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| author | nfenwick <nfenwick@pglaf.org> | 2025-04-16 06:21:11 -0700 |
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| committer | nfenwick <nfenwick@pglaf.org> | 2025-04-16 06:21:11 -0700 |
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diff --git a/75873-h/75873-h.htm b/75873-h/75873-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..7568c17 --- /dev/null +++ b/75873-h/75873-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,10029 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html> +<html lang="en"> +<head> + <meta charset="UTF-8"> + <title> + Journal of the Waterloo campaign, vol. 2 of 2 | Project Gutenberg + </title> + <link rel="icon" href="images/cover.jpg" type="image/x-cover"> + <style> + +body { + margin-left: 10%; + margin-right: 10%;} + + h1,h2 { + text-align: center; /* all headings centered */ + clear: both; + margin-top: 1.5em; + margin-bottom: 1em; + word-spacing: 0.2em; + letter-spacing: 0.1em; + line-height: 2em; + font-weight: normal;} + +h1 {font-size: 170%; margin-top: 6em; margin-bottom: 6em; letter-spacing: 0.25em;} +h2 {font-size: 120%; line-height: 1.7em;} + +p { + margin-top: .51em; + text-align: justify; + margin-bottom: .49em; + text-indent: 1em;} + +.p1 {margin-top: 1em;} +.p2 {margin-top: 2em;} +.p4 {margin-top: 4em;} + +.noindent {text-indent: 0em;} + +div.chapter {page-break-before: always;} +h2.nobreak {page-break-before: avoid;} + +.pfs170 {font-size: 170%; text-align: center; text-indent: 0em; word-spacing: 0.3em;} +.pfs120 {font-size: 120%; text-align: center; text-indent: 0em; word-spacing: 0.3em;} +.pfs100 {font-size: 100%; text-align: center; text-indent: 0em; word-spacing: 0.3em;} +.pfs90 {font-size: 90%; text-align: center; text-indent: 0em; word-spacing: 0.3em;} +.pfs80 {font-size: 80%; text-align: center; text-indent: 0em; word-spacing: 0.3em;} +.pfs70 {font-size: 70%; text-align: center; text-indent: 0em; word-spacing: 0.3em;} + +.fs50 {font-size: 50%; font-style: normal;} +.fs70 {font-size: 70%; font-style: normal;} +.fs90 {font-size: 90%; font-style: normal;} +.fs120 {font-size: 120%; font-style: normal;} + + +/* for horizontal lines */ +hr { + width: 33%; + margin-top: 1.5em; + margin-bottom: 1em; + margin-left: 33.5%; + margin-right: 33.5%; + clear: both;} + +hr.chap {width: 65%; margin-left: 17.5%; margin-right: 17.5%;} +hr.r10 {width: 10%; margin-left: 45%; margin-right: 45%;} + +.x-ebookmaker hr.chap {width: 0%; display: none;} + + +/* for inserting info from TN and Errata changes */ +.corr { + text-decoration: none; + border-bottom: thin dashed blue;} + +.x-ebookmaker .corr { + text-decoration: none; + border-bottom: none;} + + +/* for different code on screen versus handhelds */ +.screenonly { display: block; } + +.x-ebookmaker .screenonly { display: none; } + + +/* for tables */ +table {margin: 1.5em auto 1.5em auto;} + +table.autotable { border-collapse: collapse; } + +td {padding: .2em .3em 0 .3em;} + +.tdc {text-align: center; padding-top: 1.7em; padding-bottom: .5em;} +.tdrb {text-align: right; vertical-align: bottom;} +.tdlx {text-align: justify; padding-left: 2em; text-indent: -1.7em; vertical-align: top;} + + +.pagenum { /* uncomment the next line for invisible page numbers */ + /* visibility: hidden; */ + position: absolute; + color: #A9A9A9; + left: 92%; + font-size: small; + text-align: right; + font-style: normal; + font-weight: normal; + font-variant: normal; + text-indent: .5em;} + + +/* blockquote (/# #/) */ +.blockquot { margin: 1.5em 2% 1em 2%; } +.blockquot p {padding-left: 0em; text-indent: 1em;} + + +/* general placement and presentation */ +.right {text-align: right; margin-right: 1em;} + +.smcap {font-variant: small-caps;} +.allsmcap {font-variant: small-caps; text-transform: lowercase;} + +.lsp {letter-spacing: 0.1em;} +.lsp2 {letter-spacing: 0.2em;} +.lsp3 {letter-spacing: 0.3em;} + + +/* Images */ +img {border: none; + max-width: 100%; + height: auto;} + +img.w100 {width: 100%; padding-top: 1em;} + +.figcenter { + margin: auto; + text-align: center; + page-break-inside: avoid; + max-width: 100%;} + + +/* Footnotes */ +.footnotes {border: dashed 1px; margin-top: 2em; margin-bottom: 3em; + padding-bottom: 1em;} + +.footnote {margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; font-size: 90%;} +.footnote p {text-indent: 0em;} +.footnote .label {position: absolute; right: 84%; text-align: right;} + +.fnanchor { + vertical-align: super; + font-size: .8em; + text-decoration: none;} + + +/* Transcriber's notes */ +.transnote {background-color: #E6E6FA; + color: black; + font-size:small; + padding:0.5em; + margin-bottom:5em; + font-family:sans-serif, serif;} + +.transnote p {text-indent: 0em;} + +/* Illustration classes */ +.illowp75 {width: 75%;} + + </style> +</head> +<body> +<div style='text-align:center'>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 75873 ***</div> + + + +<div class="transnote"> +<p><strong>TRANSCRIBER’S NOTE</strong></p> + +<p>Footnote anchors are denoted by <span class="fnanchor">[number]</span>, +and the footnotes have been placed at the end of the book.</p> + +<p>Some minor changes to the text are noted at the <a href="#TN">end of the book.</a> +<span class="screenonly">These are indicated by a <ins class="corr">dashed blue</ins> underline.</span></p> +</div> + + +<figure class="figcenter illowp75" id="cover" style="max-width: 50em;"> + <img class="w100" src="images/cover.jpg" title="Original cover" alt="Original cover"> +</figure> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"></div> + +<h1> +JOURNAL<br> +<span class="fs50 lsp">OF THE</span><br> +WATERLOO CAMPAIGN +</h1> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"></div> + +<p class="p1 pfs170 lsp3">JOURNAL</p> +<p class="p2 pfs70">OF THE</p> +<p class="p1 pfs170 lsp2">WATERLOO CAMPAIGN</p> +<p class="p2 pfs70">KEPT THROUGHOUT THE CAMPAIGN OF 1815</p> + +<p class="p4 pfs80">BY THE LATE</p> +<p class="pfs120 lsp2">GENERAL CAVALIÉ MERCER</p> +<p class="p1 pfs70">COMMANDING THE 9TH BRIGADE ROYAL ARTILLERY</p> + +<p class="p4 pfs80 lsp2">IN TWO VOLUMES</p> +<p class="p1 pfs120">VOL. II.</p> + +<p class="p4 pfs100 lsp2">WILLIAM BLACKWOOD AND SONS</p> +<p class="pfs90 lsp2">EDINBURGH AND LONDON</p> +<p class="pfs80 lsp2">MDCCCLXX</p> + +<p class="p4 pfs80"><em>The Right of Translation is reserved</em></p> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"></div> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_v"></a>[Pg v]</span></p> + +<h2 class="p4 nobreak" id="CONTENTS">CONTENTS OF THE SECOND VOLUME.</h2> +<hr class="r10"> + +<table class="autotable fs90"> +<tr> +<td class="tdc fs120" colspan="2">CHAPTER XV.</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdlx"></td> +<td class="tdrb fs70">PAGE</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdlx">Passage of the Army—The Road blocked up—Preparing to Bivouac—The Nassauers—The White Flag—Reception at Forêt—The Peasantry—Village of + Montay—Ordered to Return—A Night Alarm—A Halt—Visit to Cateau—Our Allies Plundering—The German Bocks—Wretched Fare—Return to Forêt—Female + Costumes—Louis XVIII.—Again on the Move—Difficulties of our March—Aspect of the Country—Lose our Way—Our Destination at Last—Rejoin the + Main Army—Caulincourt’s Country House—Comfortable Quarters—A Warm Welcome—Our Sleeping-Quarters—French Cultivateurs—Their Characteristics—Our Dinner,</td> +<td class="tdrb"><a href="#Page_1">1</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdc fs120" colspan="2">CHAPTER XVI.</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdlx">Passage of the Somme—Indifference of the Natives—Our Quarters—French Deserters—A French Chaussée—Mortemer and its Miseries—Improved + Aspect of the Country—First Traces of the Prussians—Prussian Revenge—A Deputation—Valley of the Oise—Its Scenery—Our March + unopposed—Preparation to Bivouac—Again in Advance—Beauty of the Scenery at Verneuil—Our Bivouac—Plundering—Senlis—Feelings of the + Population—Prussian Lancers—Devastation by the Prussians—Chenevière—Our Night-Quarters,</td> +<td class="tdrb"><a href="#Page_33">33</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdc fs120" colspan="2">CHAPTER XVII.<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_vi"></a>[vi]</span></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdlx">The Cumberland Hussars—Warlike Rumours—Expectation and Excitement—A Quiet Morning—Orders to Advance—We come on the Enemy—Our Dilemma—In + Sight of Montmartre—First Glimpse of Paris—Prussian Devastations again—Comfortless Bivouac—Progress of the Prussians—A Halt—Davoust’s + Country Seat—Devastation in it—Destruction of the Library—Churlishness of our Allies—Rumours of Peace—St Denis—An Excursion—Aspect of + the Country—Revolting Destruction—The Destroyers at Work—Visitors for Paris—Inconstancy of the People—Aspect of the Crowd—At + Arnouvilles—The Royal Cortège—Louis XVIII.,</td> +<td class="tdrb"><a href="#Page_60">60</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdc fs120" colspan="2">CHAPTER XVIII.</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdlx">On the March—The Seine—Beauty of the Country—Passage of the Seine—Colombes—Drawbacks—My Quarters—The Garden and Grounds—View from my + Window—My Chateau—Its Furnishings—State of our Horses—An Excursion—The Country round Paris—View of Paris—A Wet Day—My Landlord—Country + Pleasures—My Occupations—Our Fare—A Fracas—Our Brunswickers Mutinous—Their Complaints—My Answer to them—Harvesting—French Peasantry—The + Women—Food of the Peasantry—Inn Signs—A Lady of the Old Régime—A Ride to Paris—The Seine and its Banks—First Visit to Paris—Aspect of + the Streets—Parisian Equipages—The Champs Elysées—The Place Louis Quinze—The Austerlitz Column—London and Paris—The Streets of Paris—The + Boulevard des Italiens,</td> +<td class="tdrb"><a href="#Page_94">94</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdc fs120" colspan="2">CHAPTER XIX.</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdlx">Our Major Domo—Inspection of Troops—Prospect of Change—Prussian Bivouac—The Louvre—The Venus de Medici—The Laocoon and the Apollo—The + Paintings—The Tuileries—The Gardens—The Palais Royal—Habitués of the Palais—Road to Malmaison—Malmaison—A Panic—A Farmhouse—Versailles—Sevres + and St Cloud—Hôtel Dieu and Nôtre Dame—The Invalides—Models of Fortresses—A Sunday,</td> +<td class="tdrb"><a href="#Page_138">138</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdc fs120" colspan="2">CHAPTER XX.<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_vii"></a>[vii]</span></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdlx">My New Quarters—Their Desolate Aspect—First Night in them—Change of Abode—My New Residence—Ma’amselle Rose—A She-Dragon—Our Fare—The + Villagers—The Maire and his Complaints—More Grievances—The Postmaster of St Denis—Insolence of the Villagers—The Allied Sovereigns—A + Review—Difficulties—Order from Headquarters—A Complaint—A Visitor—Rascalities—The French Police—Pertinacity of my Persecutor—Church + Reopened—Sunday in France—Review of Prussians—A Scene—A Craven—Our Artillery—Positions of Troops—Scenes of Battles—View from + Montmartre—The Works on Montmartre—Belleville and Vincennes—Aspect of Country—Washerwomen—Village Gossip,</td> +<td class="tdrb"><a href="#Page_166">166</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdc fs120" colspan="2">CHAPTER XXI.</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdlx">Sisters of Charity—New Messroom—A House-warming—The Bond Street of Paris—The Boulevards—Their + Frequenters—Street-Beggars—Street-Vendors—Street-Scenes—News-Rooms—Open-Air Loungers—An Exquisite—A Parisian + Restaurant—Waiters—Parisian Cookery—Paris by Night—Torment of Flies—Amicable Relations—The Peasantry—Again at Paris—A Russian + Equipage—A Picturesque Coachman—A Russian Boy—Russian Soldiers—The Austrians,</td> +<td class="tdrb"><a href="#Page_206">206</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdc fs120" colspan="2">CHAPTER XXII.</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdlx">My First Ride to Paris—The Aristocratic Quarters—Different Quarters of the City—Differences in these—The Boulevards—The Quays—The + Squares of London and Paris—An Excursion—Again in Paris—Numbering the Streets—The Jardin des Plantes—The Menagerie—The Hothouses—Released + from Arrest—An Unfortunate Accident—A Comrade’s Quarters—Cabriolet-Drivers—The Fountains—A Street-Lecturer—Itinerant Violinist—A + Suicide—The Change of Dynasty—The Luxembourg—The Chamber of Peers—The Poultry and Flower Market—Marauding Neighbours—A Capture—Bibliothèque + Royale—Cabinet des Gravures—Shop-Signs in Paris—The Palais Royal—Café Aux Milles Colonnes—A Shoeblack’s Establishment—The Jardin du + Prince—The Place des Innocens—The Vegetable Markets—The Louvre once more—The Statuary,</td> +<td class="tdrb"><a href="#Page_233">233</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdc fs120" colspan="2">CHAPTER XXIII.<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_viii"></a>[viii]</span></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdlx">Admiral Rosily’s Villa—The Duke and the 5th Division—Views in the Neighbourhood—Our Patron Saint—Village Amusements—The Fauigny + Affair—M. Fauigny and the Duke—Injustice of the Duke—Indifference as to Dress—A General Order—An Affray—Russian Review—The Allied + Sovereigns—The Russian Artillery—The Artillery Horses—Leave of Absence at last—Regrets at Leaving—My Portmanteau—Departure—Our + Journey—We take the Wrong Road—At Amiens—The Hôtel d’Angleterre—A Caravan Journey—A Cabriolet—A John Bull Astray—Montreuil—An English + Party—A Misadventure—England once more,</td> +<td class="tdrb"><a href="#Page_273">273</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdc fs120" colspan="2">CHAPTER XXIV.</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td class="tdlx">Our Fellow-Passengers—From Dover to Calais—For Paris once more—Montreuil again—Abbeville and its Cathedral—A Bridal Party—Hotel at + Breteuil—A Race—Arrival at Clermont—The Stables at Chantilly—Our Old Quarters at Stain—Attempts at Comfort—A Dreary Winter—Our + Occupations—Outbreaks of Fire—Preparations for Departure—Preparations for a Start—Leave-Takings—Our Quarters at Beaumont—Noailles + and Beauvais—A Scene with our Hostess—The Theatre at Beauvais—Major Dyas—A Cheerless Day’s March—Grandvilliers—An Altercation with + our Host—Quarters at Poix—The Village and its Scenery—A Proposal—Comfortless Quarters—Difficulties at Airaines—Our Amusements—The + Town Shepherd—A Court-Martial—At Boulogne—At Guines—Kindness of Our Hosts—En Route for Calais—Our Stay there—Embarkation and its + Evils—Our Difficulties—Embark at last—England once more,</td> +<td class="tdrb"><a href="#Page_304">304</a></td> +</tr> +</table> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"></div> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_1"></a>[Pg 1]</span></p> + +<p class="p2 pfs170 lsp3">JOURNAL</p> +<p class="p2 pfs70">OF THE</p> +<p class="p1 pfs170 lsp2">WATERLOO CAMPAIGN.</p> + + +<hr class="r10"> + +<div class="chapter"> +<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_XV">CHAPTER XV.</h2> +</div> + + +<p class="noindent"><i>22d.</i>—Morning fine, and things look more cheerful. +March, according to order, at four. Troop +turned out of its wet bivouac; did not look very +brilliant; moreover, there had been no time for +cleaning. The village street such a perfect +slough that even the riding-horses struggled +through with difficulty, and our carriages stuck +fast several times ere they could be brought to +the hard ground beyond. Immediately on +emerging from the orchards, we entered on the +same cheerless uninteresting country as before: +interminable fields of corn, without enclosures,<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_2"></a>[2]</span> +only broken here and there by small patches of +coppice or young timber. Through this sort +of country marched to Bavay; and here we +formed up in the fields by the roadside and dismounted, +whilst an officer was sent to summon +the garrison of Maubeuge—the first word of an +enemy since quitting Waterloo. As the infantry +continued moving on, we were somewhat at a +loss to conjecture what was to be done should +the answer to our summons be unfavourable. +The whole army—cavalry, infantry, and artillery, +English and allies, all appeared to be marching +along this one line of road. We heard nothing +of any columns moving parallel on our flanks, +and for about three hours that we halted here +this incessant passing afforded us some amusement. +The crowd was endless, though varied—regiments +of infantry or cavalry following each +other in constant succession, intermingled with, +and striving to pass, the as endless file of waggons, +baggage-carts, baggage-animals, led horses, +batteries of artillery, and convoys of stores. All +struggled to get ahead to choose a bivouac, or +get the first-fruits of any village or farm on +or near the road, which was sure to be left quite +bare the moment the first corps passed—I mean +bare of provisions; for I believe our people did<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_3"></a>[3]</span> +not otherwise plunder. It might truly be said +that a torrent of men and animals rolled along +the road. Even when we resumed our march +there was no cessation, no diminution of the +crowd. The numbers of servants, sutlers, stragglers, +and women were incredible, and added not +a little to the general confusion. As far back, +too, as I could see, the same swarm covered the +road—the troops seemed to form the smallest +part of the crowd. What the answer was to our +summons we have not yet heard, but suppose all +went on smoothly; for, after a wait of three or +four hours, we again got under way, and made +an attempt to penetrate the throng, but in vain—we +got jammed and stuck fast. Lord Edward, +seeing our case hopeless, abandoned us as soon as +he could get his dragoons disengaged from the +crowd, and took across the fields, leaving me +directions to make the best of my way to Cateau +Cambresis, and bivouac there if I did not find +him and the brigade. In this state we were +obliged to give up all thoughts of pushing on, +and rest contented to swim with the stream. This +swept us in due time into one end of Bavay +(pleasingly situated on a rising ground) and out +at the other, leaving just time to see that the +place had a clean and cheerful appearance, and<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_4"></a>[4]</span> +that the street we passed through was well built +and had many genteel-looking houses in it. +Quitting the town by a steepish hill, we entered +the forest of Mormal; and the road was bordered +on both sides by a thick coppice of hazel, young +ash, &c., over which the larger timber-trees +reared their heads. Many corps of infantry had +drawn off the road, and were busy cutting down +the coppice to prepare their bivouacs by constructing +huts of leaves and branches. Fires +were made, and cooking already going on. Officers, +divested of swords and sashes, were strolling +amongst the thickets, or listlessly lolling under +their leafy bowers. All this would have been +very pretty, but that a heavy shower, which fell +as we struggled through Bavay, had left everything +dripping, consequently deteriorated the +scene much. Still the grouping of the figures +round the fires, or interspersed among the thickets, +was very good. Emerging from the woods, we +again entered on the ocean of corn; but here the +features of the ground were bolder, and the view +more extensive, though not less cheerless.</p> + +<p>At some distance ahead, in a deep valley, of +which the heights all descended by fine bold +slopes, stood the little town of Cateau amidst +flat alluvial meadows, the lively verdure of which,<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_5"></a>[5]</span> +and that of a few trees, contrasted strikingly with +the golden hue of all the country around it. The +road along the plateau on which we now travelled +was hard and excellent, so that, by watching our +opportunity and pushing in whenever an opening +in the crowd permitted, we managed, with +some considerable wrangling, to get ahead. This +was rather a dangerous operation, for the Belgic, +and particularly the Nassau troops, were so savage, +and so constantly threatening us with their bayonets, +that I feared every minute we should come +to blows. In this manner we had struggled on +to the crest of the hill descending toward Cateau, +where, to lessen the descent, it had been cut down, +consequently was confined between high banks. +Now, as the devil would have it, we got into this +gully at the same time with a battalion of Nassau, +and as both parties pressed on to head the other, +some jostling ensued. Our wheels were too formidable +to be resisted when in motion; but at +last we got completely entangled, and then they +turned upon us, striking our horses, and even +pricking them with their bayonets. Our men, of +course, resented this, and a serious affray was +likely to take place; but at last, assisted by their +officers, we disengaged ourselves without any one +being materially hurt, although many had bruises,<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_6"></a>[6]</span> +scratches, and slight bayonet-stabs. In this +affair one fellow was very deliberately going to +give me a <i lang="fr">coup de bayonette</i> in the side, but old +Quartermaster Hall knocked up the point with +his sabre, and could scarcely be prevented from +splitting his skull. The English, with whom we +also occasionally crossed and jostled, contented +themselves with abusing us. For some days after, +we were constantly falling in with these very +people, and our so doing resembling the approach +of two angry dogs. I was constantly alarmed +lest some serious affray should take place. But +they have led me ahead of my march. Somewhat +more than a mile before we came to the descent +above mentioned, we passed through Forêt, a +pretty large village, surrounded as usual by orchards, +with a few small woods scattered about the +vicinity, which diversified agreeably the otherwise +monotonous scenery. On approaching this village, +a dirty sheet or table-cloth, attached to a pole, +and projected from a window of the church-tower, +attracted our attention. It was the first time we +had seen the immaculate <i lang="fr">pavillon blanc</i> since +entering the French territory; and one could not +but admire the wisdom and foresight which had +established as a national standard what could be +readily furnished at any moment by every, even<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_7"></a>[7]</span> +the most humble, <i lang="fr">ménage</i>. A tall, thin, venerable-looking +old man in the clerical habit stood by the +roadside amidst several peasants, male and female. +His countenance was radiant with joy, and he +appeared quite elated in contemplating the column +as it passed along. Pinch after pinch he took +from a little tortoise-shell snuff-box in his left +hand, whilst with earnestness he pointed out to, +or seemed describing, something in our column. +As I came up, followed by my trumpeter, the old +man, uncovering his white head, made me a profound +obeisance. This opened the interview, and +I was soon master of his history. He had been +driven from his <i lang="fr">curé</i> by the Revolution; returned +on the abdication of Napoleon last year; but the +return from Elba had again nearly caused a second +flight. He had, however, ventured to remain, upon +the affectionate assurances of his parishioners, +and after suffering during the Hundred Days most +horrid anxiety and even indignities, had at last +been restored to security and tranquillity by the +battle of Waterloo. He was now come out not +only to witness the passage of the brave English, +to whom his country and himself stood so much +indebted, but also to meet and do homage to his +beloved monarch, who he understood would pass +through Forêt on his way to his capital. Nothing<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_8"></a>[8]</span> +could exceed the good man’s joy; his spirits +quite ran away with him, and his tongue ran +nineteen to the dozen. At parting we cordially +shook hands, and he tendered me the little tortoise-shell +box with the most amiable <i lang="fr">bonhommie</i>. +How the rustics gazed! They seem a very ignorant, +simple people, the peasantry of this country. +Hitherto, since passing the frontier, we have found +them everywhere pursuing their rural labours +with as much tranquillity as in the most profound +state of peace: quite undisturbed by, and exhibiting +very little curiosity about, the continued +passage of foreign troops along their roads and +through their villages. The village of Forêt presented +a cheerful rustic aspect—such as a village +should. Thatched barns and farmhouse in the +usual style of such buildings in England, standing +detached and retired from the broad street, +if so it might be termed, embosomed in apple or +cherry orchards;—quite unlike what one so often +meets with in other parts of France, where the +villages, of stone houses three or four storeys high, +with large windows, &c., appear more like pieces +of towns cut out and popped down here than +what is consonant to our ideas of villages.</p> + +<p>From the place where our scuffle with the +Nassau men took place we descended into the<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_9"></a>[9]</span> +valley by a long winding hill, at the bottom of +which the little village of Montay lay like an +oasis in the desert; verdant meadows overshadowed +by numerous pine-trees, a pretty rivulet +winding along amongst them, here passed +by a narrow stone bridge; the place itself consisting +of one large farm, several cottages, and a +small church;—altogether offering a refreshing +variety in this ocean of corn. The heights rising +abruptly above it on either side make this a sort +of pass, which, had the retiring French thought +fit to defend, would have cost us some trouble +and many lives, no doubt. As it was, although +we understood their outposts were not far, not a +man was in sight; and we were allowed to pass +as quietly as our own internal dissensions would +allow, for the narrowness of the bridge produced +here a fearful struggle. The road along which +the army was marching, passing through Montay, +immediately ascended the opposite heights. A +road branching from this led to Cateau along the +foot of these heights and through the meadows +about a mile or rather more higher up the stream. +We took this road, and thus, for the first time +since leaving Nivelles, enjoyed the indescribable +pleasure of having the road to ourselves. From +the heights on this side of Forêt, whence the view<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_10"></a>[10]</span> +was very extensive, I could distinguish nothing +of the brigade; and now, finding ourselves quite +alone, and seeing no symptoms of troops about +Cateau, I began to be rather uneasy. In this +dilemma I was about to establish my bivouac on +a piece of turf just without the town—for the +evening was fast closing in—when our lieutenant-major-general +of cavalry, Lord Greenock, rode +hastily up, and demanded why we were here. +“My orders were to march to Cateau, my lord, +and bivouac, with which I am complying. I expect +Lord Edward will join us here;” and I gave +him an account of their taking to the fields, &c. +“There is some mistake in this,” replied Lord +Greenock. “Your brigade has halted at Forêt, +and you must return thither, for you are now in +a very dangerous position, and at all events ought +not to have crossed the river. The enemy’s outposts +are on the heights; and should they attempt +anything during the night, which is probable, +you could never recross the bridge. Return, +therefore, without delay.” This was comfortable, +to have to grope our way to Forêt, and when +there pick out a bivouac; and the alternative +that of remaining and being caught in this <i lang="fr">coupe +gorge</i>. The idea was not a pleasant one. Disobeying +orders, too! We countermarched, however;<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_11"></a>[11]</span> +but on reaching Montay the stream of +people and carriages sweeping over the narrow +bridge made it evidently useless attempting to +move in a contrary direction. I gave up the idea, +and established my bivouac in the little churchyard +close to the bridge. I felt less compunction +at doing this, because several regiments of Hanoverian +infantry had extended themselves in +bivouac along the meadows, both up and down +the stream, on the same side; and, moreover, I +had learned from Lord Greenock that two or +three troops of horse-artillery and a large corps +of hussars were occupying the plateau in front, +between us and the enemy. Under the impression +of security, therefore, I laid myself down +after our evening meal was finished, expecting +a good sleep; but my eyes were scarcely closed +ere the never-to-be-mistaken sound of a distant +cannonade caused me to start up again. Everything +around was perfectly still; the Hanoverians +seemed to be all asleep; and no stir or bustle of +any kind in our immediate neighbourhood indicated +an alarm. The cannonade, too, though +sometimes more distinctly heard than at others, +did not, on the whole, seem to approach. After +listening for a time, sleep got the better of me, +and I sank down in spite of the distant cannonade<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_12"></a>[12]</span> +and the more immediate concert of thousands +of frogs in the adjoining ditch.</p> + +<p><i>23d.</i>—A fine day. Uneasy at hearing nothing +of the brigade being in motion. The cannonade +during the night proceeded from Sir Charles Colville +and the 4th division attacking Cambray.</p> + +<p>About noon Sir Augustus Frazer, with Sir +Julius Hartman of the K. G. Legion horse-artillery, +paid us a visit. From them I learned that +headquarters are established in Cateau, and that +the Duke intends halting in our present position +for a day or two to give time for the rear of the +army to close up, since, from the rapidity of our +march, and from the whole marching in a single +column, many corps are still a long way in the +rear. At the same time, Cambray on our right +and Landrecy on our left are to be secured before +we advance further. Moreover, we are likely, it +seems, to have another battle immediately, for the +French army has rallied in considerable force, and +is in position not far in front of us. Upon this +intelligence I decided on remaining at Montay +until the brigade should come up; therefore, +leaving my second captain to inspect ammunition, +and forward cleaning, repairing, shoeing, &c., I +set off with our two visitors on their return to +Cateau. This place, which is very small, is situated<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_13"></a>[13]</span> +in a rich alluvial bottom amongst fine, well-irrigated +meadows. The only trees, however, in +this bottom are at Montay. The town is surrounded +by a simple wall, perhaps only for excise +purposes; and I was at a loss to conjecture the +use of a single battery of two or three pieces near +the gate leading to Montay. On entering this +gate I was struck by the dismal aspect of the +street within—narrow, dirty, and composed of +mean-looking houses built of sombre-coloured +stone, and scarcely a human being visible; for +although headquarters were here, none of the +members of it were to be seen in the streets. +Priests in their black cassocks and band strode +solemnly along from time to time. The house in +which the Duke lodged was the only decent-looking +one in the place. It stood at the extremity +of the street, crossing at right angles the one we +entered by—large, and pierced with numerous +windows, apparently new, and having the advantage +of a row of three or four fine trees in front. +Some pretensions there were, too, to architectural +decorations in the façade, which was of stucco, +painted buff. Cateau was soon seen, and I returned +to Montay, where I found the poor farmer +(the farm adjoined the church) in great distress. +The Hanoverians were plundering barns, farmyard,<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_14"></a>[14]</span> +and all. “<span lang="fr">Ah, monsieur, tout sera abimé!</span>” +cried the poor fellow, wringing his hands, and +presenting the very picture of despair. Yesterday +evening he complained to me, and I did what +I could to prevent it, but without much effect. +The bivouac of these marauders in the adjoining +meadows was only separated from his garden by +a sort of willow hedge; and although I planted +sentries for the protection of it, everything disappeared. +This morning, becoming bolder, they +have plundered his barns, &c., and even threatened +the house itself. As we draw our own supplies +of eggs, milk, &c., from the farm, I did what +I could to save him from further plunder, and +sent Breton to remonstrate with their commanding +officer, and give him to understand that, unless +he kept his men under better discipline, I +would report him to the Duke. Got nothing by +this, for he persisted in not understanding English. +Thus we have been obliged to be constantly +on the alert, and to keep them out by main force. +The poor farmer is very grateful, and loud in +praise of <i lang="fr">les bons Anglais</i>, whilst he <i lang="fr">sacrés</i>, &c., +their allies down to the bottomless pit—“<span lang="fr">aux +enfers.</span>” He admits the truth of what I said +about retaliation, and turned up his eyes in horror +at the account I gave him of the ravages committed<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_15"></a>[15]</span> +by French troops in other countries. +“<span lang="fr">Mais, monsieur, je le crois bien, les soldats Français +<ins class="corr" id="tn-15" title="Transcriber’s Note—Original text: 'sout'"> +sont</ins> de vrais brigands; ils pillent partout même +dans la patrie; oui, monsieur, ici même;</span>” and he +related how a detachment of cuirassiers had +quartered on him for three days, having only +departed the morning of that in which we arrived. +They had treated him cruelly; and not +content with living on him all that time, were on +the point of destroying everything that was left +and burning the premises, when the unexpected +appearance of some of our advanced corps obliged +them to make a precipitate retreat. In the evening, +a general parade of the Germans. They have +formed a sort of diminutive tents for the night by +striking two ramrods into the ground, crossed, to +form each end; I forget how they form the ridge. +A blanket is laid over, and the other two serve to +lie under and over the three men the tent just +holds. The different bands, all good, continued +playing until after dusk, which we enjoyed sitting +in the willow hedge smoking our cigars. The +scene was remarkably pretty. Groups of men +scattered about amongst the little tents, some +preparing supper, &c.; the bands, with officers in +picturesque costumes hovering about them; the +town of Cateau in the background; and on either<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_16"></a>[16]</span> +hand the picture shut in by bold naked slopes of +the neighbouring heights.</p> + +<p><i>24th.</i>—Fine warm morning, but day promises +to be rather too hot. Not a gun to be heard +to-day by the sharpest ear; the business at Cambray +must be settled somehow or other. Getting +accustomed to our churchyard. To be sure, +none of the graves are recent; it seems long +since any one has been buried here. Hitchins +and I have decided on breakfasting together; +and as he is more at leisure than I am, he has +undertaken the foraging department. This morning +our repast consisted of bread (sour as vinegar), +cheesy butter, and hard eggs, washed down with +weak grog (Hollands)—table a grave. Ever since +we passed Mons good bread is not to be had—all +is of this horrid sour description. To the eye +it is well enough. The peasantry make their +bread in large flat loaves, 2 or 2½ feet in diameter—no +mistake!—nearly circular. Sometimes the +loaves are annular, and of the above diameter. +Enter Lieutenant and Adjutant Bell, R.H.A., +and I can write no more, for he no doubt brings +news.</p> + +<p>9 <span class="allsmcap">P.M.</span>—Here we are, then, back again in Forêt. +Bell brought us the order to return forthwith, as +the brigade was to march without delay on Landrecy,<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_17"></a>[17]</span> +the commandant of which place refuses to +surrender. We lost no time in obeying the +order, and the road being now quite clear—indeed +solitary—marched here in a very short time; +and instead of finding the brigade ready to +move, were surprised on reaching the village at +seeing the Life Guardsmen quietly grooming their +horses in front of the barns and stables of their +billets. The place being already full, we were +directed to bivouac, and accordingly I pitched +upon this orchard, which is high and dry; but +the trees are too young and too far apart to afford +us much shade, which we want just now. The +arrival of strangers attracted a concourse of +villagers to our bivouac, many old women and +young girls bringing quantities of very fine cherries +for sale. The former were remarkably coarse +and ugly, the latter generally pretty, and all had +sparkling, speaking eyes. These, of course, sold +their cherries first; but the article was too grateful +in such a roasting day as this has been not +to insure the sale of all. The costume of these +women—who, by the way, seemed quite at home +with us—was rather picturesque. Lofty white +caps, with long flaps hanging down to the shoulders, +their naked stays sometimes not very +closely laced, bosom covered with a coloured<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_18"></a>[18]</span> +handkerchief put on with a degree of taste, +coarse woollen petticoats of a blue stuff striped +with white or pink and reaching only to the +calf of the leg, coarse woollen stockings, and +clumsy wooden shoes (<i lang="fr">sabots</i>). Most of them +wore large gold or silver rings in their ears, and +many a little golden cross suspended from the +neck by a black riband or a strip of black velvet. +The Duke has published a manifesto from Cateau. +Several copies are stuck up in the village, and +the people here seem very much pleased with it; +and well they may, for it assures them they shall +be treated like gentlemen, and not get the +punishment which France, as a nation, so richly +deserves. It calls upon the people to remain +quietly at home, as we make no war on them, +but ought rather to be considered as their allies; +further, it goes on to assure them that the +strictest discipline will be maintained in the +Allied army, and that everything required by the +troops must be paid for at its full value. The +Forêtiens, and particularly the Forêtiennes, actually +express astonishment at our generosity.</p> + +<p>Louis XVIII., &c., passed through the village +this evening on his way to Cateau. Leathes and +I rode a little way out to meet him, which we +did about a quarter of a mile off. The cortège<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_19"></a>[19]</span> +consisted of several Berlines, escorted by about +two squadrons of the Royal Garde de Corps—fine +young men (all gentlemen), dressed in a very +becoming uniform, blue turned up with red, and +silver lace tastefully disposed, with Grecian helmets, +silver, with a golden sun on the front, the +most elegant I ever saw. The king was in the +last carriage, on each side of which rode the +Duc de Berri and that General whose acquaintance +I made on the drill-ground near Alost. We +had drawn up on the roadside as the cortège +passed. The moment the Duc de Berri and the +General saw us, they came up, and, offering us +their hands, poured forth such a torrent of compliments +and congratulations as made even our +horses blush. His Royal Highness could never +sufficiently testify his gratitude to the English +nation, &c. &c.; was impatient to see us in +Paris, for then and there indeed, &c. &c. The +General was equally profuse in compliments and +promises, so that, forgetting the adage, “Put not +your trust in princes,” Leathes and I have ever +since been feeling the Croix de St Louis dangling +at our breasts—<i lang="fr">nous verrons</i>! The monarch +was detained from his dinner more than half an +hour by my worthy friend Mons. le Curé, who, in +full pontificals, and followed by his congregation<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_20"></a>[20]</span> +<i lang="fr">en habits de Dimanches</i>, met him at the entrance +of the village, and, standing on a little bank at +the coach-door, delivered a long harangue, set off +by Mandarine-like bobs of the head at the end of +every period, and a most profound bow at the +conclusion, all which were received and returned +by his Majesty with exemplary patience and +punctuality. At length the cortège moved on, +and we returned to our orchard.</p> + +<p><i>25th.</i>—Here we are, another day’s march in advance, +not only without the expected battle, but +also without having either seen or heard of an +enemy. Nor have we seen any traces of one, +having found the peasantry everywhere as peaceably +occupied as if no war existed. Nothing more +have we heard of Landrecy, which, I suppose, must +have surrendered, since Lord Edward sent us +orders this morning to march on Sequehart, +where the brigade halts to-night. Accordingly I +marched immediately towards Montay in a thick +drizzling rain, which made this dismal country +appear ten times more dismal. The cavalry regiments +marched at the same time (about five <span class="allsmcap">A.M.</span>?) +and we kept company as far as Montay; but +there they left us, for we found the road again so +choked with baggage, &c., that although we succeeded +in passing the bridge, yet the deep hollow<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_21"></a>[21]</span> +road (<i lang="fr">encaissé</i> between very high steep banks), +ascending to the opposite heights, was so inextricably +crammed with carriages, and the unctuous +soil so slippery, that I feared we should bivouac +in the churchyard again. We attempted the +ascent, and being better horsed than the others, +succeeded in getting ahead wherever an opening +offered. Our column was broken into as many +fractional parts as we had carriages. At length, +after a most arduous struggle, we mustered our +whole force on the plateau, and pushed forward +in the old way—sometimes getting along pretty +smoothly by keeping one side of the road; then +a choke would stop us for a time, until, an opportunity +offering, the head of our column would +make a dash and break the file of waggons; but +occasionally in doing this, if the rear carriages +did not keep close up, the waggoners would dash +in their turn, and cut them off. Then again we +got foul of our Nassau friends, and the old quarrel +was revived; cursing, swearing, and bayoneting +followed as matter of course. The road itself +was execrable, and in places a complete slough. +It appears that our march has been so conducted +as to avoid the main avenues, and thus turn the +fortresses; consequently, with the exception of +some little bits of chaussée, we have been travelling<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_22"></a>[22]</span> +on the cross-roads—in France always execrable. +On gaining the plateau we saw everywhere +around us again those interminable fields +of wheat—not a hedge nor a dividing wall; the +only relief a few small woods here and there. A +hamlet we occasionally met with, and sometimes +a solitary cabaret of the meanest appearance—“<span lang="fr">Ici +on loge à pied et à cheval,</span>” scrawled on a +board in black letters, on a dirty-white ground, +invited the traveller to enter. Sometimes a longer +inscription set forth other inducements. I pity +the luckless wight who trusts to their hospitality. +A remarkable feature in the cheerless scenery of +these oceans of corn is the row of apple-trees so +frequently seen skirting the horizon. The by-roads +here are frequently bordered by apple or +pear trees, which accounts for this. As we advanced +on the plateau, and still found no concentration +of troops, or other indication of the neighbourhood +of the enemy, our expectation of another +battle vanished. Insensibly we had deviated +from the general route, and found ourselves only +accompanied by Major Bull’s troop of horse-artillery. +Bull had got the same discretionary +orders from his general as myself, and was also +making his way to Sequehart, where his brigade +was to halt. The country had become prettier<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_23"></a>[23]</span> +and more interesting, and the rain had ceased. +Woods were more frequent and larger, and at last +we marched through what might strictly be termed +a wooded country. The ground, too, became more +undulating, and pastures of green meadows occurred +to relieve most agreeably the tiresome +sameness of the corn crops. Occasionally, also, +openings between the woods would give us glimpses +of distant and pretty country. But where +dwell the husbandmen who cultivate those lands? +In this district we saw not a single habitation, +and only here and there met a solitary peasant—not +working, but in the road—moving from one +place to another. Of these we incessantly demanded +“<span lang="fr">Où se trouve Sequehart?</span>” and the response +was invariably “<i lang="fr">N’sais paw, Monsire</i>,” or +a shake of the head. Bull and I began to be uneasy +as the evening drew on, whilst we were +surrounded by woods, and not the slightest appearance +of a village to be seen. Our own people +were now the only troops visible, and we began +to suspect what proved to be true—we had lost +ourselves!</p> + +<p>We were so enclosed by woods that it was impossible +to see to any distance; and cross-roads +branching off right and left became very frequent, +so that we were puzzled how to proceed. Every<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_24"></a>[24]</span> +peasant we met persisted in knowing nothing of +Sequehart, nor had met any other troops. We +were evidently astray. At last an old man, to +whom the usual questions were put, after puzzling +over it for a few minutes, begged we would +repeat the name. “Sequehart!—Sequehart!” +said he, two or three times. “<i lang="fr">Monsire, n’le connois +paw</i>; <span lang="fr">mais, ma foi, ce sera sans doute Escars +que vous cherchez.</span>” We stared in our turn, but +the old man was positive, and insisted that we +were leaving it behind us. After some little irresolution, +Bull and I made up our minds to follow +his directions; and accordingly, after a few miles +threading our way between woods, arrived here a +little before sunset. The village is already full +of Life Guards, and therefore we are obliged to +bivouac again; but that is of little moment, for we +have an excellent spot on a rising ground, covered +with short velvety turf, close to the chaussée +leading to St Quentin, on the other side of which, +about two or three hundred yards distant, is the +village of Sequehart, or Escars, so buried in the +foliage of fine walnut-trees, and of the hedges enclosing +the gardens and some fields, that scarcely +a roof is to be seen; and it is only through the +ascending columns of blue smoke from amongst +the trees that the site of the village is to be detected.<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_25"></a>[25]</span> +From the swelling hills up which the St +Quentin road runs in front of us, the short clean +turf, and the chalk (or gypsum) that appears in +patches where this has been removed, we might +fancy ourselves on the South Downs, in Sussex. +It is a sweet rural spot, and, what is better, we +see few signs of war about us; for except Walcott’s +troop (rocket), which has just come up, no other +soldiers whatever are to be seen. Bull left us at +the other side of the village, and our cavalry are, +like it, buried in the foliage and invisible to us. +We understand headquarters are at Joncour, a +village not far off, and that Lord Hill’s division is +at Belleglise, somewhere in front, so that we may +sleep securely to-night. Lovely evening.</p> + +<p><i>26th.</i>—Fine morning. Marched early, and, crossing +the downs, traversed beyond them a pretty +well-wooded country, diversified very agreeably +by several large sheets of water, formed by embankments, +and regained the route of our army, +which we had deviated from yesterday at Belleglise, +just as the bustle commenced. Plunged +once more into the torrent, with all its <i lang="fr">désagrémens</i> +and vexations, and swam along with it as +before. The wooded country gave place to the +dismal sea of corn a little beyond Belleglise; but +after travelling about four or five miles through<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_26"></a>[26]</span> +this tiresome region, we once more came amongst +trees, and crossed a deep ravine, or rather wooded +valley, in which was situated a most respectable-looking +country-house, brick, with stone angles, +window-cases, &c., standing upon a terrace, with +an old-fashioned garden divided into rectangular +beds, with stone vases, &c., sheltered in the rear +by the woods, and to the south looking upon a +fine sheet of water—artificial, no doubt—most +probably formed by damming up the stream which +we crossed in the bottom. The country people +told us this place belongs to Caulaincourt, Duc de +Vicenza, which is no doubt the truth, since in +my map I find it called Caulaincourt. The hanging +woods and shady winding paths of this ravine +appeared to us heavenly when contrasted with the +dreary exposed plain above; and this, if possible, +was more hideous than ever when we again debouched +upon it—a dead flat, unrelieved by the +slightest undulation—a sea of wheat extending +to the horizon, with here and there a few clumps +of beggarly pines, and the usual straggling lines of +apple-trees fringing the horizon. I forget where, +but it must have been just before crossing the +valley at Caulaincourt that we left the direct route, +together with Bull’s and Whinyate’s troops, as we +were directed to halt for the night at Etreillers.<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_27"></a>[27]</span> +After marching two or three miles more over this +uninteresting plain, on passing one of these circular +pine clumps we suddenly came in sight of +fine trees bounding the horizon, intermixed with +buildings, which, on approaching it, proved to be +Etreillers. The village is a very large one, composed +principally of large farms, with a few dwellings +of an inferior description, all, however, standing +back in gardens, or in their large straw-yards, +which are separated from the broad avenues constituting +the village street by high walls, with a great +gateway of entrance, and generally surrounded +on three sides by orchards. Such quarters are +quite a luxury; for although we are three troops +in the village, yet all get under cover, man and +horse, in houses, barns, stables, &c. The appearance +of the place is not gay, and may truly be +said to harmonise in tone with the dreary but +fruitful plain around. The buildings are generally +of a dark stone, with enormous thatched +roofs, which, if not lively, has at least an air of +substantial comfort that makes ample amends +for everything else.</p> + +<p>I have established myself in a most comfortable +farmhouse of the first class, and, to complete +my good fortune, have an exceedingly +pretty and most obliging hostess. Instead of<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_28"></a>[28]</span> +the black looks an intruder like myself might +have expected, I was received with smiles, and a +welcome which sounded sincere. I was shown +into their best room (the one which I now write +in), my horses into the best stable, and everything +done to make me most comfortable. My fair +friend has let out one reason for all this, although +I still believe genuine hospitality has a great +share in it—she is delighted at having English +instead of Prussians quartered on her; all the +country are in dread of the latter. As may be +supposed, we were soon quite at home—I say we, +for my second captain (Newland) was with me. +In the stable, men and boys have been at work +helping our men to clean their horses, whilst in +the house the women busied themselves in arranging +our room, cooking dinner, and even +asking for our dirty linen, which they are in +the act of washing for us, so that to-day I can +afford a clean shirt and still start to-morrow with +a clean kit. The room we occupy is large and +rather dark, for there are only two small windows +looking out to the farmyard, and these rather +obscured with the white draperies with which +they are ornamented. The furniture is coarse +and clumsy, made of walnut, and is as black as +ebony. One side of the room is occupied by two<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_29"></a>[29]</span> +sleeping-places, let into the wall, exactly like the +berths on shipboard. The bedding in these, +though coarse also, is very good, and, like everything +else, scrupulously clean; the sheets have +just been put in. Our servants have comfortable +beds allotted to them, and have become as much +at home in the kitchen as if they were old acquaintances. +Whilst dinner was preparing, I +sallied forth to see how my people were put up, +and had scarcely left the yard when I encountered +an old peasant wearing an enormous cocked-hat, +and having a drum suspended from his neck by a +broad band, on which he occasionally gave a sort of +roll or flourish. His grotesque figure, as well as +his employment, attracted my attention, and I +was somewhat mystified on observing that every +flourish on the drum was responded to by an +opening of doors and the sallying out of old +ladies, each bearing under her arm one of those +enormous loaves already mentioned. What can +all this mean, thought I? Is it possible that in +this most military of all nations even women are +subject to regulations, and obliged to conduct the +<i lang="fr">ménage</i> by tap of drum or sound of bugle? One +old lady, with a huge annular loaf, whom I questioned, +soon solved the query. The commissary +had ordered the inhabitants to feed the troops,<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_30"></a>[30]</span> +and this drumming hero was the crier, who gave +notice to that effect, and was likewise collecting +all the ready-baked bread at the church for distribution. +The thing seemed perfectly well understood, +each roll of the drum producing precisely +the same effect as the crier moved along +the great rambling street. The old women, as +they trotted towards the church, made a clatter +with their <i lang="fr">sabots</i> like so many horses. Many of the +people I found had, on our first arrival, concealed +everything; but the dread of being plundered +was soon removed, and all is now confidence. +As far as I can judge, these people seem to live +well enough in their own way; and in every +house one is sure to find good beds, very high, +being raised upon an enormous palliasse. There +is no want of silver spoons, and even forks, in +many of them; and their stock of household +linen (good) is really astonishing, many small +<i lang="fr">cultivateurs</i> possessing as much as would set +up two or three of our middling farmers. I use +the term “<i lang="fr">cultivateur</i>” to designate a class quite +common in France, but scarcely known in England. +They are proprietors of small estates (perhaps +only a few acres), fractions of large ones +sold in lots during the Revolution. These, of +course, they cultivate themselves, with the assistance<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_31"></a>[31]</span> +of their families, and are thence styled +“<i lang="fr">cultivateurs</i>” by the Government, and are +obliged to put this, coupled with their number +(they are all numbered), upon their carts, &c.—for +example, “<span lang="fr">Joachim Laroque, cultivateur, No. +3755;</span>” or “<span lang="fr">Jean Baptiste Amand,</span>” &c. &c. &c.</p> + +<p>We find them a simple, obliging, but very ignorant +race; and their <i lang="fr">patois</i> is to me almost +unintelligible. Some with whom I conversed +this evening either were, or pretended to be, quite +ignorant of what has been taking place in the +great world. They had heard that France was +at war with England, Russia, and Prussia, but +that was all. They had never heard of Wellington, +nor of Nelson, nor even Louis XVIII. +They had, however, heard enough to inspire them +with some dread of the Cossacks and Prussians. +I asked them if they knew Buonaparte? +<span lang="fr">“Non, monsieur—non y pas!” “Napoleon?—aw +mais oui, monsieur, c’est l’Empereur que +ça—n’est ce paw vrai, monsieur?”</span> They had +heard of him because he made them pay taxes; +but of his wars they were as ignorant as all the +rest, and did not speculate the least in the world +as to how and why we are here.</p> + +<p>Returned <em>home</em> (conceive being <em>at home</em> in a +French farmhouse!) just as the good woman was<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_32"></a>[32]</span> +placing a most inviting fricasseed fowl and <i lang="fr">omelette +aux herbes</i>, smoking hot, upon our table, to +which, with a good bottle of <i lang="fr">vin du pays</i>, we +lost no time in doing justice. We have passed +a most comfortable evening; and if we may +judge by the laughing and chattering in the +kitchen, our servants and the rustics have not +passed it badly. As their door is opposite to ours, +we have occasionally peeped in upon them, and +been much amused at seeing the ploughmen +equipped in our men’s helmets, belts, &c.; but +their chief source of amusement appeared to be +reciprocally teaching each other English and +French words—the attempt at pronouncing which +causes infinite fun.</p> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"></div> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_33"></a>[33]</span></p> + +<h2 class="p4 nobreak" id="CHAPTER_XVI">CHAPTER XVI.</h2> + +<p class="noindent"><i>27th.</i>—Fine warm morning. Started early after +an excellent breakfast of coffee and <i lang="la">et ceteras</i>. +Our orders were to rejoin the grand column at +Ugny l’Equippée; but we had not gone far from +Etreillers when two roads, branching off in different +directions, brought us to a halt. Lord +Greenock came up just at the moment, and blamed +me for not bringing a guide from the village—“Better +late than never.” I took the hint, and +sent Trumpeter Brown back with orders to bring +the first person he could lay hands on, <i lang="la">nolens +volens</i>. He went his way and brought back <em>a +tailor</em>, escorting him like a prisoner with his +drawn sabre. Not knowing why he was thus +forcibly taken from his home, the poor tailor +appeared terribly alarmed—imploring mercy +even with tears. When told, however, what was +expected of him, he soon became tranquil; so,<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_34"></a>[34]</span> +sticking him at the head of the column, we jogged +on again. At Ugny l’Equippée we rejoined the +column and dismissed our tailor, slipping into the +main stream as heretofore. We now learned that +the army was about to cross the Somme, and soon +felt that it was actually engaged in so doing from +our long and tedious halts—there being but one +ford, which made the operation a very slow one. +As we drew near the river the country improved +somewhat, became more undulating and more +wooded, consequently prettier.</p> + +<p>The Somme here is but a small stream; flat +meadows extend some little way on each side, +and are bordered by moderate hills, running out +here and there into knolls. The point chosen for +our passage was a ford just above a mill on the +road to Nesle. Péronne having been taken yesterday +by General Maitland’s brigade of Guards, +the only enemy we heard of in our vicinity was +the garrison of Ham, and they could scarcely +have opposed our passage even had they not been +shut up by a brigade of light infantry and a +troop of horse-artillery (Ross’s), which had been +sent to summon them. The different divisions +of cavalry, infantry, and artillery, winding down +the swelling knolls, some of which were prettily +wooded, and the picturesque groups of staff and<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_35"></a>[35]</span> +other officers on the points of these knolls, superintending +the passage of their respective brigades, &c., +formed altogether an animated and pleasing picture, +although not much could be said for the beauty +of the country on the opposite side of the river, +which looked cheerless enough. It was in one of +those groups, and the most picturesque of them—for +they were German hussars—that I recognised +and shook hands with my friend General Victor +Alten, whom I had not seen for more than +three years. An interesting meeting, for he was +surrounded by a number of other old acquaintances +of the 2d Hussars.</p> + +<p>A foot-bridge at the mill enabled the infantry +to file over; but we had to ford, and got a tolerable +wetting, for the water was up to our saddle-skirts. +On the other side, about a mile from the river, we +reached Nesle, the intervening country enclosed +but not wooded, consequently much more ugly +and uninteresting than if it had been open. +Nesle is a dismal, dirty town, situated on an +eminence of no great elevation, and perfectly in +character with the melancholy country around it.</p> + +<p>This is the first town we have marched through +in France. I think it must have been market-day, +from the number of people in the streets; +yet not the slightest apprehension or agitation<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_36"></a>[36]</span> +appeared; and, as we passed along, the market-people +merely turned up their heads, and the +shopkeepers came to their doors to gaze on +us, much as if we had been marching through +Exeter, or any other English town accustomed +to see troops.