SECTION 20. (1793-6) (continued 8)

THE FETE DIEU.

Brussels in general was then inhabited by catholics, and catholic ceremonies were not unfrequent. In particular, la Fte Dieu was kept with much pomp, and a procession of priests paraded the streets, accompanied by images, pictures paintings, tapestry, and other insignia of outward and visible worship; and the windows were hung with carpets, and rugs, and mats, and almost with rags, to prove good will, at least, to what they deem a pious show. Ludicrous circumstances without end interrupted, or marred the procession, from frequent hard showers, during which the priests, decorated with splendid robes and petticoats, and ornaments the most gaudy, took sudden refuge at the doors of the houses by which they were passing, and great cloths, towels, or coarse canvas, were flung over the consecrated finery, and the relics were swaddled up in flannels, while dirt, splashes, running, scampering, and ludicrous wrappings up, broke at once and disfigured the procession.

THE ECCENTRIC LADY CAROLINE LAMB.

At Madame de la Tour du Pin's I kept the fte of Madame de Maurville, with a large and pleasant party; and I just missed meeting the famous Lady Caroline Lamb,(276) who had been there at dinner, and whom I saw, however, crossing the Place Royale, from Madame de la Tour du Pin's to the Grand Hotel ; dressed, Or rather not dressed, so as to excite universal attention, and authorise every boldness of staring, from the general to the lowest soldier, among the military groups then constantly parading the Place,-for she had one shoulder, half her back, and all her throat and neck, displayed as if at the call of some statuary for modelling a heathen goddess. A slight scarf hung over the other shoulder, and the rest Of the attire was of accordant lightness. As her ladyship had

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not then written, and was not, therefore, considered as one apart, from being known as an eccentric authoress, this conduct and demeanour excited something beyond surprise,

and in an English lady provoked censure, if not derision, upon the whole English nation.

A PROPOSED ROYAL CORPS.

Monsieur le Duc de Luxembourg came to inform me that he was on the point of negotiating with the Duke of Wellington and Prince Blcher, upon raising a royal corps to accompany their army into France, should the expected battle lead to that result ; and he desired me to prepare M. d'Arblay, should such be the case, for a recall from Trves, that he might resume his post in the body-guards belonging to the Compagnie de Luxembourg. He spoke of my beloved in terms of such high consideration, and with expressions so amiable of regard and esteem, that he won my heart. He could by no means, he said, be again under active military orders, and consent to lose so distinguished an officer from his corps. I had formerly met the duke in Paris, at Madame de Laval's - and he bad honoured me with a visit chez moi immediately after my return from England: and in consequence of those meetings, and of his real friendship for M. d'Arblay, he now spoke to me with the unreserved trust due to a tried confidant in case of peril and urgency. He stayed with me nearly two hours-for when once the heart ventured to open itself upon the circumstances, expectations, or apprehensions of. that eventful period, subjects, opinions, and feelings pressed forward with such eagerness for discussion, that those who upon such conditions met, found nothing so difficult as to separate.

I wrote instantly to M. d'Arblay ; but the duke's plan proved abortive, as the Duke of Wellington and Prince Blcher refused all sanction to the junction of a French army With that of the allies. The thought, -perhaps-and perhaps Justly, that by entering France with natives against natives, they might excite a civil war, more difficult to conduct than that of only foreigners against foreigners.

PAINFUL SUSPENSE.

Suspense, during all this period, was frightfully mistress of '-,,the mind; nothing was known, everything was imagined. Page 346

The two great interests that were at war, the Bourbonists and Bonapartists, were divided and sub-divided into factions, or rather fractions, without end, and all that was kept invariably and on both sides alive was expectation. Wanderers, deserters or captives from France, arrived daily at Brussels, all with varying news of the state of that empire, and of the designs of Bonaparte amongst them. The Chevalier d'Argy made me a visit, to deliver me a letter from M. de Premorel, for M. d'Arblay. This gentleman was just escaped from Sedan in the disguise of a paysan, and assisted by a paysanne, belonging to his family. She conducted him through by-paths and thick forests, that she knew to be least frequented by the troops, police, or custom-house officers of *Bonaparte. He was going to offer his services to the king, Louis XVIII. I had much interesting public news from M. d'Argy : but I pass by all now except personal detail, as I write but for my nearest friends; and all that was then known of public occurrence has long been stale. . . .

During this melancholy period when leisure, till now a delight, became a burthen to me, I could not call my faculties into any species of intellectual service; all was sunk, was annihilated in the overpowering predominance of anxiety for the coming event. I endured my suspense only by writing to or hearing from him who was its object. All my next dear connections were well. I heard from them satisfactorily, and I was also engaged in frequent correspondence with the Princess Elizabeth, whose letters are charming, not only from their vivacity, their frankness, and condescension, but from a peculiarity of manner, the result of having mixed little with the world, that, joined to great fertility of fancy, gives a something so singular and so genuine to her style of writing, as to render her letters desirable and interesting, independent of the sincere and most merited attachment which their gracious kindness inspires.

