of dress. One ludicrous print, however, may be mentioned as an exception — it has relation to the scantiness of under drapery ; the High- landers are represented grounding arms, with their backs to a high wind, and to a line of panic-struck Parisian ladies. This could hardly be omitted; and, indeed, is the subject of a very old joke, and, I believe, a caricature in Scotland. Changed my hotel to the Eue Vivienne, 1' Hotel des Etrangers — a very clean, quiet, and reasonable house. I was most agreeably disappointed with every kind of ac- commodation which it furnished : I could not have been better lodged. The street is newer in its buildings, broader, and handsomer, than most of the streets of Paris; and lies in the very centre of every attraction to which, at least in the evenings, a stranger has occasion to resort. It is, moreover, immediately opposite to Galignani's elegant reading-room ; where, for about three shillings a fortnight, one has access to all the principal London papers, besides everything of the kind published in Paris, damp from the press. Information of all public matters, sights, fetes, &c. &c, is to be obtained here ; and hardly anything can occur to puzzle an Englishman, but he will have it here unravelled. Galignani was long in London, and thoroughly understands the relations between the two cities. He sells books exceedingly cheap ; and undertakes to deliver them in London, paying the duties at the outports. Commis- sions from England, either for books or journals, he faith- fully executes. Here I learned that, at eleven o'clock^ thirty thousand Eussian troops were to pass in review before the Sovereigns and the Duke of Wellington. It was good fortune arriving the day before this opportunity. They formed in two lines along some miles of boulevards. REVIEW OP RUSSIANS. 107 These broad public walks are paved like the streets, and lined with high trees cut and trained to grow up like a wall or high hedge. On the two side-walks are one entire line of shops, cafes, restaurateurs, gates to fine houses, hotels, &c. The whole has a noble effect. The magnifi- cent cortege of the Crowned heads and the British hero passed along the lines on the Boulevards, and went to take their station in the Place Louis XV., (just on the spot where the king was guillotined,) and the whole force passed in review before them. No troops could make a finer or more martial appearance, and their steady move- ment was like that of a vast machine. 1 The infantry passed by companies first, most of them of the Imperial Guard. The Emperor seemed very proud of them, and frequently appealed to Lord Wellington, who on all public occasions rode next him. It was evident that his chief aim was to attract the British hero. The King of Prussia and Emperor of Austria, alone, stood for- ward in the line of the other Emperor and the Wellington — all other princes, grand-dukes, and generals, retiring a little behind. The blaze of rich uniforms, in endless variety, was very striking, in the royal followers. When they moved, it was like a regiment of dragoons, they were sq numerous ; and the eye of the beholder was dazzled as it looked upon them. The cavalry next passed, all of them cuirassiers, and very fine troops; their horses very active, and well broke, but inferior in size to the English horses. Attention is paid to matching the horses of each troop, so that in the same regiment is seen a grey troop, a bay, a black, a chest- nut, a white, a roan. The artillery came last, and made a very respectable appearance ; but certainly far inferior to our own. The Place Louis XV. terminates the garden of the Tuileries on the west, so that the troops passed along the Quai on the outside of the gardens. The crowd on the terraces and elevated places was immense, and the num- 108 TUILEEIES GABDENS — TABLE-d'HOTE. bers of well-dressed people very great. No spectacle could, however, be more humiliating to the great nation than such a display of the foreigner's force in the capital of France ; but it is always sufficient for the French that there is spectacle. Certainly the spectators did not go the length of cheering the Prussians ; but I was told, by a gentleman who heard it, that when the English troops entered Paris, many people called out, "Vive les Anglais ! Vive nos ennemis ! " How Christian ! Among the reviewing generals was Prince Blucher, and the celebrated Platoff, Hetman of the Cossacks. The latter rode a grey Arabian, his favourite horse. Blucher has been much better represented in the engravings than Platoff. On our way to the review we passed through the noble gardens of the Tuileries. They consist of broad gravel-walks, varied with grass and flower-plots ; the lat- ter enclosed with elegant rails, with fine