</p> + +<p>Since crossing the Somme, the army has marched +more cautiously than hitherto, consequently +we have been all day with our brigade. At Nesle +we got on a chaussée, bordered on each side by +large elms, consequently forming a fine avenue; +the country on either side without enclosures +and not interesting, although better wooded +than immediately about that town. Roye was +ahead of us, but when within a few miles of +it the head of our column led off the chaussée, +crossing the fields by a by-road, and then another +chaussée, Péronne to Paris, until we gained +the village of Goyencour, situated in a pretty, +because well-wooded, country. This village, like +most of those we have hitherto passed through, +is composed of a number of farmhouses scattered +over a large space, and embowered amongst +orchards and some of the finest linden-trees I +ever saw.</p> + +<p>The Life Guards and my troop are all housed, +so that we are fortunate again. For my part, I<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_37"></a>[37]</span> +am quartered on a small shop, which, however, +is very clean; and we have excellent beds, Newland +and I. In front of the house an open space +affords good room to draw up our guns, &c., +adjoining which are the very pretty pleasure-grounds +of a handsome villa, seen through a +stately avenue of lindens. This place belongs to +some lady, who it seems has taken to flight on +hearing of our approach, leaving, however, her +butler and some other servants behind; so that +Lord Edward, who has taken up his quarters +there, is as comfortable as he could wish to be. +I have just returned from dining with him, and +a better dinner, dessert, and wines,<a id="FNanchor_1" href="#Footnote_1" class="fnanchor">[1]</a> it is impossible +to have enjoyed. What a treat in the +midst of a campaign to enjoy such a party. Besides +his lordship’s personal staff, there were the +two colonels of the Life Guards. The front of +the house, having part of the pleasure-ground (it +might almost be called a park) in the fore, has +the town of Roye in the distance; a pretty terrace +with aloes in vases and other choice shrubs +occupies the space immediately under the windows, +which, opening to the ground, admit one<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_38"></a>[38]</span> +into a suite of elegantly-furnished rooms. Lord +Edward was perfectly at home, and did the honours +as if the house were his, and so did the butler +and other servants. A quieter, better-ordered dinner, +and more excellent, I repeat, could not be.</p> + +<p>Lord Edward had heard that, after a little show +of resistance, Ham had surrendered this morning; +and we were speculating over our first glass of +wine on the probability of reaching Paris without +resistance, when an officer of the Life Guards +came in to report that a strong corps of cavalry +had been seen amongst the woods about a mile +from the village. As his lordship knew positively +that the main body of the French force was +retreating before the Prussians, who had got a +march ahead of us, he contented himself with +ordering out a strong detachment to reconnoitre, +and we continued at table. In the course of the +evening the detachment returned, and a report +was brought in that they had ascertained that +the cavalry seen was a corps of about 600 men, +composed of deserters from the French army; +and these people, taking advantage of the present +state of affairs, have been plundering and levying +contributions in all the villages, and even towns, +throughout this country—that the inhabitants +of Amiens itself are greatly alarmed, and have<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_39"></a>[39]</span> +been anxiously expecting our arrival as their only +protection against these brigands—a French +population actually hailing the arrival of their +English invaders with joy! Not knowing what +these desperadoes may attempt, we have doubled +our guards. The division is ordered to be on +the alert, and patrols are established for the +night. I shall undress and enjoy my nice clean +bed, nevertheless.</p> + +<p><i>28th.</i>—A fine morning, after a quiet night, notwithstanding +the banditti. Marched early to Roye +by a cross-road bordered by apple-trees. Here +we rejoined the main column, and got upon +the chaussée to Paris by Pont St Maxence, &c., a +fine broad road as usual, the middle paved (rather +roughly) with a summer or unpaved road on each +side, the whole bordered by noble elms, and +generally a perfectly straight direction: tiresome +this from the long vistas which open on one from +the summit of every elevation. The country on +either hand flat and covered with corn as usual, +but had nothing of the wearying sameness of that +I so much complained of a day or two ago; for +here it was prettily broken by woods and villages, +and the distance, instead of terminating with the +fringe of apple-trees, presents an interesting range +of blue hills. This day’s march, however, has<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_40"></a>[40]</span> +not been marked by any occurrence, either of +scenery or adventure, worthy of notice. Towards +evening, when Lord Edward was about to establish +his night-quarters, he directed me to leave the +chaussée to take possession of a little place about +a quarter of a mile off; and here I am in Mortemer, +perhaps one of the most miserable hamlets +in all the country. Its short straggling street of +poor cottages we found quite deserted, and they +have taken away everything that could be useful +to us, leaving only the walls and roofs. These +cottages are built of rough limestone, and the +interiors we have found so filthy and full of vermin, +that, one and all, we have preferred to bivouac +in the orchards ourselves, and have put our +horses into the houses; straw spread under guns +and ammunition-waggons, with the painted covers +closing them in to windward, forms no despicable +sleeping-place. One of my drivers, rummaging +about, has discovered a vast quantity of excellent +household linen buried under the floor. Several +other discoveries of this sort have been made; +but I have strictly forbidden anything being +touched, only leaving these <i lang="fr">caches</i> open that the +natives may know they have not deceived us, but +are beholden to us for our moderation. Had we +depended on Mortemer, we should have gone supperless<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_41"></a>[41]</span> +to bed; but Mr Coates has been so successful +in foraging the neighbourhood, that both +man and horse have fared sumptuously.</p> + +<p><i>29th.</i>—Since yesterday the character of the +country has been insensibly changing: country-houses +with extensive gardens and pleasure-grounds, +and a more careful style of architecture, +seem to indicate an approach to the capital. The +villages, too, alas! in my estimation, are changed +for the worse—the large thatched farmhouses, +barns, &c., and rural cottages, scattered amongst +orchards and verdure, have given place to regular +streets of three-storey houses. Pieces of towns—surely +not villages—these! Mortemer was an +exception. The scenery, too, has improved: features +more bold and varied, better wooded, and +habitations more numerous. The chain of blue +hills seen yesterday continues to bound the southern +horizon. The first village we passed after +leaving Mortemer was almost entirely composed +of respectable houses standing in gardens, and +having lofty iron railings (<i lang="fr">grilles</i>) to the street. +I think this was Cuvilly. Hitchins and I breakfasted +as usual, <i lang="fr">en chemin</i>. We find this a good +plan, marching as we do so early. Each of us +has his cold salt-beef and biscuit in his havresack, +and weak grog in his canteen. The troop fairly<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_42"></a>[42]</span> +started, we drop astern a little, the Doctor produces +the profits of his evening’s forage in the +shape of hard-boiled eggs, &c. I have seldom +enjoyed anything more than these ambulatory +breakfasts in the cool refreshing air of a calm +morning. A cigar always concludes my repast, +and prolongs the pleasure of it.</p> + +<p>After travelling some distance through the sort +of country just spoken of, we again emerged upon +a high and open tract of corn, and in a hollow +some way in front saw the neat village of Gournay, +forming a broad street of clean-looking buff +cottages, all, I think, slated. Here we stumbled +upon the first traces of our allies the Prussians, +who bivouacked (at least some of their corps) last +night upon these heights. Of all disgusting objects +in the world, there is perhaps none more +so than the deserted bivouac—the ground everywhere +covered with half-extinguished fires, broken +jugs, &c., bits of rags, shreds of uniforms, straw +trampled in the miry soil, remnants of food of all +sorts, &c. In histories of war and warlike operations, +the pomp and glitter and excitement are +all that present themselves to our mind’s eye, +whilst the bivouac, the battle-field encumbered +with carnage and misery, the hospital with its +heartrending scenes, the plundered cottage, the<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_43"></a>[43]</span> +brutal outrage, and a thousand other disgusting +and harrowing episodes, are carefully slurred over +if touched upon, but more generally never produced. +Up to this moment I have actually not +known with what part of the army we have +been marching. As far as I could see, we have +had an apparently interminable column ahead +and astern of us; now, however, I find we are +with the advance.</p> + +<p>A few paces from the highroad, and in the +midst of the bivouac (at the point from whence +we obtain sight of Gournay) stood a monument +of Republican and Prussian revenge—pitiful +revenge!—such as, having enacted, a schoolboy +would blush at—the mausoleum of some illustrious +lady, whom a long inscription, in the true French +style of mawkish sentiment, told us “had been +lovely in person and elegant in mind—that, soaring +above superstition, she eschewed the folly of +laying her bones in <em>consecrated</em> ground, choosing +rather to lie overshadowed in death by those trees +of which she had been so enamoured (<i lang="fr">passionné</i>) +whilst living,” &c. The monument was a stone +pyramid, standing in a small square space enclosed +by an embankment, and planted round with acacias. +The Prussians had cut down the trees, +nearly levelled the embankment, and made a<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_44"></a>[44]</span> +fruitless attempt at destroying the pyramid itself. +Descending from this eminence by a long but +gradual slope, we entered Gournay after crossing +a little stream tumbling from the heights. This +certainly is the neatest and cleanest place we +have seen in France; pity it is, however, that it +stands so bare—scarcely a bush to be seen. I +don’t know how it happened, but when we reached +Gournay we were ahead of almost everybody. +About the middle of the long village several well-dressed +persons were standing at the door of an +auberge, attentively watching our advance. As +we approached they hurried forward to meet us, +eagerly demanding when the Duke of Wellington +would come up. Now I suspected the report +which we heard yesterday—of Paris having surrendered +to the Prussians, and that Buonaparte +had fled—might be true, and that these people +were deputies sent to avert the wrath of the conqueror; +so, addressing myself to the principal +person, a short, square-built, rather pursy man, +wearing some decoration, I asked if it were so, +and when we might arrive there. My friend, +drawing himself up, and affecting an air of contempt, +exclaimed aloud, “<i lang="fr">Paris se rendre?</i>—<span lang="fr">non, +monsieur, n’y contez pas! il faut passer sur les +corps de 200,000 hommes, avant d’y arriver,</span>” at<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_45"></a>[45]</span> +the same time coming close up, and tapping me +on the knee, he whispered, “<i lang="fr">Mais si votre Duc +de Vellintone traitera, il tient la bonté à ses +pieds, et fera tout ce qui lui plaira</i>.” I thanked +him for the confidence, told him I knew nothing +about the Duke, which made him stare, and rode +on.<a id="FNanchor_2" href="#Footnote_2" class="fnanchor">[2]</a></p> + +<p>Leaving Gournay, the country became more +pleasing, because more wooded, and the fields generally +enclosed by hedges. This style of scenery +continued until it brought us to the valley of the +Oise, by far the most interesting part of France +we had yet seen. How can I describe my feelings +when it first opened out before me? How, +alas! can I describe the scene itself? But to see +and feel it aright one must first have passed over +the monotonous melancholy country extending +almost uninterruptedly from Nivelles to the Oise—must +have had the retina so imbued with the +eternal brown and yellow of that ocean of corn +as to see everything of a yellow or jaundiced hue—then +he may imagine somewhat of the pleasurable +relief with which the eye rested for the first +time on the lovely scenery and refreshing verdure<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_46"></a>[46]</span> +of this charming valley. The ground, descending +by a gradual slope on our side, ran into a vast +succession of most beautiful green meadows, everywhere +adorned with magnificent elms, either standing +detached, or in groups, or in rows. Beyond +these, at about a mile from us, ran the Oise—a +broad stream, sometimes exhibiting its sparkling +surface nearly on a level with the meadows, at +others encased between steep banks of some height. +Immediately above the river rose a bold range of +hills, thickly wooded from the river-banks to their +summit. To the right and left this sort of scenery +continued until further view was shut out by the +overlapping hills. The road by which we travelled +ran straight as a line across the meadows; and at +the point where it appeared to cross the river was +a pretty-looking little town, Pont St Maxence, +partly on one bank, partly on the other. If we +were to be opposed, there I thought is the position +in which the French await us, and tough work +we shall have of it. These ideas occurred to me +as we descended toward the meadows; and as the +corps in advance of us approached the town, I +momentarily expected to see flashes and smoke +issuing from masked batteries in the opposite +woods; and it now struck me for the first time as +a singular circumstance that cavalry should be<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_47"></a>[47]</span> +allowed to advance alone in the face of such a +position, for we had considerably outmarched the +infantry. Of course the Duke knew there would +be no opposition; and yet it was difficult to imagine +what then had become of the French force, +which we knew was retiring before us—of the +200,000 men our friend at Gournay had spoken +of. No opposition was there. Instead of finding +the banks of the Oise garnished with cannon +and bristling with bayonets—instead of broken-up +roads and inundated fields, woods full of riflemen +and the town of grenadiers—instead of all +this, we found a peaceable population in a lovely +country, labourers in their fields and fishermen +on the rivers, whilst flocks and herds pastured in +quiet security on the verdant carpet which overspread +the plain. The little town of Pont St +Maxence looked cheerful and pretty as we approached +it, lying partly on one side of the river, +partly on the other. The wooded hills rose +abruptly over it, the lower part of their slopes +interspersed with pretty villas, standing amongst +vineyards and in gardens, with terraced walks +overhanging the scenery below. After marching +all day in a hot sun, what a feeling of coolness +and enjoyment was conveyed in the appearance +of the large open windows and shady balconies,<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_48"></a>[48]</span> +draperied with clematis and other elegant creepers, +of these sylvan villas! It appears that the bridge +had been broken down last year, and never repaired. +To do this a detachment of the staff corps +was pushed forward either yesterday or early this +morning; but when we reached the end of the +town they had not yet rendered it passable, and +we were ordered to take post in the neighbouring +splendid meadows, where, expecting to remain all +night, we commenced at once establishing ourselves. +Several troops of horse-artillery and +some regiments of cavalry were already up, and +others of all arms were continually arriving. The +horses, unharnessed and watered, were already +feeding, fires were lighted, kettles on, and every +one was congratulating himself on having halted +on so charming a spot. Thus settled, I strayed +into the garden of a neighbouring mill, full of fine +currants and cherries, to which the pretty <i lang="fr">meunière</i> +not only bade me welcome, but even herself +helped me to the best fruit. I was just in the +height of enjoyment of the delicious coolness of +the fruit, and the piquant badinage of my companion, +when suddenly the “boot-and-saddle” +re-echoed through the valley, and a confused hum +of voices arose simultaneously from every bivouac. +With hurried thanks I took leave of my “Maid<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_49"></a>[49]</span> +of the Mill,” and hastened back to my people, expecting +every moment a fire would open upon us +from the opposite woods, having no idea that so +sudden an alert could proceed from any other +cause than the approach of the enemy.</p> + +<p>In a moment our horses were reharnessed, the +nose-bags with the unconsumed part of their feed +attached again to the saddles, officers’ baggage +replaced on the mules, the kettles, with the half-cooked +messes in them, suspended under the carriages, +and all was ready to move. Corps after +corps filed out of the meadows and took the road +to the town; we followed the general movement, +which we now learned was occasioned by the +coming up of the infantry, who were to occupy +the ground we left, whilst the cavalry was to +push on beyond the river as long as daylight +lasted. Still no word of an enemy.</p> + +<p>The broken bridge had been repaired by the +staff corps in so temporary a manner, that the +very first detachment of hussars who passed deranged +it so much as to render it quite unsafe, +and we had to dismount at the entrance of the +town and wait a full hour ere it was again rendered +passable. This bridge, with its right-lined +top, was to me an extraordinarily beautiful piece +of architecture; and there is a charm in this right-line<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_50"></a>[50]</span> +which I could not have imagined. The little +town was all bustle, every auberge crammed with +officers enjoying the luxuries of the French cuisine +and vintage. At last the bridge was reported +safe, and we recommenced our march, regretting +the necessity which prevented our seeing more of +this lovely place. Immediately on crossing, we +turned to the right and pursued a tolerably +good road winding about the foot of the wooded +heights, which on the one hand rose immediately +above us, whilst the silver Oise glided tranquilly +along its course on the other. About a mile, or +perhaps more, from Pont St Maxence, we quitted +the river, and turning up a beautiful ravine, the +slopes of which were partly covered with wood, +partly with the rich foliage of the vineyards, we +pushed into the bosom of the hills, quitting with +regret this sweet river. It is impossible to imagine +anything more beautiful than this evening’s march. +The picturesque scenery of the ravine; the clearness +and serenity of the sky; the warm colouring +thrown over the one side of the ravine by the +declining sun opposed to the deep purply tones +of the other; the various and varied picturesque +military groups reposing on the turf by the way-side, +or winding along amongst the vineyards, altogether +formed a picture, or rather a succession of<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_51"></a>[51]</span> +pictures, perfectly ravishing. Never shall I forget +this evening!</p> + +<p>The sun had set some time when we reached +the village of Verneuil, which was to be the termination +of this day’s journey. Seated in the +bosom of the hills, now veiled in a purply obscurity, +intermingled with that yellowish hazy light +always succeeding a warm sunset, the place +looked beautiful. Several corps had already +halted—some had taken possession of the houses, +barns, &c., others bivouacked amongst the vineyards. +Immediately about the village were large +gardens enclosed by stone walls, and it was some +time before I could make up my mind to invade +these. There was no alternative, however. We +could not remain in the road; the only fields I +saw were covered with rich crops of wheat ready +for the sickle, and even these could not be approached +but through the gardens. The great +gates of one of these were immediately forced +open, and, trampling under foot artichokes, asparagus, +&c., and flowers, we reached the field after +a struggle through the <i lang="fr">eschalots</i> of an intervening +vineyard, which, with the vines and their fruit, +were miserably crushed beneath our gun-wheels +and horses’ feet. I could not but regret this +devastation, though it could not be avoided. The<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_52"></a>[52]</span> +wheat shared the fate of the artichokes, and we +soon established ourselves on it, surrounded as +with a wood by the tall stalks of what was still +standing.</p> + +<p>What a splendid Rembrandt-like picture presented +itself from this spot: the valley buried +in hazy obscurity; the whitened dwellings, just +made out, scattered over the slopes of the hills, +whose bold outlines, one of them crowned by a +ruined castle, cut strongly against the glowing +but gradually fading tints of the clearest sky. In +the farm just by we have found stabling for our +own horses and lodging for some of our people. +But the evening is so fine that I infinitely prefer +the field. Seated on the ground with a lantern +by my side, I scribble my notes in comfort; but +an attempt has just been made to turn us out +even from this humble abode—an officer of hussars +with an order from General Grant to quit +the ground immediately, as he wants it for his +hussars. Good man! he thinks a 9-pounder or +its ammunition waggon as easily moved as a +hussar and his horse. It proved, however, a +mere bugbear—he wanted the house and stables; +and his emissary having full power to treat, the +affair is amicably arranged by our giving up the +stable.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_53"></a>[53]</span></p> + +<p><i>30th.</i>—Fine morning again. Quitted with regret +this lovely country, and climbing the hills +by a steep gravelly road, gained the plateau—covered +with corn as usual, but here diversified +by a pretty sprinkling of trees. Lieutenant +Breton, who slept at the farmhouse last night, +gives a bad account of our hussars, who, not +content with living at free quarters, completely +sacked it this morning before they marched—one +of their officers taking away a beautiful pony in +spite of the old farmer’s entreaties, who begged +with tears in his eyes that it might be spared, +since it was a pet of the whole family. The pony, +however, marched.</p> + +<p>After marching some distance on this plateau +by very good gravelly cross-roads, we rejoined +the chaussée from Pont St Maxence to Senlis, +and soon after began descending towards the +latter place, which is separated from the former +by this ridge of hills, covered in most parts by +the forest of Balatte. Though not to be compared +to Pont St Maxence in point of situation, +yet Senlis stands in a pretty country, well +wooded, surrounded by fine meadows, watered +by the little crystal Nonette. Just beyond the +town, on the Paris side, commences the forest of +Pontarme, a continuation of that of Chantilly.<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_54"></a>[54]</span> +Senlis being the first place of any importance +through which we have passed, was of course +approached with much interest, and this was +heightened by its picturesque appearance: antique +walls, pierced by an arched gateway, the +summit decayed and irregular, fringed with verdure. +Spires, and lofty houses showing themselves +above it, appeared to advantage through +the foliage of the trees, which ran scattering and +in clumps up to the very gate, through which +crowds of peasantry, with little carts and asses +laden with the produce of their farms, were passing +to the market. When we passed in our turn, +we found the street so thronged that it was with +difficulty we could get along, for the market was +held in it. The passage of our column, threading +its way through the crowd of stalls and +baskets of poultry, vegetables, &c., did not seem +to excite any very lively emotion, or to interrupt +the business of the day. Some of the more idle, +or more curious, left their stalls to get a nearer +look at <i lang="fr">les Anglais</i>. Nothing like apprehension +was visible even among the women, and the boys +were as bold and familiar as usual. Here and +there I heard a shout of “<span lang="fr">Vive le Roi!</span>” once or +twice it looked in earnest. To try the sincerity +of this versatile people, I stooped in passing near<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_55"></a>[55]</span> +some of the most vociferous, and in a subdued +tone treated them to “<span lang="fr">Vive l’Empereur!</span>” The +result was always the same—staring first at me, +then at each other, with a sly expression of countenance, +some one of them, slapping me on the +thigh, would reply in the same tone, “<span lang="fr">Mais oui, +monsieur, vive l’Empereur—vive Napoleon! +C’est bon, monsieur, c’est bon—vive l’Empereur!</span>” +seemingly delighted at being able to express their +true sentiments. This might have been mere +fun, certainly, but I thought them in earnest. +I found this the case everywhere. To us they +were never backward in avowing their attachment +to Buonaparte or their hatred of the Bourbons, +of <i lang="fr">Louis le Cochon</i>. The animated scene +in the streets prevented me paying much attention +to the town. The impression I retain of it +is, that it is gloomy and the streets narrow; but +that there are many most respectable-looking +houses, some of them very prettily situated +amongst shrubbery, and particularly one just as +we left the town and crossed the Nonette—the +long open windows of which enabled us to peep +into spacious and handsomely-furnished apartments, +looking most deliciously cool. Just beyond +the town we overtook the rear of the +Prussian baggage, escorted by a corps of lancers,<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_56"></a>[56]</span> +whose simple and serviceable costume pleased me +much: plain blue frocks, buttoned close up to +the throat,<a id="FNanchor_3" href="#Footnote_3" class="fnanchor">[3]</a> and drab trousers or overalls; not +a particle of ornament, nor a superfluous article +about their appointments. I think they are the +most soldier-like looking fellows I have ever seen. +This is our first meeting with any of their army +since the 18th. Continuing our route through +the forest of Pontarme, we soon came out on a +more open but still well-wooded country—the +chaussée constantly bordered and overshadowed +by lofty elms, the cross-roads by apple, pear, and +cherry trees, all now loaded with fruit. Here a +sudden and disagreeable change took place in the +aspect of the towns and villages. We had got +on the route of the Prussian army, which was +everywhere marked by havoc and desolation. +What a contrast! In Senlis, a few miles back, +all was peace, plenty, and confidence,—here traces +of war in its most horrid form, desolation and +desertion. The inhabitants had everywhere +fled, and we found naught but empty houses. +Troops and their usual followers were the<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_57"></a>[57]</span> +only human beings we saw now. The village +of Loures,<a id="FNanchor_4" href="#Footnote_4" class="fnanchor">[4]</a> where we arrived about noon, presented +a horrid picture of devastation. A corps +of Prussians halted there last night, and, excepting +the walls of the houses, have utterly destroyed +it. The doors and windows torn out and consumed +at the bivouac-fire—a similar fate seems +to have befallen furniture of every kind, except +a few chairs, and even sofas, which the soldiers +had reserved for their own use, and left standing +about in the gardens and orchards, or, in some +places, had given a parting kick to, for many had +fallen forward on the embers of the bivouac-fires, +and lay partially consumed. Clothes and household +linen, beds, curtains, and carpets, torn to +rags, or half-burned, lay scattered about in all +directions. The very road was covered with +rags, feathers, fragments of broken furniture, +earthenware, glass, &c. Large chests of drawers, +<i lang="fr">armoires</i>, stood about broken or burned. The +very floors had been pulled up and the walls disfigured<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_58"></a>[58]</span> +in every possible way. It were needless +to add that no human being was to be seen +amidst this desolation. It was with no small +pleasure I found we were not to halt amid this +disgusting scene, as I expected, but to move on +somewhat farther; and with still greater pleasure I +received the order to quit the chaussée for the +village of Chenevière,<a id="FNanchor_5" href="#Footnote_5" class="fnanchor">[5]</a> about a mile to the left. +This removing us out of the Prussian line of march, +we hoped to find things somewhat better. The +village, like most others we have seen, consisted +of a number of farmhouses with their barns and +outbuildings, &c., all standing amidst orchards +and gardens—the whole surrounded by corn, +corn, corn! The place, I should think, has not +been visited by the Prussians, for no pillage or +destruction is to be seen; but it is deserted—not +a soul except our soldiers to be seen. Besides +our brigade of cavalry, two or three other troops +of horse-artillery are here, so that the place is +pretty full; and as we are among the latest +arrivals, we have not got under cover, but are +bivouacking in a very nice orchard, separated +from the village street by some large open sheds; +but as the weather is fine, and probably from<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_59"></a>[59]</span> +habit, my people have <em>littered themselves down</em> +as usual under their guns instead of profiting +by these—this they are enabled to do very comfortably +here, for there is no want of straw. The +people, in their retreat, seem to have taken +little with them, except their animals, so that we +have all kinds of pots and pans, jugs, basins, &c., +<i lang="la">ad libitum</i>. In short, we should be pretty comfortable +but for one want, and that a most important +one. The weather is dreadfully hot, and +we have scarcely any water; there is but one +good well in the place, and that has been surrounded +by a crowd ever since we arrived. It is +impossible to imagine what a gloom this throws +over everything: were it not for the abundance +of ripe cherries growing along the roadsides (not +of the best flavour, but juicy), we must have suffered +to-day terribly from thirst in this burnt-up +plain. The corn (standing) is almost bleached—it +should have been cut long ago.</p> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"></div> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_60"></a>[60]</span></p> + +<h2 class="p4 nobreak" id="CHAPTER_XVII">CHAPTER XVII.</h2> + +<p class="noindent"><i>July 1st.</i>—Tiresome work this—very! Here we +are in Chenevière with little to do but smoke +and sleep, or saunter about the hundred yards +of street, which is all the place can boast of; and +that can hardly be called a street, being formed +of stone enclosures or the backs of barns, &c., the +dwellings being in the yards. A rivulet once +enlivened one end of this street, but now, alas! +when most needed, it is not there—the dry bed +with a slimy pool or two, still unevaporated, are +all that remain to tell the tale of its quondam +existence. How melancholy! I scribble <i lang="fr">pour +passer le temps</i>. Some good, however, results +from this tiresome halt. Marching at or before +daybreak, and not halting until dusk, our shoeing +was in a bad state, which Farrier Price and his +myrmidons are now busy remedying. The forge is +established on the bank of the <i lang="fr">ci-devant</i> rivulet<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_61"></a>[61]</span> +in the rear of our orchard, and under two or three +spreading elms. As it is on the edge also of the +corn, we have been on the eve of consummating +the ruin of the poor fugitive <i lang="fr">habitans</i>, for it has +been once or twice on fire. Another piece of +service the halt has rendered, is the allowing +Hincks with the guns and carriages left at Waterloo +to overtake us. He brings also a remount of +tolerably good horses, though rather fatigued, +since he has made tremendous marches to overtake +us. These arrive most opportunely; for with all +care we have a number of galled backs and +shoulders, though in this respect we are not half +so bad as the cavalry, amongst whole squadrons +of whom there is scarcely a sound horse.</p> + +<p>Another reinforcement has just joined us. +That beautiful but unfortunate regiment the +Cumberland Hussars has been broken up for its +retrograde movement on the 18th ultimo, and +distributed amongst the different corps, to be +employed as forage escorts, &c., for the commissaries. +Being all gentlemen in Hanover, it is +easy to imagine they are rather irate at this +degradation. A corporal and four privates have +joined us. They are all amazingly sulky and snappish +with every one, forgetting that neither I nor +Mr Coates, nor any of our people, have anything<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_62"></a>[62]</span> +to do with their disgrace. They come, however, very +opportunely, since for the last day or two Mr Coates +has been resisted by the peasantry, and only this +morning several shots were fired at him and his +convoy of forage from a wood near which he was +obliged to pass. In general, during the above period, +he has been obliged to help himself from the barns +and granaries, having found every place deserted.</p> + +<p>Lord Edward ordered a sale to-day of the +effects of the slain. This occasioned a little stir +in the village, and passed away an hour or two. +I have purchased a good large cloak, erst the +<ins class="corr" id="tn-62" title="Transcriber’s Note—Original text: 'poperty'"> +property</ins> of poor Colonel Fuller of the 1st Dragoon +Guards. Things sold well in general.</p> + +<p>From the front we heard (I don’t know how) +that the French army are in position at Montmartre, +where they intend to fight us again. If +they are beaten—of which we entertain no doubt—the +fate of Paris is certain; every one fully +expects it will be plundered and burned, and +thus my prediction verified, the campaign ending +with a <i lang="fr">grand embrassement</i>, as I have already +written down! There is some firing just begun +in front. The Prussians commencing, no doubt!</p> + +<p><i>July 2d.</i>—Having no candles last night, could +not write up as usual, but was forced to sit in the +dark smoking our cigars and listening to the<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_63"></a>[63]</span> +incessant firing in front. This morning is beautiful +again, but terribly hot. The latter part of +yesterday evening we passed on the tiptoe of +expectation, for the firing became constantly +heavier and more distinct; that a battle was +fighting could not be mistaken. Lieutenant Bell, +our adjutant, came to tell me my troop was for +the reserve. He also told us that many messages +had passed between the Duke and the French +authorities. Anxiously we gazed across the top +of the waving corn, hoping every moment to see +the messenger bringing orders for our advance. +Twilight began to shorten our ken, and still the +cannonade continued without intermission. At +last an orderly dragoon did come, but he brought +an order for the rocket-troop only to advance, +whilst we were to be saddled and ready to move +at a moment’s notice. The rockets soon moved, +and our bivouac became more gloomy than ever. +Fatigued more from excitement than anything +else, I lay down at a late hour to sleep; but +though I slept I did not rest—feverish dreams of +Paris in flames; of plundering, mutinous soldiers, +and all sorts of horrors; so that I could hardly +believe my eyes and ears when I awoke this +morning at three o’clock and looked round me. +The orchard presented a scene of the most perfect<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_64"></a>[64]</span> +tranquillity; the firing had ceased; my people, +ensconced in the straw, their blankets drawn over +them, lay quietly sleeping under their guns; no +sound broke the silence of this most delicious +summer morning save the jingling of our horses’ +collar-chains, and the sweet songs of birds, with +which the trees were filled. I could scarcely +credit the agitation of yesterday evening—it all +seemed part of my dream. By degrees our village +was all alive; and as the morning advanced, +so has our excitement, for the cannonade in front +has recommenced. Evening approaches again; +the firing has lasted all day without intermission; +and yet here we are, doing nothing, or worse, for +both our horses and ourselves are drying up with +thirst. We cannot stay here much longer, for +our only well is almost exhausted.</p> + +<p><i>July 3d.</i>—Fine and hot morning. Yesterday +morning I awoke and found myself under the +trees of a thick orchard; this morning I am lying +amongst artichokes, and the Lord knows what, +upon a soil somewhat like that one sees about +Hammersmith, and, instead of the warbling of +birds, the air is filled with the hum of a multitude +and the monotonous beating of a watermill +close at hand, which has never ceased its “thump, +thump, thump, thump” all the livelong night,<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_65"></a>[65]</span> +the quartermaster of some regiment having been +placed in it with a detachment to grind corn for +us all. Yesterday evening, near sunset, an order +arrived for all the artillery at Chenevière to +move to the front, but that the cavalry should +remain, which puzzled us a little. Accordingly +we marched forthwith in company with Major +Bull’s troop; but I saw nothing of the others, for +we were all left to march independently. The +order was scrawled out on a scrap of dirty paper +and hardly legible, so that neither Bull nor I +could make it out perfectly, and were consequently +in some doubt as to the exact point to +march upon, although in none about going forward +in the direction of the cannonade. Instead +of returning to the chaussée by the way we came,<a id="FNanchor_6" href="#Footnote_6" class="fnanchor">[6]</a> +as I believe the other troops did (they were not +so quickly ready as we were), Bull and I took a +road which appeared to lead straight to the front. +The country we marched through, though perfectly +flat, was still interesting:—one vast expanse +of golden wheat, divided as it were into +beautiful fields by the crossing of numerous roads, +all bordered by two, or even four rows of most +magnificent elms. A few vineyards, with here<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_66"></a>[66]</span> +and there a village, diversified very agreeably +this scenery. For a time we seemed to approach +the field of battle—the firing became more distinct; +and at times we saw, or thought we saw, +the slate-coloured smoke rising over the tufted +tops of the elms. By-and-by it drew off more +to the right, and insensibly became less intense, +though still kept up with great vigour. Notwithstanding +some little anxiety as to the correctness +of our route, and an impatience to arrive on the +field of action, still I could not be insensible to +the beauty of the noble avenues, umbrageous and +cool, along which we marched. They are at all +times superb, but become exquisite when seen as +we saw them, illumined by the blaze of a cloudless +sunset. At a place called Vauderlan we rejoined +the chaussée, and had marched little beyond +when I observed Bull’s troop, which was ahead, +suddenly come to a halt at a point where another +chaussée came in from the left. What was my +surprise, on riding forward, when Bull told me we +had run in upon the French outposts: and sure +enough, not far in front of us, a long line of +vedettes extended across the fields to a village—Blanc +Menil, with its white houses and white +garden-walls—about a mile on our left; and to +our right were lost behind the little woods with<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_67"></a>[67]</span> +which that part of the country was covered. In +rear of the vedettes, on the chaussée, was an intrenchment, +with an abatis in front of it; beyond +was another village;<a id="FNanchor_7" href="#Footnote_7" class="fnanchor">[7]</a> and to the right the lofty +spires of St Denis, towering above the woods, +showed us that we were nearer that place than +we had expected.</p> + +<p>What was to be done in this dilemma? Two +troops of horse-artillery, totally unsupported, within +musket-shot of the enemy’s lines! During +our march we had not fallen in with a single +corps, and every house was deserted, so that we +had no opportunity of gaining information. I +had relied on Bull’s experience, which, however, +in this instance, was at fault. We both agreed +as to the necessity of a retreat; as also that we +ought to betray no hurry and confusion in so +doing. The French pickets and those within the +intrenchment were evidently watching us very +attentively, but made no move, nor did we for a +short time. Whilst thus hesitating, a few of the +staff corps made their appearance in the fields on +our right, and from them we were rejoiced to +learn our neighbourhood to the main body, which +occupied all the country in that direction; the +staff corps being on the extreme left in the village<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_68"></a>[68]</span> +of Dugny, which, though close at hand, was hid +from us among the trees. This accounted at +once for the inactivity of the enemy; so, reversing, +we followed a miserable cross-road +through some low swampy ground to Dugny, +where the officers of the staff corps succeeded +in deciphering our ticket, and gave us directions +for finding Garges, the place mentioned. +The infantry must have advanced whilst we +halted at Chenevière, for these people appeared +settled in their quarters. The route pointed out +led us for about half a mile between meadows +surrounded with high trees and intermingled +with little thickets; then, after crossing a small +muddy rivulet, we debouched upon more open +ground, and a most interesting scene burst upon +us. On our left, and very near, the Abbey of St +Denis with its elegant spires reared its venerable +form above the intervening thick masses of +foliage, formed by the converging of several +chaussées with their noble bordering of elms, to +a point near the town. Beyond, in the distance, +appeared the heights of Montmartre, with its +telegraph and numerous windmills and chalky +cliffs; a narrow gap, through which was seen +the dome of St Genevieve, separated them from +the heights of Belleville, where a succession of<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_69"></a>[69]</span> +the same sort of white cliffs encouraged the idea +of a gap having here been broken through the +range of heights, leaving Montmartre an isolated +mass. Through this gap we obtained the first +view of Paris, and the heights were everywhere +gay with white buildings, gardens, shrubberies, +&c.</p> + +<p>To our right the ground ascended by a gentle +slope to the village of Garges, whose numerous +villas and summer-houses (<em>kiosks</em>), intermingled +with shrubberies, yet illuminated by the warm +mellow light of the western sky, crowned the +summit; whilst the intervening space presented +one vast bivouac alive with men and animals, +and all busy with preparations for passing the +night. This ground a day or two ago was +covered with the most luxuriant crops of flowers, +fruits, vegetables, and some corn—now all trampled +under foot; in like manner the chaussée +descending from the village had been bordered +with fine trees—now lying prostrate in the +form of an abatis a little to our left. In our +front the dense foliage and rounded summits of +the trees in the Park of Stains cut strongly against +the yellow sky of the west. It was certainly an +animating, interesting scene. Here at length +was assembled the advanced-guard of our victorious<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_70"></a>[70]</span> +army, in full view of the devoted, fickle, +guilty city—of that city which, in the days of +her prosperity, arrogated to herself the empire of +the world; that city which for years—nay, for +our whole life—had been the great centre of our +most intense interest; that city which both historical +and romantic reading had rendered perfectly +classical, and over which the long exclusion +of Englishmen from the Continent had drawn +a veil of mystery, rendering her doubly interesting. +There she lay, as it were, prostrate +at our feet, awaiting in breathless anxiety the +fiat of her conqueror.</p> + +<p>The firing had now become very indistinct, and +ceased to occupy our attention, for here we found +the troops quietly establishing themselves, and +no appearance whatever of any fighting. There, to +be sure, was the intrenchment and abatis similar +to that we had seen near Bourget; and there +were the French vedettes extending across the +plain and those of our Rifles opposite them; but +all remained peaceable and quiet. The troops in +bivouac presented in the twilight many a picturesque +group as we marched along, none more +so than a corps of Brunswick lancers, with their +sombre uniforms and drooping black plumes—the +horses, all saddled, picketed in a line, and in rear<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_71"></a>[71]</span> +of them the lances stuck upright in the ground. +The dark mustachioed visages of these men completed +the colouring of the picture. Amongst +these I met some old acquaintances, who were +lounging at the roadside to see us pass. They +were all elated and eager for the morrow, which +they confidently expected would see Paris delivered +up to the punishment she deserved. Leaving +them, we turned to the right up the treeless +chaussée and soon reached Garges, which we +found principally occupied by our artillery; but +here the scene we passed through greatly cooled +the excitement caused by our march through the +bivouacs. The village, or town I should call it, +is composed of one long and broad street of good +houses—generally, I fancy, the country residences +of the Parisian cockneys. These have all been +gutted and disfigured in the same manner as +at Loures: torn carpets and paper-hangings, +broken furniture and glass, and even pianofortes, +encumbered the streets in all directions. +<ins class="corr" id="tn-71" title="Transcriber’s Note—Original text: 'Inhabiants'"> +Inhabitants</ins> there were none—not a cat remained in the +place; and our soldiers and their horses were the +only living animals to be seen. The sight of this +devastation cast an inexpressible gloom over me; +and I shall never forget the sickening sensation +I experienced whilst traversing the street of<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_72"></a>[72]</span> +Garges in search of some unoccupied garden in +which we might establish ourselves for the night. +All the best houses and gardens were already +occupied; so, after marching through the whole +place, on arriving at the end of it we were obliged +to content ourselves with a great unsheltered +market-garden, close to a muddy sluggish rivulet; +and here we are, Hitchins and I, sitting amongst +potatoes and artichokes. This fine rich soil +does not make the most agreeable parlour-floor. +In short, contrasting our position with that of +our other troops, we think we have a right to +grumble. Every one that I looked in upon in +my search had a house and offices more or less +convenient (shells, to be sure), and the troop-horses +and men who could not be accommodated +under cover found themselves almost equally +well off amongst the <i lang="fr">allées</i>, <i lang="fr">berceaux</i>, and shrubberies +of the gardens. On the contrary, we have +a damp location; no shelter of any kind higher +than an artichoke, or, much the same thing, a +vine. There is a well on the premises, certainly, +but the water is so brackish that it is not drinkable; +and that of the neighbouring rivulet, +naturally foul, is now so impregnated with soap-suds, +from the multitudes of washermen and +washerwomen at work in it, that we are at a loss<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_73"></a>[73]</span> +how to water our horses, for they won’t touch +it. Bell (our adjutant) has just found us out, +and communicated an order to remain harnessed +and ready for an alert, as it is expected the +enemy will attempt something during the night. +The firing which we have heard these two days +has proceeded from the Prussians having attempted +to force the French lines; but they met +with a more determined opposition than they +expected, and kept fighting their way round to +the right to a place called Argenteuil,<a id="FNanchor_8" href="#Footnote_8" class="fnanchor">[8]</a> where, +throwing a bridge over the Seine, they have +crossed that river, and Bell says are at this moment +in possession of St Cloud. So that Paris +is, in a manner, invested.</p> + +<p><i>July 4th.</i>—Last night passed very tranquilly; +and, <i lang="fr">malgré</i> our position, I never enjoyed a +sounder sleep or woke more refreshed. If the +French intended an attack, they thought better of +it, and let us sleep quietly. We have had some +visitors already this morning from some of the +neighbouring bivouacs. They tell us the Prussians +are reported to have lost 15,000 men in the +last three or four days’ fighting, and, what is more<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_74"></a>[74]</span> +interesting, that the Duke, <i lang="fr">en grande tenue</i>, and +followed by a numerous retinue, also in their +smartest uniforms, has just galloped down toward +St Denis—that a rumour of negotiations is afloat, +and not a word about advancing. Pretty mess, +then, we are in. If this be true, we may stay in +this mud-hole for a week yet. Fortunately for us, +Dynely, who occupies a very fine house and garden +a little way up the street, has a most abundant +well of excellent water, to which he has +given my people free access, although he guards +it most jealously from everybody else. My poor +horses suffered last night in getting no drink +after their hot march.</p> + +<p>7 <span class="allsmcap">P.M.</span>—I have already got some little confusion +in my notes from not writing them at once, therefore +must jot down to-day whilst daylight enough +yet remains to do so. <i lang="fr">Imprimis</i>, then: This has +been a completely idle day; very fine, very hot, +and very dusty. Having nothing else to do, I have +amused myself with rambling about the place, +smoking a cigar here and a cigar there, &c. &c. +Bull was more fortunate than we were last night—he +stumbled upon a most excellent bivouac, +which I paid my first visit to this morning, as it +is not far up the street. The place is said to belong +to the Prince of Eckmuhl (Davoust), and<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_75"></a>[75]</span> +must have been a delightful residence; it is now +<i lang="fr">tout à fait abimé</i>. The pleasure-grounds and +gardens, laid out in the English style, are quite +delicious, not only from the lovely shady walks +and prettily-disposed shrubberies, but also from +the splendid terraces, and the views they command +of Paris and the neighbourhood. Bull’s +guns, &c., are packed amongst parterres of the +choicest and rarest flowers: the <i lang="fr">berceaux</i> and +shady walks form excellent stables, and there +his horses are picketed. The officers occupy a +charming <em>kiosk</em>, partly embosomed in wood, but +open to the extensive view over the country toward +Paris. Here I found some of them sleeping +on the floor, whilst the vacant blankets of others +marked the spot they had chosen as their own.</p> + +<p>The house itself, large and magnificent, had +already been completely pillaged. The doors +and windows, where not torn from their frames, +were all flying open; furniture of every kind, +broken to pieces, and partly thrown out into the +garden or courts, and partly littering the rooms; +pier-glasses of immense size shivered to atoms; +the very walls defaced and smeared with every +species of filth. A few of the rooms had escaped +this species of pollution, and, except the destruction +of their furniture, remained in pretty good<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_76"></a>[76]</span> +order. One of these (which I wondered at) was +very handsome, of fine proportions, well lighted, +and the walls exquisitely painted (<em>not stamped</em>), +to represent an Oriental landscape through the +open sides of the room, the roof being supported +on pillars, which stood so strongly forward that, +at the first <i lang="fr">coup d’œil</i>, the illusion was complete. +Unless this were saved by the interposition of some +officer—a man of taste—I much marvel at the +barbarians leaving it untouched; perhaps whilst I +write the destruction is accomplished, for I left +numbers of Dutch, Nassau, and Belgian gentry +wandering about on the hunt for plunder.<a id="FNanchor_9" href="#Footnote_9" class="fnanchor">[9]</a> A +large room adjoining was hung round with very +fine prints from Vernet’s paintings of the French +ports, all in rich frames. These, by some miracle, +had all escaped destruction, though not one article +of furniture was left. My friend Hitchins, an +amateur, thought it a pity they should be left for +destruction, and appropriated the whole of them, +and not only them, but some fine paintings which +he found elsewhere, and cut out of their frames<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_77"></a>[77]</span> +with his penknife. This certainly is not justifiable, +but his argument is a specious one—better +save them at any rate than leave them to be +destroyed by the Belgians. At the back of the +house, on the same floor, had been a handsome +library, but here as elsewhere the genius of destruction +had been busy. The furniture was +broken to pieces, the books pulled from their +shelves, scattered over the floor, many of them +torn to pieces, and many, thrown out of the windows, +lying in heaps on the pavement of the +court below. The foreigners were not the only +busy people in Garges—our own troops were not +idle. Leathes’ servant in this very house has +found a magnificent work in three folio volumes, +splendidly bound—a series of views of the principal +buildings and scenery in France, in the best +style of line-engraving. This appears to have +been considered the greatest treasure in the library, +being the only work attempted to be hidden. +He found it under a cask in the wine-cellar, +where he had no business. In the gardens +and shrubberies the foreign troops were +searching for plunder very systematically. Armed +with watering-pots, they proceeded regularly over +the ground, watering as they went, and whenever +the moisture was quickly absorbed, dug. In this<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_78"></a>[78]</span> +manner I understand they have already found +many valuable things—certes, whilst I was at this +chateau they found a batch of very fine wine +buried under a flower-bed. Our men are not so +indefatigable; they certainly take what they want +when it presents itself, but do not give themselves +much trouble in hunting things up. A party of +Dutch (Protestants) broke into the church this +morning, and after amusing themselves for a time +with dressing themselves in the priests’ garments, +&c., and turning into ridicule the Roman Catholic +ceremonies, finished by breaking to pieces the +altar and destroying everything they found in the +church or vestry. Our allies are by no means an +amiable set, nor very cordial with us. If an English +corps (as Bull’s troop) occupy a chateau and +its grounds, still they leave free ingress and egress +to any others so long as they do not interfere with +them. On the contrary, a single Dutch, Nassau, +or Belge, will sometimes (if a commanding officer) +occupy a whole place himself: sentinels are +placed at every gate, and the place strictly +<em>tabooed</em>. They are a brutal set. The Dutch +appear the best. They are all uncommonly insolent +to us.</p> + +<p><i>July 5th.</i>—Our conjectures as to the business +which took the Duke to St Denis yesterday prove<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_79"></a>[79]</span> +to be correct. It is rumoured this morning that +the preliminaries of peace are signed, and that +the <i>war is at an end</i>! So terminates, then, our +campaign—short, but active, brilliant, and honourable +to all concerned. Another fine but hot +day.</p> + +<p>This morning rode to Gonesse, the headquarters, +through a country no doubt pretty enough +before our arrival, but in which armed men now +occupy the place of vines and fig-trees, &c.—in +short, one continued bivouac. Arnouvilles, through +which I passed, is a pretty village, and, although +the houses were filled with soldiers, did not seem +to have suffered like many other places, especially +that unfortunate Garges. Four short but well-built +and clean streets branch off from a pretty +circus, the area of which is a nice smooth turf +planted round with young elms. The shrubberies +and pleasure-grounds of the Archbishop of —— +(I forget who), all untouched and in good order, +added to the pleasing appearance of the place, +forming, as it did, such a contrast with the desolate +state of the surrounding country. Louis +XVIII. occupies the palace, and his Suisses, +gardes du corps, &c., the village. Gonesse is a +nasty, dirty, gloomy place, and I made little stay +there after getting my English letters. My<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_80"></a>[80]</span> +garden begins already to be <i>home</i>, spite of its <i lang="fr">désagrémens</i>.</p> + +<p><i>July 6th.</i>—All quiet; not a word about moving. +Hitchins and I were both very ill last night +after drinking some coffee. This we had brought +with us, and therefore it was good: the horrible +water here must have caused our illness. Passed +the whole morning in idling about the street. +There is a very pretty house with (apparently) +delicious gardens at the upper end of the town; +but some Dutch colonel has got possession, and +his sentry turned me from the gate rather rudely. +This evening the Doctor and I rode down to +St Denis to see the lions. The French outposts +had been withdrawn and their barricade removed, +so that nothing impeded our progress until we +arrived at the entrance of the town, and had a +glimpse of the long dusky perspective of its principal +street; but here we found an English guard, +whose orders were to permit no one (officer or +soldier) to enter the place. This was somewhat +of a disappointment, but we must see it soon. +Just at the entrance to the town is a very fine +barrack of grey stone, with a spacious parade, +separated from the road by a handsome <i lang="fr">grille</i> or +iron railing. The little muddy rivulet which +runs through Garges and Dugny crosses the road,<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_81"></a>[81]</span> +just by the entrance, into St Denis, and then falls +into the Seine. This feature had been taken advantage +of in the intended military defence: the +bridge removed and a battery constructed with +earth and casks quite across the road. The +approach to St Denis on this side is very fine; +for at a short distance from this battery three +chaussées converge to a point, and a more magnificent +<i lang="fr">coup d’œil</i> cannot be conceived than +that which presents itself to a person placing +himself at the point of union, which at once commands +three splendid avenues of the finest elms +joining overhead and forming so many lofty +arches. From Garges to this point our bivouacs +extend; and the rich harvest of wheat which +had covered the adjacent fields is completely +trodden down. Just by the <i lang="fr">etoile</i> formed by the +meeting of the roads, we found Dick Jones encamped +with his corps (about 500) of Flemish +waggoners with their horses and waggons—a +motley and not unpicturesque crew, with their +blue smock-frocks and <i lang="fr">bonnets de nuit</i>, wooden +shoes, &c., as they sat in groups cooking, or +smoking their short pipes. As it was yet early, +we did not relish returning immediately to Garges +and therefore made a detour to the left through +the vineyards, plantations of artichokes, rose-bushes, &c.