INQUIETUDE AT BRUSSELS.

I come now to busier scenes, and to my sojourn at Brussels during the opening of one of the most famous campaigns upon record ; and the battle of Waterloo, upon which, in great measure, hung the fate of Europe.

Yet upon reflection, I will write no account of these great events, which have been detailed so many hundred times, and Page 347

so many hundred ways, as I have nothing new to offer upon them ; I will simply write the narrative of my own history at that awful period.

I was awakened in the middle of the night by confused noises in the house, and running up and down stairs. I listened attentively, but heard no sound of voices, and soon all was quiet. I then concluded the persons who resided in the apartments on the second floor, over my head, had returned home later and I tried to fall asleep again.

I succeeded; but I was again awakened at about five o'clock in the morning Friday, 16th June, by the sound of a bugle in the March aux Bois: I started up and opened the window. But I only perceived some straggling soldiers, hurrying in different directions, and saw lights gleaming from some of the chambers in the neighbourhood : all again was soon still, and my own dwelling in profound silence, and therefore I concluded there had been some disturbance in exchanging sentinels at the various posts, which was already appeased: and I retired once more to my pillow, and remained till my usual hour.

I was finishing, however, a letter for my best friend, when my breakfast was brought in, at my then customary time of eight o'clock; and, as mistakes and delays and miscarriages of letters had caused me much unnecessary misery, I determined to put what I was then writing in the post myself, and set off with it the moment it was sealed.

THE BLACK BRUNSWICKERS.

In my way back from the post-office, my ears were alarmed by the sound of military music, and my eyes equally struck with the sight of a body of troops marching to its measured time. But I soon found that what I had supposed to be an occasionally passing troop, was a complete corps; infantry, cavalry artillery, bag and baggage, with all its officers in full uniform, and that uniform was black. This gloomy hue gave an air so mournful to the procession, that, knowing its destination for battle, I contemplated with an aching heart. On inquiry, I learned it was the army of Brunswick. How much deeper yet had been my heartache had I foreknown that nearly all those brave men, thus marching on in gallant though dark array, with their valiant royal chief(277) at their head, Page 348

the nephew of my own king, George III., were amongst the first destined victims to this dreadful contest, and that neither the chief, nor the greater part of his warlike associates, would within a few short hours, breathe again the vital air !

My interrogations were answered with brevity, yet curiosity was all awake and all abroad; for the procession lasted some hours. Not a door but was open; not a threshold but was crowded, and not a window of the many-windowed gothic modern, frightful, handsome, quaint, disfigured, fantastic, or lofty mansions that diversify the large' market-place of Brussels, but was occupied by lookers on. Placidly, indeed, they saw the warriors pass : no kind greeting welcomed their arrival; no warm wishes followed them to combat. Neither, on the other hand, was there the slightest symptom of dissatisfaction ; yet even while standing thus in the midst of them, an unheeded, yet observant stranger, it was not possible for me to discern, with any solidity of conviction, whether the Belgians were, at heart, Bourbonists or Bonapartists. The Bonapartists, however, were in general the most open, for the opinion on both sides, alike with good will and with ill, was nearly universal that Bonaparte was invincible.

THE OPENING OF THE CAMPAIGN.

Still, I knew not, dreamt not, that the campaign was already opened - that Bonaparte had broken into La Belgique on the 15th, and had taken Charleroi; though it was news undoubtedly spread all over Brussels except to my lonely self. My own disposition, at this period, to silence and retirement, was too congenial with the taciturn habits of my hosts to be by them counteracted, and they suffered me, therefore, to return to my home as I had quitted it, with a mere usual and civil salutation ; while themselves and their house were evidently continuing their common avocations with their common composure. Surely our colloquial use of the word phlegm must be derived from the character of the Flemings.

The important tidings now, however, burst upon me in sundry directions. The Princesse d'Henin, Colonel de Beaufort, Madame de Maurville, the Boyd family, all, with intelligence of the event, joined offers of service, and invitations to reside with them during this momentous contest, should I prefer such protection to remaining alone at such a crisis. Page 349

What a day of confusion and alarm did we all spend on the 17th! In my heart the whole time was Trves! Trves! Trves! That day, and June 18th, I passed in hearing the cannon! Good heaven! what indescribable horror to be so near the field of slaughter! such I call it, for the preparation to the ear by the tremendous sound was soon followed by its fullest effect, in the view of the wounded, the bleeding martyrs to the formidable contention that was soon to terminate the history of the war. And hardly more afflicting was this disabled return from the battle, than the sight of the continually pouring forth ready-armed and vigorous victims that marched past my windows to meet similar destruction.

NEWS FROM THE FIELD OF BATTLE.