trees, fountains, ponds, and numerous statues of marble, arranged through the gardens with great taste and effect. Numbers of people were lounging about, and sitting on the garden chairs, in the shaded walks, generally reading the morn- ing journals. In equal proportion, at least with the men, were ladies, which, as it occurs every day, promises ill for domestic affairs. But more of this in the sequel. We dined at a table-d'hote — the company all French but ourselves ; and found that, instead of looks and signs of insult, which we had been led to expect, we were treated by our neighbours at table with much civility. They en- gaged among themselves in keen political discussion ; but, on the whole, seemed rather friendly to the Bang. With one exception — an old gentleman with powdered hair and well-dressed frills, a relic of the old school, they were examples of that coarseness, and not seldom ferocity, which the Revolution has stamped so extensively upon the pre- sent generation of the French people. I had not yet seen a single individual of whom we should say, in England, " There is a gentlemanlike man !" THEATRE DB VARIETE. 109 We went to the Theatre de Variete, on the Boulevards Italiennes; and, in passing along the latter, saw the Parisian gentlemen and ladies assembling in the coffee-houses, and sitting on chairs under the trees, " to pass the evening !" This last custom I was not till then aware of. We were not much gratified with the Varieties. There were no less than four short pieces ; and as they profess to be a living picture of the follies or laughabilities of the day, they can- not be supposed to have much dramatic merit. It was here that "Jean Bool" was so much caricatured last year. He was invariably represented as very angry. Nothing amuses a Frenchman more than an Englishman's constant passion ; for the French are remarkable for a calm and often provoking preservation of temper. " Enter Jean Bool angry" is a common scenic annunciation ; and the two un- lucky monosyllables G — d — , by which an Englishman gives notice of an access of rage, like a dog by snarling, are not spared, to the great delight of the French audience. It happened, on our night, that some more respect was paid to John Bull than last year. It was among the first proofs I had met with of candid acknowledgment by the French, of how much they owe to English generosity. It was a kind of pantomimic representation of processions in hon- our of the white flag and fleur-de-lis. The characters were chiefly National Guards ; and the females decorated them with white cockades, and danced with them, as they do on occasions of public fetes in the Tuileries, and other public gardens. When the flags displayed the word " Paix," the applause was enthusiastic. A scene truly French now oc- curred. Nothing was wanting but the accession of some of the real soldiers to this avowal of loyalty. Several fine- looking grenadiers in the soiled, and even tattered, uni- forms of the campaign, entered, representing various proofs of having suffered at Waterloo. Loud and repeated shouts from the audience ! All the other performers exert them- selves to induce the veterans to exchange the tricolored for the white cockade, to which they show great reluc- 110 THEATBE DE VAKI&r£ tance. At last the ladies prevail, and pin the white cockade on their breasts ; the National Guards embrace them, and the whole house rings with " Vive le Roi !" Considering the hind of attachment which the one cockade or the other has proved itself to indicate, the scene was anything but pleasing to us. Indeed, it recalled to me that indiscreet policy of last year, which received, with embraces, into the King's service that very soldiery which hesitated not to betray him, when the man reappeared who suited better their own views and interests. I could not help hoping, that receiving" again into confidence the soldiers of Buona- parte would never go farther than the theatre. A scene followed more gratifying to English national feeling. On seeing the wounded soldiers, one of the female characters runs to them, and by very eager signs seems to be inquir- ing the fate of a soldier in whom she had a very warm interest. She is answered by signs, which spoke too plainly that he had fallen on the field of battle. The lady faints away. On her recovery she finds that an English officer has entered, and with him a wounded French officer, whose steps he is very carefully aiding. The maid recog- nises her lover, or brother, in the wounded Frenchman, and is almost wild with joy. She asks, by signs, how he was preserved, when the officer points gratefully to the young Englishman, and presses his hand to his heart. The trans- ported fair one falls on her knees to the English officer, and