<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_82"></a>[82]</span> +It was quite refreshing to find this +part of the country untouched, everything uninjured +and thriving. But there were no vine-dressers, +no inhabitants of any kind—not a soul; field +and houses all alike deserted. Philosophising as we +went on the horrors of war and the beauty of the +scenery we were passing through, which contrasted +so strongly with that about Garges and every +other place where the army halted, we rather unexpectedly +entered a pretty village—that is, it had +been once so; now devastation had visited it, and +the forlorn deserted street was everywhere encumbered +as usual with broken glass and fragments +of furniture, &c.; every window in the place was +destroyed. In front of the church was a small +open space, whence a handsome lodge and <i lang="fr">grille</i> +gave a view of a long avenue terminated by a chateau. +In this place about twenty or thirty hussar +horses were standing linked together under charge +of one hussar. I believe these people were Prussians, +but I can’t say. From this man we learned +that his comrades were at the chateau, and +thither we went, curious to ascertain what they +did there. We were certainly not quite so much +shocked at the scene of ruin and havoc which +presented itself as we went down the avenue as +we should have been a week ago; they are becoming<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_83"></a>[83]</span> +familiar now. The fragments of sofas, +chairs, tables, &c., lying about the grass, bespoke +a richly-furnished house, and the nearer we drew +to the house the thicker became these signs of +vengeance. Large pieces of painted paper torn +from the walls, remnants of superb silk window-curtains, +with their deep rich fringe, hung amongst +the bushes; broken mirrors and costly lustres +covered the ground in such a manner as to render +it difficult to avoid hurting our horses’ feet—the +brilliant drops of these last, scattered amongst the +grass, might, with a little stretch of imagination, +have induced us to believe ourselves traversing +Sinbad’s valley of diamonds; slabs of the rarest +marble, torn from the chimney-pieces, lay shattered +to atoms; even the beds had been ripped +open, and the contents given to the winds, and +conveyed by them to all parts of the park, covering +in some places the ground like newly-fallen +snow. The trees of the avenue were cut and +hacked, and large patches of bark torn off—many +were blackened and scorched by fires made at the +foot of them, with the mahogany furniture for +fuel; the shrubs cut down or torn up by the +roots; the very turf itself turned up or trampled +into mud by the feet of men and horses. Hitchins +and I dismounted at the grand entrance into<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_84"></a>[84]</span> +the house; and, by way of securing our horses, +shut them up in a little room to which a door +was still left, and proceeded to inspect the interior +of this once splendid mansion. Shouts and laughter +resounded through the building. The hussars +were busy completing the work of destruction; +and as we passed the magnificent stairs leading up +from the hall, we narrowly escaped being crushed +under a large mirror which these gentlemen at +that very moment launched over the banisters +above with loud cheers. The ground-floor on the +side fronting the park consisted of a suite of magnificent +rooms, lofty, finely proportioned, and +lighted by a profusion (as we should deem it) of +windows down to the floor. These had been +most luxuriously and richly furnished; now they +were empty, the papering hanging in rags from the +walls, and even the cornices destroyed more or +less. Every kind of abuse of France and the +French was written on the walls. In one room +was the remnant of a grand piano. The sad +reflections awakened by this sight may be more +easily conceived than described, and I turned +from it with a sickening and overwhelming sensation +of disgust, in which I am sure Hitchins fully +participated. The next room seemed to have +been chosen as the place of execution of all the<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_85"></a>[85]</span> +porcelain in the house, which had there been +collected for a grand smash. The handsomest +Sêvre and Dresden vases, tea and dinner services, +formed heaps of fragments all over the floor, and +a large porcelain stove had shared the same +fate. Another room had been lined with mirrors +from the ceiling to the floor; it appeared +these had been made targets of, for many were +the marks of pistol-balls on the walls they had +covered; little remained of these except some +parts of their rich gilt frames. The last room of +the suite had the end farthest from the windows +semicircular, and this end had been fitted up with +benches, <i lang="fr">en amphithéâtre</i>. The whole of this +room was painted to represent the interior of a +forest, and on one side was a pool of water, in +which several naked nymphs were amusing themselves. +The plaster was torn down in large patches, +and the nymphs stabbed all over with bayonets. +The upper floor consisted of bed-rooms, +dressing-rooms, and baths, and exhibited the +same melancholy destruction as those below; +even the leaden lining of the baths, the leaden +water-pipes, &c., were cut to pieces. On inquiring +of one hussar why they so particularly wreaked +their vengeance on this house, he said because +it belonged to Jerome Buonaparte, whom every<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_86"></a>[86]</span> +German detested. Having seen enough here, we +looked into another chateau somewhat smaller, +but which had also been something very fine; it +was precisely in the same state. A very fine +library had been here, but the books had been +thrown out of window; a small pond below had +received multitudes of them, and the rest were +scattered all over the park. In the pond I saw +several beautiful Oriental MSS., and I fished out a +pretty little edition of ‘Seneca,’ which I pocketed. +Disgusted, we returned to our garden, which, +by the by, begins to look rather the worse for +wear, and I hope if we stay any longer we may +be able to get into some house.</p> + +<p><i>July 7th.</i>—Fine hot day. Since early morning +the road from Paris has been crowded with +people of all ages, sexes, and conditions flocking +to Arnouvilles to greet their <em>beloved monarch</em>. +The whole population seems to have turned out, +so continuous is the stream. Berlines, caleches, +equestrians, and pedestrians, flow along without +cessation or diminution of numbers. All are in +their <i lang="fr">habits de Dimanche</i>, and all gay and merry. +It is a perfect holiday, which all seem to enjoy +without alloy. I could scarcely persuade myself +that the gay throng passing before me was the +same that, after being accustomed for a quarter of<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_87"></a>[87]</span> +a century to look upon themselves as invincible, +then twice within a twelvemonth saw themselves +humbled to the dust, and those whom they had +so long been accustomed to trample on in military +possession of their capital, who now were hastening +to do homage to the family twice driven from +their throne—and who, in traversing the bivouac +of their conquerors, saw on all sides the wreck +and ruin of their own houses, fields, and gardens;—yet, +nothing daunted, on they went, laughing, +chatting, and even singing, in the gayest of all +possible moods. For them it was a <i lang="fr">jour de fête</i>, +which they seemed determined to enjoy, no matter +what its origin. The smart dresses and lively +colour contrasted strongly with the dingy clothing, +hardy embrowned visages, and apathetic demeanour +of our soldiery, who lounged at the roadside, +amused by the passing crowd. There were +the members of the Legislative Assembly in their +embroidered uniforms, some in carriages, some on +horseback, others walking and looking dignified; +near them, perhaps, a group of pretty brunettes, +with brilliant black eyes and coquettishly arranged +<i lang="fr"><ins class="corr" id="tn-87" title="Transcriber’s Note—Original text: 'cornetts'"> +cornettes</ins></i>. Then comes a National Guardsman +with his blue and red uniform, with white +breeches and <em>brown-topped boots</em>, strutting along +most consequentially, a handkerchief in hand,<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_88"></a>[88]</span> +which ever and anon he applies to wipe away +the dust from his fair face. High and low, rich +and poor, jostle along together; and not the least +remarkable amongst them is the <i lang="fr">limonadier</i>, in his +light cotton jacket and cocked-hat. On his back +is suspended a tall machine of lustrous tin or +some such metal, picked out with brass. Its +shape is that of a Chinese pagoda, and from the +lower part of it two long slender leaden pipes, +terminating in brass cocks, lead round under his +right arm. <i lang="fr">Chemin faisant</i>, the tumblers which +he carries in his left hand are filled from one or +other cock as may be called for, and handed to his +fellow-travellers. One cock furnishes lemonade, +but of the produce of the other I am ignorant—perhaps +a light beer, for the French seem fond of +such thin drinks, although the constant repetition +of the words “<i lang="fr">Eau de vie</i>” (sometimes “<i lang="fr">Au de vis</i>”) +indicates that they are not altogether averse to +something more stimulating. In the afternoon I +mounted Cossack and joined the throng. There +was no choice but to go at their pace, so completely +filled was the road. The easy, natural, +good-humoured manner in which my companions, +right and left, chatted and laughed with me, left +no room to feel one’s self a foreigner, much less +an enemy. We were all “<em>hail fellow well met</em>.”<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_89"></a>[89]</span> +Occasional openings allowed me from time to time +to push on, and thus change my company. There +was, however, no difference between them in one +respect—I always found my new friends just as +chatty and good-humoured as those left behind.</p> + +<p>At Arnouvilles, still following the stream, I was +swept into the palace gardens, and found myself +in the midst of a most gay <i lang="fr">fête-champêtre</i>. All +had come provided with a little basket, or something +of the sort, and now, seated round a clean +white cloth spread on the grass, numerous parties +were enjoying at once the coolness and fragrance +under the shade of fine trees or thickets of acacias, +laburnums, syringas, &c. &c. Merry laughter, +and an occasional “<span lang="fr">Vive le Roi!</span>” resounded on +all sides, and was from time to time responded +to more loudly by the crowd assembled without, +all anxious to get a sight of their <em>new old</em> King. +I longed to try the same experiment as at Senlis, +but did not dare.<a id="FNanchor_10" href="#Footnote_10" class="fnanchor">[10]</a> Handsome young men of the +Garde-de-Corps, in their classical helmets and +brilliant uniforms, were strolling along the gravel +walk, their countenances radiant with joy. I<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_90"></a>[90]</span> +could not but sympathise with them in thus returning +into the bosom of their country, and again +meeting with those dearest to them after an +absence which, though short, had at its commencement +promised a most hopeless duration. +Indeed, I did witness more than one tender recognition +and affectionate embrace. In the palace +his majesty was holding a levee, which, judging +from the numbers crowding in, must have been +very fatiguing work. Whilst strolling about +amidst this scene of festivity, the sharp notes of +a trumpet recalled me to the palace, where I +found all bustle. It was the <i lang="fr">bout-selle</i> that had +sounded, and the Garde-de-Corps was already +formed on parade to accompany the advance of +the royal cortège. As I wished to see this, and +had as yet not dined, I returned forthwith to +Garges, which a diminution of the throng fortunately +allowed me to do speedily, and having got +my dinner, regained the highroad (which crosses +at the higher end of our village) just as the cortège +and crowd came up. First marched the Garde-de-Corps, +resplendent with steel and silver; then +came the Garde Suisse, about two hundred as +handsome young men as can well be imagined, +and such as I never before saw in one body—tall, +straight, even genteel figures. They owed<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_91"></a>[91]</span> +nothing to their dress, which was shabby in the +extreme—old threadbare frock-coats, once blue, +now of any colour, and sufficiently ragged; trousers +to match, and mean misshapen forage-caps; arms +and accoutrements all wanting—to be sure, some +of them carried sticks; knapsacks of long-haired +goatskins, once white, but now of a reddish-yellow +hue. To these succeeded five or six 4-pounders, +in style and equipment a fitting match for such +soldiers, who, I should have added, marched along +very dejectedly, as if ashamed of their mean appearance. +The guns were drawn by little ragged +farmers’ horses, with their own common harness, +driven by the <i lang="fr">cultivateur</i> himself in his smock-frock, +night-cap, and <i lang="fr">sabots</i>; carriages, deplorably +in want of paint, and further disguised by +Belgic mud still adhering to them, were loaded +(limbers, trails, and all) with women, children, +and bundles; a few old cannoneers, quite in keeping +with all the rest, walked beside the wheels;—the +whole corps more fit to march through Coventry +than to accompany the triumphal entry of +a monarch into his capital, and that eminently +military. The royal carriages, drawn by post-horses, +came next, and in outward appearance +were little better than those of his majesty’s guns. +Louis was in the last carriage, and a dense cloud<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_92"></a>[92]</span> +of pedestrians, with a plentiful admixture of British +officers on horseback, closed the procession. +I accompanied the throng as far as St Denis, +which took up a considerable time, since its movements +were necessarily slow. No complimentary +movement was made by our troops, although his +majesty passed through the midst of us. The +more curious crowded to the roadside, which was +lined by them, but all in their fatigue-jackets, or +even without any—but numbers remained at their +occupations, or sitting smoking at a distance. +The brigade of Highlanders alone cheered as the +King passed through their bivouac. Why was +this? Is there any connection between this and +the protection afforded the Stuarts by the Bourbon +family? Certain it is that the Highlanders +alone cheered! The entrance to St Denis was +almost impossible, such was the multitude choking +up the street, peasantry as well as citizens; +and, as the royal carriages approached, they made +the air ring with their shouts of “<span lang="fr">Vive le Roi!</span>” +“Vivent les Bourbons!” Only a short month ago, +perhaps, these same people, and on this very spot, +had shouted as lustily, “<span lang="fr">Vive l’Empereur!” +“Vive Napoleon!</span>” “<span lang="fr">A bas les Bourbons!</span>” &c. +&c. I never felt prouder of being an Englishman! +From Garges to St Denis I kept close<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_93"></a>[93]</span> +to the royal carriage, watching the countenance of +his majesty in order to detect any emotion. He +betrayed none. It was calm, serious, and unvarying +in general, occasionally illumined by a faint +smile as he returned salutations, but the smile +was evanescent—very—and the features immediately +resumed their calmness. Our troops seemed +to attract considerable interest, particularly the +Highlanders; and to every English officer he paid +most marked attention, returning their salutes +with eagerness and punctilio.</p> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"></div> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_94"></a>[94]</span></p> + +<h2 class="p4 nobreak" id="CHAPTER_XVIII">CHAPTER XVIII.</h2> + +<p class="noindent"><i>July 8th.</i>—Here I am in heaven, as it were—in +<em>Colombes</em>!—in a <em>perfect paradise</em>! More of +that hereafter. I am sitting scribbling at last in a +handsome room, all to myself! But to begin at +the beginning. This morning was (as usual of +late) very fine and very hot. At an early hour +we received orders to hold ourselves in readiness +to march, and understood that we were about to +move on the Loire, where the French army had +mustered in force and refused to acknowledge +the capitulation. Hitchins and I had just found +a very pretty little house vacant near our bivouac, +and little damaged. Into this we proposed getting +to-day, and were rather disappointed when +the order for moving came. It was no small comfort, +however, to escape from Garges and all its +horrors of plundered houses and bad water. The +filth of the bivouac, from such long occupation,<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_95"></a>[95]</span> +was becoming intolerable, and the water, bad as +it was, was failing fast.</p> + +<p>Being sufficiently occupied, I did not notice at +what hour we marched, but it must not have +been late; for, notwithstanding delays, we arrived +here early in the afternoon—the distance +probably six or seven English miles. A column +of cavalry, composed of our brigade and some +other regiments of heavy dragoons, preceded us, +and all together took the road to St Denis. +Arrived at the point of junction of the three +chaussées, instead of marching through the town +we struck off to the right. This was not the road +to the Loire, and we were puzzled. Wherever we +were going the road was beautiful, and the cool +shade of the green vault under which we marched +peculiarly agreeable in so hot a day. All the +country right and left was like a garden; laid out +in little square plots of vegetables or roses, an +astonishing quantity of which flower is grown in +this neighbourhood. Passing through the pretty +village of Epinay on the banks of the Seine, we +soon after came to a singular ridge of chalky +hills separating the road on which we marched +from the river. Here then we quitted the chaussée +for a cross-road skirting those hills on the +side next the river, which we now understood was<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_96"></a>[96]</span> +to be crossed by a pontoon bridge thrown across +a little lower down.</p> + +<p>Quitting the delicious shade of the elms for +the open fields, and these lying on a southern +slope, the heat was intense, and when, getting +between vines and fig-trees (of which we found +whole fields here), the little air there was became +shut out from us, it was quite suffocating. The +ripe, cool, juicy figs with which the trees were +loaded, relieved us, however; the poor fellows +placed to watch these looked on rather piteously, +but we committed no waste nor destruction beyond +eating a few as we went along. These were the +first peasantry we had found in the fields since +passing Senlis. All along our route dead horses +in abundance poisoned the air, and marked the +line of operations of Blucher’s army. The bridge +was at Argenteuil, another pretty village; but on +arriving there we found so many corps to pass +before us, that, having got into a shady spot, we +dismounted and disposed ourselves to rest. The +Seine here appeared to me such another river as +the Thames at Vauxhall Bridge. The ground on +our side sloped rapidly down to it; on the other +the banks were low and rushy, an extent of flat +meadow-land lay beyond, and thence arose gently +swelling hills, covered with shrubberies, villages,<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_97"></a>[97]</span> +villas, &c. The scenery was animated by the +masses of our troops and the novelty of the +pontoon bridge, together with the interest excited +by a number of women and pretty girls +who brought us in abundance (for sale) flowers +and very fine cherries.</p> + +<p>What a change from the sickening, desolated, +deserted country we have left, where everything +breathed war! Suddenly we enter a land of peace, +plenty, and happiness, fields covered with luxuriant +crops of various kinds of vegetables, amongst +which the large, dark-tinted leaves of the artichoke +predominate; vines, figs, and myriads of roses are +extended over the face of the hills; whilst the +meadows beyond the river exhibit a vast tract +of the richest pasture. Innumerable villages, all +full of people; their dwellings comfortable and in +good order. No desertion here; no sign of military +exaction or plundering; no apprehension +betrayed at our approach. We are received as +countrymen might be. The people are confiding +and happy; nor would one imagine that the +blast of war had passed so near and left them +scathless.</p> + +<p>At length our turn to pass arrived, and we crossed +the Seine. It seems there were not pontoons +enough by half for this bridge, consequently what<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_98"></a>[98]</span> +they had were placed at double distance; the +bridge was therefore so weak that the utmost +precaution was necessary in passing it, and +our guns and detachments (the latter dismounted +and leading their horses in file) were obliged +to go over separately; but it was also necessary +to take the three pair of leaders (eight +horses to a gun) off, and let the wheel horses alone +take over the guns. Even then, each pontoon +sank until its gunwale was within two or three +inches of the water as the gun passed over it.</p> + +<p>My tutelary genius, Major M’Donald, met me +in the meadows, and, as we rode along together, +pointed out a village on a rising ground peeping +through the trees as my destination—the village +of Colombes. “Are we to halt there to-night?” +I asked. “Yes, a good many nights;” and then, +for the first time, I learned that our army was +going into cantonments. On entering the village +I found we were not to have it all to ourselves. +Bull’s and M’Donald’s troops were here before +me; but as it is very large, and there are plenty +of good houses, we have all got abundance of +rooms and capital quarters. The place consists +principally of two long streets, with a good many +detached country-houses of citizens; and as the +houses of these streets are generally two or three<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_99"></a>[99]</span> +storeys, it holds us well. We have divided the +village into three districts: Bull has all the upper +end towards Courbevoie; M’Donald has a fine +chateau and park at the bottom of the hill, in +the meadows, with the adjacent parts; I have the +end where the two streets join on the road to +Nanterre—by far the pleasantest.</p> + +<p>The peasantry all remain here quietly; but +whether fled in alarm, or that it is not the fashion +to be seen in the country at this season, I +know not; but, certes, all the villas and better +description of houses are either entirely empty or +only a few servants left in them. Such is the +case with this house I now write in. My men +and horses are all well put up with the cultivateurs, +and the officers are superbly lodged in the +different <i lang="fr">quintas</i>. My own is charming; and no +one can imagine the delight of such a residence, +nor the pleasure I enjoy at again having a place +to myself, and that, too, such a paradise. One +drawback there is; I have been obliged to park +my guns in my own pleasure-grounds—a sad +invasion of my privacy this; but I have made +it as little annoyance as possible by forming the +park close to the further gate, with orders to +the sentry to allow no one to pass beyond; +and as there is a thick shrubbery between that<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_100"></a>[100]</span> +part of the grounds and the house, it is completely +excluded. Another very sad one was the loss of +my poor old dog Bal, who had been my companion +day and night about eleven years, always sleeping +under my bed or by my side. In 1807 he accompanied +us to South America. On arriving at Colombes +he was first missed. I sent Milward back to +Garges, but never heard more of him. <em>My establishment</em> +appears to be small; I have only seen +one old man-servant as yet, though I know there +are more. He is extremely obsequious and attentive +to my wants, apparently somewhat alarmed, +and not quite certain whether I mean to eat him +up alive or not. He gave me an excellent dinner +to-day and delicious wine—so that he hopes his +fate is deferred. A most luxurious-looking bed +tempts me, and as I am somewhat tired, and +more lazy just now, I shall consign myself to it +without delay, and describe my house, &c., to-morrow, +when I shall have had time to examine it +more leisurely.</p> + +<p><i>July 9th.</i>—Hot, beautiful day. A haziness in +the atmosphere—the effect of this great heat—makes +the distance quite <em>dreamy</em>. After so +many bivouacs and cottage-beds, the delicious +sensation with which I took possession of my +voluptuous couch last night is not to be set<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_101"></a>[101]</span> +forth in words, any more than the puzzled astonishment +with which I gazed around on awaking +this morning. It was some time ere I could +clearly recollect where I was—surrounded by +everything rich, beautiful, and luxurious. From +my bed, too, I could see the meadows below, the +silver current of the Seine, and the vine-clad +hills beyond. It was impossible to jump up in +my usual abrupt manner immediately on waking. +I was loath to bring so much pleasure to a conclusion, +convinced as I was that it must be less +keen to-morrow; so I lay on until hunger reminded +me that there were other duties to attend +to—other pleasures to be enjoyed.</p> + +<p>I have now completed the inspection of my +domain, and a right lovely one it is. Let me +try and preserve a <i lang="fr">souvenir</i> of it. Architectural +pretension the house has none—its charm consisting +in the elegant and luxurious fitting-up of +its interior, together with the exterior accessories +by which it is surrounded. A neat (not small) +house of two storeys, with dormitories under the +usual very high roof characterising most French +houses, seated on the very brink of the rather steep +<i lang="fr">coteau</i>, and thus overlooking the meadows, the +Seine, the country beyond; and having in the +foreground, and immediately below it, the fine<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_102"></a>[102]</span> +massed foliage of the noble trees in the park +occupied by Major M’Donald’s troop. From the +village you enter by a <i lang="fr">grande porte cochère</i> into +a neat gravelled courtyard—having the house in +front, offices on the left, and a range of excellent +light airy stables, and one or two coach-houses +on the right. The lower floor of the <i lang="fr">corps de +logis</i> consists of a suite of handsomely-furnished +saloons, in one of which is a billiard-table—a +most delightful solace in such a situation. The +end room, having a large window opening to the +floor upon a flight of steps leading down to a +pretty terrace, is ornamented with some good +statues. The corresponding rooms up-stairs are +all fitted up as bed-rooms. The opposite side of +the house from the court looks upon a charming +garden presenting every variety of parterre and +shrubbery, among which wind cool and shady +walks; whilst the innumerable flowers of the parterres +fill the air with their perfume; and the sparkling +waters of a fountain continually playing under +the windows impart a refreshing coolness and +throw an air of romance over the whole. A broad +terrace, overshadowed by linden-trees and acacias, +runs along the edge of the <i lang="fr">coteau</i> from the +end of the house, as above mentioned, to the +extremity of the grounds, commanding a charming<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_103"></a>[103]</span> +prospect through its whole length, but particularly +from its termination, where, from a +picturesque little <em>kiosk</em> seated on an artificial +tumulus-shaped mound, the eye wanders down +the sweet scenery of the valley until in the extreme +distance it rests on the palace and park of +St Germain-en-Laye. Masses of roses, carnations, +lavender, geraniums, and a multitude of other +flowers, planted in beds along the upper side of +the terrace, contribute their fragrance to enhance +the delight of this lovely walk. Immediately +beneath the terrace, enclosed by a wall covered +with vines, and roofed or coved with large picturesque +tiles, is a spacious kitchen and fruit +garden, covered just now by its luxuriant crop +of all kinds. The more distant part of the +grounds is laid out in lawns of smooth turf, interspersed +with a variety of shrubs and forest-trees, +scattered about singly, in clumps, or sometimes +in close thickets or open groves. A lofty stone +wall encloses three sides of this domain, the terrace +forming a fourth, and a gateway in the +further part permits access to my park without +trespassing on my <em>homestead</em>. The house is elegantly +furnished with articles of the most costly +and luxurious description, and exquisite statues +of white marble decorate the corridors, staircases,<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_104"></a>[104]</span> +and the large saloon before mentioned. The +apartment I have chosen for myself is immediately +over and corresponding to this, and is a +perfect <i lang="fr">bijou</i>; it is fitted up with a taste and +splendour that bespeak the inhabitant at once +voluptuous and refined. Separated from the +other apartments by a small antechamber, it occupies +the whole extremity of the house, overlooking +the Seine, &c. In this end, like the saloon below, +one large window opening to the floor, but into +an iron balcony, commands a most delicious view. +Immediately below is my well-stocked rich-looking +garden; beyond that, yet still, as it were, +under me, the finely-rounded luxuriant masses of +foliage of the stately elms in the park; then +stretch out, like a verdant carpet, the spacious +meadows, the sameness of their level expanse +diversified and rendered interesting by thickets +of underwood, bushes, and occasional clumps of +trees. These are bounded by the silvery waters +of the Seine, above which rises rather abruptly a +curious chain of hills, round-topped, and broken +in places by gypsum cliffs, their slopes clothed +with vineyards, and separated from a similar +isolated hill,<a id="FNanchor_11" href="#Footnote_11" class="fnanchor">[11]</a> evidently a continuation, by a singular<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_105"></a>[105]</span> +gap, through which is seen a rich country +extending far back, and in the extreme distance +the chateau and park of the Montmorenci. The +contrast between the purply haze enveloping +this country, and the more vivid colouring of +the nearer landscape, gives it a dreamy and indescribably +mysterious appearance. At the foot +of the hills on the river-bank, and immediately +opposite my window, the white buildings of Argenteuil, +mingled with foliage, form a pleasing object, +its church-tower decorated by the sacred <i lang="fr">pavillon +blanc</i>, which waves continually from its upper +window. To the left the picturesque little village +of Bezons and its ruined bridge, and beyond a +wide extent of open, not picturesque, though rich +country, covered with wheat, vines, and fig-trees, +extends to St Germain—the sombre trees of +whose park terminates the view in that direction. +The other windows look over the garden, and the +bubbling, sparkling fountain throws its glittering +drops quite up to them, if not actually cooling +the air, at least refreshing to the imagination. +Here the view is bounded by the thick foliage of +the shrubbery; but the contrast between this and<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_106"></a>[106]</span> +the extended view from the balcony only serves +to enhance the one and the other. The balmy fragrance +arising from the parterres, the splashing of +the water, and the cheerful songs of innumerable +birds, with which the trees are filled, make this +a most luscious apartment. But for the interior!—the +walls are nearly covered with large +mirrors, reaching from the floor to the ceiling, +encased in frames richly carved and gilt. The +compartments between these are filled up with +fine engravings or drawings. In a recess (as +the French fashion is) stands a spacious and +sumptuous bed, which may be concealed at pleasure +by curtains of green silk with deep rich +yellow fringe. The bedstead is of mahogany, +highly varnished, sculptured, and enriched with +gilt ornaments, but looks unfinished to an English +eye not yet accustomed to the absence of +posts and curtains. The bed itself the most +luxurious and fastidious must be content with; +the silk counterpane matches the curtains of the +recess; the enormous pillows, encased in the finest +and most delicately white linen, are edged with +rich lace; the sheets are as the pillow-cases, +and in texture rival cambric. An elegant little +table, standing between the two side windows, +serves as a stand for beautiful vases of Sevres<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_107"></a>[107]</span> +porcelain, holding large bouquets of the choicest +productions of the garden; a large round table +of mahogany, covered with oil-cloth and edged +with gilt bronze, occupies the middle of the +floor;—the rest of the furniture, in short, is of +a piece, and the accessories of a bedroom are of +porcelain or fine crystal. A little door beside +the recess opens into a narrow passage leading +round to the rear of the house, where a small +cabinet, lined with mahogany and lighted by an +<i lang="fr">œil de bœuf</i>, leaves no want on the score of conveniences +unsupplied. At the other end of the +room a small closet, fitted as a library, contains +a collection of the most splendid editions +of the best French authors. Here, however, +the voluptuary was conspicuous; the licentiousness +of Voltaire, Louvet, and others, is +innocence itself compared to many works in +this collection. My establishment consists of +the old butler (Monsieur Ferdinand), the gardener, +the cook, and, I believe, a girl as a scrub. +These, with the addition of William and my two +grooms, make up a snug little family. M. Ferdinand +is attentive, and seems solicitous to please. +Cook sent me up yesterday a remarkably nice +dinner; and the gardener brought a fine fresh +bouquet this morning for my vases, which he<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_108"></a>[108]</span> +promises to do daily, also fruit for my dessert. +My larder seems well stocked, and so does +my cellar, for I had a bottle of excellent wine +yesterday; therefore I have every reason to be +satisfied with my good fortune.</p> + +<p>The houses in which my officers lodge are all +either entirely or nearly deserted; so that, having +the only convenience for the purpose, I have +acceded to their request, and allowed our mess +to be established here, though it is hardly fair +upon the proprietor, on whose resources we shall +draw largely; however, I have given orders for +the dinner to be prepared to-day, and M. Ferdinand +has made no scruples.</p> + +<p><i>July 10th.</i>—Splendid morning, but heat excessive. +Sorry to say that at the parade this morning +I found we had no less than thirty horses +with sore backs. This is terrible! but I know +others are worse. Yesterday we dined together, +and a capital dinner and excellent wine we had. +After dinner, the evening being so fine, Hitchins, +Breton, and I, mounted our horses for an exploration. +We first crossed the meadows to the river, +and rode a little way along the banks; at the +ferry we found the ferryman asleep in his boat, +and I could not prevent Breton from launching +him into the stream—how far he went down we<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_109"></a>[109]</span> +have not yet heard. This was childish, certainly. +Quitting the river-bank we made for a high hill, +whence we expected a view of Paris. <i lang="fr">Chemin faisant</i>, +we stumbled on some singular quarries, +immense caverns cut in the soft calcareous stone, +and going farther in than we thought it prudent to +follow. These were in the middle of the fields, in +the low ground between Colombes and Nanterre. +As we enjoy the privilege of travelling over fields, +&c., and are therefore quite independent of roads, +we made straight for the hill, and gained its summit +just as the sun was setting in all the glory +of a fine summer’s evening. We had judged +rightly, for Mont Valerien (so it is called in my +map) commands a most lovely view. Before us +all Paris lay extended as in a plan; we could see +every part of it, and even the far-away country +beyond. Here was no dingy, orange-coloured +smoke, like that which obscures the London +atmosphere, and blackens the country for miles +round. <i lang="fr">Au contraire</i>, the clearness of the Parisian +atmosphere was scarcely deteriorated by the +very light transparent vapour floating over the +city, which rather increased the interest and +beauty of the scene by the softened outlines, and +by the rich purply tint communicated to all parts +of the landscape seen through it. The country immediately<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_110"></a>[110]</span> +around, and the slopes of the hill itself +on which we stood, had the appearance of one +vast and productive garden, being divided into +rectangular patches planted with rose-bushes, +cherry-trees, vines, fig-trees, artichokes and several +other sorts of culinary vegetables, all growing +in the greatest luxuriance, and presenting a +most extraordinary mass of verdure. Amongst all +this, the white walls and red-tiled roofs of several +neat villages and picturesque villas harmonised +charmingly. The foot of the hill towards Paris +was washed by the gently-flowing waters of the +Seine, on whose placid bosom a few boats occasionally +appeared.</p> + +<p>The lively verdure of a long narrow strip of +meadow-land lying on the opposite bank of the +river, and the white walls of several large-windowed +Italian-like houses bordering on them, +contrasted strongly with the sombre tones of the +Bois de Boulogne behind them, amongst whose +thickets several columns of blue smoke, and a +line of white tents seen here and there on the +lawns, attested the presence of some part of our +army. Along the line of the river were the villages +of St Cloud, with its bridge; Suresnes, +Puteaux, and Neuilly, from the end of whose +bridge a most superb avenue of elms stretched<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_111"></a>[111]</span> +away toward the city. Beyond could clearly be +discerned the column of Austerlitz, the dome of +the Pantheon, Nôtre Dame, with its high-pointed +façade, circular window, and two flanking Gothic +towers. A little to our right the elegant dome +of the Invalides, its gilded decorations glittering +in the last rays of the setting sun; the cream-coloured +portico of the Hotel de Bourbon; and +the more deep-toned architecture of the Hotel +des Monnaies and its dome. Still further to the +right the scene was closed by the wooded heights +of Bellevue, which appeared continuous with the +Park of St Cloud. These, wrapped in deep +shadow, formed a mass of sombre verdure, balancing +well the other parts of this brilliant picture. +In the distance beyond the city were the +smiling heights of Belleville, covered with villages +and country-houses, gradually descending into +the vale of the Seine, of whose waters an occasional +glimpse might be caught winding their +tortuous way like silver threads through the rich +plain. To the left the buildings of the city +spread up the steep slopes of Montmartre, the +summit of which presented a formidable appearance +with its lines of fortifications. Windmills and +a telegraph occupied the higher end of its ridge, +whilst that next us terminated in a perpendicular<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_112"></a>[112]</span> +precipice, the white face of which overhung the +tufted groves of Monceaux and Clichy. Still +further to the left extended the plains of St +Denis, yellow with the golden harvest, beyond +which arose the town and abbey. The horizon +on this side was bounded by a low range of blue +hills, of pleasing though not very varied outline. +The balmy softness of the evening air—the varied +noises, softened by distance, arising from the village +below—the sounds of music, mirth, and +revelry coming up more distinctly,—all contributed +to heighten the interest of this charming +panorama. Long did we linger on Mont Valerien, +until the coming shades of night reminded us +that we were strangers to the intricate maze of +vineyards, &c., which we must traverse to regain +Colombes, and we turned our backs on the lovely +scene.</p> + +<p><i>July 13th.</i>—This is our first wet day. Hitchins +and I went to Paris this morning; but the rain +set in so much in earnest that we returned forthwith, +and I have devoted the remainder of the +day to bringing up my leeway; for, between +much occupation and much idleness, I have let +my journal drop astern, and now I hardly know +how to begin what I have to record, which, +though trifling for others, is to me worth its<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_113"></a>[113]</span> +weight in gold—at least will be so years +hence.</p> + +<p><i lang="fr">Imprimis</i>, then, I have discovered my landlord +to be a M. L’Eguillon, who is an old bachelor +(seventy-four years of age), and resides in a +handsome town-house, Rue des Enfans Rouges. +He is said to be very rich, but I cannot find out +whether he has or had any employment under +Government. I find that I can in some measure +repay him for my good living here by sending his +hay, oats, or anything else he may want, under +an escort, as otherwise it would not be allowed to +pass the <i lang="fr">barrière</i>.<a id="FNanchor_12" href="#Footnote_12" class="fnanchor">[12]</a> I suppose Ferdinand has reported +us as good people, for I have received a +most polite and obliging note asking this favour, +and at the same time assuring me that Ferdinand +has orders to pay us every attention. I sent +Bombardier Ross up the other day, as he speaks +French, with a load of hay, and he reported that +nothing could exceed the kindness with which he +was treated, and that the old gentleman’s town +residence is a magnificent one. A very pretty +girl of sixteen (Mademoiselle Ernestine), whom +the servants call his niece, lives with him. There<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_114"></a>[114]</span> +seems a mystery, however, in the matter, for the +gossips of the village declare she is not his niece. +It is Mademoiselle Ernestine’s apartment which I +have taken possession of, it seems.</p> + +<p>Up to the present moment nothing could have +been more delightful than my residence here—so +much so, that it was some time before I could +tear myself away from it to go to Paris, though +only about six English miles distant, and then +with reluctance. To me the country at all times +has so many charms, and the city so few, that it +is never without regret that I exchange the one +for the other. Situated as I am here, during this +fine season, and surrounded by luxuries, it is a +hard task to think of sacrificing even a single +day to the close, disagreeable streets of a large +town. Rinaldo in the gardens of Armida was +not more completely enthralled than I am in this +little paradise. On first awaking in the morning, +my delighted ear is saluted by the melodious +warble of innumerable pretty songsters in the +shrubbery, which comes accompanied by the soft +murmurs and splash of the fountain. My toilette +occupies a much longer time here than it ever did +anywhere else, so great is the luxury of wandering +about in a dressing-gown: finished, however, +it must be, and then I descend to my stable, talk<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_115"></a>[115]</span> +nonsense to my horses, examine poor +<ins class="corr" id="tn-115" title="Transcriber’s Note—Original text: 'Cossac’s'"> +Cossack’s</ins> wounds, which were not improved by our lengthened +march, and then stroll into my garden, +cool my palate with some of the delicious fruit, +take a turn or two on the terrace under the linden-trees, +look at St Germain, think of the unfortunate +James who died there in exile, then at Argenteuil, +where Heloise pined for her mutilated +lover, return to my penetralia and find that William +has arranged a delicious little breakfast. A +parade of the troop in the village street follows; a +visit to the quarters, stables, &c.; an inspection of +carriages; concluding with a little peroration +with Farrier Price and Wheeler Rockliff. All this +occupies the first part of the morning; the remainder +is passed in lounging about the village, visiting +the other troops, or wandering about my own +delightful grounds; sometimes a game at billiards, +sometimes a little scribbling. So pass +my mornings. Five o’clock usually finds us all +assembled in the <i lang="fr">salle de compagnie</i> awaiting +M. Ferdinand’s annunciation, “<span lang="fr">On vient de servir, +M. le Commandant,</span>” throwing open the <i lang="fr">battants</i> +with a bow and an air worthy a groom of the +chambers. Dinner consists of a <i lang="fr">potage</i> and several +other dishes, always excellent; it is followed by +a dessert of fine fruit from my <em>own</em> garden. Our<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_116"></a>[116]</span> +wines, too, are not only of the best quality, but +we have an astonishing variety—in short, we live +like fighting-cocks. After passing a reasonable +time at table, and drinking a reasonable allowance +of M. Eguillon’s wine, we break up for the +evening. Some resort to the billiard-room, some +to the neighbouring troops, and I either take a +ride or saunter about my terrace as I did in the +avenue at Strytem, smoking some of the few +remaining excellent cigars I have brought all the +way from Brussels—doubly precious now, since +I find there are none such to be got in Paris. +Cigars are, I think, a government monopoly here +as in Spain—at least there is some mystery which +I don’t understand further than that the French +Government has been concerned in forcing the +lieges to smoke bad cigars or none at all. Only +two kinds are procurable here: the one, a little +black thing made of the commonest tobacco, they +call Dutch, <i lang="fr">des cigars Hollandais</i>; the other, a +large cigar of very common bad tobacco also, has +a wheaten straw stuck into it to suck the smoke +through; and this, besides the villanous taste of +the tobacco, burns your palate horribly.</p> + +<p>The other evening I had retired after dinner to +the terrace to enjoy, as usual, the charms of a fine +sky and fine landscape. Twilight crept gradually<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_117"></a>[117]</span> +over the valley, and, by obscuring the distant parts, +allowed play to imagination, and gave additional +interest to the scenery. Light airs from time to +time sighed amongst the overhanging foliage; +the joyous laugh of the villagers comes softened +on the breeze, united with the monotonous splash +of the fountain. I had seated myself in the little +<em>kiosk</em> at the end of the terrace; the smoke of my +cigar arose lazily in the air; my eyes were fixed +on the silver Seine, and my mind travelling over +again the events of the last three or four weeks, +drawing comparisons between the feverish excitement +prevailing through the former but greater +part of that time, and the delicious tranquillity +of the present, when suddenly the grating sound +of angry voices wounded my ear and dissipated +my reverie. I listened; the speakers appeared +to be at our park, or near it. There were English +voices and foreign of some sort. A quarrel +between my men and the natives, no doubt. +But how came the latter in the grounds? The +voices became louder and fiercer; there was a +rattling of sabres, too. Good heavens! are the +French renewing the Sicilian Vespers? Whilst +asking myself this question, I was already hurrying +along the tortuous path leading to that part +of the grounds, and soon came upon the scene of<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_118"></a>[118]</span> +action. Here I found Quartermaster Hall and +several gunners struggling with our hussars of +Brunswick, whose horses, bridled and saddled, +seemed the objects of contention from the way in +which they were alternately seized by one or the +other and most unceremoniously dragged about +by both.</p> + +<p>High words and threatening gestures, pulling +and scuffling, seemed the order of the day, but no +blows were interchanged. Both parties seemed +equally enraged, but neither understood the other,—for +one swore in German, the other in English; +the gestures, however, spoke a sort of universal +language which all parties comprehended perfectly. +At the moment of my arrival one of the +hussars, having rescued his horse from the grip of +his opponent, had raised his foot to the stirrup, +and was in the act of mounting, when an athletic +gunner, seizing him by the waist, swung him to +some distance, rolling on the turf. The fellow, +springing up again, had half drawn his sabre as +I emerged from the shrubbery with an authoritative +“<em>Halt da!</em>” which was instantly obeyed by +all; whilst old Hall, the moment he saw me, +cried, “They are off, sir—they are going off.” +The hint was sufficient. I despatched a gunner +with orders to the guard to shut the iron gates<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_119"></a>[119]</span> +and allow none to pass, then proceeded to investigate +the origin of this quarrel. I had placed +these people in the grounds from the first, that +they might be more under surveillance. They +have a tent for themselves, and their horses are +picketed near our guns. This I have found necessary, +from the sulky mutinous spirit they have +always evinced since the first day of joining us. +They have always been a source of considerable +worry to me, and have been getting worse lately. +According to their own account, they are all <em>volunteers</em> +and <em>gentlemen</em>; therefore they feel very +severely the degradation of their present position, +particularly being put under a vile commissary, +whom they affect to treat with the utmost contempt. +Their present complaint was about their +bread, which they said “was not even fit for +<em>common soldiers</em>;” and they accused Mr Coates +of having purposely given them this bread as an +insult. In their rage they had saddled their +horses with the intention of returning home, or +the Lord knows where, when Hall interfered, and +the scuffle took place. The corporal (a fine young +man) was particularly indignant, and held forth +most vehemently on what was due to a gentleman, +partly in German, partly in French. Hall’s +insolence he spoke of with great bitterness, giving<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_120"></a>[120]</span> +me to understand that he expected my men +should pay him somewhat of the same deference +as to their own officers. My answer to all this +was short: “The bread is of the same quality as +that served out to our own men; therefore, if the +<em>gentlemen</em> disliked it, they might leave it. As to +their rank in civil society, I know nothing about +it; they were put under my orders as any other +soldiers, and as such should do their duty.” Two +or three of the most refractory I made prisoners +of, and if they still remained discontented, they +at least remained quiet. This disturbance, however, +spoilt my evening; so, having consumed +my cigar whilst lecturing the gentlemen, I retired +to my room and spent an hour or two over Voltaire’s +‘Philosophical Dictionary.’</p> + +<p>Notwithstanding the raptures in which our +people spoke of Paris, which some of them visited +the very first evening of our coming here, yet it +was only a day or two ago that I could tear myself +from the country and go thither. The village +and <i lang="fr">les villageois</i> had not yet lost the freshness +of novelty. Strolling about the street gossiping +with the people has been a source of infinite +amusement to me, and I have been much interested +in observing their peculiar manners and +habits. The harvest, which has just commenced,<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_121"></a>[121]</span> +causes considerable stir in the village, as all the +produce of the fields is brought to be stored in +their granaries here. The villages round Paris +have anything but a rural aspect: houses of +stone, roofed either with tiles or slates, from two +to three and even four storeys high; large windows, +like those of town houses; the attics are their +granaries, hay-lofts, &c., and a window or door, +furnished with a crane and tackle similar to those +of our merchants’ stores, furnishes the means of +hoisting in the sheaves, bundles of hay, &c. The +consequence of this is, that our streets are all in +a bustle—loaded carts continually arriving from +the fields, and drawing up under the entrance-window +of their respective houses. Bundles and +sheaves are mounting into the air, and various +gossiping groups are formed below. The peasantry +in this neighbourhood are almost all of +them proprietors of the lands they cultivate. As +with us, the law obliges every man to put his +name, &c., on his cart; so we see continually +“<span lang="fr">Jacques Bonnemain, cultivateur,</span>” “<span lang="fr">Jean le +Mery, propriétaire,</span>” &c. The figures composing +these street-groups are sturdy well-made men; +much more active and springy than our clowns, +although sufficiently rustic. Their costume, too, +widely differs from everything we are accustomed<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_122"></a>[122]</span> +to associate with rusticity. The bronzed visage, +surrounded by its setting of black locks, surmounted +by the <i lang="fr">bonnet de nuit</i>, usually white, or +having once been so, round jackets of blue-striped +cotton stuff, and trousers of the same—bare feet, +thrust into a pair of clumsy <i lang="fr">sabots</i>, complete the +costume. Amongst the young men and boys +I have remarked a much greater proportion of +handsome intelligent faces than one usually sees +in any English village; our rustics are generally +coarse-featured, and have a most unintellectual +expression of face. The French peasant not only +has the advantage in point of person and carriage, +but infinitely so in his address. The women +partake of the labours of the field, and enter +largely into the composition of our village groups. +Their general costume is not unpicturesque. They +are always without gowns, the exposed stays (not +always very clean) sometimes laced up, sometimes +quite loose and open; blue and white, or +pink-striped petticoats; neck partially covered +by a coloured handkerchief (<i lang="fr">fichu</i><a id="FNanchor_13" href="#Footnote_13" class="fnanchor">[13]</a>); the head by +another, gracefully turned round it, something +in the shape of a turban;<a id="FNanchor_14" href="#Footnote_14" class="fnanchor">[14]</a> large gold or silver +hoops in the ears, and a small cross of the same<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_123"></a>[123]</span> +suspended by a black ribbon from the neck; +stockings of grey or blue thread, or bare legs; +large <i lang="fr">sabots</i>, the insteps frequently garnished with +a strip of rabbit-skin. Such are our village belles. +At a superficial glance one does not see amongst +them such gradations from youth to age as among +our own women. All are either old or young, +hideously ugly, or pretty, or very pretty. About +the age of puberty (which seems to be earlier +than with us), they become masculine and coarse, +though still handsome. But about thirty (or +earlier, if they have children) they lose all pretensions +to good looks, and immediately assume +the appearance of old age—wrinkled, skinny, with +sunken cheeks, hollow eyes—and such necks! +Like the men, these women are vastly superior +to our female peasantry in carriage of person and +in manners. The former is invariably erect and +commanding, giving to the ugliest old woman +an air of dignity never or very rarely to be +met with among our working classes, and not +always amongst our ladies. Some of the young +ones, well made and tall, with their firm determined +step, are really majestic creatures.</p> + +<p>The ordinary diet of these people seems little calculated +to enable them to go through the portion +of hard labour that falls to their lot. Bread, black,<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_124"></a>[124]</span> +coarse, dry, and diabolically sour, a bit of hard +tasteless cheese, compose the usual breakfast and +dinner, with the occasional addition of haricots, or +some other vegetables; for supper, broth (<i lang="fr">potage +aux herbes</i>), in which a bit of lard or some kind +of grease is melted to give it richness and perhaps +flavour. Their beverage is a poor sort of <i lang="fr">vin du +pays</i>, very sour, and very inferior to the sound +rough cider used in our apple-counties, Hereford +and Devon. In the <i lang="fr">cabarets</i> beer is to be had +of a pleasant quality, although not strong. The +<i lang="fr">bonne double bierre de Mars</i> is of a superior +caste, and, when bottled (as it is sold), a refreshing, +agreeable drink in hot weather.</p> + +<p>March is to their brewers what October is to +ours. This <i lang="fr">bierre de Mars</i> (from the month, I +presume) one would suppose exclusively military, +from the numerous coloured prints stuck on the +window-shutters of most <i lang="fr">cabarets</i>, representing +officers and soldiers in the acts of drawing, pouring +out, or drinking this favourite tipple. The +most common of these represents two officers in +<i lang="fr">grande tenue</i>, plumed hats, swords by their +sides, spurs on the heel, &c., seated at a small +round table. Each holds in the right hand an +uncorked bottle, in the left a tumbler, the <i lang="fr">bierre</i> +rising in a jet from the bottles, forming two intersecting<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_125"></a>[125]</span> +arches, terminating precisely in the opposite +and apposite tumblers. The shutters frequently +bear both pictorial and scriptorial annunciations +not a little amusing. I have seen numbers +on our march, but thought no more of them; and +it was only the other day, at Courbevoie, that +“<i lang="fr">audevie à vandre</i>” upon a shutter gave rise to +the idea of making a collection of them. The +universal “<i lang="fr">Ici on loge à pied et à cheval</i>” is parallel +to our entertainment for man and horse.</p> + +<p>I have before noticed that on arriving here we +found all the gentry fled. That was not quite +the truth. A few days since I discovered that a +certain handsome house, in Bull’s quarter of the +village, is still inhabited by the proprietor, an old +lady of seventy (la Marquise de * * *), very partial +to, because somehow connected with, the +English, and therefore remaining at home in full +confidence of good treatment. She has judged +rightly; not a soul has trespassed upon her except +as visitors, of which she is very proud, and +holds a sort of daily levee, which we sometimes +find a convenient lounge. Brought up in the +Court of Louis XVI., Madame la Marquise is a +strict observer of all the etiquette of the old <i lang="fr">régime</i>. +A light active figure, and a natural (or +perhaps assumed) sprightliness of manner, added<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_126"></a>[126]</span> +to a very juvenile costume, give her at a little +distance quite the appearance of a girl. A nearer +approach, however, spite of rouge, &c., most liberally +applied, betrays the <i lang="fr">septuagénaire</i>. At my +first visit I found this extraordinary old woman +alone, dressed, and evidently expecting visitors. +I introduced myself, and was received with almost +affectionate kindness. Our <i lang="fr">tête-à-tête</i> was a long +one, for she would make me listen to the whole +of her family history, and how one of her ancestors, +having married some English lady of rank, +she considers herself <i lang="fr">à moitié Anglaise</i>. She +was not content with telling me her history, but +showed me her whole house and gardens (both +very handsome and in excellent order), even her +own boudoir, <i lang="fr">chambre à coucher</i>, &c. On taking +leave she exacted a promise of being a good neighbour, +which I have endeavoured to perform by +devoting to her a small portion of my leisure time. +It is to her that I am obliged for breaking the +spell that bound me to the village, and at last +<em>visiting Paris</em>. The other morning she expressed +such unfeigned astonishment at my want of curiosity +that I resolved to see the place forthwith, if +only for a few minutes. Accordingly, after dinner +I mounted Nelly, and set off by what I guessed +must be the road thither. The day had been exceedingly<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_127"></a>[127]</span> +hot, the roads were very dusty, and, half +irresolute, I rode slowly over the uninteresting +parched-up plain between Colombes and Courbevoie, +made disgusting, moreover, by the trodden-down +corn and carcasses of horses, &c., which +marked the old bivouacs. The handsome cavalry +barracks for the Imperial Guard at the entrance +of Courbevoie detained me a moment, and then +I descended the winding shabby street, and came +suddenly on the beautiful Pont de Neuilly. The +lovely scenery here, above and below the bridge, +and the magnificent avenue beyond it, put an end +to my Paris trip. For the life of me I could not +resolve to exchange such scenery, and pass such +an evening in the streets of a city, however fine +they might be. This bridge, and the one at St +Maxence, are elegant things, certainly; but the +straight line, which is one of their great beauties, +must not be claimed by the architects as an original +idea. The Roman bridges at Alcantra and +elsewhere no doubt have been their prototypes. I +found here defences similar to those at St Denis—the +road to the bridge broken up and obstructed +by carts, and a sort of abatis; this was commanded +by a 2-gun battery, built across the road +on the Paris side, secured at each flank by a +stockade. These mementos of war were unpleasing<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_128"></a>[128]</span> +objects certainly, yet they could not divert +the mind from the sweet scenery on every side. +The Seine came gliding tranquilly along through +green meadows, fringed with willows, bordered +on each side by villages and villas; several verdant +islands, also, decorated with large umbrageous +willows, divided its stream into different +channels, on which floated boats of various descriptions—some +plain and of coarse construction, +laden with goods; others of a more elegant construction, +gaily painted, and filled with joyous +light-hearted people, already forgetful of the +downfall of their idolised Emperor—of their national +glory tarnished—even that, in these their +moments of mirth and recreation, they were in +the presence of their conquerors—of their ancient +enemy. British soldiers stood on the river-bank +as they passed along—British soldiers occupied the +barracks of the late Imperial Guard, under which +lay their course, and yet the laugh was as joyous, +the countenances as bright, as they could have +been after the bulletins of Austerlitz or Jena. +Not so, I ween, on the slimy Thames had England +fallen as low, were London the cantonment of +French legions.</p> + +<p>A most superb avenue is the road which gradually +ascends from the Pont de Neuilly to the<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_129"></a>[129]</span> +Barrière de l’Etoile, the unfinished works of +which terminate this unrivalled perspective. I +forget whether there are two or four rows of elms +on either side—and such trees! This splendid +road was alive with carriages, equestrians, and pedestrians, +as I rode up it to the <i lang="fr">barrière</i>; and here +another magnificent scene burst upon me. Hence +the road descended gradually towards the city, +handsome houses, and even rows of houses, intermingling +with the masses of foliage on either +side; and far away, in hazy, dreamy distance, +this avenue was terminated by the heavy but +imposing mass of the Tuileries, with the spotless +banner of ancient France waving gracefully in +the evening breeze from the elevated central mass. +I returned from this interesting excursion just as +the fading tints of the western sky began to sober +down into the greys of twilight. My curiosity +was excited by this peep of Paris, and the next +morning actually found me riding slowly down +from the Barrière de l’Etoile towards the Place +Louis Quinze, delighted with the novelty of the +scene by which I was surrounded. On either +side of the road, among the noble trees, were +handsome houses, the large open windows and +balconies of which were filled with green shrubs +and brilliant flowers. Beyond these I came to a<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_130"></a>[130]</span> +wide open space everywhere covered with trees, +but poor ones compared to the giants forming the +avenue. Under these a regiment of English +hussars, and a band of Cossacks, were in bivouac +together—a novel and amusing scene. The +soldiers and their horses were objects of curiosity +(English as well as Cossacks) to a crowd of idle +Parisians who stood by, not in silent contemplation +of the <em>strange animals</em>, but chattering like a +pack of monkeys, and explaining what they saw +to those of their neighbours less gifted with the +powers of conception. Carriages, too, as they +passed, and groups of young men on horseback +(looking half-military, half-bourgeois, from their +mustachioed upper lips, erect carriage, holstered +saddles, and cavalry bridles), paused to contemplate +the foreign bivouac. If these last were +amused with my countrymen and their friends, +I was no less so with them. There was something +irresistibly comic in their self-satisfied air +as they paraded their managed cats of steeds +before the fair ones in the carriages, and the +affected, contemptuous looks they cast on the +hardy fellows who had so recently chased their +own braves (perhaps some of themselves) from +Brussels to Paris. The equipages, too, were +worthy of notice: they reminded me of Ireland—“<em>Nothing<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_131"></a>[131]</span> +of a piece</em>.” Handsome carriage, +well-dressed servants, dog-horses and shabby +harness; or shabby servant and beautiful horse, +new harness, and an old jarvey of a carriage—the +fair dames within invariably smart. No comparison +can be instituted between French and +English equipages. The neatness and perfect +completeness, beauty, finish, lightness, and goodness—all +are on the side of the latter. Their +cabriolet, however, is something <i lang="la">sui generis</i>, +and worthy of admiration. They are generally +drawn by one horse, sometimes a postilion on +a second horse attached as an outrigger. It +was one of these that captivated my fancy near +the <i lang="fr">barrière</i>. Such a turn-out! The carriage +was just like other cabriolets, only a very smart +one; and here I must acknowledge an exception +to what I have just written—the whole <em>was</em> of a +piece—good, smart, and respectable; but, <i lang="fr">mon +Dieu!</i> what a spectacle! The heavy harness under +which the horses were almost buried was covered +with plated buckles, bosses, &c. On the outrigger +sat a fine, well-made fellow, six feet if an inch, +erect as a grenadier. On his head an enormous +cocked-hat, bound with broad silver lace and +loop, stuck square on; a blue coat, collar, skirts, +and sleeves, all covered with silver lace; the clothing<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_132"></a>[132]</span> +of his nether limbs hid in a tremendous pair +of boots, sticking six inches above his slightly-bent +knee, and armed with a most formidable +pair of spurs; like all the rest of them, riding +exceedingly long, consequently bumping along +at a moderate trot with most imperturbable +gravity. How I should have liked to see this +equipage trotting down St James’s Street! A +passer-by, of whom I asked the question, informed +me that this was Les Champs Elysées. I +could hardly credit him. What! the far-famed, +much-vaunted, much-bescribbled Champs Elysées! +Impossible!—or, if true, what a disappointment! +I hardly know what sort of an idea I had formed +of the Champs Elysées—certainly nothing like +the reality. No turf, no verdure, in short, no +fields, but a gravelly dusty space, surrounded +nearly by buildings, and barely shaded from the +scorching sun by a parcel of miserable-looking +half-grown trees, sufficiently powdered to conceal +whatever verdure they might have. If ever the +grass had grown here, every trace was now obliterated. +Bivouacs are sadly destructive of nature’s +beauties. “Thus, then,” said I, “here is one +illusion dissipated. Let us see farther, perhaps +all will equally vanish in smoke and dust.” A +certain feeling of exultation, a tumultuous rising<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_133"></a>[133]</span> +of spirits came over me as I rode into the Place +Louis Quinze, and pulling up, regardless of the +moving throng of people, contemplated at my +leisure the scene around me. I have now got a +map and a ‘<span lang="fr">Guide de Paris,</span>’ both of which I have +since had opportunities of elucidating or confirming +by inquiry and <i lang="la">vivâ voce</i> evidence. Then, I +knew not that I stood precisely on the same spot +where the martyrdom of Louis Seize and the +fair Marie Antoinette had been consummated. I +knew that the walls in front of me as I entered +the Place from the Champs Elysées were the +ramparts of the Tuileries; that the bowery trees +which overtopped them were in the gardens; and +that the immense pile seen again over these was +the chateau itself: but I did not know that the +magnificent ranges of buildings, with their rich +sculptures and Corinthian colonnades on my left, +were those of the Garde Meuble; nor that the fine +but short perspective by which they were separated +was the Rue de la Concorde; nor that the +handsome bridge on my right was the Pont de la +Concorde, and the imposing portico which reared +its lofty Corinthian columns beyond was the +entrance to the Salle des Representatifs. Although +ignorant of the names and destinations of +the noble objects, I could not but be sensible of<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_134"></a>[134]</span> +their effect individually and as an <i lang="fr">ensemble</i>; and +I did acknowledge that nothing could be more +imposing, more strikingly magnificent, than this +entrance to the city of Paris.</p> + +<p>Every faculty absorbed in the contemplation +of the various and varied novelties around me, I +progressed mechanically, and without knowing or +seeking to know where I was going, found my +way down the Rue de Rivoli, and so into the +Place Vendome, where the column of Austerlitz, +by its beautiful workmanship, and the historical +recollections associated with it, arrested my course +for some time. Strange, however, that a nation +like France should borrow from Rome—that she +could not produce an original idea to commemorate +a great national triumph. It is nevertheless +a superb monument; and at least the idea of using +the guns taken in the battle to decorate the city—was +not <em>that</em> an original idea? The Place +itself I do not like. Its houses are certainly fine, +and uniformly built, but the style is heavy, the +material dismal, and the want of <i lang="fr">trottoirs</i> gives +the whole the air of a “mews.” In approaching +the Place Vendome by the Rue Castiglione, +I crossed the Rue St Honoré, the busy stream +flowing along which would have induced me +to follow it, but the column in front drew me<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_135"></a>[135]</span> +forward like a magnet. The streets of Paris are +infinitely more amusing than those of London, +inasmuch as they everywhere teem with animation, +from the pavements to the roofs. Nowhere +do we meet such long, tiresome, dull avenues of +brick and mortar as Baker Street, Gore Street, +Gloucester Place, &c. In London, “home’s +home,” &c.—and when people are at home, they +like quietude and retirement. In Paris <i lang="fr">au contraire</i>, +people cannot exist in quietude, and solitude +is abominated. To see and be seen seems +the universal maxim. The varied forms of the +houses, too, and the still more varied styles of +ornament, render the streets much more picturesque +and interesting in Paris than in London. +There is something very picturesque and interesting, +I think, in the immense long perspectives +between the tall houses of such streets as the Rue +de Richelieu, into which I was led by the Rue +Neuve des Petits Champs. This is the Bond +Street of Paris, and is a most amusing one. Here +every thing savoured of the fashionable world. +Shops of a more respectable description richly +decorated; goods of the most costly kind arranged +for display with a very superior degree +of taste and even elegance. Numerous equipages +with liveried attendants driving about or waiting<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_136"></a>[136]</span> +at the doors. Numberless loungers sauntering +up and down, or philandering in the shops, a +striking feature among these the foreign officers, +particularly English, all indicating the Rue de +Richelieu as the focus of fashionable resort. After +all, however, there is something about this as well +as all the other streets of Paris, with a few exceptions—such +as the Rue de Rivoli, de la Concorde, +de la Paix, and some part of the Boulevard—that +displeases an Englishman’s eye and nose. The +buildings in general have a worn and shabby +appearance; their great height, and the narrowness +of the thoroughfare, throws a degree of darkness +and gloom over everything; but, above all, +the olfactory nerves are continually offended by a +certain pervading odour, difficult to be accounted +for, since it is everywhere the same—not arising +from any visible cause, but omnipresent and unvarying. +In the Rue de Richelieu not all the +fragrant odours issuing from that <i lang="fr">magazin</i> of +odours, the Cloche d’Or, and fifty others, were +sufficient to overpower this most unsavoury of +smells. It may be said to characterise Paris—to +stamp it as the sulphureous city. My attention +was attracted by a broad avenue crossing one end +of it, and along which flowed a dense and continuous +stream of passengers and carriages. I<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_137"></a>[137]</span> +directed my horse’s head thither, and in a few +minutes found myself in the Boulevard des Italiens. +The excitement and interest of that moment +will not soon be forgotten. The breadth of the +street, the mixture of trees and houses, the number +and variety of the immense multitude moving on, +all contributed for a moment to electrify me, and +I should have forgotten Colombes and the lateness +of the hour had not Hitchins at that moment +rode up and asked me if I was not going home +to dinner. Colombes and M. Ferdinando’s good +cheer regained their sway, and we trotted off +together, vowing an early return to explore the +wonders of this mine of novelty and excitement.</p> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"></div> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_138"></a>[138]</span></p> + +<h2 class="p4 nobreak" id="CHAPTER_XIX">CHAPTER XIX.</h2> + +<p class="noindent"><i>July 17th.</i>—Alas! how transient is all earthly +happiness! To-morrow I quit Colombes and my +delightful residence for ever; except, indeed, I +pay it a casual visit, and that I shall hardly +have heart to do. A few short days passed in +this elysium have endeared it to me beyond +expression, and, spite of certain little differences, +M. Ferdinand and I have become quite friends. +The old man’s manner is always so kind that I +really believe he likes me; but then these French +are consummate <i lang="fr">blagueurs</i>. Our principal quarrel +has been invariably about wine. At first he +always produced such as would have done +honour to any table, but by degrees he began +from time to time to introduce a bottle of inferior +quality. It was, however, too late; our +palates were formed, and could bear nothing but +the best, which we insisted on having, spite of his<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_139"></a>[139]</span> +equivocations and harangues to prove to us that +we were no judges of wine. Some droll scenes +have arisen out of this; for we discovered that M. +Ferdinand has the greatest horror of our invading +his territory, and availed ourselves of the discovery +whenever he tried to play us a trick. Nothing +could be more comical than the expression which +his countenance assumed on these occasions. +<span lang="fr">“Ferdinand!” “Monsieur!” “Ce vin ci n’est +pas bon!” “Ce vin n’est pas bon, monsieur?”</span> +arching his grey eyebrows. <span lang="fr">“Non, il est exécrable, +vilain.” “Mais, monsieur,”</span> with emphasis, +<span lang="fr">“c’est du meilleur vin de la cave, je vous assure;”</span> +and then, with an “<span lang="fr">Excusez, monsieur!</span>” he +takes the bottle, pours a little wine into the palm +of his hand, tastes it, makes a grimace indicative +of pleasure, rubs down his stomach with feigned +ecstasy, and exclaims, <span lang="fr">“Dieu merci, comme il +est excellent!” “Eh bien, M. Ferdinand, vous +ne savez plus plaire à notre gout; allez vous en, +cherchez une chandelle et la clef de la cave, j’y +descendrai choisir moi-même,”</span> &c. &c. This +always produced the desired effect—the comic +expression of his countenance would give place +to one of extreme anxiety. “<span lang="fr">Tenez, monsieur!—tenez! +cela ne sera pas bon; la cave est si +obscure, si humide. Ah, je ne le permettrai jamais.<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_140"></a>[140]</span> +Si monsieur le trouve bon, je descendrai chercher +d’autre vin, et peut-être je serais plus heureux.</span>” +Without waiting for a reply, he would brush +off with the activity of a man twenty years +younger. In due time, allowing for the supposed +search, re-enter M. Ferdinand with a joyous +countenance and bottle in hand, from which, the +long cork duly extracted, he would deliberately +fill a <em>large</em> glass, look exultingly around, and, +making a most profound bow (without, however, +spilling one drop), drink “<span lang="fr">au bonheur de Monsieur +le Commandant et des braves Anglais,</span>” then +triumphantly plant the bottle on the table with +renewed assurances of the excellence of its contents, +which we invariably found to be perfectly +true. On the whole, however, as I before said, +we were excellent friends, and Monsieur le Commandant +a special favourite with honest Ferdinand, +whose attentions were unremitting. It +grieves me, certainly, leaving Colombes—but go +I must.</p> + +<p>Yesterday Sir George Wood received despatches +from Lord Mulgrave appointing Sir John +May and Major William Lloyd to the two troops +vacant by the deaths of Ramsay and Bean. This +is a disappointment, for I had fully expected one +of them; however, it is somewhat softened by<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_141"></a>[141]</span> +the handsome manner in which his lordship +directs that I be retained as a supernumerary captain +of horse-artillery until a vacancy may occur, +which it is known must be soon, for poor Lloyd +is too severely wounded to survive. But the +worst part of the story is, that my old troop, in +which I have now been nine years, is to be taken +from me and given to Major Wilmot, who has +just arrived from England, and I am to go to D +Troop, late Bean’s, now Lloyd’s, and no doubt +soon to be mine. This morning Sir Augustus +Frazer inspected G Troop, previously to my +giving it up to Wilmot, in the field by the side +of the road from Neuilly Bridge to L’Etoile. I +took the opportunity of complaining that certain +malicious reports had been circulated by persons +unknown, to the injury of my character. These +set forth that the great loss sustained by G +Troop on the 18th arose from my culpable stupidity +in having unnecessarily exposed my detachment, +gun-horses, &c. Sir Augustus acknowledged +having heard such a report, which he had +taken every pains to contradict, and added, “I +have told everybody that the imputation is false; +and, moreover, that if blame attach to any one, +it must be to myself and Major M’Donald, for I +placed you in your position, and both of us visited<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_142"></a>[142]</span> +you repeatedly during the action, and ought to +have corrected anything that was wrong.” This +has been some ill-natured, jealous person, who +envies us the little credit we got on that occasion.</p> + +<p>After our inspection I sent Newland home with +the troop, and accompanied Sir Augustus to La +Chapelle under Montmartre, on the road to St +Denis, where he inspected the D Troop, now commanded +by Major D., previously to his giving +it up to me to-morrow. It is a wretched troop, +and very badly officered; the state of discipline +such as I never thought could have existed in +such a perfect service as the horse-artillery. +Frazer flattered me by saying, in answer to my +complaint, “Never mind; I am sure you will soon +have it in a very different state.” I hope so. +To-morrow, then, I depart hence—give up my +elysium, and exchange one of the very finest +troops in the service for the <em>very worst</em>. But I +must try and bring down my journal, if possible, +to the present day, so as to begin a new score at +my new station, wherever that may be. The +13th was the wet day on which I last wrote, and +then did not finish up to the date, I think the +12th. Hitchins and I breakfasted at seven, and +set off together immediately after for Paris. The<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_143"></a>[143]</span> +road thither, with the exception of the naked +plain between this and Courbevoie, is most interesting. +At the Place Louis Quinze we dismounted, +and Milward brought the horses back, +whilst we continued on towards the Louvre by +the Rue de Rivoli, &c. The Louvre is now in +all its glory—nothing has been touched, although +restoration is talked of. The Place du Carrousel +we found occupied by Prussian infantry in bivouac. +Not far off, near the Boulevard de la Madelaine, +are several large timber-yards. Blucher, less +scrupulous than Wellington, has emptied the +contents of one of these on the Place du Carrousel, +where his people have constructed a little +town of sheds or shanties with the planks. A +singular spectacle is this bivouac. The sheds +form regular streets parallel to the Grille; along +the centre of these are lines of fires, with camp-kettles +suspended over them, and soldiers in most +slovenly (even beggarly) <i lang="fr">déshabillé</i> sitting round, +peeling potatoes, turnips, onions, &c., or cutting +up very carrion-like meat for their messes. A +chain of sentries kept back the crowd, which was +immense—all eager to see the warriors so often +beaten by their own troops, now in their turn +conquerors, and enjoying the fruits of their victory +on the very ground where the mighty<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_144"></a>[144]</span> +Emperor of the West had passed in review those +<i lang="fr">soi-disant</i> invincible legions, and whence they +had successively departed for Madrid, Vienna, +Jena, and Moscow.</p> + +<p>Except a scowling ex-<i lang="fr">militaire</i> here and there, +nothing could exceed the <i lang="fr">bonhommie</i> apparent in +every countenance. Curiosity—pure curiosity—had +drawn them thither, and their staring physiognomies +did not betray an idea beyond the gratification +of it. What a holiday for the Parisians +this is, after all! The city seems in a continued +state of festivity, and at the same time of fever. +Amidst such a crowd and such excitement it was +not possible to indulge reflections; yet, spite of +these, a confused jumble of very curious ones +flashed across my mind as, <i lang="fr">en passant</i>, I contemplated +this host of foreigners, domesticated, as it +were, on the <em>sacred territory</em>; beyond them, and +overtopping their temporary dwellings, the celebrated +triumphal arch, surmounted by the four +Venetian horses; and beyond these again, the immense +façade (dark and gloomy) of the Tuileries, +scene of such strange and startling events. Struggling +through the crowd, our approach to the +Gallery of the Louvre was announced by a host +of boys and women, “A bill of the play, sir?” +“Please to buy a bill of the play?” which was soon<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_145"></a>[145]</span> +exchanged for “<span lang="fr">Catalogue du musée, monsieur? +un franc, monsieur.</span>” “<span lang="fr">Voulez-vous un catalogue +du musée, monsieur?</span>” &c. &c. These people +are more persevering than our vendors of these +articles; however, the purchase of one was a +mouth-stopper, and we were then suffered to +proceed unmolested to the great doors, where two +servants, most respectably dressed in blue and +silver, with white waistcoat and breeches, received +us, and pointed out the way to the first <i lang="fr">salon</i>. +A perfect stream, almost all foreigners, was setting +in, and the <i lang="fr">salons</i> were already pretty full, +although so early in the day. I cannot set up +for a connoisseur either in painting or sculpture, +therefore have little to record of this celebrated +collection beyond my unfeigned admiration of +what I there saw. My emotions in each individual +<i lang="fr">rencontre</i> with the different <i lang="fr">chefs-d’œuvre</i> +here assembled might be a source of amusement +to myself at some future period had I faithfully +noted them down at the moment, but that was +impossible in such a crowd; moreover, I had a +companion, the most complete hindrance imaginable +in my estimation to the enjoyment of anything +admirable either in art or nature. Now +they are nearly obliterated, and I can only say +that I was delighted, though in some cases disappointed.<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_146"></a>[146]</span> +This was particularly the case with +the Venus de Medici. I scarcely know what I +expected to see; but when a statue, patched and +cracked, the marble discoloured and disfigured +with greenish stains, such as one sees in our garden +Neptunes, Tritons, &c., was pointed out by the +number in our catalogue as the Venus, I could +scarcely believe but that it must be a mistake. +Such was the effect of the first <i lang="fr">coup d’œil</i>. Upon +a more attentive examination, however, I could +not but admit the thing to be a most beautiful +piece of workmanship as such; and the lady represented +a very pretty woman, but I felt no +raptures. The colossal group of the Laocoon, +occupying, like an altar-piece, the whole extremity +of the same apartment, hence called the Salle de +Laocoon, had no charms for me. In the first +place, I dislike colossal statues as much as I dislike +allegorical paintings; both are a departure +from nature, which I am not poetical enough to +appreciate. Secondly, I hate such subjects—I +hate a gratuitous contemplation of horrors and +suffering—and to me there is something exquisitely +disgusting in this subject. Thirdly, I dislike +all attempts at representing violent action +either in painting or sculpture, except for a momentary +glance; they cannot deceive the senses—there<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_147"></a>[147]</span> +is no illusion. Specimens of either should +be subjects to dwell upon, to contemplate, to +study. But who can dwell upon action that +<em>stands still</em>? What can be more tiresome than +the continually-uplifted arm of the Laocoon, or +the immovable struggles of the two little (by +comparison) men (for they are not boys), with +formal curly wigs, on each side of him. In +short, I hate this so far-famed group. Occupying +the extremity of the next <i lang="fr">salle</i>, is the Apollo. +Here I was not disappointed. The action has +just ceased—the figure is in a sufficient state of +repose to keep up the illusion and bear continued +looking at. And who could ever tire of this? +Such grace and ease, such lightness and activity—activity +written in broad characters upon +a figure not in movement—such an elegant and +perfect form, and such a divine head! How often +I have returned to gaze upon this most perfect +conception of the human mind—this most perfect +execution of the human hand! How often have I +turned into the <i lang="fr">musée</i>, and, heedless of the Venus, +the Laocoon, and all the other celebrated statues +in my way, have passed along, seeing nothing +and heeding nothing, until I stood once more +before this most exquisite piece of statuary! In +collections of this kind too many choice <i lang="fr">morceaux</i><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_148"></a>[148]</span> +in juxtaposition, or in immediate neighbourhood, +injure each other—they distract the attention; and +it is only after repeated visits that we become +cool enough to attach ourselves to particular +pieces. It was thus with me at my first visit +both to these and the <i lang="fr">galerie</i>; and I have felt +the same effect in passing through a wild and +picturesque country exhibiting beautiful features +and pictures at every turn. I have been cloyed, +even fatigued; and looked with pleasure on, and +found relief in, a landscape of a tamer description.</p> + +<p>From the <i lang="fr">salons</i> we ascended to the Galerie du +Louvre by a most superb staircase. English riflemen +were posted, not only on the landing-place, +but also distributed at intervals through the whole +length of the gallery—whether to preserve order +or the pictures, I know not; but I do know that +the appearance of their green uniforms, as they +stood leaning on their rifles all along this magnificent +perspective, was another of those sights +calculated to excite in our minds such strange tumultuous +feelings. What must have been those +of the Parisians, of whom a part of the immense +crowd that thronged the <i lang="fr">galerie</i> and anteroom +was composed? They apprehend that the spoliation +will commence directly, and are therefore<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_149"></a>[149]</span> +assiduous in their worship of those treasures +about to quit them for ever, and with them, they +think, their national glory. The only record I +make of the <i lang="fr">galerie</i> is, that Poussin’s “<span lang="fr">Deluge</span>” +fascinated me. Never did I see a picture inspiring +so much awe. Paul Potter’s “Bull” pleased me +as an inimitable copy from nature, but as a picture +it struck me as wanting in poetry. Some beggar-boy, +by Murillo, perfectly ravished me, <i lang="fr">malgré</i> +the disgusting subject: here was nature and the +most delicious colouring imaginable.</p> + +<p>As both Hitchins and I proposed paying many +more visits to the <i lang="fr">musée</i>, we did little more than +walk to the end of the <i lang="fr">galerie</i> and back, and then +departed, crossed the Prussian bivouac, and wandered +into the palace of the Tuileries. We went +as we listed, no one offering us the slightest obstruction; +and the sentinels (I think they were +of the National Guard), although they did not +salute us, yet drew up respectfully at their posts +as we passed them. Ascending a magnificent +staircase, we found our way into a large handsome +saloon, over the fireplace in which was a very +fine painting of a battle. I think this was the +Salle des Maréchaux. There was not a living +soul to answer our questions; but I have since +learned that what I took for a painting was<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_150"></a>[150]</span> +a piece of Gobelins tapestry. Unheeded, we +rambled on from one large room to another; indeed +we met but few anywhere, until at last we +walked most unceremoniously into one where a +number of servants in the royal livery were laying +a dinner-table, which, to our astonishment, we +found was for his Majesty. They hardly noticed +us, and answered all our questions in a most +good-natured but most respectful manner. There +was a beautiful service of Worcester ware, and, +for a private gentleman, a decent display of plate, +but nothing more—so far all was respectable; but +what a table-cloth! I doubt whether most of our +gentry of even the second table wouldn’t turn up +their insolent noses at such a one. Sure I am +that no gentleman in England ever sits down to +so coarse a thing. As dinner was just coming up, +the butler (I suppose) very civilly begged us to +retire, as his Majesty would be in immediately. +We descended to the gardens. I had heard and +read so much of the gardens of the Tuileries, that +here I experienced a disappointment similar to +that inflicted by the Champs Elysées. Nevertheless +they certainly form a very agreeable promenade. +That part immediately under the windows +of the palace is laid out in parterres of flower-beds +of different geometrical figure. I should say<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_151"></a>[151]</span> +that the garden is a dead level.<a id="FNanchor_15" href="#Footnote_15" class="fnanchor">[15]</a> Between the +parterres are broad walks, well rolled and well +swept. The further part is a grove, forming a +cool and pleasant promenade or lounge, much +taken advantage of by the Parisians, who may be +seen lounging in one or two chairs, as may be, in +all directions. These chairs are the property of +individuals who bring them there, and make a +livelihood by letting them out at two or three sous +the chair. Similar accommodation, it appears, is to +be found in every public place, even in the Boulevards. +The ramparts (rather grandiloquent, +when speaking of a mere terrace), which surround +the garden on three sides, are planted also, +and afford a most interesting promenade from the +views they command; yet, strange to say, people +appear to prefer the more confined one below. +Although I do not like the formal laying out of +these gardens, yet can I not but confess there is +something very lordly (or kingly) in them. The +broad, well-kept gravel-walks, the play of the +fountains, the numerous orange-trees in boxes, +which fill the air with their delicious but rather +overpowering perfume, the multitude of statues, +the view down the centre <i lang="fr">allée</i>, which is prolonged<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_152"></a>[152]</span> +into an immense perspective by being on +the same line with that of the Champs Elysées, +and on the other hand the ancient and venerable +pile, with its numerous windows, long covered +verandas, &c., overlooking the whole. The gaily-dressed +crowd, too, by which the garden is almost +always filled, gives it a holiday air very pleasing. +Passing once more through the palace and traversing +the Place du Carrousel, we soon reached +the southern entrance of the Palais Royal. It +was “change time,” and the place in front of the +gate was filled with business-like people, exactly +as in our Royal Exchange. What a strange propensity +the French have for misnomers! On +entering the so-called “<em>garden</em>”<a id="FNanchor_16" href="#Footnote_16" class="fnanchor">[16]</a> of the Palais +Royal, I was for the third time disappointed. Instead +of a garden I found myself in an immense +arid esplanade, surrounded (at least on three +sides) by lofty uniform buildings, the façade of +which was decorated by Corinthian pilasters, and +surmounted by vases, &c. An arcade ran all +round the base. The side by which we entered +was disfigured by a shabby wooden erection, +under which were numerous stalls of petty dealers +in every sort of articles, but apparently all of +inferior quality. Under the arcades were shops of<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_153"></a>[153]</span> +a better description, intermingled with cafés, restaurants, +&c., and here was certainly a splendid +display of goods of the richest kind. Watch-makers +exhibited the most elegant little toys, +enriched with pearls and chased-work; jewellers +the most splendid articles in precious stone, gold, +silver, &c.; shops of <i lang="fr">gourmandise</i> (if I may be +allowed the term)—everything that could stimulate +or pamper the appetite. Many were entirely +filled with knick-knackery, or articles of <i lang="fr">vertu</i>; +others with steel or cutlery; in others, again, were +tastefully displayed the finest cashmere or merino +shawls and <i lang="fr">fichûs</i> of the most brilliant colours. In +short, I cannot remember the tenth part of the +rich display under these arcades.</p> + +<p>In the esplanade were a few shabby trees, some +benches, and piles of chairs. The crowd of loungers, +&c. (for I presume most there were so), +under the arcades, was very great, principally, +I think, military. Prussian and Russian officers +in blue or green uniforms, waists drawn in like a +wasp’s, breasts sticking out like a pigeon’s; long +sashes, with huge tassels of gold or silver, hanging +half-way down their legs—pretty red and +white boyish faces, with an enormous bush of +hair over each ear; lancers in square-topped +caps and waving plumes; hussars in various rich<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_154"></a>[154]</span> +uniforms, one more remarkable, sky-blue, curiously +laced with a sort of chain-lace, very ugly +to my taste; Austrian officers in plain white uniforms, +turned up with red—very neat, very soldier-like, +very becoming, and the men who wore them +more gentlemanly in their appearance than any +of the others; English officers in all sorts of +dresses, fancy, half-military, and quite so. To +say that women abounded amongst these would +be almost superfluous—some very handsome, +some quite the contrary—all wearing looks of the +boldest and most meretricious character. Boys, +too, abounded, as in the Pays Bas, following and +pestering you with their odious propositions. The +cafés and restaurants were principally filled with +officers smoking, drinking, playing chess, &c. &c. +A few turns in the promenade, and then it was so +late that we returned to the Place Louis Quinze, +whence a cabriolet in due time brought us to our +quiet peaceable village.</p> + +<p>The next day (13th), although it looked black +and threatening, we went to Paris; but the rain +set in so heavily that we returned forthwith, most +completely drenched, to Colombes, having seen +nothing.</p> + +<p>The 14th was fine again, and I resolved on an +expedition to Malmaison and Versailles if possible.<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_155"></a>[155]</span> +The road lay through Nanterre, on the <i lang="fr">coteau</i>, +but a little elevated above the meadows through +which the Seine holds its course. The scenery, +without being very striking, was very pleasing +and pretty. On my right at some little distance +ran the river, beyond which rose a ridge of vine-clad +hills, a continuation of those behind Argenteuil; +on the left, the vineyard, corn-fields, and +rose-gardens terminated in a range of high +ground, wooded, continuing from Mont Valerien +towards Marly, where the water-works, projecting +from the there steep acclivity, formed rather a picturesque +object—following the windings of the +Seine through a less interesting country (because +all corn). In the distance one sees the chateau of +St Germain, with its long white terrace, backed +by the dark foliage of the park; beneath, the +waters of the river glitter like silver in the bright +light. Malmaison is on the higher ground; and +on ascending to the park-gates, I was pleased to +find two neat little lodges, and an entrance perfectly +English, which was the style all around. +The house had nothing extraordinary in its +appearance, but the little lawn in front was redolent +of the perfume of the orange-flower, numerous +trees being ranged around all in full blossom. +I found but few servants in the house; on asking<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_156"></a>[156]</span> +to see which, a lady-like person was called, who +acted as cicerone with the easy and graceful +manner so characteristic of French women. Had +it not been for the interest one attaches to whatever +is connected with great or extraordinary +people, the houses at Malmaison perhaps were +not so much worth seeing as many houses +even of our commoners. There was only one +room remarkable for its fitting-up, and it was +in other respects the most interesting. It was +Josephine’s bedroom. A little scene took place +here. My companion idolised her former mistress; +the recollections of past times and of her +beloved Empress, renewed by my questions, overpowered +her. I believe she was sincere. The +furniture of this room (which was, I think, an +octagon) was certainly splendid. Scarlet cloth +(very fine) with trimmings of broad gold-lace, +and deep gold fringe of bullions. The bed-curtains +and coverlet were of the same, and the walls +were covered with it instead of paper, the gold-lace +serving as a border to the panels, &c. I +did not admire the taste of Josephine in this. +Here it was she expired. Running at right +angles to the front of the house is the <i lang="fr">galerie</i>—a +beautiful <i lang="fr">salon</i>, full of exquisite morsels of +sculpture, all modern, but in my estimation many<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_157"></a>[157]</span> +of them rivalling the antique. Taking leave of +my amiable conductress, I set off to pick my way +without a guide through a woody, intricate, wild +country, where the openings were of no extent, +so that no view could be obtained. After riding +up one avenue and down another for some time, +I began to fancy I was lost, when suddenly riding +out upon an open I saw several peasants, +male and female, at work near a <i lang="fr">bergerie</i>,<a id="FNanchor_17" href="#Footnote_17" class="fnanchor">[17]</a> which +occupied the centre of the place. I rode forward +to inquire my way, when lo! down went hoes, +and away went men, women, and dogs as fast as +their legs could carry them into the neighbouring +woods, leaving me as much at a loss to account +for their fright, as to which of the many roads +(<em>forest</em>) diverging hence I should take to extricate +myself from my dilemma. As the English +nowhere inspire terror, these people must have +taken me for a Prussian hussar, from my pelisse +and enormous mustache. As no information was +to be procured, I had nothing left but to push<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_158"></a>[158]</span> +on and take my chance. I had not ridden far +when the ground began to descend (I had been +travelling on an elevated plateau), the thickets +and wood became thinner and more scattered, +and below me I saw several farmhouses. From +subsequent inspection of the map, this must have +been La Selle de St Cloud. I rode up to the first +substantial-looking house, tied my horse up in a +shed, and without ceremony marched into the +kitchen, where the mistress and her maids were +busily employed in their household concerns. +My entrance did not in the least disconcert them, +or even occasion them any apparent surprise: +they entered gaily into conversation without for +a minute interrupting their work. No running +away here. I was very hungry, but, <i lang="fr">malgré</i> the +opulent appearance of the house, the good lady +could give me nothing but bread (sour, as usual), +some very fine cherries, and delicious milk. For +this she would accept no remuneration, but her +maids thankfully accepted the trifle I offered +them for their trouble. I found that my deviation +from the direct road to Versailles had not +been great; and having received instructions for +my future progress, and taken leave of my kind +hostess, I once more plunged into a forest, from +which, however, I soon emerged upon a cultivated<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_159"></a>[159]</span> +country sprinkled with farms and villages, +and very agreeably diversified with hill, dale, and +woodland. At last the palace of Versailles, overtopping +the trees and buildings in its neighbourhood, +burst upon me with imposing grandeur, +and I soon after entered the town.</p> + +<p>In front of the palace is a large, almost triangular, +esplanade, narrowing from the palace until +it terminates in the road to Paris. A clumsy +thing enough, for when building the palace they +might as well have laid out a handsome square +in front of it. The place looked dull and lifeless, +few people, except some Prussian soldiers, being +visible. The number of hotels, taverns, &c. &c., +announced it as the resort of strangers and idlers. +The palace itself, from all its window-shutters +being closed, looked as dismal as the rest. Having +secured my horse, I sounded the bell at the +palace-gate, which brought out the <i lang="fr">Suisse</i>, who +sounded another bell, which brought a most gentlemanly, +but very melancholy-looking, young +man in the royal livery, who, upon being informed +of my wish to see the palace, made a very +polite bow, and requested me to follow him. It +were needless repeating the history he gave of +each splendid apartment, and they appeared innumerable. +Solitary and silent, an overpowering<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_160"></a>[160]</span> +sensation of melancholy came over me in comparing +their present deserted state with that which +had for ever passed, and I no longer wondered +at the pensive manner of my interesting young +companion, though he was too young to have +known Versailles in the days of its splendour. I +believe, with the exception of ourselves and the +<i lang="fr">Suisse</i>, whom we had left at the gate, this immense +fabric did not contain another living soul. +So long did we continue wandering from room to +room, that at last, on returning to the vestibule—no +time was left to visit the <i lang="fr">Trianon</i> as I had +intended, or even the gardens—all that I saw of +them was from a terrace upon which we were +admitted from one of the central <i lang="fr">salons</i>—unless +I remained all night. It became necessary to +depart forthwith, or find my way in the dark +back to Colombes.</p> + +<p>The great road to Paris is a superb avenue, but +it was disfigured by dust, which, spite of yesterday’s +rain, I found a real nuisance.</p> + +<p>Numerous were the villas along the road, but, +like those in the neighbourhood of London, the +shrubberies in which they were embowered, and +everything about them, was grey and dingy with +the dust with which they were powdered. A +great part of this line seemed inhabited only<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_161"></a>[161]</span> +by washerwomen. The foul linen of all Paris +seemed assembled here. The abundance of fine +water, perhaps, is the cause of this. Pity +that some portion of it were not employed in +making this otherwise beautiful ride somewhat +more enjoyable. It was growing so late as I +passed Sêvres, that I merely can say I saw the +exterior of the celebrated manufactory of porcelain. +A thick dark avenue of trees, turning to +the left, here seemed to promise a short cut to St +Cloud; so up it I turned, but had not proceeded +far ere I stumbled on a guard of Prussian jägers +in an old summer-house. The sentry stopped and +ordered me back. The corporal coming out, and +finding that I was an English officer, very civilly +informed me that, as Prince Blucher had his headquarters +in the palace of St Cloud, no one was +allowed to cross the park. Back, then, I went, +and descending to the Seine found a good road, +by which, passing through St Cloud, Suresnes, +&c., I returned hither just as it got so dark that +I was obliged to my horse for bringing me safe +home. The latter part of my ride along the +charming banks of the river, and in the cool of a +fine evening, was truly delightful.</p> + +<p><i>15th.</i>—I went to Paris again, wandered about +the streets without any fixed plan, and quite by<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_162"></a>[162]</span> +accident stumbled upon the Hôtel Dieu. I like +this random mode of proceeding much better than +following any fixed plan of sight-seeing: it is +more independent. I walked into the hospital +and through its wards. Nothing could be cleaner +or better arranged; but the whole place, especially +about the main entrance, had such an overpowering +smell, that I was glad to make my +escape and find my way to the Cathedral of +Nôtre Dame. There is something exceedingly +impressive in the interior of a Gothic cathedral +at any time. Mass was performing as I entered +the church, the solemnity of which, from the little +light and rather heavy style of the architecture, +was increased by the fine bass voices of the +canons who assisted in the service, every one in +his stall. From Nôtre Dame, after taking an +omelet in a neighbouring restaurant, I had a +long stroll by the quays to the Invalides. The +old soldiers lounging or walking about the approaches +to this fine establishment, although perfectly +respectful, I thought looked displeased at +seeing me. There were even some who did not +attempt to conceal looks and gestures of hatred +and contempt. They are to be pitied more than +blamed for this feeling, since these were the men +who fought and <em>always</em> conquered in Italy and<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_163"></a>[163]</span> +Germany. Notwithstanding their scowling looks, +I could not help regarding these fine veterans +with the most profound veneration. I found no +difficulty, however, in procuring a cicerone to +show the lions, and under his guidance walked +through the halls, where the tables were already +laid for dinner; through the dormitories, where +the beds were all clean and neatly made up, and +looking comfortable, &c. &c. In the officers’ +dining-rooms the tables were also laid—round +ones for four or six persons each—not as with us, +all at one long table. A bottle of wine was here +placed by the side of each man’s plate. Nothing +could be more comfortable or more respectable. +We then visited the church under the dome where +are the tombs of Turenne and Vauban.<a id="FNanchor_18" href="#Footnote_18" class="fnanchor">[18]</a> All this +was not very amusing, but my guide, leading the +way up several staircases, at last ushered me into +a large but low room, immediately under the roof, +filled with beautifully-finished models of almost +all the frontier fortresses in France. Here I +passed the remainder of the day most delightfully. +The most interesting of these models were Chateau +Trompette; Brest, with its harbours and<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_164"></a>[164]</span> +the adjacent country for three or four miles round; +Strasbourg and neighbourhood; but one of the +most amusing was an exquisitely-finished model +of the battle of Lodi, under a glass bell. A fine +boy of about fifteen or sixteen, to whom my +quondam guide had delivered me over on entering +the model-room, excited my surprise, not only +by the clearness with which he explained everything +to me, but also by the shrewdness of his remarks, +and the great knowledge he evinced of +military affairs in general; quite an incipient +Buonaparte, I should say—only Buonaparte was +never half so handsome. I could have lingered +for a week over these interesting models, but the +diminution of light obliged me at last reluctantly +to leave them. Whilst we were wandering +from loft to loft, for there were several, we came +accidentally into one where two or three Prussian +officers were superintending the dismemberment +and packing up of all such as had any relation +to the possessions of their monarch; and my +young companion told me he suspected they +meant to take away Strasbourg, and that they +had already packed up several which could not +come under that denomination. The poor boy +spoke very feelingly on the subject, and seemed +heart-broken at losing his favourite models. I<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_165"></a>[165]</span> +shall frequently visit the Invalides, unless the +Prussians quite strip it of the models. It will +be a delightful lounge, those lofts.</p> + +<p>Yesterday, being Sunday, our three troops assembled, +under Major M’Donald, in the park, +where Captain M’Donald’s troop is quartered, +and had divine service. Passed the afternoon in +riding about the neighbourhood, and the evening +in the enjoyment of my beautiful terrace, &c. &c.</p> + +<p>To-morrow I go in search of my new troop, +somewhere about St Denis.</p> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"></div> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_166"></a>[166]</span></p> + +<h2 class="p4 nobreak" id="CHAPTER_XX">CHAPTER XX.</h2> + +<p class="noindent"><i>Sunday, July 22d.</i>—This is the first time I have +been sufficiently settled and quiet to sit down to +write since the evening of the 17th, my last at +Colombes—dear Colombes! The intervening +space has not been passed in idleness. On the +morning of the 18th I was fully occupied in giving +over my troop and stores to Major Wilmot, who +takes possession also of my charming apartment, +and Mademoiselle Ernestine gets a new neighbour. +After an earlier dinner than usual, Hitchins +accompanied me to St Denis; my servants +and horses started in the morning. At St Denis I +could gain no immediate and distinct information. +Some of Ross’s non-commissioned officers whom I +met with said they thought the troop must have +halted in Stain. I shuddered at the very name +of the place; it was the worst I had anticipated. +As Hitchins knew the desolation of Stain, and<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_167"></a>[167]</span> +the utter impossibility of my giving him a bed, +even if I could get one myself, he took his leave, +and I proceeded thitherward alone. It was with +a heavy heart that I traversed the once rich crops +of grain, now trodden into mud by having been +the bivouac of our troops, and still heavier that I +rode through the dismal street of the ruined village. +I soon met some of the gunners, who confirmed +my worst fears—viz., that the troop actually +was stationed here. The officers were living +and messing in a house close to the church, and +opposite the <i lang="fr">grille</i> of the great chateau; and +thither I repaired, and found them accordingly +sitting at their wine. My servants had been here +some time, and had taken possession of the Petit +chateau, already mentioned. The house I found +my officers in belongs to the Sœurs de la Charité. +I was sensibly struck on entering it at the contrast +with my villa at Colombes; mean, gloomy, +dirty, and scarce an article of furniture in it, and +what there was, of the poorest description. To +counterbalance all this, it is the only house in the +place (at least so they thought then) that has any +glass in the windows, and how it escaped is extraordinary. +They were seated in a dismal room, +very low, and having a very disagreeable odour, +overpowering even that of the dinner, in which<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_168"></a>[168]</span> +the flavour of onions predominated. After introducing +myself, and drinking a glass or two of +wine, as the daylight began to fail I set off to inspect +my new quarters. The appearance of this +in its best days would not have been pleasing +after Colombes; but now, forlorn, deserted, +plundered! The handsome furniture which had +once adorned it, mutilated and torn to pieces, was +yet fresh when last I saw it; the fragments retained +their paint or gilding, the mahogany its +varnish; the tatters of silk fringe and curtains, +scattered over the lawns and walks, or hanging +from the branches in the shrubberies, yet retained +their colour in all its freshness: now, after having +been drenched by rain, and bleached in the sun +and wind, all remains of former beauty were gone—all +associations with splendour and magnificence +vanished; they conveyed to the mind no feeling +but that of squalidness and wretchedness. Amidst +all this I entered the house. There things looked +even worse. The winds of heaven had freely +coursed through the paneless windows, the rain +had inundated the floors, decay had already commenced, +and the place looked as if it had been +years deserted. Chilly, comfortless, and wretched, +the floors still covered with fragments of glass, +which, crunching under one’s feet, added not a<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_169"></a>[169]</span> +little to the misery of the scene, still further enhanced +by a most gloomy evening, and the dismal +sound of the wind through the branches foretelling +a stormy night. At length, after wandering +from room to room, always finding one worse +than the last, the approaching darkness obliged +me to decide quickly, so I pitched upon a large +one, with a recess for a bed, where I could at +least be at some distance from the windows. My +men had already made themselves tolerably comfortable +in the stable, and I now summoned all +hands to make me so too. Brooms were speedily +made by stripping the branches from some acacias +or laburnums in the courtyard, and all the +rubbish and broken glass swept out of the window; +candles were procured from the mess, my +bed made in the recess upon a bedstead, nearly +sound—the place began to look a little better, +and I a little more cheerful. Though not so +luxuriously, yet I slept as soundly as ever at +Colombes, <i lang="fr">malgré</i> the forlorn feeling that crept +over me as I fell into unconsciousness at the idea +of being the only person in the great rambling +mansion, with doors and windows all open, and +admittance free to whomsoever might come.</p> + +<p>My gloominess had construed the sighing of +the wind among the foliage into a presage of<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_170"></a>[170]</span> +rain and storm. Neither came; and the next +morning I was awakened by the sun streaming full +in my face, the carol of birds innumerable, and the +soft, balmy, yet fresh air of a most lovely morning. +As our mess-breakfast was not very early, +I jumped up determined on a thorough examination +of the whole village, in hopes of finding +something better than the Petit chateau. After +looking into several, all equally miserable, I found +the one where I ought to have begun, the only +one habitable. It was only across the road, shut +in by high walls, overtopped by acacias. This +house had escaped the observation of others as it +had mine; and, strange to say, had scarcely been +visited by the spoiler. All the windows were +perfect, and the only injury visible on the premises +was the breaking to pieces of a number of +paltry plaster Cupidons and their pedestals, that +had erst disfigured the garden. I took possession +immediately, and here I sit in my cabinet about +to give a description of it. The house is tall and +narrow—four storeys counting the ground-floor +to the front, and three towards the garden, which +is higher than the court. The ground-floor consists +of stables, wood-houses, &c., opening on this +court, which is planted with acacias and shut in +from the village by a high wall with great close<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_171"></a>[171]</span> +gates. On the next (or garden ground-floor), is +the only decent-sized room in the whole house: +all the rest are divided into those useless little +cabinets of which the French seem so fond, +many of them with glass doors. All the rooms +have the abominable brick or tile floors so +common here: however, all the windows are +sound, which is the grand object. I have chosen +the floor above the garden—that is, third from +the court—where I have a narrow slip, with glass +door at one end and window at the other, the +view from which certainly does not rival that at +Colombes, for it is bounded by the four high +walls of my garden; another piece, with a recess +in it, serves me for a bedroom, and into these +two I have collected all the furniture remaining +in the house, which is but little, and that of the +meanest description—a few clumsy, old-fashioned +chairs, and a table or two. One of the former is a +curious article: the seat lifts up, and behold a +<i lang="fr">bidet</i>; the top of the thick back has two or three +little boxes in it for holding soap or what not. +My three domestics occupy the floor below me, +and are next the animals. The garden, which +rises in a gentle slope from the house, is a long +narrow strip, neatly laid out and abundantly +stocked with flowers, vegetables, and fine fruit—particularly<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_172"></a>[172]</span> +grapes, plums, and peaches, &c. +The whole is the property of two old maids, Les +Demoiselles Delcambre, Marchandes des Modes, +who, on the approach of the Allies, removed all +the furniture worth removal, and left the place in +charge of an old Flemish servant—a virgin, like +themselves. Mademoiselle Rose, as she is called +in the village (and I should have mentioned that +most, if not all, the peasantry have returned, and +that only the chateaux and country seats of the +citizens remain unoccupied)—Mademoiselle Rose +is a character. Strong in the confidence of her +want of charms, she is said to have remained +faithful to her charge,<a id="FNanchor_19" href="#Footnote_19" class="fnanchor">[19]</a> even when the Prussians +entered and plundered the village, and thereby, +the villagers assure me, saved her mistress’s property +when all else was destroyed. A short, +squat figure, clad in coarse black frieze, a face of +the ugliest, set off by a pair of black mustaches +fit for a hussar, which gives her a fierce and masculine +aspect, like the dragon of the Hesperides, for +she performs the part of watching the fruit most +unremittingly. The moment I enter the garden +she skulks after me; and on looking about I am<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_173"></a>[173]</span> +sure to detect her ugly phiz watching my movements +from behind some bush, not presuming, +however, to interfere. More than once I have noticed +the sudden disappearance of fruit from some +particular tree; and William tells me that Mademoiselle +Rose strips the trees at night and sends +the fruit to Paris. I should suspect my own people, +only that they would not take it in such quantities. +This, however, is not of any great consequence, +since we have several other well-stocked +gardens in the village from whence to help ones +self without trespassing on those attached to the +officers’ houses, which are, of course, considered +as private property. There are, <i lang="fr">par exemple</i>, +the chateau belonging to Jerome Buonaparte; +the Petit chateau to M. Domer, who, I believe, +is something in the Admiralty; another large +handsome chateau, with very extensive, well-kept +gardens, to Admiral le Comte Rosilly; a very +pretty villa, garden, &c., the property of some +rich shopkeeper; and several little boxes of minor +importance. The village itself may be said +to consist of two streets, short, and neither of +them continuous. It is situated on a dead flat, +consequently has no other beauty to boast of than +what it derives from the foliage of the trees +in the grounds of the chateaux, &c. The fields<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_174"></a>[174]</span> +about it are corn and vines—principally the latter, +I think.