fervidly kisses his hand, while he gallantly raises her, and resigns his wounded charge to her care. The whole was well performed, and excited the loudest applause, with'a cry which it was gratifying, for the moment, to hear, — " Vive les Anglais ! lis sont le plus genereux du monde." One circumstance aids the reality of this feeling in the French, and perhaps still more calls forth its expression — viz., the daily contrast between the conduct of the other allied troops, particularly of the Prussians, and that of the English. The Prussians have reaped a harvest of vengeance much more ample than was expected, although forbearance itself WANT OF HOMES. Ill compared to what the 'Trench inflicted for ten years on them. After all, the conduct of the Prussians is much ex- aggerated, and a few instances of outrage are extended as if they were of hourly occurrence. Making the French feel a little, is plainly winked at by the Prussian comman- ders ; and it is' even said that Blucher answered, to'a remon- strance of Lord Wellington's on the subject, that the French never were in England. The French find it more difficult to submit to the dominion of an enemy whom they have so long despised; while that very circumstance induces the Prussians to carry matters with a higher hand. In the cafes they domineer over every Frenchman who enters ; and I have seen the latter turn away when they saw Prus- sian officers sitting in the coffee-room before them. The Austrians are not at all complained of, except for the practice, equally harmless and foolish, of wearing laurel leaves in their caps. On coming out of the theatre we were surprised to see the immense numbers of chairs still occupied by multitudes of dressed ladies and gentlemen, under the light of reflected lamps, seemingly doing nothing but idling away the night. This scene I witnessed continually, besides seeing the cafes, ice-houses, and tea-gardens full of ladies. In truth, ■ home is a word and a thing unknown in France, at least in Paris. Domestic pleasure was never heard of. All the virtues, public as well as private, which an English home founds and rears, exist not in that volatile city. Children are put out to nurse, and then sent from home en pension — that is, to boarding-schools, where the girls are fitted for the coffee-houses and the trees of the Boule- vards, and unfitted for everything else. The moment a Frenchwoman has dined, if she does not also dine in a cafe, she looks anywhere hut to home for her evening's enjoyment. She goes to some public place, or at once to a cafe — most likely not to the same with her husband ; and there, or in the Boulevards, lounges out the evening. It is difficult to imagine anything so comfortless, to say 112 PALAIS-ROYAL. nothing of disreputable, as such habits. A French family has no notion of what we call a fireside, and associate therewith so much of domestic delight. I really was never more convinced of the advantage, morally, of hav- ing actual fireplaces — an accommodation rare in French houses. I had passed through the far-famed Palais-Royal in day- light. It was the palace of the dukes of Orleans, and in vastness and variety exceeds the Louvre itself. It is an oblong quadrangle, with piazzas completely round it, enclos- ing a garden planted with rows of trees, and laid with gravel, with flower and grass plots enclosed. The length of the building, longwise, far exceeds that of any building I had ever seen : perhaps about fifteen hundred feet long. The front may be nearly equal to that of Somerset House. It has long ceased to be a palace, though it retains the name, and has, in short, become the great mart of Parisian luxury. It has been called a world in itself; it is at least a city. It encloses more ground than most of the London squares ; and exhibits, under its piazzas, by far the most brilliant shops in Paris, in countless numbers. On the same ground-floor are numbers of coffee-houses and res- taurateurs, fitted up with great variety and taste, and at night brilliantly lighted. On the principal floor up- stairs are superb coffee-houses, gaming-houses, exhibi- tions, &c. — ^ if T^ Wti.IJnl,i..J.m T.i,,,' EDrNBTlRGII WOUWm WILLIAM BLACKWOOD & 3tE W#s •w BATTLE OP WATEKl ! D <0 18 dl Jiuic 181, r j SHEET 2«?_CRISIS UF THE BATTLE a i" jo mrsTOK , f r.ij s ■■•Allies s^» lYnssuuns -. FiviicIibm* r-^« Cavalry pfel iaiiuitiy iAUArlilltTV S t' A 1. B S MiliLarr StL'jis Tfi T?c et each. r-.ifl:isji MOe Si ' ; ''''■■' , V IJ" -^ -^ .,;:::— -•ilk'' / J , .-vr % S/ *#/ " " j ipi /Q;-- Zj S ^ / " - ">ii4juii-.i- lEjj'iSisfl Guard fippirch. / I ^k *nf KfroiT.\/ 7^-', i 1 . EDrKTBDRGH &■ LONDON. WORKS PUBLISHED BV WILLIAM BLACKWOOD AND SONS. MY NOVEL. 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