</p> + +<p>It was at first certainly rather a nuisance changing +from Colombes, though I have already got +pretty well accustomed to the new situation. +The difference was not only in the style of my +lodging, beauty of the surrounding country, &c. +&c., but also most particularly in our living. Instead +of the comfortable, well-served table, and +excellent wine of M. Ferdinand, and the new +milk, nice fresh butter, and new-laid eggs—produce +of my dairy and poultry-yard—here we daily +sit down to miserably-cooked soup and <i lang="fr">bouilli</i>, +made of ration-beef, and a bad steak of the +same, served in ill-cleaned tin (canteen) dishes. +Vegetables, to be sure, we have in abundance. +Then for wine, we have some very poor stuff, +which Ambrose (my surgeon) bought somewhere +in Paris, and, from not understanding French, got +cheated. At home here I have managed to get +up a breakfast, though a poor one; the bread +is so abominably sour, and the butter so cheesy. +Nor have I been able to dispose of my time in +the same agreeable manner as at Colombes; for +between the constant attention my wretched troop +requires, and the plague of the villagers, I have +but little left for amusement. The former of<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_175"></a>[175]</span> +these, the troop, I have quieted a little, by giving +one of them a severe flogging; but its disorganised +state may be guessed at, when it is known +that the payment (contrary to our regulations) is +in the hands of the sergeant-major, and that my +predecessor, poor Bean, died in debt to this man +at least £300. Of course everything was winked +at.</p> + +<p>The villagers (unlike those of Colombes, who +have never been disturbed), after being scared +from their dwellings by our advance, have returned +to them, only to find everything ruined +and destroyed. Of course they are not in charity +with us, and full of complaining. This is all +brought to me by the Maire, who pays me a regular +visit every morning, and frequently in the +evening also, waylaying me, besides, whenever I go +from home. The Duke’s system of discipline is +well known, and these people seem disposed to +take every advantage of it, fair and unfair. One +complains of our occupying his house and stables, +another of his field being mowed, another of something +else, and so on. It is inconceivable that a +conquered people, and a people whose armies have +shown no forbearance in foreign countries, should +thus dare lift up their voice and complain that +the conqueror disturbs them, and puts them to<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_176"></a>[176]</span> +some inconvenience. So it is! If I attended to +one half the complaints brought before me, we +should soon be turned out of the place altogether. +The very morning after my arrival, M. Bonnemain +(Maire, &c.) called, and was introduced—a dry, +thin, old man, rather above the middle height, +in a suit of rusty-brown clothes, snuff-box in one +hand eternally, and the other gesticulating in aid +of his drawling voice and interminable oratory. +After the introductory bow, he commenced by +welcoming me to Stain, eulogised the village and +villagers, expressed his satisfaction at my appointment, +having already heard of my high character +as an officer; under the command <i lang="fr">d’un tel</i> +Monsieur, everything must go on in the happiest +manner possible. Then followed butter, thickly +laid on, after which he cautiously and dexterously +introduced his business, no doubt guessing that, +having placed me on so elevated a pinnacle, I +should be more cautious of a fall. “<span lang="fr">Mais, Monsieur +le Commandant,</span>” he continued, “<span lang="fr">nous sommes +des pauvres malheureux, pour nous tout est perdu—tout +abimé, &c.;</span>” and so he went on expressing +his confidence in the justice of M. le Commandant, +and that he would not oppress the poor. +Then followed a long—very long—story about a +worthy industrious man, with a large family,<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_177"></a>[177]</span> +whose house was occupied by our men, and stables +by our horses, and a request that I might have +the goodness to relieve this unfortunate family +from so oppressive a burden. He had not reckoned +without his host: Monsieur le Commandant swallowed +some, at least, of the dose; was softened; +the quartermaster is called, and orders given +that the detachment should be removed from the +farm in question. Monsieur le Maire is still more +profuse in bows and compliments, amidst which +he retired, to my great satisfaction, for I was tired +of him. The next day Monsieur le Maire again +appeared, and in similar manner pleaded the +cause of another excellent <i lang="fr">malheureux</i>, whose +crop of oats our people were cutting. Again he +was successful; but as Monsieur le Commissary-General +had begged us to supply ourselves in this +manner from the fields, I requested Monsieur le +Maire to point out how we might do so with the +least possible injury to the inhabitants. He did +so, and I gave the necessary orders for confining +our foraging parties to the fields indicated, and to +avoid unnecessary waste. Again Monsieur Bonnemain +is announced; but this time he came +accompanied by a genteel but rather important-looking +personage, just arrived in a handsome +cabriolet, whom Monsieur le Maire introduces as<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_178"></a>[178]</span> +the postmaster of St Denis. They are somebody +these postmasters. An exordium of a most complimentary +character ushered in, as usual, a complaint, +or rather a protest, against our cutting this +gentleman’s oats. Monsieur le Maître des Postes +condescended (and he made the condescension evident) +to inform me that he farmed the land in +question at an exorbitant rent; that the produce +was absolutely requisite to enable him to fulfil his +contract with Government; that he should suffer +much inconvenience from our depredations; and +that, the public business of the Government being +thus obstructed (with a most ominous shrug and +extension of both hands), it was impossible to +answer for the consequences. Hereupon the great +man, with an air of perfect indifference, turned +his back on me, and began asking trifling questions +of some villagers who had flocked in to witness +the negotiation. My answer was very brief: +“Monsieur le Maire had himself designated the +fields we were to cut.” (Here a most portentous +glance was shot by Monsieur le Maître at Monsieur +le Maire.) “That if the public suffered in +the business of posting, it was of infinitely less +consequence than that any part of the British army +should become inefficient for want of forage. As, +in the present case, somebody must suffer, it were<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_179"></a>[179]</span> +better that the burden should fall on those best +able to afford it.” Monsieur le Maître then +shifted his ground somewhat, complaining of the +waste committed by our foragers, who, he said, +trampled down more than they cut. I promised +this, if found to be the case, should be remedied, +for our own sakes; and, at his request, that one +particular non-commissioned officer should superintend +the foraging. Monsieur, finding he could +get no more, bade me adieu with more politeness +than he had condescended to use on our first meeting, +mounted his cabriolet amidst bows of the +assembled peasantry, and drove off. This fellow’s +opposition has not been without consequences. +My villagers have become more bold, and even +begin to draw up petitions to the Duke. Some +of these have already been sent to me, with an +intimation that I must not oppress the inhabitants +unless it be unavoidable. This happens to +be the case—therefore I have taken no notice of +them.</p> + +<p><i>July 25th.</i>—Yesterday our army (British only) +was reviewed by their Imperial and Royal Majesties. +I marched early, as the line was to be +formed by 9 o’clock. After passing through St +Denis, we took the great road to the right by St +Ouen, and came on the Neuilly road just above<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_180"></a>[180]</span> +the village, where we formed, being on the left +of the whole, except the 18-pounder brigades. +Ross and Bull’s troops were on my right. We +had a long and tedious wait; and as the day was +very hot, it was no small treat to discover that +an apothecary hard by had some excellent raspberry +vinegar, which, I think, we exhausted. At +length the approach of the sovereigns was announced, +and they came preceded and followed +by a most numerous and brilliant <i lang="fr">cortège</i>, in +which figured, perhaps, some of almost every arm +of every army in Europe. It was a splendid and +most interesting sight. First came the Emperor +Alexander and the King of Prussia, in their respective +green and blue uniforms, riding together—the +former, as usual, all smiles; the latter taciturn +and melancholy. A little in their rear followed +the Austrian Emperor, in a white uniform, turned +up with red, but quite plain—a thin, dried-up, +thread-paper of a man, not of the most distinguished +bearing; his lean brown visage, however, +bore an expression of kindness and <i lang="fr">bonhommie</i>, +which folk say his true character in no way belies. +They passed along, scanning our people with evident +interest and curiosity; and in passing me +(as they did to every commanding officer), pulled +off their hats, and saluted me with most gracious<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_181"></a>[181]</span> +smiles. I wonder if they do the same to their +own. Until yesterday I had not seen any British +infantry under arms since the evening the troops +from America arrived at Garges, and, in the +mean time, have constantly seen corps of foreign +infantry. These are all uncommonly well dressed +in new clothes, smartly made, setting the men off +to the greatest advantage—add to which their <i lang="fr">coiffure</i> +of high broad-topped shakos, or enormous caps +of bear-skin. Our infantry—indeed, our whole +army—appeared at the review in the same clothes +in which they had marched, slept, and fought for +months. The colour had faded to a dusky brick-dust +hue; their coats, originally not very smartly made, +had acquired by constant wearing that loose easy +set so characteristic of old clothes, comfortable to +the wearer, but not calculated to add grace to his +appearance. <i lang="fr">Pour surcroit de laideur</i>, their cap is +perhaps the meanest, ugliest thing ever invented. +From all these causes it arose that our infantry appeared +to the utmost disadvantage—dirty, shabby, +mean, and very small. Some such impression was, +I fear, made on the sovereigns, for a report has +reached us this morning, that they remarked to +the Duke what very small men the English were. +“Ay,” replied our noble chief, “they are small; +but your Majesties will find none who fight<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_182"></a>[182]</span> +so well.” I wonder if this is true. However +small our men and mean their appearance, yet it +was evident that they were objects of intense interest, +from the immense time and close scrutiny +of the inspection. At length they finished, and, +taking their stand in the Place Louis Quinze, we +marched past in column of division. The crowd +assembled to witness this exceeded anything I +had ever before seen. Not only were the people +packed as thick as they could stand in the area +itself, but the buildings of the Garde Meuble, the +ramparts of the Tuileries, even the roof of the +Hotel Bourbon over the river, were all crowded—windows, +roofs, and every cornice that could hold +human beings. After passing, we took our route +along the Rue Royale, Boulevard and Rue Poissonnière, +starting off at a good trot, and got home +about 6 o’clock. In St Denis I met Captain +Gaffon and the little doctor of the Brunswick +Hussars, neither of whom I had seen since we +were in barracks together at Woodbridge. The +meeting really seemed to please them, as they had +heard I was killed at Waterloo. It seems somebody +is determined I did or ought to have died. +One of our people told me the other day, that +the day after the battle a staff-officer had shown +him my name in a list as dangerously wounded.<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_183"></a>[183]</span> +And during the retreat of the 17th, whilst I +was with the cavalry at Jemappes, one of the +Blues who overtook my troop on the road told +them that I was killed, for he had himself seen +me cut down by a French dragoon—<i lang="fr">Cependant +me voici!</i></p> + +<p><i>July 30th.</i>—More trouble, more complaints. +Another memorial to the Duke from my subjects, +complaining of cutting their oats. This I have +very easily disposed of; but lo! here is a more +formidable adversary to deal with—no less than +M. le Marquis de Livry, <i lang="fr">rentier</i> or <i lang="fr">propriétaire</i> +of the gambling <i lang="fr">salons</i> in the Palais Royal, and, +as such, a man of immense influence. He has +property in this commune, and a <i lang="fr">bergerie</i> in the +village, where he keeps a flock of merinos. The +sheep being absent when the troop arrived, the +<i lang="fr">bergerie</i> was converted into a stable; but having +lately returned, under their shepherd, part of the +building has been appropriated to their use. The +shepherd, a perfect Sancho Panza in person, not +content with this, has ever since been intriguing +to obtain entire possession. I have been fairly +pestered to death about this <i lang="fr">bergerie</i>. Almost +daily M. le Maire and M. le Berger <ins class="corr" id="tn-183" title="Transcriber’s Note—Original text: 'de'"> +and</ins> M. le Marquis de Livry make their appearance at my +quarters, or intercept me in the street to tell<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_184"></a>[184]</span> +me the same story over again, and to get the +same answer. Finding his perseverance useless, +M. le Berger (no doubt assisted by M. le Maire) +draws up a very moving petition to the Duke, +which M. de Livry takes care shall be presented +under proper auspices, and behold the consequence: +A positive order from his Grace to evacuate forthwith +the premises of the Marquis de Livry, and +<em>to put up our horses elsewhere in the best manner +we can; that is, respect the rich man’s property +and oppress doubly the poor</em>—for we must divide +the forty horses hitherto stabled in the <i lang="fr">bergerie</i> +among the poor villagers, who already have more +than is good for them. The Duke of Wellington’s +ideas of discipline, &c., are rigid—his mode of +administering it summary; but he is frequently +led into acts of the grossest injustice. A notorious +instance of this I am now suffering +under, and one that makes the <i lang="fr">bergerie</i> business +a mere flea-bite. Only a few days ago, whilst +sitting after dinner at our little mess, an officer of +the mounted staff corps (<i lang="fr">gendarmerie Anglaise</i>) +was announced. He regretted being the bearer of +disagreeable orders, &c. &c., but Colonel Scovell, +commandant of the mounted staff corps, had +directed him to show me the paper, which he produced, +and to inform me that his Grace had<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_185"></a>[185]</span> +ordered it should be immediately complied with. +Further, that the Duke was excessively angry, +and had expressed himself very harshly on the +subject; therefore Colonel Scovell recommended +me to make no remonstrance, as he could not foresee +what might be the consequence. The paper +was a petition from a certain M. Fauigny (an +Italian), setting forth, I think, that he is proprietor +of the Grand chateau which has been miserably +plundered; but more particularly that the +English troops now quartered in the village have +stripped the lead off the roofs, from the baths, +water-pipes, &c. &c., and sold it. This is, as nearly +as I remember, the petition. A note written with a +pencil by the Duke himself on the margin was +too brief and pithy not to be remembered, and +here it is, <i lang="la">verbatim</i>: “Colonel Scovell will find +out whose troop this is, and they shall pay.—W.” +I was thunderstruck at the complaint and the +decision—the one so unfounded, the other so +cruelly unjust. I signed an acknowledgment of +having seen the order; and the officer took his +leave, recommending me to try and compromise +with M. Fauigny, who stated the damage at about +7000 or 8000 francs. Upon inquiry of M. Bonnemain, +he asserts that this M. Fauigny is the +agent of Jerome Buonaparte, to whom the chateau<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_186"></a>[186]</span> +actually belongs, as we were told by the Prussians +who plundered it.</p> + +<p>The next morning I had just ordered my horse, +and was about to set off for Paris, when William +announced a gentleman who wished to see me; +and a rather genteel-looking man sailed into my +little parlour with an air of <i lang="fr">nonchalance</i> and easy +familiarity quite amusing. My friend seated himself +with the utmost coolness, and drawing out +his snuffy pocket-handkerchief, displaying it—whilst +he spat all about the floor, to my utter disgust, +for I had been in the act of finishing my +breakfast—informed me with a slight inclination +that he was M. Fauigny, and had called to know +when it would be convenient to settle this <em>leaden +accompt</em>. Finding him already acquainted with +the Duke’s order, I was obliged to make the best +of it and put him off with excuses, which he did +not seem to relish, having evidently counted on +touching the cash forthwith. However, the man +behaved like a gentleman, kept his disappointment +to himself, and turning the conversation on +general subjects, proved himself a man of very +general information and a most agreeable companion. +Although he would not partake of my +breakfast, he paid a very long visit; and the +moment he was gone, I set off also for Paris, and<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_187"></a>[187]</span> +went straight to Sir George Wood’s quarters in +the Rue de Richelieu. From Sir George I learned +that the affair was much more serious than I had +imagined. The Duke is furious about it, and Sir +George says my only chance is by evading payment +as long as I can, in hopes some favourable +opportunity may offer of inducing the Duke to +think more leniently on the subject; in the +mean time, to make every inquiry into the truth +of the statement. Accordingly, we have been +at work, and the result is a discovery that M. +Fauigny is a villain—has made a false statement +to the Duke in hopes of gaining payment from +us for what has been actually done by others, +but from whom he knew nothing could be recovered. +The villagers themselves have informed +me how the thing happened, and have denounced +one of their own body as the robber, for the lead +has in reality been stolen, as set forth in the petition, +only not by us.<a id="FNanchor_20" href="#Footnote_20" class="fnanchor">[20]</a> M. Plé is <i lang="fr">couvreur</i> by +trade, and did precisely the same thing last year +when the village was occupied by a Russian<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_188"></a>[188]</span> +corps, against which a charge similar to the one +against us was brought, but not with the same success. +Their General did not condemn his people +unheard like the Duke of Wellington. However, +having gained this piece of intelligence, I set off +to St Denis, and stated the whole affair to the +chief of the police, who smiled, and anticipated +me by himself mentioning M. Plé as a culprit +and an old acquaintance, adding that he would +lose no time in sifting the business thoroughly. +A <i lang="fr">procès verbal</i> was drawn up, and I took my +departure, well pleased with the politeness and +urbanity of the French civil authorities.</p> + +<p>Two <i lang="fr">gens-d’armes</i> were despatched to arrest +M. Plé and search his premises. A day or two +afterwards, I received a note requesting my attendance +at the police the next morning at eleven +o’clock. Thither I went, and was met at the +door by M. le Chef, who addressed me with a +smile and an assurance that the lead was secured. +Accordingly in the office stood M. Plé between +two sentinels, and on the floor lay several enormous +rolls of lead. This was only a part of the +plunder, the rest having already been sold. In +short, with admirable dexterity and perseverance, +they followed up the business, and finally ascertained +beyond a doubt that M. Plé was the thief,<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_189"></a>[189]</span> +both now and last year; but although there is +some suspicion of collusion between him and M. +Fauigny, nothing has been brought out that +throws any light on it. I don’t think he seems +known to our villagers, as one would suppose the +agent ought to be. M. Plé is lodged in some +prison in Paris, but I have no idea what eventually +will become of him. The exposure of the +affair has not in the least altered my position with +the Duke of Wellington, for none dare tell him +the story; and even Sir Edward Barnes, who +kindly undertook it, met with a most ungracious +rebuff, as he himself told Sir G. Wood. Meanwhile +M. Fauigny continues to pay me an occasional +visit. Sometimes I see the scoundrel <i lang="fr">par +nécessité</i>, but always keep out of his way if I can. +Knowing, as he does, the Duke’s humour, he +continues dunning me with most unblushing +effrontery for payment.</p> + +<p>Were it not for these complaints, and most +particularly this horrible affair of the lead, I could +be happy enough here. I am getting quite reconciled +to my house and to the village, and +getting acquainted with the people, who have +pretty well put things to rights again. Old +Bonnemain I find quite manageable and very +useful. Another ally has turned up in the person<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_190"></a>[190]</span> +of the <i lang="fr">garde champêtre</i>, who has at last +ventured back and resumed the insignia of office. +A very different character this from Petit Jean of +Strytem; fat, pursy, stupid, dressed in shabby +plain clothes, with a broad embroidered belt over +his shoulder, altogether looking like a rat-catcher, +for which I at first mistook him.</p> + +<p>Moreover, to be completely on a peace-establishment, +our village church has been reopened, +and mass is now regularly celebrated there. The +curé fled with the rest at our approach; but, +unlike them, has never returned to his lair, and +for some time the church remained closed. The +other morning, shaving with the windows open +towards the garden, I was astonished at hearing +a most stentorian voice chanting in the church, +which is not far from my garden-wall; and as +nothing does or ought to take place without my +knowledge, William was forthwith despatched to +ascertain what was going on. In a few minutes +he returned accompanied by M. Bonnemain, who, +with his usual profusion of bows, commenced a +most humble apology for the step he had taken +without first obtaining my permission, which, +however, he trusted would not on that account be +withheld. He had sent to Pierrefitte (a neighbouring +village) and engaged M. le Curé, a most<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_191"></a>[191]</span> +worthy and exemplary man, to come over and +“<span lang="fr">faire la messe;</span>” and further, provided it met +the approbation of M. le Commandant, and was +no disturbance to him, he had engaged M. le Curé +to come over every morning. So we have had +mass ever since, and my morning shave is regularly +accompanied by the bass, nasal chant of +M. le Curé performing <i lang="fr">l’office</i> to about a dozen old +women; for, sometimes when I have been earlier +and gone in, I have never found any other congregation. +Yesterday (Sunday) it was more +numerous, for then the girls go; but I am uncharitable +enough to believe only to exhibit their +finery. Even on that day very few men attended; +indeed, throughout, since we entered France, we +have found religion at a very low ebb: the +churches always thinly attended, and principally +by women; the Sabbath observed, if at all, only +as a holiday, apparently totally unconnected with +any religious idea; shops everywhere open; and +agricultural labours, as well as every other kind, +going on as usual, unless people choose to rest and +make a holiday of it.</p> + +<p>In looking back at this journal (if so we may +term what is written by fits and starts, as an +otherwise idle day occurs), I find omitted altogether +the review of the Prussian army, which<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_192"></a>[192]</span> +took place some days ago in the Place Louis Quinze +as usual, only in this case the line was formed +along the Boulevard, and the column entered the +place by the Rue Royale. I have neglected this +so long, that I remember few particulars of the +review. The troops looked well, their equipment +appeared good, the men young, active, and +well drilled, countenances full of animation, and +apparently proud of being soldiers; cavalry well +mounted, and the cuirassiers wore black cuirasses, +instead of polished ones like the French. The +crowd was as great as when we were reviewed, +and the ground was kept by a parcel of wild-looking +Cossacks in blue frocks and very shabby-looking +horses and appointments—<i lang="fr">voilà tout!</i> +But there was one occurrence at that review that +I shall never forget. The Cossacks were under +an old chieftain, evidently of high rank, whom +I understood to be no less a person than their +Hettman Platov, besides whom several Russian +general officers rode about giving directions to +the Cossacks.</p> + +<p>It was with some difficulty that I made my +way through the crowd and gained a front place, +not far from the <i lang="fr">debouchement</i> of the Rue Royale. +The only military man near me was a proud-looking +Russian officer, who, from his large<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_193"></a>[193]</span> +epaulettes and numerous decorations, I took to +be a man of some consequence, and, from the +sidelong glances at my plain and rather shabby +pelisse, somewhat annoyed at my near neighbourhood. +We were, however, knee to knee, +and, <i lang="fr">bongré malgré</i>, destined to keep company, +for the throng was too dense to admit of changing +place; and so, as it fluctuated backward +and forward, we were forced to advance or +retire like files of the same squadron. The Cossacks +were very actively employed with their +long lances keeping us all back, but still the +crowd continually pushed us forward until we +were sometimes almost in the ranks of the advancing +column. At length, tired of his ineffectual +attempts at restraining us within bounds, the +Cossack who was our immediate sentry made an +angry complaint to one of the general officers, +and, from pointing our way, evidently particularised +me and my neighbour. The general, +flying into a passion, first looked thunder and +lightning at us, and then, cane in air, rushed to +the charge. It will readily be imagined that the +ferocious gestures meant to drive us from the +field only roused my John Bullism, and caused +me to assume an air of defiance. Not so my +superb neighbour; on him it had full effect. He<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_194"></a>[194]</span> +looked intimidated, reined back his horse, and, +turning, endeavoured to push through the crowd +and make his escape, leaving me to bear the +brunt of the attack. The general, however, +knew his game; so, passing me with a scowl +which I smiled at, and a grumble which I did +not understand, he pursued my friend with uplifted +cane, which every moment I expected to +see descend on his back. The scene was the +most degrading I had ever witnessed—an officer +in full uniform, his breast covered with decorations, +actually bending low on his horse’s neck +and making a back to receive a caning, whilst +with upturned face his looks seemed abjectly +craving mercy. I wonder what the French +thought of it. I blushed for the cloth, and most +sincerely congratulated myself on being an Englishman. +The chase continued until the discomfited +hero was fairly driven from the field, when +his bully returned fuming and chafing and looking +very fierce, and apparently very much vexed +at the insolent indifference with which I purposely +surveyed him.</p> + +<p>Being on the subject of reviews, I may as +well note here one that took place yesterday, +which I have just heard of, but did not see. +It seems that we have been the <i lang="la">rara aves</i> of<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_195"></a>[195]</span> +the day ever since our review. The rapidity +of our movements, close-wheeling, perfection +of our equipment, &c. &c., excited universal +astonishment and admiration. The consequence +of this was an application to the Duke for a +closer inspection, which he most magnanimously +granted, and ordered Ross’s troop out for that +purpose. They paraded in the fields near Clichy. +The reviewers, I understand, were <i lang="fr">maréchaux +de France</i>; but there was also a great +concourse of officers of all nations. After the +manœuvres the troop was dismounted, and a +most deliberate inspection of ammunition, and +even of the men’s kits, appointments, shoeing, +construction of carriages, &c. &c., took place. I +believe they were equally astonished and pleased +with what they saw, and, as there were several +among them taking notes, have no doubt that +we shall soon see improvements introduced into +the Continental artillery.</p> + +<p>Paris, and the country for leagues round, form +one immense garrison. The Prussians have their +headquarters at St Cloud, where Prince Blucher +occupies the palace. Their army occupies all the +country west of Paris—Versailles, Sêvres, Bellevue, +&c., and round to the southward as far as +Charenton. In Paris they occupy the arsenal,<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_196"></a>[196]</span> +and at first had a bivouac of infantry in the Place +du Carrousel, and of light cavalry in the Champs +Elysées, both of which have since been withdrawn +and sent somewhere into quarters. They also +had infantry in bivouac in the Jardin du Luxembourg, +Place Royale. I do not know whether +they are withdrawn yet or not. Our headquarters +are at the Elysée Bourbon; and our cantonments, +commencing at Suresnes, extend along +both banks of the Seine to Argenteuil and St +Germain en Laye, all round the north side of +Paris to the heights of Belleville. The greater +part of our cavalry is, I believe, on the left bank +of the Seine. The Life Guards, Blues, &c., are at +Nanterre, Rueil, &c.; hussars at Suresnes, Puteaux, +&c., and Gardiner’s (Sir Robert) troop of horse-artillery. +This last is, I think, quartered on the +Duc de Feltre (Clerk). The 12th, and another +light dragoon regiment, at Courbevoie, in the fine +barracks. Infantry at Anières, Villeneuve, and +Genevilliers. Colombes—my old troop, Bull’s, +and M’Donald’s. Bezons—the rocket-troop. +Neuilly—two troops of Hanoverian horse-artillery. +St Ouen—Brunswick cavalry and infantry; +some in the village, some in bivouac. Epinay—pontoon-train. +Pierrefitte—waggon-train. St +Denis—commissariat magazines, &c., two regiments<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_197"></a>[197]</span> +of English infantry (64th one of them), a +brigade of 18-pounders, and Sir H. Ross’s troop<a id="FNanchor_21" href="#Footnote_21" class="fnanchor">[21]</a> +of horse-artillery. Malmaison—cavalry headquarters. +I think there are cavalry at Marly, St +Germain en Laye, &c. &c. Stain—my troop;<a id="FNanchor_21a" href="#Footnote_21" class="fnanchor">[21]</a> +communication kept open by the bridge of Neuilly, +and pontoon-bridges at Argenteuil and +Anières. Clichy, Courcelles, and Villiers—the +fifth division, partly in camp, partly in quarters. +Bois de Boulogne—infantry, encamped. Passy—English +artillery. Rue Poissonnière—a regiment +of English infantry in the barrack. La Chapelle—Hanoverian +dragoons and a brigade of 18-pounders. +Montmartre—English infantry. Clignancour—21st +Regiment of do. Faubourg de +Montmartre—English infantry. Faubourg de +Clichy—Rifles. Chaussée d’Antin—Foot Guards. +Vertus, or Aubervilliers—English infantry and +Major Morrison’s 9-pounder brigade. Gonesse—English +infantry and artillery. Chenevrière—do. +do. do. Luzarches, and along the line of road +to Chantilly—Belgic contingent. Dugny—Staff corps. +Garges, <ins class="corr" id="tn-197" title="Transcriber’s Note—Original text: 'Arnonville'"> +Arnouville</ins>, &c.—Nassau troops. +Headquarters of our artillery, Rue de Richelieu. +Belleville and the neighbourhood is occupied by +Russian infantry. Abattoirs de Montmartre (the<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_198"></a>[198]</span> +barrack at)—a regiment of cuirassiers, in white, +with black cuirasses; I think they are Russian—not +sure. Faubourg St Denis—Austrian or Hungarian +infantry. The Emperor of Austria lives +on the Boulevard (I think des Italiens). The +Emperor of Russia and King of Prussia I know +not where; but the Hetman Platoff (as well as +our Colonel Sir A. Fraser) lives at the Hotel du +Nord, Rue de Richelieu, where his guard of wild-looking +Cossacks, with their little shabby horses +picketed in the court, furnish gape-seed for the +<i lang="fr">badauds</i>, a crowd of whom are continually at the +gate. It is a singular spectacle to see the public +places in town all doubly guarded—a French and +an English or Prussian sentry. When I ride into +Paris by the Barrière de Clichy, as I generally do +(that way being so much pleasanter than passing +through La Chapelle and Faubourg St Denis), I +am at once amused and interested at seeing the +two sentries soberly pacing backward and forward, +opposite each other, one on each side of the street. +As I draw near they simultaneously front and +pay the usual compliment (there is something +piquant in receiving a salute from a French soldier), +each after his own fashion. There they +stand; on the one side a tall handsome fellow, +with a fair face and prim shopkeeper-like air,<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_199"></a>[199]</span> +with his high fur cap and trim uniform, almost +speck and span new; the other, a shorter but +more sturdy figure, bronzed visage, and jacket of +brick-dust red, marked in various places with +bivouac stains, and faded from exposure to sun +and rain, but with arms and accoutrements in far +better order than those of his smart neighbour. +On first taking possession of Paris, the Prussians +posted one or two field-pieces at each of the +bridges, with a guard of infantry. These guns +were kept constantly loaded, and slow-match +lighted. Latterly they have been withdrawn; but +we still have guards at every public building—such +as the Louvre, Palais Royal, &c. These +are generally English.</p> + +<p>Yesterday I made a most interesting excursion +over all the scene of last year’s battles,—the plain +of St Denis, Vertus, the heights of Belleville, +Montmartre, &c. Independent of historical associations, +these heights are extremely interesting, +from the fine commanding views they afford; but +particularly in a geological point of view. Rising +abruptly to the height of some hundred feet from +the (almost level) Plain de St Denis, their appearance +is very remarkable as we approach by +the great northern road to La Chapelle, almost +everywhere terminating in lofty white precipices<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_200"></a>[200]</span> +of gypsum (or sulphate of lime)—hence called +plaster of Paris. Montmartre appears once to +have been a continuation of the heights of Belleville, +from the similarity of the gypsum cliffs +opposite to each other. It is now isolated, and, +with its precipitous terminations and crest covered +with windmills, forms a very remarkable +object from the plain below. These windmills +are principally on the end over Clichy; towards +the other is the celebrated telegraph—known by +fame to all Europe—whence were transmitted at +various periods orders for the invasion of Italy, +Austria, Russia, Prussia, and Belgium, and by +which Paris was so often roused to the boiling-point +of vanity when it brought intelligence of +Jena, Wagram, &c. But <i lang="fr">revenons à nos moutons</i>. +The heights are separated by a narrow gorge, in +which, under the cliffs of Montmartre, is a small +hillock<a id="FNanchor_22" href="#Footnote_22" class="fnanchor">[22]</a> (Mamelon), crowned by three windmills, +which appears to have been formed by detritus +from above. The dome of St Genevieve seen +through this gorge gave us the first notice of the +French capital the evening we arrived at Garges.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_201"></a>[201]</span></p> + +<p>The intermediate part of Montmartre, though +not precipitous, descends by a very rapid slope +towards the plain. About midway of the descent +is the pretty village of Clignancour, the houses +of which, having their first floor on a level with +the ground behind, command from their windows +and balconies a most extensive and pleasing +view over the country below, and are delightfully +intermingled with shrubberies and gardens. The +descent towards Paris is less steep, and is covered +all the way with the suburb of Montmartre. The +whole summit is enclosed by Buonaparte’s celebrated, +but, as it has turned out, useless lines, +erected last year for the defence of the metropolis. +Of these I need say little, as I know they are +surveying by our engineers, who will no doubt +give us a detailed account of them—a piece of +slavery which I am not at all disposed to engage +in. All I can say of them is that, considering +the hurried manner in which the work has been +done, they are very creditable—that they cover +all the ground in front with their fire—and that a +tremendous concentration of fire, direct and flanking, +commands every important point. They are +continued partially across the gorge, the bank of +the Canal de l’Ourcq, and fully up the opposite +heights of Belleville. They may, however, be<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_202"></a>[202]</span> +easily turned on either flank. The gorge is occupied +by the humble and uninteresting suburb of +La Chapelle. The heights of Belleville are extremely +pretty, being almost covered with a succession +of cheerful and sometimes elegant villas, +gardens, shrubberies, vineyards, and the village. +I envied the Russians such pretty quarters; yet +they would be just as well pleased here as there, +perhaps. From these heights I got a peep at +Vincennes, with its park, chateau, and tower, on +which the Lilies of France have at last replaced +the Tricolor. The governor (<i lang="fr">un vieux moustache</i>, +with one leg) refused for a long time to surrender; +and the sovereigns, out of respect for the old +man, did not insist; but after a time he grew +insolent, and I understand either did or threatened +to fire at some officers who went too near his +stronghold. This was too much, and preparations +were making to reduce him when he was fortunately +persuaded to surrender. Having rambled +about until I had seen all worth seeing, and got +an omelet in one of the <i lang="fr">ginguettes</i>, or whatever +they call them, I descended from the heights of +Belleville, and crossing the fields (all without +hedges here), and the great road to Soissons, made +straight for Vertus. As far as the road to Soissons, +the number of gardens, with summer-houses<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_203"></a>[203]</span> +perched on one angle of the enclosing wall, thick +shrubberies, and the fine umbrageous avenue +which the road itself with its quadruple rows of +elms presents, made the country interesting in +spite of its flatness; but beyond, when one comes +on what may more strictly be termed the plain +of St Denis, there is no redeeming point—it is +a vast extent of monotonous corn-field, unrelieved +by tree or shrub, and only broken by the buildings +of the village of Vertus and the elevated +bank of the Canal de l’Ourcq. The great road to +Compiègne, which crosses this plain from La +Chapelle to St Denis, once had its trees also; but +they were cut down, I think, last year; and the +only objects one now sees along this dreary line +are a mile (or a league) stone on the left going +to town, and a cross or Bon Dieu on the right. +Young trees have been planted along part of the +line, but at present they are mere sticks. Met +Major Morrison in Vertus; his 9-pounder brigade +is stationed there, together with a regiment of +infantry. By the way, the name of that place +is Aubervilliers, or Nôtre Dame des Vertus, but +one never hears any more of its name than the +last word—so that it is Vertus <i lang="fr">par excellence</i>, and +all the rest is superfluity.</p> + +<p>I have had a long scribble this morning; so<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_204"></a>[204]</span> +now, having jotted down nearly everything to +the present date, I have a right to go and idle a +bit with the girls. This is a lounge of which I +have as yet said nothing, because I thought it +commonplace; hereafter, however, it will be interesting +to look back and see as in a picture all +that is now transacting—<i lang="fr">allons donc!</i> Through +the middle of our village runs a little sluggish +rivulet, very like that at Garges. On the banks +of this, every fine day, may be seen assembled the +scraggy-necked dames and black-eyed nymphs of +the village, all pretty much alike in costume—that +is, arms bare, stays loosely laced, and petticoat +of <i lang="fr">siamoise</i>, with the eternal blue stockings +and wooden shoes; each has her bundle of linen, +her heavy bat, and generally a bit of board to kneel +on. Here, then, kneeling in a line along the banks +of soapy waters, they laugh, chatter, and sing; +whilst the bat incessantly goes slap, slap, slap. Just +where the street leading to St Denis joins ours, +in the centre of the village, a bridge of very humble +dimensions spans the stream, on the parapet of +which I have established my divan; and thither I +repair to smoke my weed and enjoy a little badinage +with the fair daughters of Stain—to gain a +little information from their wrinkled mothers. +Amongst our village maidens there are several<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_205"></a>[205]</span> +exceedingly pretty—some one or two would be +beautiful, were not their feminine <em>delicacy</em> (perhaps +the word may be used morally as well as +physically) much injured by their being constantly +employed in the fields, which cannot but +make their persons coarse. There is one exception +to this, however, in Josephine Chamont, who +is really a beautifully-delicate, lady-like girl; but +then she does not go to the fields. Angélique, +on the contrary, is as fine a woman as ever I +saw; she is about twenty—a perfect Juno—tall, +erect, with a beautiful countenance and splendid +black eyes; she walks like a queen. When our +invasion was expected, the women of the commune +formed themselves into an amazonian regiment, +and Angélique was their sergeant-major.—But +I must to the bridge.</p> + +<p>M. Fauigny paid me a visit this morning: I +did not see him.</p> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"></div> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_206"></a>[206]</span></p> + +<h2 class="p4 nobreak" id="CHAPTER_XXI">CHAPTER XXI.</h2> + +<p class="noindent"><i>August 1st.</i>—Our fine weather still continues—with +the exception of one or two days, we have +scarcely had any rain since we arrived here. Our +army is breaking up from hence and going into +Normandy. Some of our troops of horse-artillery +marched the day before yesterday, and yesterday +some regiments of cavalry. The infantry are also +preparing for their departure. Ross’s troop and +mine, belonging to the reserve, are to remain in the +neighbourhood of Paris. This appearance of peace +has, I suppose, induced the Beguines, or Sœurs +de la Charité, to return to the village, much to +our annoyance; for their house is the one in which +we mess, and where Ambrose and Maunsell live. +Five of the sisterhood called on me this morning +for the purpose of obtaining the restoration of +their house, and permission to return and inhabit +it. I was at breakfast, but these good dames<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_207"></a>[207]</span> +would take no refusal, and William was obliged +to show them up. My little room was crammed.</p> + +<p>I have always up to this date associated most +inseparably in my mind youth and beauty with +the term nun. It was, therefore, not without some +trifling emotion that I awaited the five nuns +whom William had announced, and heard them +bustling along the narrow bricked passage leading +from the head of the stairs to my room. +Such being the case, it may easily be imagined that +it was not without disappointment I saw entering, +one after another, four ugly old women, in +shabby black dresses, and at the same time became +sensible of a very unpleasant odour accompanying +the ladies. All this was enough; and, in the +politest manner possible, I hastened to meet their +wishes as soon as known, in order to get rid of +them. Here I reckoned without my host. The +good dames found my politeness so winning, that +they were in no hurry to move, nor did they +until they had inflicted on me the whole history +of their adventures and sufferings from the first invasion +by the Allies last year down to last night. +When, at length, they did depart, I thought I could +never sufficiently inhale the fresh air of heaven.</p> + +<p>Having got rid of the ladies, after visiting the +parade (which we hold in the park of the great<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_208"></a>[208]</span> +chateau), I rode to St Ouen and Clichy. In the +last and neighbourhood our fifth division is quartered, +and I was astonished to see the Prussian-like +manner in which the place is occupied. One +very handsome villa I visited had its pretty +pleasure-ground trampled and spoiled as much as +the chateau at Stain; and, to my surprise, in the +house I found two formerly splendid <i lang="fr">salons</i> converted +into stables, and actually occupied by officers’ +horses. I don’t know what the Duke will +say when he comes to know this. The neighbourhood +of Clichy is pretty—all villas and gardens, &c.</p> + +<p><i>August 2d.</i>—Another beautiful day. More +regiments marching towards Normandy. In consequence +of the return of our nuns, we moved +our mess establishment to-day into the Petit +chateau, having prepared and made as comfortable +as circumstances would admit the grand +<i lang="fr">salon</i> in the centre of the front. This is a very fine +room with a boarded floor in little squares (<i lang="fr">parquet</i>), +which looks very well, but is very creaky, +as all these floors are. We collected what chairs +were still serviceable as seats, and as they were +few, the wheeler patched up others; a table was +a more difficult article to procure; the floor +served as a sideboard. There being no glass in +the window, we are obliged to make the venetians<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_209"></a>[209]</span> +(which fortunately are unbroken) answer, lowering +those to windward when the air is too much. +We are raised about six feet above the lawn, and +two winding flights of steps afford the means of +descending from the windows of the bowed front +to the turf below. Fatigue-parties have been +employed all yesterday and this morning clearing +the lawn of the fragments of furniture, rags +of curtains, torn books, and broken glass, that +encumbered and disfigured it—so that now our +domain looks decent, and we have actually wondered +we could stay so long in the gloomy old +house we have left. By way of a house-warming +I gave my champagne on promotion, and we have +had a merry evening, without excess, or I should +not be able to write this.</p> + +<p><i>3d.</i>—No headache this morning; our champagne +was excellent and very cheap. In England +we should pay from 10s. to 15s. per bottle. +This cost me precisely 5 francs, or 4s. 2d., a bottle—some +little difference. But to my journal. Rode +to Paris, and as usual put up Cossack at a stable +I have discovered in Rue de Malle, just by the +Place du Carrousel, consequently very convenient. +When I arrived, there were several people in the +stable, who gathered round me and Cossack, asking +with apparent curiosity if he was in the<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_210"></a>[210]</span> +battle of Mont St Jean. I told them Yes, and +all about his eight wounds—the scars of which +were visible enough. This seemed to excite great +interest; and I walked off, leaving them assembled +round the fellow’s stall, having first, however, +warned them of his heels. The Palais Royal, +Rue Vivienne, and Boulevard were the scenes of +my promenade. The first I have spoken of before, +and hope to do so again; the second is a kind +of Bond Street, leading straight away from the +northern entrance of the Palais Royal. Like +Bond Street, it is narrow—so narrow, indeed, +that the London street becomes broad by comparison, +and is infinitely its superior in the convenient +<i lang="fr">trottoir</i> which the Rue Vivienne totally +wants. In short, in London this narrow, badly-paved +avenue, with its gutter down the centre, +would only rank as a lane. Here is to be +seen all the beauty and fashion of Paris; for here, +as in Bond Street, are all the fashionable shops. +If some of those under the arcades of the Palais +Royal are more splendid, the articles in these are +more substantially rich and good. But the Boulevard +is the great point of attraction for me, and +there I passed this morning, until it was time to +return here before dark, lounging from the Rue +Royale to the Boulevard du Temple and back<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_211"></a>[211]</span> +again, with an occasional turn down the Rue de +Richelieu, or the Passage des Panorama and +Feydeau, into the Rue Vivienne and Palais +Royal. The Boulevards (for there are many, +every few hundred yards having a different designation) +form a sort of circular road round +what once was Paris, separating it from the +Faubourgs, now forming part of the great whole; +and these Boulevards form a street about as broad +as Oxford Street, perhaps broader. This, without +excepting the Palais Royal, is the most amusing +part of Paris. The houses along this +immense avenue are neither regular nor uniformly +handsome, but high and low, rich and +poor, wood and stone—from the cottage to the +palace. A broad footway (not a paved <i lang="fr">trottoir</i>) +next the houses is in many parts shaded by rows +of lime-trees, and separated from the road by a +shabby wooden railing. The road is incessantly +thronged with carts, fiacres, cabriolets, private +equipages, and horsemen; every now and then a +detachment of <i lang="fr">gens-d’armes</i> is seen urging their +way soberly through the crowd. This forms a +lively and amusing scene enough, particularly +just now, from the contrast between numerous +well-appointed English equipages and the clumsy +vehicles and tinsel finery of the native. But it is<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_212"></a>[212]</span> +in the footway one finds the greatest source of +amusement, and most food for philosophical contemplation. +Here one meets promenaders or passengers +in every variety of European, and even some +Asiatic, costumes. Some, you may know by their +lounging gait, are employed only in killing time +and dispelling <i lang="fr">ennui</i>; others, bustling from shop +to shop and from table to table, are people whose +money burns in their pockets, and their amusement +consists in getting rid of it as quickly as +possible for articles utterly useless to them, and +which, laid aside to-morrow, will quickly be forgotten. +Again, a third, and by far the most +numerous class one sees here, have a directly +contrary employment to the last—they are people +whose pockets burn to have money in them; and +accordingly here, in this great thoroughfare, we +find them resorting to all sorts, even the most +ludicrous, the vilest, and the most degrading +means of obtaining their end. Here tables innumerable +are set out under the trees covered +with all sorts of cheap articles—toys, perfumery, +cutlery, combs, and articles in horn, bone, wood, +metal, glass—every thing and every article upon +each table of the same price. In passing along, +one is deafened by the incessant and rapid vociferations +of these dealers enumerating the various<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_213"></a>[213]</span> +articles upon their tables, eulogising them in the +most ridiculous terms, and announcing their +price: “<span lang="fr">Dix sols pour chacun!—dix sols, dix sols—dix +sols seulement, messieurs!</span>” Then there are +jugglers, mountebanks, and importunate beggars. +My great torment in the Boulevard is a little +wretch of a girl, about ten or twelve years old, +whose ostensible business is the sale of toothpicks, +but in reality is begging. This little animal +fixes herself on one with the tenacity of a +leech—running by one’s side, occasionally holding +up the articles of her pretended trade, and unceasingly +plying her song: “<span lang="fr">Ah, monsieur! cure-dents, +monsieur? En voulez-vous, monsieur? +deux sols, monsieur! Ah, monsieur! le pauvre +père, monsieur; il est malade, monsieur!</span>” and +then, when she becomes convinced of the inutility +of perseverance, suddenly stopping and entering +into an indifferent, perhaps merry, confab with +some chum, and again starting after some other +likely-looking customer. She frequently follows +me from her stand, which is at the end of the +Rue de Richelieu, to the Rue de la Paix. Other +characters there are of different descriptions, +and many of them forming a feature in this +motley and daily crowd. Amongst these I have +particularly noticed an old man, with long grey<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_214"></a>[214]</span> +locks flowing in a most picturesque style over his +back and shoulders, strumming a cracked guitar; +and a female, somewhat advanced in years, dressed +in shabby old finery, her faded charms partially +concealed under a rusty-black veil, who attempts +to excite interest in and extract metal from the +passengers by warbling a pathetic love-song in a +most ominously husky voice. A little farther, a +proud and stately Mohammedan, in full Turkish +costume, offers for sale I know not what, and +evinces much indignation at the itinerant sausage-vendor, +who pushes steadily through the crowd, +the fiery brasier suspended before him by a strap +passing round his neck, everywhere opening for +him a free passage. Over the brasier a square pan +contains the savoury-smelling, hissing sausages, +which as they fry he is able, from having his +hands at liberty, to keep turning, or to serve out +to customers and receive their sols in return. +The steaming pan has frequently made my mouth +water, and I give no credit to the fierce and +angry look of our stately Turk when startled by +his near and unexpected approach. I’d wager a +sol did they but encounter in some obscure passage +he would himself become a customer to the +Giaour’s polluted pan.</p> + +<p>At the angle formed by the Boulevards du<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_215"></a>[215]</span> +Temple and St Martin, and opposite to the beautiful +Fontaine de Boudi or des Lions, in a snug +recess formed by a break in the line of building, +may daily be seen a table, covered with a cloth +scrupulously white, on which are arranged sundry +piles of a peculiarly inviting <i lang="fr">gâteau</i>. This +table is constantly surrounded by a certain description +of young men, whose bronzed features, +mustachioed lips, and confident, insolent stare, +denote the <i lang="fr">militaire en retraite</i>, or half-pay officer. +Here the presiding goddess is a comely dame of +some forty years standing, a little inclined to +<i lang="fr">embonpoint</i>, with a bold masculine countenance +embrowned by constant exposure, but yet having +strong claim to a certain description of beauty, +which she understood how to enhance by the tasteful +and coquettish arrangement of her blue <i lang="fr">cornette</i> +and a studied neatness in every other part +of her dress. With her customers this fair dame +carries on a conversation animated and somewhat +free, if she likes them; but Englishmen are by no +means favourites. This portrait will be readily +recognised by those to whom the Boulevard St +Martin is familiar. The immense number of +tables spread with books, as well as little sheds +for the sale of the same—and their cheapness, +are quite astonishing. I may say the same of<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_216"></a>[216]</span> +engravings, many of them really good. Equally +astonishing is the open and barefaced display, +in these stalls, &c., of the most licentious works, +and pictures of the most indecent kind. Although +the best shops are certainly in the Rue +Vivienne, &c., yet are there many very splendid +ones along the Boulevards, particularly the +Boulevard des Italiens. Here are also some +good restaurants and cafés; and, amongst other +ornamental buildings, the Bains Chinois. Amid +all these, however, there is a characteristic eye-sore +which strikes one as quite incongruous: I +allude to the intervention of shabby wooden +sheds amongst goodly shops and houses. Besides +the book-stalls just spoken of, one sees every here +and there a long, low, mean-looking shed, its +front almost all window. This is a news-room, +where, for a few sols, you may read all the daily +journals published in Paris, if you have patience +to wait until they be disengaged, for these places +are generally full; and I often amuse myself by +stopping before the broad windows, always open +just now, and contemplating the line of odd +figures—some spectacled, others (from the manner +of holding the little—after our own—minikin +<i lang="fr">feuille</i> at arm’s-length) who evidently ought to be; +and all absorbed in the meagre nonsense which<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_217"></a>[217]</span> +every one of these papers I have looked into contains: +a number of people may commonly be seen +in attendance awaiting their turn. The fellows +who keep these sheds must make a mint of money. +Another feature not confined to the Boulevards, +but common to all the public gardens and places +of general resort, is the numbers of well-dressed +and often dandified loungers on chairs, and the +piles of these against the trees. To us at first it was +a novelty seeing groups of people seated on chairs +in the open street; but I have now got accustomed +to it, and even to appreciate the luxury myself. +These chairs, which are of the plainest kind, form +the stock-in-trade, and furnish the livelihood, of +many a poor old man or woman, who otherwise +could do nothing to support themselves; and, <i lang="fr">en +passant</i>, I should note the admirable address with +which I have seen these people turn the wants of +human nature to account. On a rainy day some +sally out with a common oil-skin umbrella, which +is offered to the first unfortunate wight caught out +in a hat or coat likely to suffer. Others, providing +themselves with a thick plank, repair to some +great thoroughfare where they know there is an insufficient +gutter that will overflow—and this may +be everywhere. The plank, laid over the rushing +stream of black water, is paid for by those who are<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_218"></a>[218]</span> +generous by a sol or two, thus verifying the saying, +It is an ill wind that blows nobody good.</p> + +<p>The hire of a chair per hour is a mere trifle—a +sol or two; and thence it is, I suppose, that +a Parisian exquisite seems to think it degrading +to occupy only one. Two or three is the +common run; but I saw one gentleman this +morning who actually occupied five whole +chairs. He had chosen an excellent position to +be seen, on the Boulevard des Italiens, just +by Hardi’s, whither I was bound to get some +dinner. One chair sustained the main body, another +the right leg, a third the left, a fourth +afforded a rest for the left arm, whilst the fifth, +bearing gloves, <i lang="fr">mouchoir</i>, and <i lang="fr">canne à pomme +d’or</i>, stood conveniently by his right. The self-satisfied +air with which this exquisite scrutinised +with his <i lang="fr">lorgnette</i> the passers-by, was not the +least amusing part of this entertaining microcosm. +Cogitating on the various means used by mankind +to court or win admiration from their fellow-men, +I mounted the steps in front of Hardi’s, and entered +the airy, nicely-furnished <i lang="fr">salle à manger</i>. +“<span lang="fr">Garçon! la carte!</span>” I cried, throwing myself +into a seat near the window, the table by which +appeared unoccupied. There is about as much +difference between one of our dark close coffee-rooms<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_219"></a>[219]</span> +in London and the <i lang="fr">salle à manger</i> of a +Parisian restaurateur (at least Hardi’s or Very’s), +as there is between a tallow-chandler’s back +parlour in St Martin’s Lane and Lady B.’s beautiful +drawing-room in Park Lane. Here are no +closely-shut-up boxes, with their green curtains, +&c.; all is open, airy, and cheerful. Small tables +(just sufficiently large to dine four people) +stand about the room covered with snow-white +table-cloths, napkins, and silver forks; and +instead of the dingy smoked walls of a London +coffee-house, and windows so covered with dust +that the panes of glass, although translucent, +are not transparent, here the walls, covered with +a gay painted paper, have an air of cheerfulness +quite indescribable, especially when connected +with the moving, lively scene without, of which +the constantly open door and windows afford an +uninterrupted view. In looking on the scene +below, the continuous lines of trees give such a +rustic appearance to the whole, that it is difficult +to imagine one’s self in the very heart of a great +capital. To me the Boulevard had more the +style of Lewisham or Clapham, or some of those +“<i lang="la">rus in urbe</i>” sort of places so numerous in the +vicinity of London. It seems bells are not in use +at these places, and calling out or making a noise<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_220"></a>[220]</span> +is vulgar. Therefore, instead of the constantly +reiterated “Waiter! waiter!” a sort of masonic +signal has been invented to call the attention of +the attendants. I began at my first visit to Hardi’s +as I would have done in England, and summoned +the garçon <i lang="la">viva voce</i>; but I soon discovered by +the glances shot from the tables, and the quick +turning of heads, that there was something wrong, +at least something unusual. I observed there +was no calling, and yet tables were served; and +by the occasionally sudden turning and going up +to some particular one, I became aware that some +other mode of communication must be established. +I watched. The garçon was standing near the +door looking at an English regiment at that +moment passing along the Boulevard. An +elderly gentleman, in a sad-coloured suit, who +had hitherto been busily employed at the next +table discussing his <i lang="fr">potage</i>, stopping suddenly, +looked sharply about the room as if in search of +some one. His inquisitive glance settled at once +on the garçon, and taking up the sharp-pointed +knife that lay beside his plate (the knives here +are all of one pattern, very common, and apparently +made to be used as stilettos instead of for +cutting beef or mutton), gently touched with it +the side of his wine-glass, producing a slight<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_221"></a>[221]</span> +jingling sound that scarcely reached my ear, close +as we were to each other. It proved sufficient +though, for the garçon started and was at his side +in an instant. “<span lang="fr">Ma foi!</span>” thought I, “this is a +‘wrinkle to my horn,’” I shall be quite an +<i lang="fr">habitué</i>. I tried the experiment again and again:—it +never failed; and being now up to the thing, +I soon observed that everybody used the same +signal. It reminds me of the Spanish call, “Hist!” +uttered from the tongue alone, without any sound +from the chest. Things are uncommonly well +cooked at Hardi’s, and served in most comfortable +and respectable style. The napkins at a public +table are quite new to us Englishmen. I had a +<i lang="fr">potage</i>, and one or two <i lang="fr">petit-plats</i>, that I selected +at random from the <i lang="fr">carte</i>; for amongst the numbers +figuring there, I knew not one by name, and +most probably as little by nature. One thing I +dislike in French cookery is the abominable fashion +of disguising vegetables; one cannot even get +a potato plain and unsophisticated. <i lang="fr">Gâteau de +pommes de terre</i>, or some such mixture of potatoes, +butter, &c. &c., is the only way they are +eaten here. Having finished my plate of strawberries +and a bottle of very excellent <i lang="fr">Lafitte</i>, I +set off for the Rue de Malte; but instead of going +directly thither down the Rue de Richelieu, I<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_222"></a>[222]</span> +made another little promenade on the Boulevard, +and finally down the Passage des Panoramas and +Feydeau, Rue Vivienne, Palais Royal, &c. The +lamps were already lighted, doors open, sentinels +posted, and crowds rushing into the Théâtre des +Variétés as I passed. The passages looked brilliant +by the light of multitudes of lamps, and the +arcades of the Palais Royal, where the illumination +was only beginning, already swarmed with +depravity, and proposals rung in my ears from +my entrance to my sortie from this sink of iniquity. +The decreasing light warned me not to +loiter; so, mounting Cossack, I made the best of +my way over the abominable pavement of the +Faubourg St Denis, until, gaining the end of La +Chapelle, the road became better adapted for +rapid movement. Daylight closed, however, just +as I got through St Denis, having just enough +to save me from the wheels of the numerous +chariots and other vehicles with which its long +narrow street is always crowded. Having only +open fields to traverse afterwards, I cared less; +and trusting myself to Cossack’s sagacity, he +soon brought me safe home—and thus ends one +of the many pleasant days I have passed in this +most interesting place. I find Mr Fauigny has +been here to-day. He gets hot after his money.<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_223"></a>[223]</span> +I doubt, however, if he will ever finger any +of it.</p> + +<p><i>August 4th.</i>—Beautiful day again. Every pleasure +in this life has some drawback—as if this +were necessary to prevent our thinking we have +already arrived in paradise. That, then, which in +a measure neutralises our enjoyment of this fine +warm weather, is the incessant torment of swarms +of flies (common house-flies) which infest us within +and without doors. From these wretches there +is no respite, except it be at night, or maybe in +a darkened room. The mosquitoes cannot be +worse, though they may be as bad. It is not as in +England—merely the buzzing about and tickling +caused by their alighting on and walking about +one. No; here the brutes bite, and so sharply as +to bring blood. My greatest suffering from these +plagues is in the morning, when I may wish to +lie in bed later than usual, which is not often. I +am generally up too early for them;<a id="FNanchor_23" href="#Footnote_23" class="fnanchor">[23]</a> for it is +only after the sun acquires strength that they +begin to be troublesome: then, unless the room be +well darkened, there is no possibility of sleeping; +and in my naked house there are not the means<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_224"></a>[224]</span> +of doing this—window-shutters, to be sure, but +they fit so badly that there is little difference as +to light whether they be closed or open. In the +village the road is quite black every day in front +of our butchers with the dead flies thrown out. +He poisons them with an infusion of quassia +sweetened with sugar. In my garden there is +abundance of the finest fruit—peaches, nectarines, +figs, plums, and splendid grapes, now all quite +ripe; but such swarms of these detestable brutes +infest the trees that they spoil everything. It is +impossible to eat any of the fruit without first +washing it: this spoils it. Half the battle is +picking it off the tree and eating it.</p> + +<p>What strange things we live to see and hear! I +do think that during the period I have been in the +world, more strange, wonderful, improbable (and +what once would have been deemed impossible) +events have occurred than the whole history of +the world, since Noah landed on Mount Ararat +down to 1789, could furnish altogether. Not the +least strange amongst these is the general order +just published to the British army by Wellington, +calling upon commanding officers to give every +assistance required by the French farmers or +cultivateurs in getting in the harvest! In consequence, +English soldiers and French peasants<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_225"></a>[225]</span> +are seen everywhere side by side, sickle in hand, +or binding sheaves, &c.—the invader and the +invaded alike peaceably occupied, and reciprocating +kind offices one with the other. ’Tis a goodly +sight, truly. Further good consequences are very +perceptible in our village. All mistrust and dislike +of each other are at an end; and our people +are now quite on an intimate and friendly footing +with the peasantry. Many an amicable little +knot may be seen of an evening sitting at their +doors enjoying at once the cool air, their pipes, +and the pleasures of conversation, or rather of +trying to understand each other. Some of the +villagers have already picked up a little English, +and our men a little French. The gayest of the +latter occasionally mix in the rustic dance; and +although rather rough and bearish in their manner +of swinging the girls about, yet are they +sought after as partners, the pretty <i lang="fr">paysanne</i> who +has for her partner <i lang="fr">un canonier</i> evincing in her +look and manner a degree of satisfaction not to +be mistaken. Already symptoms of jealousy +have made their appearance among the young +<i lang="fr">paysans</i>, and I have consulted M. Bonnemain +on the subject, expressing my fears lest it might +disturb the harmony already subsisting. “<span lang="fr">A bah! +n’y a pas de danger!—n’importe, n’importe,</span>” is<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_226"></a>[226]</span> +always his answer; and accordingly neither I nor +my officers have observed anything like a diminution +of friendship among the males. These +French girls are clever creatures. They have +hearts and flattering tongues for all. It is a +pleasing sight of an evening to see our people +returning frolicking home from the fields, with +the loaded carts, the cargoes of which all are +busily assisting in stowing away in the <i lang="fr">grenier</i>—soldiers, +<i lang="fr">paysans</i>, and <i lang="fr">paysannes</i>.</p> + +<p>Generally speaking, these latter (male and female) +are very respectable, well-mannered, and +well-spoken people in their way. There is, however, +one, the most perfect Caliban I ever met +with in my life. Bonnemain says he is not an +inhabitant of Stain, but comes from some part of +Normandy—I forget where. Short, thick-set, and +powerfully built; covered with hair—head shaggy +as that of a savage; long beard and naked breast, +like a bear’s; broad squat face and enormous features—indeed, +when standing close to, and trying +to converse with him, I feel a sensation as if +looking at his face through a powerful magnifier. +Of his language (he speaks very fast and very +loud) I cannot succeed in catching a single French +word, and I observe that the inhabitants themselves +seem to have some difficulty in comprehending<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_227"></a>[227]</span> +his meaning. I have christened him +Caliban!—beautiful monster!</p> + +<p>But it is almost time to go to bed, and as yet +I have not mentioned my ride to Paris to-day—I +should say <em>usual</em>, for few days elapse without my +going thither. In general I prefer the road by St +Ouen, Clichy, and Monceaux, &c., because it has +trees, the scenery is better, the line is not so tediously +straight, and by the Barrière de Clichy one +enters at once on a decent part of the town, the +Rue de Clichy and du Mont Blanc, instead of having +to pass through the long blackguard suburbs +of La Chapelle and St Denis. To-day, however, I +took this road. How unlike the neighbourhood +of London, where, for twenty miles (certainly ten) +from town, the country is covered with villas, and +the roads with carriages, equestrians—indeed, travellers +of every kind and in every way! Here +we have a long straight road stretching away +with an almost imperceptible ascent for about +three miles—not a tree nor a bush lends its +shade or breaks its painful monotony (if I may +so apply the word)—nor house, nor fence. In the +middle reigns a horrible pavement, and on each +side of this an unpaved road for summer use; +after rain these become sloughs, and then, sooner +than travel on the pavement, I take to the fields.<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_228"></a>[228]</span> +These, as I have before said, extend to a considerable +distance right and left, naked and cheerless, +forming the plain of St Denis. There is another +by-road leading off near St Denis, which, keeping +about midway between the chaussée just mentioned +and that by St Ouen, ascends Montmartre +by Clignancour, &c. This may be travelled <em>in dry +weather</em>. In my progress from St Denis to La +Chapelle, as usual, instead of the bustle of a London +road, a solitary cabriolet now and then passed +me; and from time to time I overtook a long-bodied +cart, with what we should call half a load—the +horses with their broad painted hames, and +the waggoner in his white night-cap (or mayhap +a cocked-hat), blue frock and white stockings, +<i lang="fr">sabots</i>, &c. These things have now lost their novelty—I +am too much at home to be amused by +them; so I was pacing along thoughtfully when +the wildest thing in the shape of an equipage +whisked past in a twinkling. It was Russian—a +sort of low clumsily-built barouche, with the +head thrown back. In this were seated two officers +in full uniform, cocked-hats, and long drooping +black or bottle-green plumes; four or five (for I +did not exactly ascertain which) little, long-tailed, +long-maned, wild-looking horses were driven at +a gallop by two boys as wild in their appearance,<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_229"></a>[229]</span> +seated on the off-horses, and using the end of the +reins as a whip, in the manner of our hussar +bridles. I was delighted; but the thing came up +so suddenly, and passed me so rapidly, that I had +but half a look at it. <i lang="fr">En revanche</i>, standing at +the northern entrance of the Palais Royal, I saw +to-day again a regular Russian equipage. This +was a low carriage also, but of a peculiar construction, +drawn by four little rough horses harnessed +with rope. On the driving-box sat one of +the most picturesque figures I ever saw in my +life. Conceive a head of Jupiter as to features, +and the splendid beard that fell in thick masses +over his ample chest, eyes shooting thunderbolts, +overhung by the brow of majesty itself; the support +of this head a neck—such a neck!—such a +muscular column!—such a bust altogether! His +costume, too, was piquant from its novelty. Nothing +European was there except the hat, if one +might admit this as such, which differed from +anything else of the sort I had ever seen; crown +exceedingly low, and about twice the diameter at +top as at bottom, encircled by an amazingly +broad band; brim very broad, and turned up in +a peculiar way at the sides—body wrapped in a +kind of caftan with loose sleeves, and girt round +the waist by a broad sash. On the off-leader sat<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_230"></a>[230]</span> +one of the most beautiful and wildest urchins it +is possible to conceive, wrapped in a caftan of +similar colour and make to that of the coachman’s, +grey forage-cap, and neck quite bare. He +was about fourteen this boy, and a more animated, +lovely face could scarcely be imagined. +In repose it would be lovely; but when lighted +up by the quick play of two brilliant eyes, partially +overshadowed by long elf-locks, the beauty +and wildness of expression almost exceeds belief. +Whilst I stood wrapt in admiration of these two +figures, a Russian officer in a plain undress came +out of the Palais Royal, and stepped into the +conveniently low vehicle. The coachman shook +his reins, the boy, who had been looking back, +turned sharply to the front, uttering a loud, shrill, +but musical cry, the little wild horses tossed up +their noses with a snort, burst at once into a +gallop, and away they went like a whirlwind +down the Rue Neuve des Petits Champs. For +the rest of this day I have never been able to +get them out of my head, and everything Russian +has borne with me a double interest. Strange +that, going as I do every day to Paris, it should +never have fallen to my lot before to see a Russian +equipage; and yet every day, at least every +time I pass through La Chapelle, I see hundreds<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_231"></a>[231]</span> +of their soldiers (infantry) without bestowing on +them the slightest attention. These, smart as +they are on the parade, are the dirtiest slovens in +the world off it: the usual costume in which one +sees them running about La Chapelle is a dirty +forage-cap, as dirty a grey greatcoat, generally +gathered back by the waist-strap, so as to be out +of the way, dirty linen trousers, shoved up at +bottom by the projection of the unlaced half-boot. +Such is the figure I generally see slipping from +house to house, or going across the fields at +a sort of Highland trot. Curiosity they have +none, or it is restrained by their discipline, for I +do not recollect once having met a Russian soldier +dressed and walking the streets, as if to see +the place. Sometimes, in passing their quarters, +I have heard them sing in their squalling, drawling +style, in a voice as if mocking some one; +there is, however, something wild and plaintive +in their ditties. Karl’s ‘Imitations,’ which I +always fancied a caricature, is, I find, most excellent. +The Prussians, by the by, show themselves +as little about the streets as the Russians; but +Austrians or Hungarians I meet constantly, generally +walking two together—staring into the +shop-windows, &c. &c. Tall, heavily-built, boorish-looking +fellows, but apparently good-natured<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_232"></a>[232]</span> +and orderly in their behaviour. Happening to go +into a shop on the Boulevard a few days ago, one +of these came in, and making some observation +on my purchase, was surprised at my answering +him in German, and immediately became quite +friendly. Whether he knew I was an officer or +not, it is impossible to say, but he followed me +out of the shop, and walked some way along +the Boulevard with me, and it was not without +difficulty I at last succeeded in shaking him off. +They are a heavy people altogether, these Austrians. +I frequently pass the hotel where the +Emperor lodges, and in this hot weather all the +windows being open, see from the Boulevard the +whole interior of the waiting-room, where the +stiff formality of the Garde du Corps on duty, in +their ugly old-fashioned uniforms of grey and +silver lace, with ill-shaped cocked-hats stuck +square on, is not a little ridiculous. However, +they are, as I said before, a good, quiet people.</p> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"></div> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_233"></a>[233]</span></p> + +<h2 class="p4 nobreak" id="CHAPTER_XXII">CHAPTER XXII.</h2> + +<p class="noindent"><i>August 5th.</i>—I had intended seeing some of +the sights to-day—so accordingly, after breakfast, +mounted on Nelly, cigar in mouth, and followed +by my smart orderly, Fitzgerald, I paraded slowly +through the village, crossed the fields to St Denis, +having passed which I had already got over half +the dreary road to La Chapelle, when Nelly suddenly +fell dead lame. Upon examination we +found a great nail which had run into her foot +(off hind), between the frog and bars. This put +an end to my day. So I returned quietly, put the +mule into the stable with Cossack and the brown +horse, Nelly into the mule’s box, sent to St Denis +for Mr Coward, who is veterinary surgeon to our +division, made Farrier Price meantime pare her +sole almost to the quick, put on a bran poultice, +and have at last sat down to amuse myself by +scribbling something about Paris—observations,<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_234"></a>[234]</span> +description, or what else it may be. To proceed, +then. I shall not soon forget my first ride to Paris +from Colombes. Although already noticed in its +place, I like to dwell on a subject to me of so much +pleasure, and shall ever recall with emotion my +feelings on first passing the Barrière de l’Etoile +and gaining a <i lang="fr">coup d’œil</i> of the magnificent avenue +beyond, terminated by the venerable palace of +the French monarch—its noble trees, its crowds +of carriages, horsemen and footmen, and all the +<i lang="la">et ceteras</i> of such a scene. Arriving by this side, +the head filled with preconceived ideas of filthy +narrow streets without <i lang="fr">trottoirs</i>, what was my surprise +on passing through the Place Louis Quinze +and entering the magnificent Rue Royale. My +previous knowledge of Paris, picked up in books +of travel, &c., has all proved erroneous. Some +travellers are extravagant in its praise; but I +think the greater part have dwelt too much on +the dark side of the picture, otherwise why these +unfavourable impressions that occupied my brain? +The natives, on the contrary, are too extravagant +in its praise; and knowing their gasconading +style, one is slow to believe their highly-coloured +descriptions, and particularly their saying, “<span lang="fr">Qui +n’a vû Paris, n’a rien vû</span>”—a sentiment now become +a proverb with them. But this same, or<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_235"></a>[235]</span> +something very similar, is said of many other +cities, if I mistake not—Vienna, Rome, Naples, +Florence, Madrid, Lisbon, &c. However, like +everything else, this has two sides—both parties +are right, both are wrong. In the same manner +as any other city, Paris has its clean and its dirty +quarters, its St Giles and its Grosvenor Street, its +fine and its mean buildings, its poverty and its +opulence—in short, its <i lang="fr">agrémens</i> and its <i lang="fr">désagrémens</i>. +I can’t translate these words. Agreeables +and disagreeables won’t quite do. Everything +depends on the good or bad humour of the traveller, +or the reception he meets with in the +country he undertakes to describe. It generally, +therefore, is either a Pays de Cocagne or a Tierra +del Fuego.</p> + +<p>Divided into twelve <i lang="fr">arrondissements</i> or <i lang="fr">mairies</i>, +and every <i lang="fr">arrondissement</i> into several <i lang="fr">quartiers</i>, +one finds such a difference between these divisions—in +the manners, habitudes, and physiognomy +of their inhabitants—as scarcely to believe +they form part of the same community. Thus +les Quartiers des Tuileries, des Roule, des Champs +Elysées, &c. &c.—in which are situated the court, +the hotels of all the <i lang="fr">grand seigneurs</i>, &c., consequently +the richest, smartest, and best shops—distinguished +for elegance, cheerfulness, and cleanliness.<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_236"></a>[236]</span> +Le Quartier de la Chaussée d’Antin is the +residence of the rich bankers, as in like manner +that of the Palais Royal is of merchants, brokers, +&c. The Marais is inhabited principally by +people of moderate incomes, fond of quiet and +tranquillity; and among these are to be found +the principal remaining specimens of the <i lang="fr">bon vieux +temps</i>—good, easy, old-fashioned people. The +Pays Latin—as the neighbourhood of the Rues St +Jacques, de la Harpe, &c., is called, from containing +the College de la Sorbonne, the schools of +the University, &c. &c.—is the cradle of science, +and the residence of almost all the bookbinders, +parchment-makers, &c., of Paris. Here reside +professors and students of theology, medicine, +law, natural history, &c. &c. All is here quiet +gloom, and some small degree of filth. Les Halles +present the singular spectacle of a rural population +in the heart of a great city. The other parts +of Paris, inhabited by various classes of artisans, +are not only different from all those already spoken +of, but differ even amongst themselves, according +to the business pursued in them. Thus the Rue +de Clery is one complete magazine of furniture +and cabinet-work, &c.; and most of the work in +silk, such as curtain-fringe, &c., is done in la Rue +de la Feronnerie and Marché des Innocens, &c.—but<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_237"></a>[237]</span> +of the more distant quarters of this description +I only speak from hearsay, the temper of +their population being such as to render it dangerous +for an Englishman to appear there as an idler; +therefore have I never yet seen the Quartier de +St Antoine, nor the Place Royale—the very focus +of this spirit. It is clear, therefore, that Paris +cannot be characterised by a <i lang="fr">trait de plûme</i>—as +clean or dirty, grand or mean, &c. Handsome, +and what we should call fine, streets there are, +and others which, without any pretension to these +names, are yet striking from their extent and +bustle of business, &c. &c. Of the former are the +Rues de la Paix, Royale, de Rivoli, de Mont Blanc, +de la Place Vendome, du Faubourg St Honoré, +&c. &c. All these are scrupulously clean and +very cheerful, full of fine hotels (<em>not inns</em>), fine +shops, and for the most part have good and spacious +<i lang="fr">trottoirs</i>. The first two in particular are +very handsome streets. Of the latter description +are the Rues de St Denis, de St Martin, de l’Université, +du Faubourg St Denis, Neuve des Petits +Champs, and many others. These are generally +long streets, some of them very wide, but almost +all of them without <i lang="fr">trottoirs</i>. Beyond these the +streets are generally very narrow, dirty, and dark. +This obscurity is caused by the enormous height<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_238"></a>[238]</span> +of the houses in the old parts of the town, and +their sombre hue—I was going to say <em>their being +blackened by smoke</em>, but that can scarcely be possible, +since from using so much wood one never +sees that thick canopy of smoke hanging over +Paris that usually shuts out the feeble rays of the +winter’s sun from the citizens of our metropolis. +The close confined streets, indeed all the older +streets of Paris, are redolent at all times of a most +disagreeable odour. Evelyn, 160 years ago, said +the streets of Paris smelt of sulphur. The innumerable +lamps swinging from ropes over the centre +of these streets give them, in my eyes, a very +mean appearance. I don’t know why, but they +seem, too, in the way. These ropes lead down the +wall on one side of the street in a sort of wooden +case, the key of which being kept by the lamp-lighter, +mischievous people are unable to get at +the lamps without breaking open these cases—an +operation requiring time, and not performed +without noise, therefore almost impossible with +such a vigilant police. But the greatest ornament +of the town, and no doubt that which contributes +most to its salubrity, is the great avenue +which, under various names, is called generally +the Boulevards, from occupying the site of the +ancient ramparts of Paris. Since the increase of<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_239"></a>[239]</span> +the faubourgs has placed these in the midst of +the town as it were, a second concentric circle, +called the New Boulevard, has been formed; but +this seems a mere circular road, not much frequented: +and along it is the only enclosure Paris +now possesses—a simple stone wall, connecting +the barriers, and thereby insuring the fiscal duties. +Of the old Boulevards I spoke some days ago; it +were needless, therefore, to fill my journal with +repetition. They must be acknowledged as a most +agreeable and amusing lounge. After the streets, +the quays of Paris naturally attract our attention—a +feature so ornamental, so commodious, so salubrious, +that we wonder our own metropolis should +be destitute in this respect. What a noble thing +it would be were our fine river bordered by such +quays as those de Buonaparte, des Tuileries, de +Voltaire, de la Conference, &c., instead of being +enclosed as it is between such a set of shabby +wooden or brick warehouses!</p> + +<p>But if London is inferior to Paris in this respect, +how superior she is in public squares! The +costly iron railings, the masterly statues that +decorate some, and the pleasant shrubberies, +smooth, well-kept turf, and well-rolled walks +which characterise most of them, are nowhere to +be seen in Paris. The Place Louis Quinze is not<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_240"></a>[240]</span> +what we should call a square in London; it is a +sort of esplanade, separating the ramparts and +gardens of the Tuileries from the Champs Elysées; +the third side is closed by the river, and +the fourth is the only side having buildings—those +of the Garde Meuble. It is an agreeable +esplanade, but is no square. The Place Royale +is, I believe, the largest square in Paris; but, for +the reasons before mentioned, I have as yet never +seen it. From all that I have heard, it is surrounded +by very lofty, and perhaps once handsome +houses, which then were the habitations of +the principal <i lang="fr">noblesse</i>, though now of a numerous +population of artisans. In the middle of it, I +understand, is a fountain, some trees, &c., in the +manner of our squares. The Place Vendome is +the next in size to the former; it is octagonal, +and the houses, all uniformly built, are of a respectable +class, but the style of them is heavy +and dull: the want of a <i lang="fr">trottoir</i>, the houses +standing as they do with their ground-floors unscreened +or unprotected from the carriage-way, +spite of the splendid column springing from +its centre, give this places a mean, <i lang="fr">triste</i> appearance. +I could not divest myself of the idea +of its being a mews. The Place des Victoires, +meant to be circular, is only a small concern,<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_241"></a>[241]</span> +neither handsome nor ornamental, and perhaps +only useful as admitting light and air into a very +thick and closely-built part of the town. These +are, strictly speaking, the only real public squares; +for the Parvis Nôtre Dame, Place du Carrousel, +&c. &c., are only esplanades in front of the Cathedral +and Tuileries. On the whole, however, Paris +is a much more cheerful place than London. In +this respect there is no comparison between them.</p> + +<p>8 <span class="allsmcap">P.M.</span>—Rambled up the road to Garges, which +is still nearly as deserted as ever; but the rags and +tatters, and broken glass, &c., with which the street +was strewed, have in a great measure disappeared. +After dinner, Cossack being still rather lame, I rode +Mula through the vineyards to Pierrefitte. The +country is much prettier on that side than with +us, being hilly, whereas we are on a dead level. +Our waggon-train officers are doing cavalry with +a vengeance, and making a great swagger among +the natives. Took a round by Villetaneuse—through +vineyards, plantations of artichokes, &c.—and +passing along the enclosure of a very handsome +domain, with a fine house of brick, let Mula +find her own road home, which she did very +cleverly and very directly. I think (at least on +smooth ground) mules are not so sure-footed +as is usually believed and asserted—perhaps<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_242"></a>[242]</span> +amongst rocks and mountains they may be.</p> + +<p><i>6th.</i>—Sunday.</p> + +<p><i>7th.</i>—To town as usual this morning for +sight-seeing. From the Rue de Malte took my +course through the court of the Louvre and the +Place de Jena, still boarded up, crossed the Pont +Neuf, “where it always blows,” and accordingly +did blow there to-day certainly, more than elsewhere. +Henri IV., with his manly countenance +and pointed beard, smiled on me as I made my +way through the crowd and plunged into the +gloomy and shabby streets of the Pays Latin. +Stopped at a mean, rather dirty restaurant in +the Rue St Jacques, where I got a bad lunch, of +course, and a bottle of sour wine; but for this +there was no remedy, as I did not know of any +better in the neighbourhood, to which I am a +stranger. After doubling and threading my way +through a number of dirty obscure streets, which +no stranger could have done in London, I at last +came out on the Quai St Bernard, where suddenly +I found myself among hundreds, if not thousands, +of pipes of wine ranged in tiers. It is the Marché +aux Vins; and whilst seated upon one of these +pipes enjoying the busy scene around, I mentally +bless the ingenious system of numbering the +houses and naming the streets that has enabled<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_243"></a>[243]</span> +me to steer through such a labyrinth as I have +just passed, and which might so well and so easily +be applied in London. All streets running to the +Seine are numbered in <em>black</em>; all those parallel, or +nearly so, to the river in <em>red</em>. Starting from the +river, the numbers commence in a double series +in these transverse streets; and in the longitudinal +streets the series of numbers follow the course +of the stream,—equal numbers always on the +right, unequal on the left. In the same manner +the names at the corners of the streets are of a +similar colour to the numbers; and moreover, some +remarkable object, giving a designation to the +quarter, is painted at the corners. The Jardin des +Plantes, or du Roi, is adjoining the Marché aux +Vins, and thither I went, walking in amongst +other company without let or hindrance of any +kind. In this garden, the Menagerie, and the +Cabinet d’Histoire Naturelle, I passed nearly the +whole afternoon in the most agreeable manner +possible. Much as I had heard of this establishment, +the reality rather surpassed than fell +short of it—and sorry I am to say we can boast +of nothing at all equal to it in England; nor, if +we did, could our populace be admitted to it +with the same freedom as the more volatile yet +more considerate <i lang="fr">badauds</i> are to this. Everything<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_244"></a>[244]</span> +would soon be ruined. The men would +trample over the beds, the boys would break down +the hedges and fences; knives would operate in +all directions; even the women would find some +means of doing mischief;—in short, it would +never do. Here, on the contrary, it was with +pleasure that I observed people of all classes +of society, even beggars, conducting themselves +with a modesty and decency of manner not to be +surpassed. The choice of ground has been very +judicious, as the plan presents a pleasing<ins class="corr" id="tn-244" title="Transcriber’s Note—Original text: 'undulalation'"> +undulation</ins> of surface that gives infinite interest to a +promenade. The botanical part is flat and even, +divided by walks into compartments, each forming +a small distinct garden by itself. These are +either enclosed by well-kept hedges, or by rails +and rustic fences of every possible useful fashion—which +may serve as models for those in want +of such things.</p> + +<p>These little gardens each contains some family +of shrubs or plants, and are all arranged according +to their respective climates. The dividing walks +form most agreeable promenades, as was evinced +by the number of people I found lounging in +them, many evidently not taking any interest in +the botanical treasures around. This flat space +is bounded on one side by a magnificent avenue<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_245"></a>[245]</span> +of elms, under the shade of which are numerous +<i lang="fr">vendeurs de boissons</i> and <i lang="fr">de pâtisserie</i>, as well as +one or two regular restaurateurs. On the other +side, the ground, swelling gently into hill and +dale as it were, is fitted by enclosures of simple +rail or strong stockade, as occasion may require, +for the confinement of an elephant or a deer. +Here in little paddocks, with room to move about +and a house to shelter them, we find a number of +animals, who, perhaps, well fed as they are, little +regret the loss of liberty. The elephant even has +a pond to wallow in, to the great amusement of +the <i lang="fr">badauds</i> who constantly throng the stockade. +The more savage beasts (<i lang="la">genus Felis</i>, &c.) are confined +as with us, in dens. It was only in looking +over the catalogue of the menagerie, and finding +the beasts enclosed in the paddocks classed as +ruminant and <i lang="fr">fauve</i>, that I remembered we have +no term to translate the latter word. This part +of the establishment is very entertaining, and I +lounged away a great part of my time in wandering +about the winding walks between the enclosures, +amused by the curiosity and <i lang="fr">naïveté</i> of +many of the visitors. The menagerie is separated +from the gardens by a rampart and ditch. +In the latter are the bears, great favourites with +the public, particularly the boys, of whom numbers<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_246"></a>[246]</span> +are always hanging on the wall, watching the +heavy animals climbing a high pole set for the +purpose. The hothouses contain all sorts of +things; but what interested me were the palms—some +of these I saw out of doors. Just by the +hothouses is a high mount, ascended by a spiral +path, bearing a sort of temple on the top, whence +there is an extensive and much-vaunted view +over the city and neighbourhood; but not half so +extensive as, nor in any way comparable to, those +from Belleville, Montmartre,<a id="FNanchor_24" href="#Footnote_24" class="fnanchor">[24]</a> and, above all, from +Mont Aurelian. The School of Comparative Anatomy +is very interesting: it contains perfect +skeletons of almost every species of animal, bird, +or fish, from the most diminutive to the largest—from +the minnow to the whale, from the shrew-mouse +to the mastodon, from the humming-bird +to the condor.</p> + +<p>Evening was drawing on, and I ran hastily +through the two floors of the Cabinet of Natural +History, that I might get home before dark. The +entrance to the Jardin des Plantes, by a handsome +<i lang="fr">grille</i> from the quay opposite the Pont d’Austerlitz, +is very good, but I could not stop to admire<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_247"></a>[247]</span> +it; and hurrying along the <i lang="fr">quais</i>, instead of blundering +amongst the streets, succeeded again in +just getting home in time.</p> + +<p><i>August 8th.</i>—It seems as if I were destined +always to fall under the Duke’s displeasure, and +to be the victim of his injustice. When I called +on Sir Augustus Frazer this morning at the Hotel +du Nord, the first greeting I got on entering the +room was, “<em>Mercer, you are released from arrest!</em>” +At first I thought this a joke, but Sir Augustus +assured me seriously that I had not only been in +arrest, but <em>that</em>, too, ever since our review on the +24th ultimo. He then told me that I had not +been the only unfortunate. Himself and Major +M’Donald had been supposed under arrest at +the same time and for the same <em>crime</em>; and what +was this?—this very grave crime for which two +field officers and a captain had actually been +under ignominious punishment for a whole fortnight? +In the column of review on the 24th +ultimo, my troop was on the extreme left (or +rear), except the two brigades of 18-pounders. +Our order of marching past was in column of +divisions (we have three divisions), and my post +for saluting was considerably in front of the leading +one, to leave room for the division officers +at open order, consequently I was fully a hundred<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_248"></a>[248]</span> +yards distant from my rear-division when passing +the Duke. Now it so fell out that, at that very +moment, a horse of one of the rear-division carriages +got his leg over a trace. The limber gunners, +with their wonted activity, were off, cleared +the leg, remounted, all in sufficient time for the +division to pass his Grace steadily and in good +order. But this little halt, momentary as it was, +checked the 18-pounders; and Ilbert, or whoever +commanded them, ignorant of the saluting-point, +trotted up to regain his distance, until suddenly, +seeing the sovereigns and their suite, he resumed +his walk too late, and passed them in confusion. +The Duke fell into one of his furious passions, +asked how this happened, and (what he did with +the foot-artillery I know not) immediately despatched +the Adjutant-General to put Sir Augustus +Frazer, Major M’Donald, and myself under +arrest. The two former, however, had departed; +and whilst the Adjutant-General was struggling +through the crowd after me, I had cleared the +Rue Royale, and setting off at a trot down the +Boulevard, had turned down the Rue de Clichy, +consequently was out of sight ere he reached the +Boulevard, where he gave up the pursuit and said +no more about it. Whether the Duke forgot us, +or whether he purposely kept us in arrest, we are<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_249"></a>[249]</span> +left to conjecture—certain it is, that we three +actually appear by name in the General’s orders +of yesterday as released from our arrest. <i lang="la">Mens +conscia recti</i>—I snap my fingers at the disgrace.</p> + +<p>Leaving Sir Augustus, I accompanied Bell to his +pretty lodging in the Rue Mont Blanc. I don’t +know who the people are, but it is an uncommonly +genteel, well-furnished, well-appointed +house. A young gentleman there is who visits +Bell occasionally, and a young lady who serenades +him (if I may so apply the term) continually. +She touches the piano well, has a musical voice, +and sings with taste. “<span lang="fr">L’Exile</span>” is the favourite +just now, a pretty song, which, from so often +hearing there, I shall always henceforward associate +with Bell’s nicely-furnished apartment, and +the little pleasure-ground, of some thirty or +forty feet square, with one or two acacias in it. +Frazer, too, has very handsome rooms in the Hotel +du Nord, richly furnished, with green silk window-curtains, +&c. &c. Sir Edward Kerrison and +old Platoff also live there. Passed the remainder +of this morning lounging about the Boulevard, +as much amused as on the first day. All +the fun, crowd, &c., I observe, is confined to the +right side going up from the Rue Royale; on the +left there is comparatively nobody, except, perhaps,<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_250"></a>[250]</span> +at the Porte St Denis and St Martin, through +which (or rather by which) a crowd is continually +setting, and one is deafened by the importunate +clamours of fifty cabriolet-drivers, all calling at +once, <span lang="fr">“Voiture, Monsieur—Voiture?” “St Denis, +Monsieur?” “Memorency, Monsieur?” “Garges, +Monsieur?” “Arnouville?”</span> &c. &c. These fellows +are most active rogues, and their carriages very +convenient, and far more agreeable than the +fiacres; and that is the opinion of the public in +general, I presume, from seeing one fiacre plying +for ten cabriolets or coucous, or whatever name +they go by. The coachmen of the former are so +well aware of this, that they generally are dozing +on their boxes, giving themselves no trouble in +looking for customers. Perhaps, however, this +may arise from their being only servants, whilst +the others are themselves the proprietors of the +vehicles they drive. Although conscious that +these <i lang="fr">portes</i> are in reality triumphal arches, yet I +never pass them without experiencing something +of the same feeling with which one would +view the magnificent bridge built by Philip II. +over the dry bed of the Manzanares if ignorant +of the impetuous floods to which that river is +liable. The Boulevard presented if anything a +more busy, noisy scene than usual. The Turk I<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_251"></a>[251]</span> +found with an attentive and apparently much interested +audience, whom he was haranguing with +vociferations and gesticulations truly astounding. +In vain I tried to catch the purport of his harangue—the +curious <i lang="fr">badauds</i> were packed so close, +and so firmly maintained their ground, that it was +impossible to approach one inch into the circle. +I lounged on and admired the beautiful Fontaine +de Bondy, or de Lions, I know not which it is +called, but its sheets of falling water are singular, +and I think it a beautiful fountain. What a +magnificent air these fountains give to the town! +How refreshing and delightful is the splashing of +their waters in warm weather! and oh! the contrast +presented to them by our conduits, &c.—shapeless +masses of masonry or brickwork, with +a brass cock stuck in each side, or mayhap the +said brass cock protruding from a common wall.</p> + +<p>The French are an ingenious people, and contrive +a thousand curious, uncommon, and often +admirable devices for opening people’s purses, +instead of sticking to the unvaried, dismal chant +of our beggars—although “<i lang="fr">Pour l’amour de Dieu</i>” +is not uncommon here. Our wretches drive one +away, but the gentlemen of whom I speak grasp, +retain, and even squeeze their auditors as one +would a lemon. Nor do they always assume the<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_252"></a>[252]</span> +repulsive rags, &c., which our beggars think so +essential to obtain their end. An instance of +this I frequently meet on the Boulevard St Martin—an +elderly man, of a grave physiognomy, +well featured, and of rather a genteel appearance, +clad in garments somewhat seedy, though fashionably +cut. This man I stumbled on to-day at the +corner of the Rue du Temple lecturing on moral +philosophy. Like the Turk, he had a numerous +and attentive audience, but, generally speaking, +composed of a better description of people. To +a clear, sonorous voice, he added a manner demonstrative +without being dogmatic, and persuasive +without betraying doubt of his own +powers. He defined the motives and rules of +human actions, and showed that these rules +are immutable—that we cannot violate them +with impunity. He then went at some length +into the morals of the ancients, touched on the +doctrine of expediency, on the desire of distinction, +ambition, &c., and very naturally, though +cautiously, introduced as an illustration Napoleon. +No one could mistake the sensation produced by +this magic name—a sensation which, having produced, +he proceeded to neutralise by gradually +slipping into the connection between religion and +morality. I left him explaining the insufficiency<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_253"></a>[253]</span> +of natural religion, &c. Although this man does +not beg, there is no doubt he makes a good trade +of preaching; numerous were the offerings silently +put into his hand and quietly pocketed without +once interrupting the thread of his discourse. +Another actor of the same description is a man +who usually frequents the northern entrance of +the Passage Feydeau: an immense power of +grimace, and amazing execution on the violin, +are the means by which he gains his daily bread. +Clad in an old threadbare frock, that once was +brown, with a pair of enormous spectacles riding +astride on his prominent nose, he takes his stand +on the steps at the entrance of the passage. Heels +close together, body drawn up at attention, and +with his gaze directed upwards at the window +of the fourth storey of the opposite house, he +appears perfectly unconscious of the presence of +the admiring crowd assembled round him, whilst +he executes with astonishing justness, feeling, +and rapidity, the most difficult passages from +some of the favourite composers of the day—distorting +his face all the time in a manner so +wonderfully ludicrous that his really excellent +music is almost drowned by the uncontrollable +laughter of the surrounding multitude. These +are some of the many means employed in this<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_254"></a>[254]</span> +gay metropolis for extracting coin out of the +pockets of their fellow-men. Gay, however, as it +is, misery exists here as well as elsewhere, and I +shudder even now at the harrowing tale Bell told +me this morning of suicide, to which he was +witness a day or two ago. Passing through the +Place Vendome, he observed several people looking +anxiously up at the Column of Austerlitz, +and naturally turning his eyes in the same direction, +beheld a man in the act of climbing over +the rails of the gallery, having effected which, he +deliberately lowered himself down until he hung +suspended by the arms over the frightful depth +below. In this position he remained a few seconds, +perhaps as if repenting him of the rash +act he was about to perpetrate; but, unable to +recover the gallery, he eventually let go his hold, +and was dashed to pieces on the pavement at the +foot of the column: the very idea is harrowing!</p> + +<p>A trait of the times, and a very striking one too, +which a person meets with at almost every step +in walking about Paris, is the announcement of the +change of dynasty—from an empire to a kingdom—exhibited +in the titles of shops, <i lang="fr">lycées</i>, and every +other establishment; the old word <i lang="fr">imperiale</i> +slightly painted over to make way for the more<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_255"></a>[255]</span> +humble <i lang="fr">royale</i>—<i lang="fr">lycée royale</i>, &c.—which is sometimes +painted over it, but more frequently by the +side of it, leaving the former word quite legible +through the thin daub of paint laid over it. The +postilions, too, are changing their imperial green +livery for the royal blue; yet this change goes on +but slowly, for we still see many of the numerous +English equipages daily arriving brought in by +postilions in green livery jackets. In the palaces +and other public buildings, the letter N was +abundantly introduced into all the architectural +decorations, besides the armorial bearings of the +Emperor: workmen have been some time employed +effacing or altering all these. Wherever it +is possible, the obnoxious letter is removed altogether; +but where that is not the case, which +happens frequently, it is changed into an H and +the numeral IV. added. These and many other +changes incident to the present state give a +curious aspect to the nation, and afford much +food for speculation and contemplation. Met my +old schoolfellow Courtnay Ilbert coming out of +town, and we rode together to St Denis, where +his 18-pounder brigade is stationed. On reaching +home found that M. Fauigny has been here. +Poor man! he is not likely to get much from +me.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_256"></a>[256]</span></p> + +<p><i>August 9th.</i>—Not quite well this morning, but +I went to town to meet Hitchins, and make a +sight-seeing day of it. Accordingly we have +done pretty well, galloping through the Luxembourg, +Les Monumens, and wandering over almost +the whole southern part of Paris. I can’t say, +however, that this has been to me a day of much +interest; I prefer a thousand times wandering +about the town by myself—observing the habits, +manners, &c., of the people—to all the sight-seeing; +but I allowed Hitchins to shame me out of +the idea of leaving Paris without seeing everything. +Much, however, I fear I shall have to blush for, if +that be necessary, and amongst others the theatres, +not one of which have I ever entered yet. The +Luxembourg is a fine palace, and I like its style +of architecture much better than that of the Tuileries, +though it is vilely situated. The gardens +are much the same—parterres, ponds, ramparts—<i lang="fr">voilà +tout</i>. The great attractions here are the +Chamber of Peers, and the Galleries of Rubens, +Vernet, and of the French Raphael Le Sueur. +The first I cannot bear, spite of his beautiful colouring +and well-managed <i lang="it">chiaro-oscuro</i>—allegory +is my abomination; the pictures of the second +are more to my taste; but the blue works of the +French Raphael I could not appreciate. Besides<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_257"></a>[257]</span> +these, we saw a multitude of other masterpieces; +and I was particularly pleased at having an +opportunity of seeing some by David, of whom +I have heard so much. Here disappointment +awaited me, and a glance at the “Judgment of +Brutus” satisfied me—all yellow and glare, and +extravagant attitudes. Surely the human spine +would never admit of being doubled in the manner +of the fainting female introduced in the foreground +of this picture—a perfect parabola. To +reach the Chamber of Peers, we passed through a +grove of orange-trees in boxes, and then mounted +a very fine staircase ornamented with statues of +great men, among which two were very spirited—those +of Condorcet and of General Dessaix, said +to be likenesses; I had no idea the latter was so +young. The Chamber itself is a very handsome +semicircular hall, having the President’s desk in +the centre of the chord, and those of the members +round the curve. Beyond this is the Salle de la +Paix, a very handsome room, the walls of which +are covered with paintings by David, representing +the victories of Napoleon, weakly enough hid +with green baize, and not allowed to be seen.</p> + +<p>Of the monuments I have little worth recording. +Interesting specimens there are of French sculpture +of every age—all preserved by M. Lenoir from revolutionary<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_258"></a>[258]</span> +Vandalism. The only thing, however, +that I remember worth noticing, is the tomb of +Louis XII. (I think), on which the corpses of himself +and queen soon after death are laid out: the +countenance of the king is expressive of great +suffering. The horrid truth of this sculpture, +aided by the colour of the marble—so completely +that of a corpse—leads one to believe that it +must by some means have been actually copied +from nature. In a little yard, about twenty feet +square, and surrounded by the high walls of the +neighbouring houses, stands the Paraclete. Its +situation is a sad drawback to the interest one +might otherwise take in this specimen of ancient +architecture, for in the history of the Castrato and +his love I can take none. In wandering about the +town, amongst other places we stumbled upon +were the poultry or game market, and that of +flowers—two opposite extremes. The first is a +very handsome building on the Quai des Grand +Augustins, and this being one of the days on +which the game, &c., arrives, the quantity was +prodigious; but the smell was more than we +could stand, and obliged us to a very precipitate +retreat; so, crossing to the Cité, we rambled on, and +quite by accident found ourselves in the empire +of Flora, redolent of mignonette and a thousand<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_259"></a>[259]</span> +other odoriferous plants, and presenting a <i lang="fr">coup +d’œil</i> not to be excelled: hortensias and camellias +appeared quite common. The Parisian flower-sellers +are adepts in making up nosegays, and, I +believe, understand using them as the language of +love like the Turks. Tired with our walk, we +returned to Hardi’s, where, having made an excellent +dinner, we separated; and here I am half +asleep recording the day.</p> + +<p><i>Sunday, 13th.</i>—I have been idle as to writing +since Wednesday, but not so otherwise, having +been every day in town; in the mean time, +domestic transactions require some notice. Our +vineyards are blessed this year with a most extraordinary +crop of grapes, to secure which from +marauders I have acceded to M. Bonnemain’s +petition in behalf of the villagers, and established +a regular patrol of our men—a precaution certainly +most necessary, seeing what neighbours +we have: at Pierrefitte the waggon-train; on the +other side, bivouacking along the chaussée from +Garges to St Denis, Jones’s corps of Belgian waggoners, +five hundred in number, men totally unacquainted +with the restraints of military discipline, +with full leisure to meditate mischief, and +most persevering foragers for their horses, which +are their own private property; in our rear, at<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_260"></a>[260]</span> +Garges, &c., are our savage and lawless friends of +Nassau, and some Belgians. So surrounded, vigilance +becomes absolutely necessary, not only for +the sake of our villagers, but also for our own; and +nothing has gained their affections, or united us +more, than the establishment of this patrol, especially +since it has taken some prisoners. The +other day the <i lang="fr">garde champêtre</i> detected soldiers +stealing along amongst the vines, but not daring +to go near them himself, hurried into the village +and reported it to the sergeant-major, Oliphant, +who lost no time in despatching a corporal and +four mounted gunners in pursuit. The fellows +were soon taken and brought in triumph to my +house, the <i lang="fr">garde champêtre</i> stalking at the head +of the procession in his cocked-hat and broad +<i lang="fr">bandoulière</i>, prisoners between the escort—M. le +Maire and some twenty peasants, making more +noise with their <i lang="fr">sabots</i> than the iron hoofs of the +horses, bringing up the rear. The unfortunates +were Belgians, quite lads, so I held a sort of court-baron +in my yard, and upon their expressing +great contrition, and begging a thousand pardons, +at M. Bonnemain’s request I forgave them, but +sent the escort to see them home to Garges, +whence they came. The effect on the villagers +has been very good—they have all become the<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_261"></a>[261]</span> +most kindly obliging creatures possible, and our +men are as thick as brothers with them; I trust +this harmony may continue. I have likewise another +source of amusement, which makes my residence +here more agreeable—I have hired a very +good violin, and bought some music. The offhanded +liberal manner in which Madame Duhan +informed me of the hire, and allowed me to take +away the instrument, stranger as I was to her, +without any security, surprised me much. I +rather think none of our musicsellers in London +would lend even their worst instrument to a +Frenchman in the same manner. On Thursday +last I went to see the Bibliothèque Royale, a +magnificent establishment, and where I passed a +most delightful morning; it is in the Hotel de +Colbert, Rue de Richelieu, from which street the +main entrance opens into a square court surrounded +by the building, and having in its centre +a naked statue of Diana in bronze, of fine execution, +but in my opinion misplaced here.</p> + +<p>The library occupies two entire and part of a +third side of the quadrangle (about 300,000 +volumes), and is on the most liberal footing. +Any well-dressed person is freely admitted, and +may range about unobstructed; but he must +touch nothing. Chairs, tables, pens, and ink, are<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_262"></a>[262]</span> +there for those who wish to write, and servants, +in rich liveries of blue and silver lace, are in attendance +to furnish the books required. These +people are positively forbidden to accept anything +from the visitors; and yet no one can be more +obligingly attentive. In the Cabinet des Medailles +are many curiosities; amongst the most interesting, +I thought, were the iron chair of King Dagobert, +and a silver disc found in the Rhone, and +supposed to have been the shield of Scipio—I +don’t know why. Two enormous globes, more +than 12 feet in diameter, are mounted on the +ground-floor, and circular apertures have been +opened in the floor above to admit part of their +circumference through it. The fourth side of the +quadrangle is a most delightful lounge; it is the +Cabinet des Gravures. In this are preserved specimens +of the works of every artist of every nation—from +the most ancient period down to the +present. The collection is immense, and is the +constant resort of all the artists of the capital, and +a crowd of picture-loving people. I could pass +whole days there, so interesting is the collection, +and so great the facility of using it. This place +occupied my morning so completely that I had +barely time to get my <i lang="fr">potage à la julienne</i>, &c., +and come home before dark.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_263"></a>[263]</span></p> + +<p><i>Friday.</i>—It sounds oddly to an English ear, +smuggling into a town from the country; but the +free circulation that exists throughout our country +is unknown here. Everything is examined at the +<i lang="fr">barrière</i>. What would our farmers and their wives +say if they were liable to be stopped at the gate +of every principal town, and their loads of hay, or +baskets of eggs, &c., submitted to the scrutiny of +excisemen? Several loads of hay preceded me +this morning as I rode through the Faubourg St +Denis. At the <i lang="fr">barrière</i> the column was halted, +and as the passage was blocked up, I was obliged +to wait patiently and see every load as it passed +in succession probed through and through by the +officers with long iron skewers, to ascertain that +nothing was concealed amongst the hay. The +signs exhibited by the various shops in Paris are +often quaint and amusing. A description of them +would fill a volume. The one which calls forth +this remark struck me as I entered the Palais +Royal this morning from the Rue Vivienne. I +don’t well know how to designate the sort of shop +which exhibits the sign of the “<span lang="fr">Gourmand;</span>” they +are numerous in this part of the town, and I think +more nearly resemble our Italian warehouse than +any other. Here is to be procured every dainty +that can stimulate the palate—pickles, preserves,<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_264"></a>[264]</span> +hams, tongues, hung-beef, cheese, dried fruits, +nuts of all sorts, sauces, dried and cured fish,—in +short, everything. The <i lang="fr">enseigne</i> of this shop +represents a fat greedy-looking fellow seated at a +table, under which his legs are spread out. The +table is covered with every kind of dainty, which, +whilst discussing a large salmon, he is eagerly +devouring with the eyes. If the Boulevard is +amusing for the life and movement it exhibits, so +is the Palais Royal in a high degree, and to the +charms of the former it adds that of an endless +variety of rich and beautiful articles of dress, +<i lang="fr">vertu</i>, and a number of others, which employ me +incessantly at the windows. The display of elegant +little toys in Bobon’s window is scarcely to +be surpassed—such little beauties of watches,<a id="FNanchor_25" href="#Footnote_25" class="fnanchor">[25]</a> +not larger than half-a-crown, cases most tastefully +chased and set in rich pearls; in other shops rich +and elegant shawls, <i lang="fr">fichus</i>, and silks, of the most +splendid colours; then jewellery, so much taste +combined with costliness; then cutlery and works +in steel, &c. &c.; and not the least amusing, the +numerous cafés or restaurants. The crowd under +the arcades is as varied as it is immense. If,<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_265"></a>[265]</span> +on entering from Rue Vivienne, one turns to the +right, not many paces in that direction will bring +him in front of the favourite haunt of Austrian +and Prussian officers. It resembles a great conservatory, +being all glass, and is in the garden, not +in the house, whence every refreshment has to be +brought across the piazza. About 2 or 3 every +afternoon this is crowded, and it then reminds me +of a glass bee-hive, from the busy stir within, and +the facility of observing this from without. The +celebrated Café aux Milles Colonnes is not far off, +up-stairs about half-way down the next branch. +I lounged up to it and was disappointed. A decent +<i lang="fr">salle</i> enough, which, being everywhere panelled +with mirrors, the green marble columns are reflected +so repeatedly as to give some colour to the +appellation assumed by the establishment. There +are several rooms; but whether the place is only +frequented at night on certain days, or that something +<i lang="fr">fâcheux</i> had occurred, I know not—certain +it was not in a state to receive company, wherefore +I made no further advance than to the door, +and having peeped in, wheeled down-stairs again. +Amongst other curiosities of Paris I have often +stood and contemplated the air of importance and +grave bustle of an establishment unknown to us +in London, where the operation in question is<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_266"></a>[266]</span> +performed in a very modest manner in the public +streets. This morning I walked into the shop of +a fashionable <i lang="fr">décrotteur</i>, that I might see more +perfectly all the detail of this most useful business. +The <i lang="fr">salon</i>, a large room, was lighted by +numerous windows near the ceiling (these, like +other artists, affecting a preference for light coming +from above: thus I have seen many receiving +it through skylights). The handsomest establishment +of this kind is in the Passage des Panoramas. +A certain degree of taste, too, was visible in the +decorations and arrangement of several large +mirrors (mirrors are indispensable to a Frenchman). +A sort of divan, a few feet broad, extended +nearly round the apartment, on which were many +gentlemen seated on chairs, gravely reading the +daily papers; whilst one foot, raised on a sort of +iron resembling the scraper at a door, was being +operated on by a journeyman <i lang="fr">décrotteur</i>, who +rubbed and polished away with most admirable +despatch and dexterity. In the middle of the +room stood the master-spirit, superintending the +active operations of his myrmidons, receiving the +acknowledgment for services performed, ushering +the one out of the shop and the other up to the +divans, conversing with the newly-arrived aspirants, +and doing the amiable everywhere. A good-looking,<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_267"></a>[267]</span> +well-dressed man this master-shoeblack, +who might easily be mistaken for a minister.</p> + +<p>Disappointment awaits the man who, having +read or heard the French account of any place +in France or the French dominions, expects to +find it realised, or even nearly so. With them +all is exaggeration and bombast; even the accounts +of their most respectable and veracious +writers, in all matters relating to France or the +French, must be received <i lang="la">cum grano salis</i>. +Disappointment certainly was mine after reading +and hearing so much of the several gardens +(as Frascatin, Tivoli, the Jardins Turc and du +Prince) when I turned into the latter of these +two celebrated places in the Boulevard du Temple. +Certes, I took it <i lang="fr">en déshabillé</i>, for the evening +and by lamp-light is its hour of triumph, and +then I am here always. The guide-book speaks of +“<span lang="fr">un jardin agréable.</span>” What did I find? Certainly +no garden—a yard (gravelled) divided by hedges +(such ones as may be expected in a town) into +several compartments, in which are a few boxes; +one side bounded by the <i lang="fr">salle</i>, with its usual +accompaniments—the others, by gables or back +walls of the neighbouring houses; figure irregular, +and space very confined. Having nothing fixed +for Friday, I made a wandering day of it. Up<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_268"></a>[268]</span> +one gloomy street, down another; at last found +myself in the Place des Innocens, in which is +held the principal vegetable-market of Paris. The +Place is large but gloomy; houses very high, of +a dark-coloured stone, and in the usual French +style, windows open, and exhibiting all the +variety of clothes hanging to dry, flowers, rich +curtains and common ones, &c. &c., incident to +buildings inhabited by so many different families. +The area presented a varied, characteristic, and +moreover an interesting picture. The whole space +was covered with large umbrellas, fixed upright +over the different tables, &c., the convex surfaces +of which, of all the hues of the rainbow (pink +predominating), reminded me strongly of the +<i lang="la">testudo</i> of the ancients. Amidst these arose, to +the height of some forty or fifty feet, the noble +Fontaine des Innocens, with its fine <i lang="fr">nappes d’eau</i>. +Not only the Marché itself, but the Rue de la +Ferronnerie, and several adjacent ones, seem quite +the focus of business, such stir and bustle do they +present. The profusion of fruits and vegetables +in this market is remarkable, more particularly +when it is remembered that not only Paris itself, +but also the whole neighbouring country, is +occupied by countless hosts of foreigners. The +old ladies, seated under their immense umbrellas<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_269"></a>[269]</span> +(formed generally of alternate pink and white +breadths), or stumping about in their <i lang="fr">sabots</i>, give +a very animated air to this scene, which, however, +is rendered less pleasing from the overpowering +smell of decayed and decaying vegetable +matter profusely strewed over the pavement. It +is an amusing place this Marché, and although +only now mentioned, I have visited it more than +once. Besides this, there are numerous other +markets in different parts of the town, the neatest +of which, and one that I always have pleasure in +passing through, because always clean, is the +Marché des Jacobins, off the Rue St Honoré, and +not far from the Place Vendome. Speaking of +these markets reminds me of the Abattoir de +Montmartre, which I frequently pass in my way +in or out of town, one of several buildings in +different quarters destined for the slaughter of +cattle—a most excellent arrangement, since the +blood and filth which usually pollute the kennels +in the neighbourhood of our slaughter-houses, the +disgusting stench arising from them, and the consequent +deterioration and unhealthiness of the +surrounding atmosphere, are completely obviated.</p> + +<p>Yesterday (Saturday) I devoted to another +visit to the Louvre and its interesting collections. +What crowds of English and other foreigners!<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_270"></a>[270]</span> +The gallery of pictures exhibits just now a new +feature—French and other artists, with their +easels, &c., busily employed copying many of the +pictures of which they are soon to be deprived. +Among them, working with the utmost composure, +were two or three women. But women mix themselves +up in every transaction in this country—even +in war, as has been illustrated in the formation +of our Amazonian battalion at Stain. Somehow +or another the statues have more attraction +for me than the pictures. The <i lang="fr">salles</i> are less +crowded than the gallery, consequently one is +quieter and more at liberty to contemplate these +admirable sculptures at leisure. The naming of +these, however, appears to me very gratuitous, +and I much doubt whether one half of those in +the catalogues are properly designated. Faun is +a very vague term. What absorbing reflections +arise in the mind whilst wandering amongst this +collection of cold marble stones! Even when, as +has happened occasionally, I have been the only +individual in the vast apartment, it has been +hard to fancy myself alone, so surrounded by +beauteous forms, amongst which such perfect +harmony of expression reigns—not an attitude +or gesture amongst them but what is ease and +elegance; nothing constrained, nothing proud,<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_271"></a>[271]</span> +forced, or unnatural; in all, passion, emotion, repose +and tranquillity, love, anger, joy, sorrow—all, +all expressed by these marble stones in language +not to be misunderstood. How powerful is the +imagination! These forms address themselves +peculiarly to it. Some excite a train of thought +associated intimately, I might say inseparably, +with historical recollections; others, again, are +associated with sensations of voluptuousness, +which, however repressed, cannot be excluded +entirely—beautiful rounded forms associated with +our sense of feeling, and conveying to the too +ready imagination ideas of softness and elasticity. +How much more we should appreciate these +splendid specimens of human skill and conception, +could we contemplate them separately and +alone, instead of thus jumbled together and in +public. In the Salle d’Apollon, however, I think +this inimitable statue rather favoured by his company, +amongst which are several Egyptian statues, +the constrained positions of which—knees pressed +together, arms hanging straight down by the +side, stiff draperies, and angular ornaments—contrast +strikingly with the elegant contour and graceful +attitude of this masterpiece by an unknown +hand. In this same <i lang="fr">salle</i> are two chairs in beautiful +<i lang="fr">rouge</i> antique, both of them found in the Roman<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_272"></a>[272]</span> +baths, and said to have been used in the middle +ages at the inauguration of the Popes. Pius VI. +restored them to the Museum of the Vatican as +antiques, and thence they came here.</p> + +<p>I cannot admire the coloured walls of these +<i lang="fr">salles</i>: there is something in them that does not +accord with the severity of statuary, and it struck +me that one uniform tint, perhaps maroon, would +considerably enhance the <i lang="fr">éclat</i> of these fine statues. +Nor do I admire these imitations of nature +being perched upon pedestals: were the Venus, +for instance, placed on the floor, or on a low platform +as the Apollo is, I think it would add considerably +to her interest. Every visit to this +splendid collection adds to my wonder and admiration, +and I returned yesterday evening with +my mind full of enthusiasm for the science which +could so nobly conceive, and the art which could +so skilfully execute, these exquisite productions of +the chisel.</p> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"></div> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_273"></a>[273]</span></p> + +<h2 class="p4 nobreak" id="CHAPTER_XXIII">CHAPTER XXIII.</h2> + +<p class="noindent">I believe in a former part of this journal I noticed +a chateau belonging to an Admiral Rosily. +It is situated quite at the extremity, or rather +beyond the village, on the road to Garges, and +therefore so far out of the way that, except to +visit the stables (for we have a detachment in it), +I never have paid any attention to it, and suffered +the people to do as they please. On my return +yesterday evening from Paris I found the following +letter:—</p> + +<div class="blockquot" lang="fr"> +<p class="right"> +“<i>Ce 11 Août 1815.</i><br> +</p> + +<p>“<span class="smcap">Monsieur le Commandant</span>,—J’apprends que +vous faites mettre des chevaux chez moi. Le Duc +de Wellington connoit les destructions qu’on a +causé dans ma maison, il avoit bien voulu même +me donner une sauve garde, qui n’a plus en lieu<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_274"></a>[274]</span> +depuis que le regiment de Lord Portarlington est +parti pour Amiens.</p> + +<p>“Je vous prie seulement, que les hommes qui +ont soin des chevaux n’entrent point dans mon +jardin, et respectent ma propriété.—J’ai l’honneur +d’être, Monsieur le Commandant, votre serviteur,</p> + +<p class="right"> +“<span class="smcap">L’Amiral Comte de Rosily</span>.”<br> +</p> +</div> + +<p>The Admiral has taken a much more efficacious +way of preserving his property in thus committing +it to my care instead of making a complaint +to the Duke, and certainly a more gentlemanly +one. I walked down to it this afternoon, and +was surprised to find a spacious, well-kept, and +most productive garden, enclosed by a high wall, +one side of which runs along the side of the road +to Garges, and the other along the lane leading up +to the village. The house is large, but its exterior +not handsome; some fine rooms within, but +every scrap of furniture had been removed before +our arrival. In the rear, all the offices carefully +numbered, and their names and uses painted in +large letters on the doors, “<i lang="fr">vacherie</i>,” “<i lang="fr">laitérie</i>,” +&c. &c. Our men have behaved well and destroyed +nothing, and the produce of the garden +has suffered little, the officer of the division +having preserved it for himself. I have given<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_275"></a>[275]</span> +directions which no doubt will leave the Admiral +no room to repent of the step he has +taken, although it is not possible to remove the +men and horses.</p> + +<p>The Duke, it seems, continues to bear malice. +I cantered up this morning to Paris, and called +on Sir G. Wood to beg him to forward my application +for two months’ leave of absence, which +he declined doing, as he said it would not be +prudent just now “<em>to remind the Duke of me in +any way</em>.” Rather hard and unjust this!</p> + +<p>In the anteroom, at the Rue de Richelieu (Sir +George’s quarter) I met Captain Light (Bull-dog, +as he was called at the academy). He is just returning +from Egypt, where he has been travelling, +and tells me that he ascended the Nile farther +than any one yet. All the honour and glory +attending his expedition he would have gladly +exchanged for that of having served the campaign +with us. He much blamed himself for not +having done so. Sir George wanted me to stay +and dine, but I begged off.</p> + +<p><i>16th.</i>—The vengeance of the Duke has at last +fallen on the 5th Division, and it must be confessed +they deserve it, having ruined one of the +prettiest villages and some of the most charming +villas in the neighbourhood of Paris. It is said<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_276"></a>[276]</span> +that damages are laid at £5000, and that the Duke +has ordered it to be paid. There is, however, no +depending on reports, everything is sure to be so +much exaggerated. Nothing else to-day, except +that I took my usual ride into Paris, where I +lounged away the time principally in shopping, &c.</p> + +<p><i>20th.</i>—I can hardly tell how, but true it is +that my time for writing is wonderfully curtailed, +although in reality I have so little to do. The +journeys to and from town occupy much time; and +now that we are, as it were, settled, people have +taken to visiting, so that we have frequently +dinner company, which forbids all attempts at +nocturnal writing. Sunday is my quietest day +in general, although not always. To-day I passed +my morning in strolling about the park of the +chateau, the village, &c. Our scenery is too flat +to be very pretty, although the chaussées on either +side of us, with their fine elms, are noble avenues. +These are the roads from Pierrefitte and Garges, +which unite near St Denis. There are several +spots in the park affording interesting peeps in +the direction of Paris. Having a clump of picturesque +trees in the immediate foreground, the +level verdant carpet stretches away until bounded +by the rich masses of foliage of elms bordering +the chaussée, above which tower the light spires<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_277"></a>[277]</span> +of the Abbey of St Denis; farther on, an opening +in the avenue allows the eye to range over +the naked plain of St Denis, bounded in the +extreme distance by the heights of Montmartre +and Belleville, with the dome of St Genevieve +rearing itself in the gap between. Except such +peeps, our view is everywhere confined by the foliage +and the rising ground extending all round +our rear from Garges to Pierrefitte. Water, or +the want of it rather, is a great drawback on +the scenery about the district: true, there are +two or three muddy rivulets, such as the Rouillon, +La Vieille Mer, Crouy, &c., but they are too +insignificant and too much encased to aid in any +way the scenery.</p> + +<p>Yesterday, when I called at the Hotel du +Nord, I was surprised at meeting Lady Frazer, +her brother, and two sisters (Dr James and the +Misses Lind).</p> + +<p>The festival of our patron saint was celebrated +last Thursday with much merriment and conviviality, +and it was very pleasing to see the +familiar and confident manner in which our +people mingled in the amusements of the day, +and the cordiality with which they were treated +by the villagers.</p> + +<p>The favourite (indeed, the principal) game played<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_278"></a>[278]</span> +by the young men was one resembling our trap-ball, +with this difference, that instead of a trap, +the ball was made to rebound from a large sieve +placed on the ground, and propped upon one +side so as to present an inclined surface. In the +evening a most animated dance was kept up in +the park until a comparatively late hour.</p> + +<p>Angélique was the distinguished belle of the +evening, and by far the best (as she was the +stoutest) <i lang="fr">danseuse</i>, although they all dance well. +As I saw her swinging through the figure, “Cutty-sark” +came forcibly to my recollection, and +mentally I exclaimed “weel done,” &c. We were +at mess when M. Bonnemain called to announce +that all was ready, but that he had forbidden the +commencing until the sanction of M. le Commandant +was obtained.</p> + +<p>This is of a piece with his whole conduct now: +everything that passes in the village I am made +acquainted with; he has even confided to me +several important family secrets;—in short, on +every affair, even of the<ins class="corr" id="tn-278" title="Transcriber’s Note—Original text: 'slighest'"> +slightest</ins> moment, M. le Commandant is consulted. Moreover, M. Bonnemain +pays me a regular visit at ten every morning +to know my pleasure for the day. Several +ridiculous petitions to the Duke (all of which he +attends to) have been suppressed, and the complainants<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_279"></a>[279]</span> +brought before me. But this is out of +fashion; at present nobody thinks of complaining; +we are all too good friends for that. Nor +is this all: I begin to have hopes that my +Fauigny affair has at last obtained a proper hearing, +since an officer sent by Sir Edward Barnes +came down to inquire how matters stand, and +whether I have as yet paid any of the money.</p> + +<p><i>August 21st.</i>—Called at Rue de Richelieu this +morning to learn from Sir George Wood what is +in the wind, but he knew nothing about it.<a id="FNanchor_26" href="#Footnote_26" class="fnanchor">[26]</a></p> + +<p><i>August 26th.</i>—I find an undoubted communication +from Sir George Wood’s major of brigade +(Captain Baynes, R.A.), informing me that the +Fauigny (or lead) affair had assumed a more +favourable appearance, and that Sir George desired +I would take no further steps in it until I +heard again from him. This is established; but<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_280"></a>[280]</span> +then follow some contradictions which I cannot +reconcile, and must therefore note them down as +they are, rather than lose them altogether. M. +Fauigny, quite elated at the attention paid to his +first complaint, had employed an appraiser, or +some such person, to draw up a complete estimate +of furniture destroyed, and every sort of damage +done to the chateau, with which he again waited +on the Duke, in the hope that all would be ordered +to be paid as before. This time, however, +he was unfortunate in arriving just as the Duke +dismounted, in a very ill humour, at his residence +in the Elysée Bourbon. With true French effrontery, +M. Fauigny followed his Grace up the grand +staircase. Arrived at the landing, the Duke, probably +observing him for the first time, turned +sharply, demanding, “What the devil do you +want, sir?” Nothing daunted by this rough +address, M. Fauigny mentioned his subject in +a few words, presenting at the same time his +<em>bill</em>, instead of taking which, the Duke, turning +hastily away, in his usual rough manner, exclaimed +to his aide-de-camp, “Pooh!—kick the rascal +down-stairs!” Such is the story as I got it—whether +exactly true or not is more than I can +now decide; but this much is certain, that Sir +Edward Barnes immediately communicated to Sir<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_281"></a>[281]</span> +George Wood M. Fauigny’s discomfiture, adding, +“Send word of this to your friend Captain Mercer, +and let him do as he pleases about the lead.”</p> + +<p>As I had been anxious for some time to get +leave and go to England, I find by the same +memorandum that I went that same day to +ask Sir George to make an application for me, +which, however, he would not do, telling me that +the Duke had refused leave (and very angrily) to +Captain Cleeve of the German Legion Artillery, +though summoned to his father’s deathbed. That +I eventually escaped paying a heavy sum of +money for depredations committed by others, is +not attributable to the Duke of Wellington’s +sense of justice, but to the irritability of his +temper. An officer holding a command in his +army (particularly of cavalry or artillery) was in +constant jeopardy—constantly struggling to reconcile +two contradictions: 1st, to conciliate the +natives, and thus prevent complaints; and 2d, +to keep his men comfortable and horses <em>fat</em> (that +is the word), which could only be done at the +expense of the natives. These, encouraged by +the Duke’s orders, proclamations, &c., were never +backward in complaining—indeed, they soon became +insufferably insolent: and whilst affecting +to admire and praise the <em>grand Vellangton</em>, and<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_282"></a>[282]</span> +draw comparisons between him and Blucher and +his Prussian <em>thieves</em> (for so they invariably termed +them)—“<i lang="fr">voleurs Prussiens</i>”—they in reality +laughed at us; whilst even the private soldiers of +the Prussian army were (to their face, at least) +treated with the most reverential deference. A +sad contrast there was between our relative situations. +As for gratitude, the wretches have not +one grain of it. Many actually imagine that +motives of fear have induced the Duke to adopt +this (to them) strange line of conduct.</p> + +<p>However severe his Grace may be in this respect, +he is easy and indulgent in another which +materially concerns our comfort—I mean dress. +Every one pleases his fancy in the selection of his +costume—some wear plain clothes; others, though +in uniform (I speak of visiting and walking about +Paris), choose to be unencumbered with sword or +sash. Many cavalry men, &c., like, in this hot +weather, to go with jackets open, with white or +fancy waistcoats, &c. Some wear mustaches, +others beards; others, again, both beard and +mustaches. A neglect of military uniformity so +striking, and so much in contrast with the precision +and strictness of costume observed by all the +other armies, could not but be noticed. Accordingly, +it is said, one of the monarchs (Emperor<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_283"></a>[283]</span> +Alexander, I have heard) made an observation on +the subject to the Duke, who, feeling himself called +on to do something, gave out a general order on +the subject, in which he directed that all officers +of the British army appearing in the streets of +Paris should be dressed either wholly in plain +clothes or in the strict uniform of their corps. +No doubt which was chosen. There is another +general order of the Duke’s quoted, and the cause +of it—for which, however, I do not vouch, having +never seen it. The story is this: An English +officer, walking on the Boulevard, was rudely +pushed off the path by a French gentleman, whom +the Englishman immediately knocked down. +The person so treated happened to be a marshal; +and he, without loss of time, complained to the +Duke, though unable to identify his man. His +Grace in consequence issued a general order commenting +on the outrage offered to a person of +such high distinction, and winding up with desiring +that British officers would in future abstain +from beating marshals of France, &c. But I +have digressed from the thread of my discourse, +to which I must return, and endeavour to render +it as connected as my disjointed records, aided by +memory, will admit of.</p> + +<p>After leaving Sir G. Wood’s, I find no notice<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_284"></a>[284]</span> +of further transactions until the evening, when, +accompanied by Ambrose (our troop surgeon), I set +off to ride home by the Rue de St Denis and La +Chapelle. Returning through La Chapelle accompanied +by Ambrose, a fellow sitting on his cart +drove against him. Ambrose’s temper is rather +peppery, and he repaid the affront by a cut across +the shoulders with his horse-whip. The carter, +standing up in his cart, fell furiously on Ambrose +in return with his whip, and a regular battle ensued, +Ambrose trying to mount the cart, the other +keeping him down and flogging him. In a twinkling +a crowd assembled, and from reviling soon +came to active operations; but I rode round the +cart and prevented interference. At last they +began to throw stones. This was too much. I +drew my sword and charged in all directions, +everywhere scattering the wretches like chaff, and +thus kept the cowardly herd at bay until Ambrose +succeeded in mounting the cart and breaking the +fellow’s whip over his own back, when, the crowd +becoming very serious, he jumped on his horse, +and we made our retreat, not, however, without +showers of stones, none of which touched us, and +being obliged two or three times to turn on our +persecutors, who followed us some distance. At +last we effected our retreat.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_285"></a>[285]</span></p> + +<p><i>31st.</i>—Review of the Russian Guards, &c. +They were formed as usual along the Neuilly +Road, and had the saluting-point in the Place +Louis Quinze. A finer body of men can scarcely +be imagined; but to me their padded breasts and +waspish waists appeared preposterous. The cuirassiers +were also very fine men, well mounted, +and neatly and serviceably equipped. I was fortunate +enough to wedge myself into the very middle +of the Imperial <i lang="fr">cortège</i>. The Emperor of Austria +received the salutes, and I was immediately behind +his Imperial Majesty—on whose right was +our Duke with his blue ribbon on, and all round +about were princes, marshals, generals—all the +mighty and distinguished of Europe. The Emperor +of Russia himself gave the word of command, +marched past at the head of the column, and saluted. +The Prussian monarch took the command +of a regiment of which he is colonel, and likewise +marched past. When Alexander wheeled round +after passing, and joined our group, he saluted +Prince Schwartzenberg with a slap on the thigh, +his countenance lighted up by his customary good-humoured +smile. The proud Austrian bowed in +acknowledgment of the honour done him; but +as he cast his eye over his shoulder and met mine +fixed on him, a frown soon chased away the<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_286"></a>[286]</span> +forced unmeaning smile still lingering round his +mouth, and it required no conjuror to see that he +did not admire being treated so familiarly. The +greatest good-humour and cheerfulness seemed to +reign amongst this group of sovereigns, sovereign +princes, and renowned chiefs; and that intuitive +awe which little people always experience in such +company, began to give way to confidence and +a feeling of delight at mingling thus intimately, +as it were, with those hitherto to me historical +characters, on whose faith depend the destinies +of Europe. My next neighbour, a man of high +rank—general, or what not—might have been a +Czernicheff, Wittgenstein, or some other celebrated +man; he wore a Russian uniform, and was covered +with decorations. As he spoke French fluently +(what Russian does not?), and seemed an honest-hearted +man, free from vanity, we soon got into +conversation, spite of my shabby old pelisse. +Never was I more astonished than when, in +answer to my question who the smart-looking +lancers were who kept the ground, he replied +“Cossacks.” A very fine set of tall, handsome, +genteel-looking young men, faces exhibiting +<ins class="corr" id="tn-286" title="Transcriber’s Note—Original text: 'a a '"> +a </ins>delicate pink and white complexion fit for a +lady, quite undefiled by beard or mustache; +dressed in scarlet jackets without any lace, fitting<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_287"></a>[287]</span> +like stays; large blue-green overalls, with a broad +red stripe, and, as usual, the waist drawn into the +capacity of a decent grasp; their arms a sabre, +brace of pistols stuck in their waist-belt, and a +long red-shafted lance without the pennon; small +rough horses—not of a piece with the delicate +man and the quality of his equipment. The +cuirassiers wore black-varnished cuirasses; and +one regiment was entirely mounted on beautiful +isabels, or cream-coloured horses. But the horse-artillery, +as <i lang="fr">en régle</i>, attracted my most particular +attention. These, as far as men and horses went, +appeared most efficient: the men stout, of active +make, and not too tall; their dress smart, though +exceedingly plain—dark-green; their equipment, +arms, and horse appointments all of the same description—plain, +substantially good, and sufficiently +neat, without anything superfluous. The +gunners’ horses were stoutly-made serviceable +animals; but the draught-horses (which seemed +an anomaly, though they know best) were much +smaller—and such little wild-looking beauties as +one would be proud to show off in Hyde Park, or +down Bond Street. The worst part of the whole +were the guns and carriages—the former of very +light calibre, and polished like brass candlesticks +(not above 3-pounders, I should think); the latter<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_288"></a>[288]</span> +very low, light, and painted bright green, looking +more like toys than service articles. To these the +horses were harnessed three abreast; the outer one +on the off side, more for show than use, prancing +along with the neck bent outward in the true +classical position, to which it was confined by a +side rein. The effect of this, as far as appearance +goes, is certainly good. My friend the general, +pointing out these pretty horses with an air of +triumph that led me to suspect him of being in +the corps, assured me that they had been almost +incessantly on the march ever since the retreat of +the French from Moscow. They were with the +pursuing force, took their share of the campaign +in Saxony 1813, advanced to Paris in ’14. When +the Russians retired, these little animals had drawn +the guns back again, and had actually arrived on +the banks of the Vistula (I think he said), when +they were countermanded, and had now arrived a +second time in Paris. Is not this quite astonishing? +I could well enter into the feeling of satisfaction +and complacency with which he begged +my opinion as to their appearance, and unhesitatingly +gratified him with my unqualified admiration +of them. How could it be otherwise! They +were round as barrels, sleek-coated, and full of +life and spirit—in short, they were so beautiful<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_289"></a>[289]</span> +that the thing looked more like a showy toy than +what had for two years been incessantly in the +field. The review over, I called on Sir Edward +Barnes and asked his intercession with the Duke +to obtain my leave, which he readily promised; +so I adjourned to No. 36 Rue Mont Blanc, had +some chat with Bell, heard his fair young hostess +play the “<span lang="fr">Exile</span>” again, and returned to my +dominions.</p> + +<p><i>September 2d.</i>—Care less about Paris than I +did, and stay more at home. The parapet of the +bridge becomes again my smoking lounge.</p> + +<p><i>7th.</i>—This morning I received the long-wished-for +leave of absence for two months; and wishing +to start immediately, Ambrose and I rode up to +town to take my place in the diligence for Calais. +The Bureau des Diligence is in the Cour des +Messageries, Rue Nôtre Dame de la Victoire—an +establishment of which I had before no conception. +The court is very large; there are several +offices for different coaches; but what surprised +me most was the parade of those heavy dismal-looking +machines—I think there must have been +fifty drawn up round the court. For Calais there +was no room, therefore I have taken my places—one +inside for self, one in the cabriolet for William—in +the Amiens diligence, which starts to-morrow<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_290"></a>[290]</span> +morning at five o’clock. The seats +inside, &c., are not left as with us to the first +comer, &c. On paying my fare I received a ticket +with the number of my seat on it, which will be +respected until I am taken up at St Denis, where +they expect to be by six o’clock.</p> + +<p>I know not whether the feeling be common to +others, but I never leave a place where I have +tarried ever so short a time without regret; accordingly +my approaching departure has imparted +a tinge of melancholy that I cannot shake off. +Latterly I have been tolerably comfortable here; +have got reconciled to my house; acquainted +with the inhabitants; into a certain routine of +amusements and occupations. The weather had +been generally fine, though hot; and everything +had begun to assume a hue <i lang="fr">couleur de rose</i>: no +wonder, then, that a slight cloud should interfere +to alloy in some degree the joy at returning to +all most dear to me.</p> + +<p><i>White Horse Cellar, Piccadilly, September +13th.</i>—Here I arrived last night, and having +neither time nor inclination to write during my +journey, must note down occurrences now as well +as I can recollect them before I start for Farringdon; +the which done, adieu to pens, ink, +and paper—at least for a time.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_291"></a>[291]</span></p> + +<p>On the morning of the 8th inst. I was punctually +standing on the <i lang="fr">trottoir</i> in front of a villanous +<i lang="fr">tabagie</i> in St Denis at six o’clock, William +and my portmanteau beside me. The house was +full of drunken, and therefore insolent, Flemish +waggoners, and I had no inclination to enter. +Our Noah’s Ark did not keep me long waiting +for its arrival, although it tarried sufficiently +when it did come.</p> + +<p>M. le Conducteur, a little man, but a most +important one, wrapped in a brown greatcoat, a +silk handkerchief round his throat, and his head +covered by one of those grey linen forage-caps, +descended from his airy perch on the roof with +great gravity, and pulling out his way-bill, demanded +of the <i lang="fr">cabaretier</i> where was the English +Monsieur who was to be taken up at St Denis. +I presented myself. The little man, scrutinising +me from head to foot, <span lang="fr">“Vous avez un portmanteau, +monsieur?” “Oui, monsieur.” “Où se +trouvé-t-il donc?” “Le voilà, monsieur.” “<i>Le +voilà?—quoi ceci?</i>” “Oui.” “Et vous appelez +ceci un portmanteau? Sacre Dieu! mais +c’est une malle que ça! Elle ne montera pas sur +la diligence!”</span> looking up at the insides, who had +thrust their heads out of the window on hearing +the row. “<span lang="fr">Sacre Dieu! cela <i>un portmanteau</i>!</span>”<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_292"></a>[292]</span> +and he began to swagger and fume and pester +among the <em>saboted</em>, greasy night-capped gentry +who stood by, enjoying exceedingly having a +John Bull on the horns of a dilemma.</p> + +<p>According to our English acceptation of the +term, my baggage was literally a large portmanteau; +but the passengers within gave me to understand +that Monsieur le Conducteur was perfectly +right, and that I had better try to conciliate him +instead of insisting. I took their advice, and my +<i lang="fr">malle</i> became a portmanteau, under which title +alone it was admissible on the diligence, according +to the laws and ordinances of La Cour des Messageries. +I got inside, William mounted the +cabriolet, and I bade adieu to St Denis—at all +events for two months. I was agreeably surprised +at finding the diligence such a comfortable conveyance; +well padded and well hung, we rolled +along most agreeably, though only at the rate of +six miles per hour. My companions inside were—an +elderly lady, very taciturn but very amiable; +a young one about five-and-twenty, handsome, +lively, chatty, and very shrewd—she talked for +both; a good, honest, little man, who kept some +sort of magazine in Paris; a young lad, clerk in +some counting-house; and an officer of our own +Rifles. We had not reached Pierrefitte ere<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_293"></a>[293]</span> +Mademoiselle had managed to introduce us all +to each other in such a manner that formality +was banished, and we were the best friends possible—laughing, +joking, quizzing each other or +the <i lang="fr">paysans</i>; nothing could be happier.</p> + +<p>At Luzarches, a capital breakfast, and as much +time as we pleased to take it in—M. le Conducteur +all suavity and amiability. Our lively little +friend kept up such an animated conversation +that I saw only just enough of the country we +were passing through to remark that it became +much prettier and more picturesque as we approached +Clermont, where the diligence stopped +for dinner. M. le Conducteur took the head of +the table, and our party was increased by a <i lang="fr">soi-disant</i>, +or <i lang="fr">soi-pensant</i>, humorist of the <i lang="fr">gendarmerie</i>, +who, seating himself <i lang="fr">sans cérémonie</i>, fell +to, tooth and nail, as if he had not touched food +for a week. This, however, did not much interrupt +the display of wit, which principally was +aimed at the cookery and dishes served up. A +fricassee of rabbit he vowed he would on no +account touch unless Madame produced <i lang="fr">les pattes</i>, +since, as he solemnly assured us, they frequently +served fricasseed cats instead. Madame did not, +however, produce <i lang="fr">les pattes</i>, and although none +of us touched it, the dish in a few minutes was<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_294"></a>[294]</span> +cleared of its contents. This fellow reminded me +strongly of the parasite in Gil Blas, and, his adulations +being entirely addressed to our little vain +conducteur, I set him down as the “<span lang="it">Antorcha de +la Filosofia!</span>”—maybe our hero always dined with +the passengers <i lang="fr">par ordre et pour l’espionage</i>. +Here, as at Luzarches, no <i lang="fr">empressement</i> was betrayed: +the diligence stood passively at the door +without horse, without even an hostler visible; +the ladies retired to a <i lang="fr">chambre</i>; so the Rifleman +and I agreed to walk on, which resolve we communicated +to M. le Conducteur, who assented, and +off we set. At the end of the town two roads +appeared, one running straight along the valley, +the other crossing the bridge to the right, then ran +rump-fashion up the other side of the valley, divergingly +from the former—and this road was our +proper one; but, without condescending to ask a +question, we very sagaciously chose the other, and +had already proceeded some hundred yards along +it, when fortunately (no hedges intervened—the +valley was all grass, a rivulet running through +the middle of it) we saw our lumbering vehicle +slowly ascending the opposite hill. The distance +that separated us from it was not great, and +we shouted to M. le Conducteur to wait for us; +but neither he nor the coachman heard us, and,<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_295"></a>[295]</span> +being ignorant of the nature of the rivulet, after a +moment’s hesitation we decided our most prudent +plan was to run back to the bridge, &c. This +we immediately did; but although both of us +were pretty active runners, we should have been +left behind at last had we not luckily met a miller +coming down on horseback. Him and his sacks +we dismounted <i lang="fr">sans cérémonie</i>, for the diligence, +having now arrived at the summit, had commenced +its jog-trot. Mounting the animal, I pursued as +fast as the end of the halter could persuade my +beast to move, and after a long chase succeeded +at length in bringing the vehicle to. Our companions, +especially the young dame, or demoiselle, +had a hearty laugh at our expense, and so +had our miller, for he grinned from ear to ear +when the silver recompense (never expected) +touched his palm, and he was still grinning and +bowing when we looked back as the diligence +drove on. It was about eleven at night when we +reached the <i lang="fr">barrière</i> of Amiens, and I had been +some time asleep. A bright light presented to +my eyes caused me to start up in surprise, and at +first it was difficult to imagine where I was, until +I perceived the uniform of a <i lang="fr">gendarmerie</i>, who, +after reconnoitring us by holding the lantern to +our faces, very quietly demanded something for<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_296"></a>[296]</span> +his trouble. Angry at such a humiliating operation, +the Rifleman and I sent him to the devil; +but our companions, whilst opening their own +purses, made it so clear to us that the fellow had +been extremely civil where he might have been +extremely troublesome, that we concluded by +doing in Rome, &c. &c.; and away we rumbled +over the jolting pavement, and through a series +of dark narrow streets, until at last we drove into +the yard of the Hotel d’Angleterre, as dark and +deserted as the streets themselves. Hostlers, however, +were soon forthcoming, the horses changed, +my <i lang="fr">malle</i> handed down, and William and myself +left standing in the middle of the yard wondering +what was to become of us. After a little hesitation, +one of the hostlers condescended to direct us +to the door of the house ere he retired, and after +a good deal of knocking at that we succeeded in +rousing an old fellow—whose duty I suppose it +was to sit up for the diligence—who showed me +into a large room, with a bed in one corner; and +at my request for supper brought me a couple of +cold widgeons, which I soon discussed, and jumped +into an excellent bed.</p> + +<p><i>9th.</i>—In a dilemma; no conveyance forward +but posting. Did not exactly believe this, and +therefore inquired from <i lang="fr">auberge</i> to <i lang="fr">auberge</i>, until<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_297"></a>[297]</span> +at last I discovered that a sort of caravan started +every morning at nine o’clock from the * * * for +Abbeville. This would be getting on, therefore I +lost no time in securing my places. Having risen +early, I passed the intervening time in visiting +some of our people stationed here—younger +M’Donald’s troop, also 1st Regiment of Dragoons, +K.G.L. Him I found in an excellent lodging. +Our caravan was a curious machine, very +much down by the stern, otherwise resembling a +small house on wheels. William and a woman +got into the <i lang="fr">fond de la voiture</i>, whilst I occupied +the front seat, in company with a neat, dapper, +little, big-bellied man, wearing a very smart forage-cap, +and speaking a very little English. We +travelled very slowly, and made a long halt at +Flixcourt (pronounced <em>Fleeshcour</em>)—nevertheless, +to my great joy, we reached Abbeville by two +o’clock. I found here the 13th Light Dragoons +and my old troop G; called on Lieutenant +Leathes; dined at the Hotel de Londres, a very +inferior house. Here I hired a cabriolet to take +us forward to Calais for five napoleons. From +the first I set my <i lang="fr">voiturier</i> down as a scoundrel, +from his physiognomy, and the event proved me +a sound judge. The bargain struck, he tried all +sorts of shifts and excuses, in the hope, as I discovered,<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_298"></a>[298]</span> +of associating some other traveller with +me. As soon as I made the discovery, I insisted +on his starting instantly, and after some difficulty +at last got him fairly on the road. It proved a +very tedious mode of travelling this; he did not +choose to hurry his horse, was continually stopping, +and more uncivil in his manner than I +thought a true Frenchman could be. The motion +of the carriage was very disagreeable—sometimes +too heavy before, sometimes behind; and at times +it became necessary to put a great stone behind +to relieve the poor horse of the weight. A sort of +commercial traveller (bagman), who overtook us +as we slowly crept up hill near Montreuil thus +loaded, facetiously remarked, “<span lang="fr">Ah, monsieur, +vous chargez des pierres, donc!</span>” Our driver’s +villanous countenance became black as thunder, +but he answered a dry “<span lang="fr">Oui;</span>” and the other, seeing +it was no joke, passed on.</p> + +<p>It was dusk ere we reached Montreuil, and +then our poor beast was so completely done up +that I was obliged to subscribe to the necessity of +halting; and accordingly our friend drew up at +the door of a mean-looking <i lang="fr">cabaret</i>, just without +the town, and we alighted, expecting but sorry accommodation +in such a place. If, however, La +Renard continue what it was, I shall have no<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_299"></a>[299]</span> +objection whatever to pass another night there +when I return. A pretty little airy parlour, well +though plainly furnished, the windows opening on +a garden; as neat a little bedroom adjoining, bed +the very type of cleanliness; add an excellent +supper and a bottle of very fair wine, and it may +be imagined that the evening and night passed in +the Renard will always be a bright spot in the +memory. It must not be concealed, though, that +a pair of very brilliant black eyes certainly threw +rather a witching light on my apartments. In +the morning, whilst Lisette was busy preparing +my breakfast, I was taking a stroll up and down +the pretty rural garden, when, to my astonishment, +the apparition of a true John-Bull farmer +stood before me. At first it appeared an illusion, +but the voice soon dispelled that—brown frock-coat, +breeches and gaiters, with good thick shoes. +Out of these, with the real country twang, issued +“Marning, zir; queer chaps here, zir; I doant +onderstand one word as ony on um says—not I.” +My friend then proceeded to ask my assistance +as his interpreter, and explained his being there. +His son, it seems, is the saddler of the 13th Light +Dragoons, stationed just now in Abbeville, whither +he had been on a visit, and was now making +his way back again to Calais, but being short of<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_300"></a>[300]</span> +coin (French—he had plenty of English) and +words, found himself here in a dilemma. Sorry +I am that I had not time to preserve the history +of his adventures and mishaps since arriving in +France; they were most amusing and laughable, +but I have now forgotten more than odds and +ends. As he passed the evening in company +with William, probably that worthy may assist +me in recollecting somewhat of it.</p> + +<p>My bill was extremely moderate for all the +comfort I had enjoyed, and I parted best friends +imaginable with my attentive hostess and her +pretty daughter—<i lang="fr">Au revoir!</i></p> + +<p>It is a curious town Montreuil, with its steep +narrow streets and high walls; but I only saw it +<i lang="fr">en passant</i>, for we did not stop. Beyond it, +after ascending from the valley of the Canch, we +traversed a dreary open country for some way, +and then came to wood and very pretty ground, +which continued until a long descent brought us +at length creepingly to Samer, where we stopped +to breakfast at the Tête de Bœuf (William Mallet—a +Frenchman, spite of the name). A Cockney +party of three ladies and two gentlemen had just +arrived from Boulogne—evidently the first time +any of them had been out of England. They +were all flutter and curiosity, quite childishly so—chattering<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_301"></a>[301]</span> +away bad school French with a regular +English enunciation, and giggling when successful +in making themselves understood. Had they +but guessed that the brown-visaged, mustachioed, +befurred hero who stood before them and watched +all their movements was English, perhaps they +would have been a little more discreet.</p> + +<p>One of the gentlemen drew, and had brought +a camera lucida, which he adjusted at the door of +the Tête de Bœuf, and disposed himself to take a +view of Samer, surrounded by some eight or ten +gaping clowns in their blue frocks and clumsy +<i lang="fr">sabots</i>, too picturesque objects to be missed; and +my man stuck two or three of them in positions +to enter into his picture—the only feature in it, +for the point of view he had chosen was a most +unfortunate one. As I leaned from my window, +right over the artist’s head, and at no great distance +above him (for the Tête de Bœuf boasts +but a very moderate elevation), many an ogle did +I get from the young ladies, who kept running +out incessantly in order to persuade our hero +that eating his breakfast was better than sketching. +But he was stanch to the backbone, and +when my <i lang="fr">voiturier</i> summoned me to start, I left +him in the same position, indefatigably occupied +upon his insipid picture. Before reaching Samer,<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_302"></a>[302]</span> +my rogue had begun expressing doubts of the +soundness of one of his wheels; and true +enough—for just as we gained sight of Boulogne +(beyond which, I believe, he never from the first +meant to go), smash it went all to pieces, and +down we came gently enough. The vagabond +acted his part well—pretended astonishment, <i lang="fr">au +désespoir</i>, &c. &c.—but I saw through him. Under +the circumstances, only one thing remained to +be done, as no assistance was at hand: William +shouldered my <i lang="fr">malle</i>, I carried the <i lang="la">et ceteras</i>, and +on we trudged; and after a pretty hot walk we +arrived at Boulogne, and entered the first decent-looking +house that presented itself, and ordered +dinner. Here I learned that a packet was about +to sail in the evening for Dover, and decided on +cutting connection with my rascally <i lang="fr">voiturier</i>, +who managed to bring in his vehicle shortly after +us.</p> + +<p>Accordingly in the evening we repaired to the +pier and embarked at two <span class="allsmcap">P.M</span>. My fellow-passengers +were—Lord Charles Fitzroy; another +officer, his friend; and a very pretty Frenchwoman. +We had hardly made any offing, when +the breeze falling, left us at the mercy of a long +swell—the surface as smooth as a mirror. The +rolling was terrible, and the poor Frenchwoman,<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_303"></a>[303]</span> +dreadfully sick, cursing the ship, cursing England, +and cursing herself for venturing on the sea. +Early<a id="FNanchor_27" href="#Footnote_27" class="fnanchor">[27]</a> the following morning we reached Dover, +where, to the unspeakable horror of our poor +friend, she was informed that she could not leave +the vessel until her passport had been sent to +London to be verified. O England! what naughty +things did not she say of you then! A coach, +starting within an hour after our landing, was +very convenient, and in company of an officer of +the 13th Light Dragoons, I took my seat for +London, and here I am.</p> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"></div> +<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_304"></a>[304]</span></p> + +<h2 class="p4 nobreak" id="CHAPTER_XXIV">CHAPTER XXIV.</h2> + +<p class="noindent">Two months I rusticated in Berkshire, and then, +my leave of absence having nearly expired, set +off in the beginning of November, taking with +me my wife, whose determination not to be again +separated, united to an eager curiosity to see Paris, +overcame all the difficulties I threw in the way of +such a winter campaign, and rendered her deaf +to all my representations of hardships and privations +which she would inevitably have to bear +and put up with. My journal of this second residence +was hurried, meagre, and very irregularly +kept. She kept likewise a few memoranda, so +that from the two, and what memory and collating +will supply, I am enabled to complete this +journal to the return of my troop to Canterbury +in February 1816.</p> + +<p><i>Sunday, November 5th.</i>—Slept at the York +Hotel last night, and embarked this morning on<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_305"></a>[305]</span> +board the packet for Calais—forget her name—Captain +Keys. All bustle and confusion when +we went on board. Deck encumbered with a +carriage and heaps of baggage, amongst which +the complete, well-appointed baggage of Hamilton +Hamilton, Esq., secretary of legation, or some +such thing, was most conspicuous. In time carriage +was stowed and baggage sent below, porters, +leave-takers, &c., went ashore, and we quitted +the pier. Passengers numerous: H. Hamilton +does exclusive, and even betrays impatience +and vexation at being shut up with such a +<i lang="fr">canaille</i>; then an old gentleman, with a broad-brimmed +hat, assumes mighty airs of consequence, +and even looks a little contemptuously at Hamilton +Hamilton himself, who speaks to none but +his <em>own man</em>; a Scottish gentleman and his +spouse, who makes a terrible sputter about her +dear little dog Rose, which is somehow or another +left behind at Dover; a mean-looking man in +a foraging-cap, a melancholy sergeant of dragoons, +and his wife; a Russian dressed in forage-cap +and green jacket, like a servant’s morning +one, wearing no gloves, and looking for all the +world like a <i lang="fr">courrier</i>, but F. insisting that such +a white hand decidedly constitutes him a gentleman; +besides a crowd, <i lang="la">gentium minorum</i>, of<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_306"></a>[306]</span> +whom we make no record. As we left, the guns +on Dover Castle announced Guy Faux by a royal +salute. A fresh breeze and rather dark day—the +one operating on the <em>physique</em>, the other on +the <em>morale</em>, made all the passengers except very +few exceedingly sick. More than half-way over, +our breeze gradually subsided into a calm, and +left us bobbing about at a most tantalising distance +from our port. To amuse the tedium of the +calm, our Russian (by no means a handsome man), +who had been ogling F. from the very beginning, +managed to pick up a conversation; and in a +very short time from ogling began to make love, +which, however, was cut short by her getting +squeamish, and being obliged to lie down. He +then transferred his attentions to me, and I really +found him a most gentlemanly, well-informed +man, spite of his exterior. After being tantalised +for some time looking at Calais without being +able to reach it, at length a breeze sprang up and +carried us in. Crowds of Sunday people were on +the pier, all anxious to see the arrivals. The +usual squabble about baggage and forcing through +the surrounding multitude took place, and we +went to Quillacq’s Hotel without the baggage—which, +after all, was detained on board until it +could be inspected at the custom-house on Monday<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_307"></a>[307]</span> +morning, a most inconvenient arrangement, +as we found ourselves without an article except +what we stood in—a great rambling house, with +large dreary (at this season of the year) rooms +and long corridors. Amused with F.’s surprise +at the number of little dishes served up at dinner—all, +however, excellent. Obliged to borrow +nightcaps of M. and Madame Quillacq.</p> + +<p><i>6th.</i>—Up at seven in the morning, and went to +the custom-house for our baggage. <i lang="fr">Douaniers</i>, +a set of insolent scoundrels, gave themselves +amazing airs, and tumbled everything out on the +floor; particularly severe with Ham. Hamilton’s +baggage, who had sent his servant for it. At last +I got mine out of their clutches; hired a cabriolet +to take us to Paris, where we give it up to the +correspondent. Well stuffed and comfortable, +with innumerable little pockets. F. amused again +with our set out: started at half-past ten <span class="allsmcap">A.M.</span>, +preceded by the little gentleman in the broad-brimmed +hat in one <i lang="fr">calèche</i>, and the two Russians +in another. At Marquise we passed them. Nothing +extraordinary in our drive except Buonaparte’s +pillar near Boulogne, and the house he lived in at +Pont de Bricq when he visited the army of England. +Arrived at M. Mallet, Samer, by half-past +four <span class="allsmcap">P.M</span>. Found the house comfortable, except<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_308"></a>[308]</span> +that our room smoked somewhat. Girls most +merry; gave us an excellent dinner, but so-so +wine. Amused ourselves with arrivals and departures. +F. looked in vain, however, for her +Russian lover—he came not.</p> + +<p>But another character of more importance came +not: Mr William should have joined us at Dover +or Calais; but when at the latter we learned that +he remained at Dover waiting for his trunk, +which had been left behind in London.</p> + +<p><i>November 7th.</i>—Sophie gave us an excellent +breakfast, after which we set off. Our postilion a +character, in the imperial green jacket; and from +under his leathern hat, instead of the usual thick +queue, flowed a mass of locks unrestrained. His +beasts were a couple of long-tailed cart-horses, +harnessed principally with rope. The long ascent, +after leaving Samer, brought us on the plateau +occupied by the dreaded forest—dreaded because +we had heard reports of banditti and plundering; +but we passed through it without interruption, +and soon after saw the ramparts of Montreuil +crowning the isolated hill, frowning like an +acropolis over the lower town—the whole, +standing as it does in a country destitute of the +smallest feature of the picturesque, presenting a +most sombre and forbidding aspect. Nor did the<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_309"></a>[309]</span> +interior belie its exterior aspect, which we entered +by a long, squalid, straggling street, and ascended +to the upper town by a very steep hill. Whilst +the horses were changing we got an omelet. +Scotch officer and his wife, who had come on <i lang="fr">en +voiturier</i>, we overtook here. As elsewhere, a +crowd of beggars assailed us on alighting and +re-entering our carriage. In this country they +spoil their own trade, for they are too numerous. +I hurry over all this, for my notes are very +meagre.</p> + +<p>Approaching Abbeville by a long descent, its +cathedral, proudly elevating its beautiful Gothic +front above the other buildings (dingy in colour, +and unpicturesque in form) was the only redeeming +point in the view; but that <em>was</em> an interesting +one. The town, however, pleased us, though +its streets are rather narrow and dirty. Found +our old friends the hussars of the Brunswick auxiliaries +and my old troop (G) quartered here.</p> + +<p><i>8th.</i>—Started at a little after seven <span class="allsmcap">A.M.</span> Our +postilion was the first one we had had, who +astonished F. by wearing jack-boots. Breakfasted +at Flixcourt: little slop-basins instead of +cups, with large spoons; as usual, sour bread and +soapy butter—for all which the charge was exorbitant. +During breakfast the beautiful band of<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_310"></a>[310]</span> +the 1st Hussars, K.G.L., was playing on an open +space near the house, where the regiment had its +morning parade.</p> + +<p>At Pecquigny met a bridal—all in their best; +men and boys firing guns, and the bride carrying +a little flag. A young rogue who stood by +our carriage whilst changing horses begging in a +most piteous accent, observing me start when +the first gun was fired, just before the procession +came in sight, could not resist the desire of amusing +himself at my expense, whom he no doubt +took for some Cockney, and shouted, in a voice +of affected alarm, “<span lang="fr">C’est l’ennemi, monsieur!</span>” +and seeing that his <i lang="fr">coup</i> had <i lang="fr">manqué</i>, burst into +laughter.</p> + +<p>Beyond Pecquigny came on the valley of the +Somme; and the scenery became somewhat interesting. +Amiens we found full of Prussians, +and only stopped to change horses—Maître de +Poste quite a gentlemanly man, riding a managed +horse. Fine old town and splendid cathedral. +Stopped for the night at Breteuil. Inn an immense +old-fashioned house, like an old convent; great +rambling wainscoted corridor; and our room large, +lofty, and the walls hung with old faded tapestry, +and two old-fashioned beds with curtains of +yellow damask; sitting-room quite on a par with<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_311"></a>[311]</span> +it. Our attendant Josephine (a very pretty girl) +told us our teeth must be bad, because we complained +of our fowl being tough; and to our complaint +of knives, she said they were too sharp, +for that she had just cut her finger with one of +them. Apropos of knives, there seems but one +pattern all over France, and that a very coarse +one, which, however costly the table-service in +other respects, appears everywhere to spoil the +whole. Its sharp point one sees constantly used +as a tooth-pick; and over and over again I have +seen it taken from that employment and plunged +unhesitatingly into some dish, &c. Soup served in +a regular white jorden; however, we find fine Sevres +porcelain coffee-services everywhere. Wine here +all out of one cask, though Josephine protested +that the fifty different kinds she enumerated were +literally and truly each from the place named. +F. astonished at the immense long loaves. An +English family had arrived in a smart barouche, +with servants in a cabriolet. Forced to sit in +their bedroom, ours being the only <i lang="fr">salle</i>, such as +it is.</p> + +<p><i>November 9th.</i>—Early this morning a large +detachment of Prussian infantry marched into +Breteuil, and the officers, as soon as their parade +was over, came tramping <i lang="fr">sans cérémonie</i> through<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_312"></a>[312]</span> +every room in the house. F., whom I had left +alone whilst I strolled out to see the place, was +terribly frightened by three or four of them +walking into the room, and standing there with +the door open jabbering for some time, as if no +one had been present, one of them ogling most +furiously. Spite of our exertions, the family in +the barouche got their horses and set off before +us, to our great annoyance, as of course they +would absorb all the attention and occupy all the +accommodation to our exclusion. Josephine gave +us a miserable breakfast, no doubt owing to that +accursed barouche; and, after all, our bill was +most exorbitant. Thought our postilion was +mad—for never saw French postilion dash along +so recklessly and at such a pace: the cabriolet +rolled from side to side, and jerked and jumped +so that I expected we should plunge through +the windows. Still it was pleasant to get on. +At last we overtook the barouche, and the +mystery was explained, for our gentleman relapsed +at once into the tamest of postilions, +sticking himself close up to the other carriage, +with his horses’ noses under its very dicky. +Occupant of this a gentleman’s gentleman of the +very first water, who sadly annoyed F. by his +impudent staring. Urged our hero of the jack-boots<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_313"></a>[313]</span> +and sheep’s-skin pelisse to pass ahead, for +the heavy barouche, although drawn by four +horses, could only get on at a jog-trot pace. +Urged long in vain. At last, just as he was about +to push on, the gentleman in the dicky dropped +his glove, and our most polite postilion actually +stopped, dismounted, picked it up, and again +driving up in the wake of the barouche, presented +it with the utmost deference of manner to the +supercilious scoundrel. Got furious now, and +commenced such a volley that I at last actually +succeeded in driving him ahead of the barouche +just as we approached Clermont. Another marriage +at St Juste: bride very pretty, and guns +fired in abundance as before. Clermont uncommonly +prettily situated. Did not alight, but +enjoyed some delicious grapes which women and +girls brought and sold for a song. Hence to +Creil; a great improvement in the scenery, which +became rich, diversified, and well wooded, until +near that place we descended into the beautiful +bottom of the Oise, with its wooded hill and +white cliffs. Found here a garrison of Belges. +Our postilion still more mad. As we had foreseen, +there was some difficulty in getting rooms +at the Hotel de Bourbon at Chantilly, and we +had scarcely secured them ere the barouche drove<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_314"></a>[314]</span> +up, but could not find accommodation. Visited +the chateau of the Prince de Condé. Stables +magnificent; an immense lofty hall, as big as a +church, with a fine cupola—around are the +stalls, &c.—splendid idea! Our dinner even +more than usually ridiculous by the number of +little <i lang="fr">plats</i>—a regular doll’s; liqueurs of sorts, all +very bad, in cruet-bottles—aniseed the only one +drinkable. In the evening entertained by the +singing of the Nassau troops stationed here. Bad +news from Paris. In the next room a party of +London shop-boys, or some such thing. One of +these, pretty drunk, wanted to be called in the +morning, and as our doors were open, we had the +full benefit and advantage of the fine language +propounded to the waiter: “<span lang="fr">Garçon! mon domestique +à cinq heure et demie.</span>” Garçon does not +comprehend; tries over and over again. “<span lang="fr">Je ne +vous comprends pas, monsieur, se fait entendre +toujours.</span>” At last impatient, “Well, dammee, +’tis simply this, my man: tell my servant to call +me at half-past five o’clock.” We went to our +bedroom ere the matter was settled. The French +seem to think nothing of damp sheets—ours were +actually wet.</p> + +<p><i>10th.</i>—Our host gave us a most comfortable +breakfast, after which we set off in high spirits<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_315"></a>[315]</span> +for Paris; the day fine and scenery lovely. +Whilst changing horses at Luzarches, some non-commissioned +officers of the Belgic or Nassau +troops stationed there were exceedingly impertinent +to F., but I had no time to obtain redress, +so left them.</p> + +<p>After passing Pierrefitte, made our postilion +turn off the chaussée spite of his objections, and +attempt to reach Stain; but we soon found the +cross-road so bad, nearly smashing our wheels, +that we were glad to regain the chaussée. Whilst +stopping at the post-house at St Denis, Frazer +and Ambrose rode up. From them we learned +that old Webber had made my house very comfortable; +so determined not to stay in Paris, but +to give up our cabriolet, and return forthwith to +Stain. This we accordingly did, driving straight +to the Remise, Rue Faubourg St Denis, where +we hired a fiacre, and reached Stain about dusk. +It was a cold gloomy evening. The story of +comfort was exaggerated. Webber had hired +some little, shabby, old furniture; but the place +looked wretched, and when F. became fully aware +of its discomforts, her enthusiasm gave way like +snow before the sun; she burst into tears. The +heroics vanished, and she confessed she wished +herself again in England. The room had indeed a<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_316"></a>[316]</span> +most forlorn appearance: a handful of fire flickered +in the grateless, gaping chimney; the little furniture +was of the coarsest kind; the uncarpeted +floor of brick;—desolation everywhere! We had +had no dinner, and, except some ration-beef, nothing +could be procured. Some of this, however, +was cooked and despatched; and, as the best thing +we could do, we set to work putting to rights, +and making the most of it. Nothing could equal +the surprise of Madlle. Rose at finding that the +smooth-faced bourgeois was indeed the identical +mustachioed commandant she had been accustomed +to months ago. Next morning found a +poultry-yard—rabbits, &c., all provided by the +attentions of old Robertson, my quartermaster-sergeant. +Things looked better; F. was refreshed, +consequently in better spirits. The visits of +congratulation and kind attentions of our villagers +delighted her; but M. le Maire stood like one +thunderstruck when introduced to his old friend +with a new face. My cow dead, but another was +negotiating for. The history of the defunct was, +that she was a commissariat issue to me as so +many rations; but, instead of putting her to +death, I kept her for her milk.</p> + +<p>Here, again, I am without a guide, or nearly so—my +diary ends; and, to continue our residence<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_317"></a>[317]</span> +at Stain, I am reduced to a few brief notices preserved +in my general journal.</p> + +<p>That residence was uncomfortable enough, for +the winter set in with a degree of severity unknown +in England; and our house, both from its +construction and furnishing, was ill calculated, +under such circumstances, to afford comfort, or +indeed at times to prevent suffering. However, +we were in paradise compared to the situation of +the little farmers (cultivateurs) and still poorer +people amongst whom we were thus domiciliated. +With them we found that it was no uncommon +practice to live in the stable, &c., among the +cattle, for the sake of sparing fuel—the animals +helping to keep them warm.</p> + +<p>Sometimes I took F. to Paris to see the lions; +but it was sad, cold, dirty work. The streets were +ankle-deep in mud; even the walks of the Palais +Royal, the Passage des Panoramas, &c., were +covered with mud, carried in on people’s feet. +Sometimes I took a walk; but the country, now +stripped of its verdure, presented an aspect hideously +cheerless. What could be more so than the +extensive, dreary, snow-covered plain extending +from St Denis to the foot of Montmartre without +a redeeming tree? Like other highroads, the +one crossing this plain to La Chapelle, we were<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_318"></a>[318]</span> +told, had once been bordered by trees, but they +were cut down on the approach of the Allied +armies, I think, last year.</p> + +<p>Soon after arriving, having published through +the commune our want of a female servant, Mademoiselle +Rose introduced Angélique. My wife +took a liking to her immediately; so, having exchanged +written contracts with M. l’Ecuyer (her +father), engaging to take care of, and send her +back from England free of expense, she was +engaged, and forthwith entered on her functions, +as cook, lady’s-maid, &c. M. l’Ecuyer is (like +most of our neighbours) a cultivateur—works +his own little bit of land, and is independent, +except of poverty; for these little cultivateurs +work hard and fare harder, as far as I can learn.</p> + +<p>Sometimes our <i lang="fr">séjour</i> was enlivened by visits +from our own officers, or from some of those +stationed in St Denis, La Vertu, and even from +Paris: and occasionally more genial weather allowed +F. to ride Cossack; but these rides were +necessarily confined to the park. With the villagers +we had become as much at home as +Frenchmen could be. As for our <i lang="fr">ménage</i>, it got +on pretty well; and once we even ventured on +giving a dinner to Wells and Ambrose, which +went off pretty well; and once we went and<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_319"></a>[319]</span> +passed a day with Sir A. Frazer at the Hotel du +Nord.</p> + +<p>Again, one bitter cold black day, we visited the +Abbey of St Denis, and went shivering through +its vaults, and were shown the last home prepared +by Napoleon for himself. The town was crowded +with troops on their march northwards. Once or +twice F. was able to ride to Paris; but it was hard +work. Amongst other amusements in Stain, we +had one not very agreeable, and which kept us in +a continual state of excitement. Our men were +continually setting fire to their quarters, particularly +the chateau of Admiral Rosily. The villagers +said this arose from their removing the +ashes, and making their fires on the bare hearth, +which thus became so hot as to set fire to the +beams beneath. They therefore advised the men +to leave the ashes and make their new fire on +them. This they did; but Admiral Rosily wrote +to tell me that no fires ought be lighted up-stairs +in his house, as the chimneys were only intended +as ventilators, and therefore begged us to confine +the fires to the ground-floor. At the stables +of the chateau, over which a detachment was +lodged, a fire occurred, and continued smouldering +in the beams for a fortnight, the centre remaining +on fire when we thought it extinguished.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_320"></a>[320]</span></p> + +<p>At length the period of our departure drew +nigh, and arrangements were made at headquarters +which totally disorganised my troop at the +moment when a perfect organisation was most +necessary. During the campaign, a detachment +of the driver-corps had been attached to each +troop of horse-artillery, our own establishment +being insufficient for the additional carriages. +These were now to be withdrawn and sent home; +and accordingly, all this rabble from Bull’s and +other troops still in the neighbourhood of Paris +were sent to mine as destined for England. +Secondly, all my officers were allowed to desert +me. Captain Webber protested he was too weak +to undertake such a journey, and obtained leave +to remain in Paris; my surgeon (Ambrose) was +permitted to remain in charge of him; Lieutenant +Bruce neither liked the winter-march +nor quitting Paris, where he was doing aide-de-camp +to his cousin, Lady Castlereagh; two lieutenants +(Maunsell and Wells) remained to march +with the troop; but the former had resolved on +leaving the service, and the latter had obtained +an exchange to a troop forming part of the +Army of Occupation, consequently he accompanies +us only a part of the way to Calais—and +thus no very great zeal could be expected<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_321"></a>[321]</span> +from either of these. Thirdly, we were ordered +to give up our white cross-belts to G troop, in +exchange for their waist-belts—exhibiting thus +our old worn jackets in all their nakedness. +Fourthly, our overalls were in rags—new ones had +been ordered, and were on the road from Brussels, +but we were not allowed to wait for them. Add +to all this the casualties of a long winter-march, +bad lodging, and worse weather, and the condition +of the troop on reaching Calais may +be imagined. The defection of Ambrose, however, +was counterbalanced by my old friend +Hitchins getting leave to accompany us to England. +He, too, intended quitting the service.</p> + +<p><i>December 16th.</i>—Hitchins joined us at Stain; +and as he brought his own bed, I gave him a +room in my chateau. The knotty question of how +F. and Angélique were to travel was settled between +them and Hitchins; and, overruling my +scruples, it was arranged that a cabriolet should +be hired for Calais, to be drawn by a pair of troop-horses, +with the driver for postilion. Accordingly, +on the 18th Hitchins went to Paris and procured +the vehicle, whilst we continued our preparations.</p> + +<p><i>19th.</i>—The troop under Maunsell marched at +an early hour for Beaumont, our first halting-place. +One would have fancied that the village<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_322"></a>[322]</span> +militia was about to quit home. No one thought +of work: the whole population of the commune +assembled in the park; endless the leave-takings, +and I believe sincere the expressions of friendship +and regrets at separation. Many of the cultivateurs, +whose carts we had taken for the baggage, +cheerfully volunteered accompanying us all the +way to Calais.</p> + +<p>Our own baggage delayed us so much that it +was eleven <span class="allsmcap">A.M.</span> before we were under way—F. +and Angélique (whose relations to the twentieth +degree had thronged our house all the morning) +in the <i lang="fr">calèche</i>, Hitchins and myself on horseback, +followed by Gunner Fitzgerald, my orderly, and +my groom Milward, in uniform and carrying my +Waterloo lance. The day was fine, and the +country pretty enough for the season; so that, +after getting on the chaussée at Pierrefitte, we +moved on merrily and agreeably until evening, +when the sky clouded over, it became very cold, +and soon a heavy fall of snow came on, in the +midst of which we arrived at Beaumont, and +found our people just forming the park, and those +of Major Dyas already snug in their quarters. +His battery had been ordered to march with us; +but he had also orders not to interfere in any way +with me or mine.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_323"></a>[323]</span></p> + +<p>Our billet was on an iron merchant, and thither +we proceeded, whilst Hitchins went in search of +his own. Our house was a respectable-looking +one outside; inside it was much like a great +foundry, or some such place—almost the whole +of it being one vast hall, lighted from above, and +full of bar-iron standing against the walls. An +open staircase conducted us to a small gallery; +up one more step and into a neat little room—but, +from the scarcity of furniture and badness +of the fire, looking sufficiently cheerless: a table, +covered as usual with oil-cloth, two or three +plain chairs, a bed without curtains, and windows +without shutters;—such was the domicile +into which we were ushered by a hideously ugly +and most sulky maid-servant. Assistance from +the house we soon found we must not expect, and +sent out for something to eat; but the answer +was <em>nil</em>, and we were forced to content ourselves +with some bad tea and bread-and-butter. The +evening was wretchedly cold, and our fire so insufficient +that we were glad to get to bed; but +here, again, were <em>wet</em> sheets, and we were obliged +to get between the blankets. Miserable evening!</p> + +<p><i>20th.</i>—Weather improved. Started about +eleven, and, traversing a beautiful and fertile +country, arrived in the afternoon at the pretty<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_324"></a>[324]</span> +village of Noailles, where we found ourselves +billeted on a rich old gentleman, who did not ask +us to his table, but in every other respect did his +utmost to make us comfortable; and so in reality +we were, for our apartment was delightfully so; +our fare good; and our host furnished us liberally +with good wine and cider. Passed the evening +playing dominoes, and wishing we could stay in +such nice quarters. Began to find Angélique<a id="FNanchor_28" href="#Footnote_28" class="fnanchor">[28]</a> +very useful in communicating with the people, +whose ways she understood better than we. +Noailles is but a poor village, although prettily +situated; however, there is a manufactory here +of those pretty bands which French women wear +below <em>the knee</em>.</p> + +<p><i>21st.</i>—A short march to Beauvais, where we +arrived early; and whilst I parked the guns and +saw my people put up, Hitchins accompanied F. +in search of my quarters. My duty finished, I +followed to a handsome house, where I understood +they were. Whilst making inquiries under +the gateway, Madame herself came out and told +me rather angrily that I could have no quarters +there, as the colonel (my travelling title) and his +lady already occupied all she was bound to furnish. +I endeavoured to explain that the gentleman<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_325"></a>[325]</span> +up-stairs was my friend, that I was M. le +Colonel, and had sent him to escort my wife, +&c. &c. At the word <i lang="fr">femme</i>, the <i lang="fr">insolente</i> with +a sneer turned from me with, “<span lang="fr">Ah! soi-disante.</span>” +A scene occurred; Monsieur himself came out, +who I insisted should be responsible for his +wife’s tongue. At last they begged pardon, and +I mounted the staircase according to direction, +and found a most comfortable lodging—two well-furnished +rooms and a small cabinet. The people +sent up soon after to invite us to dinner, they +being ordered to feed us; but we would not go, +and made them send dinner up to us. Our rooms +had only one drawback—they were rather +gloomy, the windows opening upon a courtyard. +Stayed three days in Beauvais, during which we +lived well at the expense of our host; and having +bought some cards, Hitchins came every evening +to coffee, and we had a game at casino. Our +mornings were passed in visiting the beautiful +Gothic cathedral and other churches; the manufactory +of tapestry, equalling that of the Gobelins, +of which this is a branch; in shopping, and in +riding about the neighbouring country, which is +pretty—somewhat resembling that about Bath. +One evening we went to the play—a dark dismal +house, and quite a second-rate set of actors.<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_326"></a>[326]</span> +Don’t know what the piece was, but the humour +consisted in the <i lang="fr">patois</i> of an old Picard servant, +who was continually repeating, “<span lang="fr">Ya! ya! ya! +Munsincur!</span>” There were a good many of us—all +the officers of Ross’s troop and Dyas’s battery, +<i lang="fr">par excellence</i>. The pit was full of French soldiers; +yet all went off cheerfully, until our people called +for “<span lang="fr">Vive Henri Quatre,</span>” which these Napoleonists +fiercely opposed, and a row ensued, which terminated +at last amicably. The ramparts of Beauvais +form a delicious promenade, which I enjoyed; +whilst F. and Hitchins were gadding about from +shop to shop, buying lace, cambric, &c.</p> + +<p><i>22d.</i>—I intended marching forward to-morrow, +but Quartermaster Robertson, who was sent on +to take up our quarters, returned at midnight +with the intelligence that all the villages ahead +of us were still full of troops. Relinquished the +idea.</p> + +<p>Major Dyas came to coffee. When he heard +of the insult offered to F. he insisted upon going +immediately to pull my host by the nose. +“<em>Bloody D.</em>” was one of those jewels we received +at the Union from the Irish artillery—tall, +gaunt, and muscular, with a most truculent +physiognomy. His cognomen was received on<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_327"></a>[327]</span> +account of the ferocity he had displayed in the +Irish Rebellion. Now he had become a gallant +Lothario (not a gay one), and, if report spoke +true, had already two wives, and had nearly succeeded +in picking up a third in Paris—daughter +of a gentleman of very good property, at whose +house he had been billeted. Strange how insinuating +these Irishmen are. To look at D. +one would never suppose that a girl, young +enough to be his daughter, handsome, and rich +withal, could ever have fallen in love with such +a man; and yet those best acquainted with +the affair assured me that it was indubitably +true.</p> + +<p><i>23d.</i>—Great market or fair—immense quantity +of woollen cloth, manufacture of the town and +neighbourhood. Preparations making for a grand +procession in honour of Jeanne Hachette, who +distinguished herself in the defence of the place +against the Duc de Bourgogne in 1740. Until +I looked into the history, I thought it had +been, as some of the people informed me, in honour +of Joan of Arc. Beauvais is a gloomy, old-fashioned +town; the streets very narrow, and, +during our stay, very dirty. What they might +be in summer I can’t guess, but they look as if<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_328"></a>[328]</span> +they must be then redolent of the same sulphurous +odour as those of Paris.</p> + +<p><i>24th.</i>—Marched to Grandvilliers; everything +looking wretched, for the day was dark and excessively +cold: in France, on such occasions, there +are no redeeming features. The country is in +most cases without enclosures, and the few trees, +stripped of their verdure, present most cheerless +pictures, unrelieved by any appearance of warmth +or comfort about the mean and wretched-looking +dwellings of the peasantry. These, when we +entered the village, presented rather a better appearance +than usual, for all were <i lang="fr">en habits de +Dimanche</i>, which was the day. Lodged F. in the +post-house (here an inn), and then went round +our billets. Village very large, two broad streets +crossing each other, but the houses all farms or +cottages, most of them of mud, like the Devonshire +cobbe, and all thatched; the site of the +place a dead flat, but pretty well clothed with +trees. At our post-house we procured a tolerably +decent though very small parlour, the chimney of +which, however, smoked so terribly that, spite of +the weather, we were obliged to sit constantly +with the door open; up-stairs (this was a sort +of addition to the original house projecting into +the yard) a bedroom of the same size, in which<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_329"></a>[329]</span> +were two beds; and nothing could exceed the +astonishment of our friend the chambermaid at +our arrangement of sleeping together. The inhabitants +here were ordered by beat of drum to +feed us. We now came under the command of +Sir Denis Park, who commands at Calais and up +the road as far as this place, he having the arrangement +of the embarkations.</p> + +<p>We lived well at our inn, and remedied the +open door by a large screen. Every evening we +saw company—<i>i. e.</i>, our officers—and, although +the weather was very cold, passed our time pleasantly +enough. One day an immense market or +fair afforded us ample amusement; another, our +attention and curiosity were excited by the arrival +of a troop of the National Guard, <i lang="fr">à cheval</i>, from +Beauvais; but, after staying the whole afternoon +and night, they departed the next morning without +our being a bit the wiser. One day the Earl +of Westmeath arrived, and stopped all night; his +lordship was obliged to put up with the rooms +we had rejected.</p> + +<p><i>January 1, 1816.</i>—At last the order for our +advance having arrived, we marched this morning +from Grandvilliers, several <i lang="fr">paysannes</i> of the +village following the troop as volunteers for +l’Angleterre, betraying the effects of idleness in<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_330"></a>[330]</span> +country quarters. Whilst preparing to set off, +our host presented a bill for our living, &c., +amounting to nine napoleons, which I was about +to pay, when Hitchins and F. interfered, asking +the good man whether he would have dared +appear before a Prussian officer with such a thing, +and telling him after the manner his countrymen +had treated all other countries that he ought to +think himself well off in being treated so leniently. +He did not subscribe to this, and an argument +ensued which I was sorry for, but was weak +enough to allow my better intentions to be overruled; +and at last, when Monsieur begged I would +at least certify that he had not been paid, I did +so on the bill, stating as reason that the inhabitants +had been ordered to feed us. Our march to +Poix, the next halting-place, was through a country +that never could be very interesting, still less +so in its wintry garb, until, from the summit of a +high hill, we looked down upon the lovely valley +in which that village is situated. On arriving +we found all the world <i lang="fr">en habit de Dimanche</i> +celebrating the opening of the new year. The +principal features in this celebration were the +kisses exchanging in all directions, the enormous +stiffly-starched caps of the women, and the music +that paraded continually through the streets.<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_331"></a>[331]</span> +The <i lang="fr">auberge</i> we found so noisy, smoky, dirty, and +the landlord such an uncivil brute, that we immediately +commenced a search for a better billet. +For a time success seemed uncertain; the houses +of the peasantry were too filthy to be thought of. +Not far from the <i lang="fr">auberge</i> we found a good house, +but shut-up doors and windows. In vain Hitchins +and I knocked and threatened, or asked information +of its inhabitants from the neighbours; +nobody would answer from within, and nobody +would answer without—at least more than “<span lang="fr">Je +n’en sais rien, monsieur.</span>” At last we found a +respectable sort of old-fashioned farmhouse, the +mistress of which (a widow) was factotum to the +Prince de Poix, proprietor of the village, and +much of the neighbouring country,—and hither +we immediately removed, bag and baggage. A +labyrinth of dark passages led to a large, gloomy, +wainscoted room, in one corner of which was a +great old-fashioned bed, with yellow damask curtains, +like the one we slept in at Breteuil. Here +we established ourselves, and Angélique had a +small cabinet hard by, whilst the men were put +up in the more distant part of the house occupied +by the family. Although there was a large fireplace, +in which we kept up capital fires, the place +was very cold; but a couple of old screens in<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_332"></a>[332]</span> +some measure remedied this, and at last we +thought ourselves tolerably comfortable. Our +park was formed on the site of the ancient castle +of the princes, now almost entirely gone, except a +few mounds marking out the ground-plan. The +village of Poix, though covering a great deal of +ground, is not large; for, except the few houses +standing contiguous to the <i lang="fr">auberge</i>, the others +are scattered up and down, widely apart from +each other. The situation is extremely pretty in +summer, probably beautiful: a deep and rather +narrow valley, with a small stream running +through it; partly below the village covered with +woods, which also ran over and clothed all the +surrounding hills—not close thick copse, but composed +of trees and thickets of coppice, through +which one might ride in all directions on a carpet +of turf. On a steep bank, immediately opposite +our dwelling, was the little church, unpretending, +but having a beautiful Gothic western doorway, +over which, as a record of revolutionary folly, was +painted in large letters, “<i lang="fr">Temple de la Raison</i>;” +these had been either whitewashed or painted +over, but insufficiently, for they were still distinctly +legible. The weather during our stay at Poix +(seven days) was gloomy and very cold, yet we +managed to have many interesting rides amongst<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_333"></a>[333]</span> +the woods. Hitchins dined with us always, and +came provided with some excellent wine, which +he procured from his own hostess. In one of our +walks, at the fork of the roads to Amiens and +Abbeville, we found a diminutive chapel with a +figure of the Virgin in it, and as diminutive a +priest, humpbacked. He showed us his chapel, +and we put some money into his box, and so +parted mutually satisfied. It was at this corner +that I met an elderly French veteran trudging +towards the village in his <i lang="fr">capote</i> and forage-cap, +with the usual goat-skin knapsack: he was <em>minus</em> +an arm, and upon questioning him I found that +he had left it at Waterloo. Something interesting +in this interview.</p> + +<p>In the village we found a corporal and four +privates of the 18th Hussars, stationed here for +despatches. The corporal fell in love with Angélique, +and proposed for her, but was rejected. +Her lover gave us an alert one night to deliver +a despatch (these hussars always come in the +night!), and I made sure we were off. It was +an order to have divine service every Sunday.</p> + +<p><i>8th.</i>—At length on the 7th the order did +come, and this day we marched to Airaines +through a sufficiently dismal country, and weather +very cold and gloomy, still followed by the girls<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_334"></a>[334]</span> +from Grandvilliers. Some part of the country, +from its hilliness and numerous orchards, in some +measure resembled Devonshire; but as we approached +the town these cease, and we saw again +only extensive and treeless plains.</p> + +<p>Airaines at first sight was not calculated to +remove the unpleasant feeling excited by its +neighbourhood: rather large for a country town, +and lying on a gentle slope; its streets irregular, +and buildings mean, dirty, and ruinous-looking;—altogether +very gloomy. Our billet was on the +<i lang="fr">auberge</i> where the diligences stopped, a house +of very inferior description, in which we did not +establish ourselves without difficulty, and then +wretchedly enough. For ourselves we got a room +with two dirty beds in it, and only the coarsest kind +of furniture; floor inch-thick in dirt, and having +chinks between the planks, so gaping that we could +see everything going on below—and being over +the gateway, the great lounge of the postilions, +<i lang="fr">gens-d’armes</i>, &c., we had not only the advantage +of all their conversation, but also of their eternal +tobacco-pipes; also the full benefit of a most cooling +breeze continually blowing through the gateway. +The only room we could procure for Angélique +was occupied by a postilion, and he was +unwilling to evacuate, so that a little tyranny<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_335"></a>[335]</span> +became necessary to gain possession. We turned +him out <i lang="fr">vi et armis</i>. In this wretched place we +remained a fortnight, during which the weather, +always gloomy, was at times bitterly cold, or +heavy rain. As the whole troop could not be +lodged here, it was necessary to detach Maunsell +with one division to a village at least five miles +off; and Wells, pretending there was no lodging +to be procured here, asked leave to accompany +him—notwithstanding which, our surgeon, Ambrose, +who overtook us here, immediately obtained +very comfortable quarters. Hitchins also was +uncommonly well lodged in the house of an old +smuggler. Our park was formed on an open +space by the road to Abbeville, just without the +town, where, as the weather was too cold for our +guard to remain in a tent, I asked the mayor to +procure them accommodation in a house hard by. +This he refused, until I made preparations to +bring our park into the market-place, which +alarmed him so much that he immediately complied. +The market-place, by the way, was precisely +similar to the old buildings one sees in +English country towns; and here the two +Sundays during our stay I performed divine +service. To pass our time here we sometimes +rode about the dreary neighbourhood, where we<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_336"></a>[336]</span> +discovered a ruined castle; and in another part +a rather pretty village, with a fine manor-house +and park; but the people soon drove us away +from this last, not only by their abuse, but even +pelting us with stones. In bad weather we resorted +to a wretched billiard-table opposite our +inn, where I taught F. the game, and drank +bitter coffee to my cigars. There was nothing +extraordinary in her frequenting this table, as it +is customary for females to do so; and there were +seldom any other people present than our own.</p> + +<p>In addition to our other occupations, the +diligence afforded a daily and short amusement +as it stopped at our inn-door. I can see now +the great lumbering machine just drawn up, +a clown in a blue smock-frock, linen forage-cap +with a huge peak sticking straight out, and +a long coach-whip in hand, seated on the near +wheeler, guiding by cord-reins the three cart-horses +harnessed abreast as leaders; and two +tall soldier-like <i lang="fr">gens-d’armes</i>, in their neat blue +uniforms and cocked-hats, stepping up to the +door, and whilst one examines the way-bill, the +other mounts the step of the vehicle and scrutinises +the passengers. They were fine fellows +these, and we got tolerably intimate with them. +Every evening Hitchins came to us and played<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_337"></a>[337]</span> +a rubber of casino. One evening standing at our +window, we saw some sheep come down the +opposite street; two or three went into the passage +of a house, the door of which was instantly +closed by an old woman, and we both exclaimed, +“Ah, the wretch! she steals the sheep.” Our servants +who stood by laughed, and explained that +the old shepherd (who now appeared sauntering +slowly along) was the guardian of the town flock, +which he conducted to pasture daily.</p> + +<p>Accordingly the next morning the old man +again marched under our window towards the +fields, blowing his horn, at which sound the door +opposite again opened, and out sallied the same +sheep following the old man, and forming with +others assembling from all quarters a large flock, +which we found him with in the fields when we +went to ride.</p> + +<p><i>22d.</i>—Marched to Abbeville. Billeted on a +velvet manufacturer with a pretty wife; excellent +house, comfortable living. Visit the cathedral +and walk about the town.</p> + +<p>Forgot that I tried one of my men by a court-martial +at Airaines upon a charge of stealing +bacon, brought against him by a peasant of the +village where Maunsell was quartered. Sent on +to Abbeville for a captain, and Close came over<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_338"></a>[338]</span> +for the purpose. The <i lang="fr">patois</i> of the witnesses was +so mixed up with English as to astonish us; +one in particular we shrewdly suspected of being +an English deserter. It was, however, only the +<i lang="fr">patois</i> of Picardy. “Yes” was much oftener used +than <span lang="fr">“oui</span>” by them. On our way here from +Airaines, descending to the Somme at Point de +Remy, I saw a very large Roman encampment +on a neighbouring hill: country about the river +pretty as usual. Here most of my horses were +put up in the riding-school of the cavalry barrack. +Our host’s family consisted of himself, a +grown-up son, a female cousin, and his pretty +wife, who was very civil, and went shopping with +F., but disgusted me at breakfast by holding +up a beastly pocket-handkerchief and spitting +at it.</p> + +<p><i>23d.</i>—Much pleased at marching to Montreuil, +as we had expected Rue and Nampont would +have been our destination. Comfortable inn—the +same Sterne was at; and our <i lang="fr">salle</i> the identical +room in which LaFleur slept—so said our host. +Excellent dinner: Hitchins dined with us, and +we drank two bottles of prime champagne. +Wells left us here to join my old troop at St +Pol. As we were tired, we slept so soundly that +we never knew until morning that the house had<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_339"></a>[339]</span> +been set on fire during the night by a drunken +officer of infantry.</p> + +<p><i>24th.</i>—Wretched morning, snowing heavily, +and very cold. Hitchins suffered much from +our ride, and got sulky because F. and Angélique +laughed at him. Stopped at Samer to +see our friends the Demoiselles Mallet, and get +some hot wine.</p> + +<p>At Boulogne our billet was on a capital house; +but our host, an old officer (I think colonel), extremely +sulky and disobliging—obliged to send to +a restaurateur’s for our dinner. Walked about +the town and on the ramparts. No snow here, +though the weather was excessively raw and +windy. Ramparts pretty; the only trees in the +neighbourhood are on them.</p> + +<p>At night had gone to bed, expecting to remain +a day or two, and were not yet asleep when some +one tapped at our window, which opened into a +little flagged court. I got up and found a hussar +(as usual), who brought me a note, which I could +not read until he went and got a light. It was +an order to march to-morrow to Guines.</p> + +<p><i>25th.</i>—As our landlord (commandant of the +National Guard) had been anything but civil, we +set off without taking leave of him. Other cavalry +besides ourselves had halted in Boulogne, and we<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_340"></a>[340]</span> +found the road covered with troops, stragglers, +and baggage. Amidst these we struggled on as +far as Marquise, where we left the chaussée for +a villanous cross-road, by which, about noon, we +arrived at Guines, a very pretty little town, and +the day being fine, a very cheerful-looking one. +Our billet (if billet it were) was a capital one—the +Chateau de Beauscite; the owner, M. le Baron +de Guesclin, with Madame and his daughters, received +us most kindly. The family consisted of +M. le Baron, a good-natured, but ugly, and not +very genteel-looking man, about sixty; Madame +la Baronne, a jolly good-looking woman of forty; +one very sickly-looking daughter about twenty-two; +another a year or so older, hideously marked +with small-pox, but extremely obliging and good-natured; +and a tall awkward son of about twenty. +The house comfortable and well furnished. We +were treated quite on the footing of guests, and +even welcome ones. Style of living much the +same as that of an English country gentleman of +easy fortune. After dinner the Baron proposed +showing us our room and the house. Passing +through his own bedroom, with a knowing wink +he gave me to understand that he did not follow +modern fashions in sleeping separate from his +wife; for, pointing to the ample and handsome<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_341"></a>[341]</span> +bed, he exclaimed loud enough to be heard by +all, “<span lang="fr">M., voilà la fabrique des enfans!</span>” Madame +looked archly over her shoulder at me and burst +out laughing.</p> + +<p><i>26th.</i>—Fine day. Breakfast of tea, &c., got up +expressly for us, as when alone they have no such +regular meal, but merely take a cup of coffee. +Afterwards the son showed me the stables, stud, +farm, &c., and then, mounted on a long-tailed +Norman horse, with military saddle and bridle, +took us to see the obelisk erected on the spot +where Blanchard descended after crossing the +Channel in his balloon. The country pretty, because +well wooded; and from the hill I once more +saw the white cliffs of England, although I will +not pretend to have experienced any very great +delight in so doing, as the future promised nothing +good, and I would rather have remained in France. +Reduction, Woolwich duties, and insipidity from +the total absence of excitement—such was the +prospect before me.</p> + +<p>In the afternoon a very handsome young man +(an officer in some cavalry corps) came in and +dined with us. His father, an old gentleman of +good fortune in the neighbourhood, had served +many years in the hussars, and was (I believe) +Madame’s brother. In the evening came in the<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_342"></a>[342]</span> +family confessor—a fat, greasy priest—who made +himself quite at home; but they did not seem +over well pleased with his company. Servants +singing in the kitchen: opened a little trap in the +wall of a cupboard which communicated with the +kitchen to hear a young girl from St Omer sing +“<span lang="fr">Brulant d’Amour</span>” and “<span lang="fr">Partant pour la Guerre,</span>” +which she did with great sweetness. Our hopes +of enjoying this pleasant billet for some days +disappointed by the order to march to-morrow +into Calais, only eight miles off.</p> + +<p><i>27th.</i>—Gloomy cold day. A mass to be celebrated +for the soul of Louis XVI. I had promised +M. le Baron to allow my men to assist in the +procession, but instead was obliged to take leave +as they were about to begin. Early in the morning +all the front of the chateau was hung with +black cloth. Nothing could be kinder or even +more affectionate than our leave-taking, and Madame +obliged F. to wrap up in a rich <i lang="fr">pelerin</i> +of her own, which we were to leave at Quillacq’s. +The distance being so short, we were not long on +the road, which for the most part lay along the +canal as far as St Pierre, a great straggling suburb +of Calais, in which we were to halt. Nothing +could be worse than our accommodations here—horses +and men scattered about by twos and<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_343"></a>[343]</span> +threes, far and wide; some of them were sent +back almost to Guines—so near at least as to hear +distinctly the church-bells. As for us, we were +put into a farmhouse, where they gave us a room +without a fireplace, insufferable in such a season; +therefore, being obliged to go into Calais to report +our arrival to Webber Smith, I left F. and +Hitchins hunting for another quarter. After +some trouble I got a billet from the Quartermaster-General +on the Lion d’Argent, in Calais, +kept by an impudent English scoundrel named +Oakshot, who was not at all well pleased at our +being put on him. Rode back to St Pierre, where +I found F. and Hitchins in a bedroom they had +procured at a dirty smoky <i lang="fr">brasserie</i>; so we all +adjourned together to the Silver Lion.</p> + +<p>Here we were detained some time, which, however, +was of less consequence, as we were lodged +well and fed well. In other respects, however, +the detention was anything but pleasant. Calais +at the best of times must be a dismal stupid hole; +at this season of storms, cold, rain, mud, &c. &c. +it was scarcely endurable. Great part of my day +was passed at or about the pier, whence, from +time to time as vessels arrived, we shipped off +some of our people.</p> + +<p>Nothing can be imagined more harassing and<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_344"></a>[344]</span> +destructive than this process of embarkation. For +example, my people, as before mentioned, were +dispersed in all directions round the neighbourhood, +even to the distance of six or eight miles, +by twos and threes, &c., so that they were under +no control whatever. Meantime the guns, ammunition-waggons, +&c., all dismounted and ready +to put on board, remained exposed to all the +weather on the pier. At daylight in the morning, +according to orders, men and horses assembled +there also, and remained—rain, hail, wind +or snow (of all which we had plenty)—until dusk +in the evening, when they were permitted to return +to their billets for the night. Nothing could be +more subversive of discipline and harassing to +the men, or more ruinous to the horses; yet, +from the system adopted by those who ruled the +transport service, it could not well be avoided, +since the vessels engaged were all schooners, +sloops, &c.; and it was necessary, when any of +these returned for a fresh cargo, that the embarkation +should be as prompt as possible, not only +for the more expeditiously getting the troops +across, but because they were obliged to leave +the harbour with the same tide, or remain twelve +hours. These vessels did not go all to one place; +thus my troop was landed by sixes and sevens at<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_345"></a>[345]</span> +Dover, Sandwich, Deal, Ramsgate, &c., and then +assembled at Canterbury. Webber Smith was +our immediate commanding officer here; and Sir +Denis Park, who commanded, occasionally rode +down to see how things were going on, so that +there was no getting out of the way, and our only +relief was an occasional stroll about the muddy, +dismal streets, lounging in some of the shops, +&c. Thus time hung heavily on our hands. +Hitchins had left us on the very first evening +of our arrival at the Silver Lion, and we sadly +missed his kind attentions—especially F., who, +whilst I was at the pier, had no one to escort her +about, and of course in such a place going alone +was out of the question. I found a pleasing companion +to while away time at the pier in the +harbour-master, an old captain of the French +navy, and a well-informed, gentlemanly person, +from whom I picked up a good deal of information. +I cannot omit noting the fact that +a female bookseller here, whose <i lang="fr">magazin</i> we +sometimes frequented, one day let out that she +implicitly believed every one of the absurd lies +respecting England contained in General Pelet’s +book, and would hardly credit our contradiction +of them.</p> + +<p>At last our tedious detention came, like all<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_346"></a>[346]</span> +things else, to a conclusion. Two sloops, capable +of containing all the remainder of my troop, came +in one evening too late to sail before next morning, +and with this last party I decided on embarking. +When Angélique heard this she came and +begged I would lend her a suit of my plain +clothes, as the prefect had prohibited French +women going with the English, and had already +stopped many. Here was a dilemma. My old +Scotch quartermaster, however, got us out of it. +I don’t know how he passed the gates, but he did +manage on the morning of the 25th January 1816 +to smuggle Angélique on board before daylight, +and conceal her below, without the necessity of +changing her female for male attire.</p> + +<p>After breakfast we embarked and immediately +sailed. Webber Smith went with us, as we were +the very last of the Royal Horse-Artillery. The +weather was gloomy, cold, and stormy, but the +wind was fair, and we were off Dover early in the +afternoon. The tide would not admit even our +little sloop into this miserable harbour before +midnight, and she was hove to almost within +speaking distance of the pier-head. Not relishing +this position, we were glad to avail ourselves of a +pilot-gig that came off and go ashore—although<span class="pagenum"><a id="Page_347"></a>[347]</span> +these fellows charged us a guinea a-head for thus +carrying us about 200 yards.</p> + +<p>After an early dinner at the York Hotel, Smith +set off post for Blackheath, where his family was +residing.</p> + +<p><i>26th.</i>—To Canterbury. F. and Angélique in a +post-chaise, to which I and Milward (carrying his +lance) served as an escort, for I had no men to +march with.</p> + +<p>So ended the memorable campaign of 1815.</p> + + +<p class="p4 pfs90">THE END.</p> + + +<p class="p4 pfs70">PRINTED BY WILLIAM BLACKWOOD AND SONS, EDINBURGH.</p> + + +<div class="footnotes"><h2>FOOTNOTES:</h2> + +<div class="footnote"> + +<p><a id="Footnote_1" href="#FNanchor_1" class="label">[1]</a> There was a species of Malmsey Madeira, the most delicious +wine imaginable. The cellar seemed well stocked, and our table +consequently was well supplied.</p> + +</div> + +<div class="footnote"> + +<p><a id="Footnote_2" href="#FNanchor_2" class="label">[2]</a> These people were deputies sent from the Provisional Government +to treat with the Duke, but I have never made out yet who +he of the decoration might have been.</p> + +</div> + +<div class="footnote"> + +<p><a id="Footnote_3" href="#FNanchor_3" class="label">[3]</a> The close Prussian collar, now so well known to the British +army, was a novelty to us then: our collars were low, and cut +down in front. The cavalry and horse-artillery particularly +affected very narrow sloping collars.</p> + +</div> + +<div class="footnote"> + +<p><a id="Footnote_4" href="#FNanchor_4" class="label">[4]</a> This must have been a mistake, for the Duke dates his despatches +from Loures on the 30th June, and the headquarters +would hardly have been established in a place so utterly destroyed +as is here described. Perhaps the place was La Chapelle, +which I find in the map. My recollection of the scene here +portrayed is quite perfect even now, although not of the +name.</p> + +</div> + +<div class="footnote"> + +<p><a id="Footnote_5" href="#FNanchor_5" class="label">[5]</a> This makes it appear that my notes are right, answering with +the map as they do.</p> + +</div> + +<div class="footnote"> + +<p><a id="Footnote_6" href="#FNanchor_6" class="label">[6]</a> We did this to be enabled to march more expeditiously and +freely, observing this road to be quite clear of troops.</p> + +</div> + +<div class="footnote"> + +<p><a id="Footnote_7" href="#FNanchor_7" class="label">[7]</a> Bourget.</p> + +</div> + +<div class="footnote"> + +<p><a id="Footnote_8" href="#FNanchor_8" class="label">[8]</a> Mistake. They passed at St Germain on the 30th June, and +were in position between Plessis Picquet and St Cloud, with reserve +at Versailles, on 2d July.—See Duke’s despatch.</p> + +</div> + +<div class="footnote"> + +<p><a id="Footnote_9" href="#FNanchor_9" class="label">[9]</a> Several regiments from America marched through Garges this +evening, and took up their station in front—fine corps of veterans, +all having served in the Peninsula, and subsequently in +America. Many a cheer from old comrades greeted their arrival. +It was a soul-stirring sight, the proud march of these well-tried +troops into our camp.</p> + +</div> + +<div class="footnote"> + +<p><a id="Footnote_10" href="#FNanchor_10" class="label">[10]</a> Amongst these parties some were of the <i lang="fr">haut-ton</i>, and I saw +many very elegant women. Indeed, amongst the bourgeoise there +was no lack of beauty, and in manner much to admire, since they +infinitely surpass our countrywomen of the same class in gracefulness +of carriage and gentility of address.</p> + +</div> + +<div class="footnote"> + +<p><a id="Footnote_11" href="#FNanchor_11" class="label">[11]</a> Three windmills and an obelisk stand upon the summit next +the gap, and a single mill on the isolated hill beyond it. The +neighbourhood of Paris may be said to be characterised by the +windmills which occupy every height, and thus testify to the +sluggish nature of the streams watering the plains by the want of +water-power.</p> + +</div> + +<div class="footnote"> + +<p><a id="Footnote_12" href="#FNanchor_12" class="label">[12]</a> The Prussians seize all forage not under escort and for our +own use. Had they known this last was not the case, our non-commissioned +officer would have availed little.</p> + +</div> + +<div class="footnote"> + +<p><a id="Footnote_13" href="#FNanchor_13" class="label">[13]</a> In English we have no word which will translate.</p> + +</div> + +<div class="footnote"> + +<p><a id="Footnote_14" href="#FNanchor_14" class="label">[14]</a> The <i lang="fr">cornette</i>.</p> + +</div> + +<div class="footnote"> + +<p><a id="Footnote_15" href="#FNanchor_15" class="label">[15]</a> Le Nôtre had five feet (French) difference of level between one +side and the other to remove. There is no accounting for taste.</p> + +</div> + +<div class="footnote"> + +<p><a id="Footnote_16" href="#FNanchor_16" class="label">[16]</a> It once was a garden, but was destroyed by the great fire.</p> + +</div> + +<div class="footnote"> + +<p><a id="Footnote_17" href="#FNanchor_17" class="label">[17]</a> These <i lang="fr">bergeries</i> are very numerous in the neighbourhood of +Paris, where it seems the fashion among the great proprietors to +keep flocks of merinos. Almost every chateau has its <i lang="fr">bergerie</i> +and <i lang="fr">vacherie</i>. We have one here in Stain belonging to M. le +Marquis de Livry, as I know to my cost. The <i lang="fr">bergerie</i> consists +of low sheds, forming a square. Within, they are fitted up with +low racks for hay. The sheep are kept in these all the winter, +and at night during the summer.</p> + +</div> + +<div class="footnote"> + +<p><a id="Footnote_18" href="#FNanchor_18" class="label">[18]</a> I cannot <span class="allsmcap">FEEL</span> in public, especially when a <em>showman</em> is telling +me in a garbled manner that which would spontaneously +flash across the memory if left to one’s self. When we do not +<em>feel</em>, we <em>can’t write</em>.</p> + +</div> + +<div class="footnote"> + +<p><a id="Footnote_19" href="#FNanchor_19" class="label">[19]</a> Angélique told me since that Mademoiselle Rose fled to the +woods with the rest of the villagers, and only returned when +they did.</p> + +</div> + +<div class="footnote"> + +<p><a id="Footnote_20" href="#FNanchor_20" class="label">[20]</a> I suspect a fact I have since remembered must have suggested +the idea of charging us with the lead. Finding the horses very +ragged when I first joined the troop, I ordered all their manes +to be plaited and loaded with lead, of which a sufficiency could +have been picked up about the chateau or lawn, or off the ends +or remnants of the <em>already</em> cut pipes.</p> + +</div> + +<div class="footnote"> + +<p><a id="Footnote_21" href="#FNanchor_21" class="label">[21]</a> The two reserve troops.</p> + +</div> + +<div class="footnote"> + +<p><a id="Footnote_22" href="#FNanchor_22" class="label">[22]</a> Under the cliffs at the other extremity, near the Barrière de +Clichy, is a similar mound, originating, no doubt, in the same +way. It is now covered with fine trees, and forms an agreeable +object as one approaches the Barrière. Its name (<i lang="fr">Monceau</i>) perhaps +points to its origin.</p> + +</div> + +<div class="footnote"> + +<p><a id="Footnote_23" href="#FNanchor_23" class="label">[23]</a> Early riser as I am, my neighbour here beat me considerably, +for I always used to hear him harnessing his horses for +work before daylight, which he did with a pretty annoying +quantity of noise and chattering.</p> + +</div> + +<div class="footnote"> + +<p><a id="Footnote_24" href="#FNanchor_24" class="label">[24]</a> To me the most interesting part of this mound was its +history, rising abruptly as it does so much above the surrounding +ground. Is it an enormous barrow, like Silbury, or is it a natural +accumulation of alluvium?</p> + +</div> + +<div class="footnote"> + +<p><a id="Footnote_25" href="#FNanchor_25" class="label">[25]</a> It must be remembered that in those days these, as well as +many other things quite common in England, were novelties to +Englishmen.</p> + +</div> + +<div class="footnote"> + +<p><a id="Footnote_26" href="#FNanchor_26" class="label">[26]</a> The rough journal from which I have with much trouble +compiled this copy is here so confused and imperfect as to be of +little or no use; and my great auxiliaries—letters to my wife, +from which I was enabled to correct or confirm dates, and to +make more circumstantial many subjects only mentioned in the +journal—I have unwittingly destroyed. During my stay at Stain, +too, I wrote by fits and starts. Amongst new scenes of every +kind, and new people, the excitement was too great to admit of +shutting one’s self up for study or writing. Thus, from the period +I have now reached, my means are so few, that it is quite impossible +to bring my journal (as I wished) down to our final departure +from France—as complete as it might have been.</p> + +</div> + +<div class="footnote"> + +<p><a id="Footnote_27" href="#FNanchor_27" class="label">[27]</a> At three in the morning, when Lord Charles and his companion +immediately landed and tried to persuade me to do the +same, but I remained on board until daylight.</p> + +</div> + +<div class="footnote"> + +<p><a id="Footnote_28" href="#FNanchor_28" class="label">[28]</a> She cooked for us here.</p> + +</div> +</div> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"></div> + +<div class="p4 transnote"> +<a id="TN"></a> +<p><strong>TRANSCRIBER’S NOTE</strong></p> + +<p>Footnote <span class="fnanchor">[21]</span> is referenced twice from <a href="#Page_197">page 197</a>.</p> + +<p>Obvious typographical errors and punctuation errors have been +corrected after careful comparison with other occurrences within +the text and consultation of external sources.</p> + +<p>Some hyphens in words have been silently removed, some added, +when a predominant preference was found in the original book.</p> + +<p>Except for those changes noted below, all misspellings in the text, +and inconsistent or archaic usage, have been retained.</p> + +<p> +<a href="#tn-15">Pg 15</a>: ‘sout de vrais brigands’ replaced by ‘sont de vrais brigands’.<br> +<a href="#tn-62">Pg 62</a>: ‘the poperty of’ replaced by ‘the property of’.<br> +<a href="#tn-71">Pg 71</a>: ‘Inhabiants there’ replaced by ‘Inhabitants there’.<br> +<a href="#tn-87">Pg 87</a>: ‘cornetts’ replaced by ‘cornettes’.<br> +<a href="#tn-115">Pg 115</a>: ‘Cossac’s wounds’ replaced by ‘Cossack’s wounds’.<br> +<a href="#tn-183">Pg 183</a>: ‘M. le Berger de’ replaced by ‘M. le Berger and’.<br> +<a href="#tn-197">Pg 197</a>: ‘Garges, Arnonville’ replaced by ‘Garges, Arnouville’.<br> +<a href="#tn-244">Pg 244</a>: ‘pleasing undulalation’ replaced by ‘pleasing undulation’.<br> +<a href="#tn-278">Pg 278</a>: ‘the slighest moment’ replaced by ‘the slightest moment’.<br> +<a href="#tn-286">Pg 286</a>: ‘a a delicate pink’ replaced by ‘a delicate pink’.<br> +</p> +</div> + +<div style='text-align:center'>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 75873 ***</div> +</body> +</html> + diff --git a/75873-h/images/cover.jpg b/75873-h/images/cover.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..3dd30aa --- /dev/null +++ b/75873-h/images/cover.jpg |