Accounts from the field of battle arrived hourly; sometimes directly from the Duke of Wellington to Lady Charlotte Greville, and to some other ladies who had near relations in the combat, and which, by their means, were circulated in Brussels ; and at other times from such as conveyed those amongst the wounded Belgians, whose misfortunes were -inflicted near enough to the skirts of the spots of action, to allow of their being dragged away by their hovering countrymen to the city : the spots, I say, of action, for the far-famed battle of Waterloo was preceded by three days of partial engagements.

During this period, I spent my whole time in seeking and passing from house to house of the associates of my distress, or receiving them in mine. Ten times, at least, I crossed over to Madame d'Henin, discussing plans and probabilities, and interchanging hopes and fears. I spent a considerable part of the morning with Madame de la Tour -du Pin, who was now returned from Gand, where Louis XVIII. supported his suspense and his danger with a coolness and equanimity which, when the clat surrounding the glory of his daring and great opponent shall no longer by its overpowering resplendence keep all around it in the shade, will carry him down to posterity as the monarch precisely formed, by the patient good sense, the enlightened liberality, and the Immovable composure of his character, to meet the perilous perplexities of his situation, and, if he could not combat them with the vigour and genius of a hero, to sustain them at least with the dignity of a prince. Page 350

PROJECTS FOR QUITTING BRUSSELS,

Madame d'Henin and Madame de la Tour du Pin projected retreating to Gand, should the approach of the enemy be unchecked ; to avail themselves of such protection as might be obtained from seeking it under the wing of Louis XVIII. M. de la Tour du Pin had, I believe, remained there with his majesty. M. de Lally and the Boyds inclined to Antwerp, where they might safely await the fate of Brussels, near enough for returning, should it weather the storm, yet within reach of vessels to waft them to the British shores should it be lost.

Should this last be the fatal termination, I, Of course, had agreed to join the party of the voyage, and resolved to secure my passport, that, while I waited to the last moment, I might yet be prepared for a hasty retreat. I applied for a passport to Colonel Jones, to whom the Duke of Wellington had deputed the military command of Brussels in his absence but he was unwilling to sanction an evacuation of Brussels, which he deemed premature. It was not, he said, for us, the English, to spread alarm, or prepare for an overthrow: he had not sent away his own wife or children, and he had no doubt but victory would repay his confidence.

I was silenced, but not convinced ; the event was yet uncertain, and my stake was, with respect to earthly happiness, my existence. A compromise occurred to me, which suggested my dispensing with a new passport, and contenting myself with obtaining his signature to my old one, accorded by M. le Chevalier de Jaucourt. He could not refuse to sign it; and we then separated. I promised him, nevertheless, that I would remain to the last extremity; and I meant no other. I was now better satisfied, though by no means at ease.

Yet the motive of Colonel Jones was, that all should yield to the glory of the British arms and the Duke of Wellington. And I had the less right to be surprised, from the dreadful soldier's speech I had heard him utter when I first saw him, to the Princesse d'Henin: complaining of the length of time that was wasted in inaction, and of the inactivity and tameness of the Bourbons, he exclaimed, "We want blood, madam! what we want is blood!"

CALMLY AWAITING THE RESULT,

I found upon again going my rounds for information, that 'though news was arriving incessantly from the scene of action, Page 351

and with details always varying,, Bonaparte was always advancing. All the people of Brussels lived in the streets. Doors seemed of no use, for they were never shut. The individuals, when they re-entered their houses, only resided at the windows : so that the whole population of the city seemed constantly in public view. Not only business as well as society was annihilated, but even every species of occupation. All of which we seemed capable was, to inquire or to relate, to speak or to hear. Yet no clamour, no wrangling, nor even debate was intermixed with either question or answer ; curiosity, though incessant, was serene ; the faces were all monotony, though the tidings were all variety. I could attribute this only to the length of time during which the inhabitants had been habituated to change both of masters and measures, and to their finding that, upon an average, they neither lost nor gained by such successive revolutions. And to this must be joined their necessity of submitting, be it what it might, to the result. This mental consciousness probably kept their passions in order, and crushed all the impulses by which hope or fear is excited. No love of liberty buoyed up resistance; no views of independence brightened their imagination; and they bore even suspense with the calm of apparent philosophy, and an exterior of placid indifference.

The first intelligence Madame d'Henin now gave me was, that the Austrian minister extraordinary, M. le Comte de Vincent, had been wounded close by the side of the Duke of Wellington ; and that he was just brought back in a litter to her hotel. As she was much acquainted with him, she desired me to accompany her in making her personal inquiries. No one now sent servants, cards, or messages, where there was any serious interest in a research. There was too much eagerness to bear delay, and ceremony and etiquette always fly from distress and from business.

Le Comte de Vincent, we had the pleasure to hear, had been hurt only in the hand ; but this wound afterwards proved more serious than at first was apprehended, threatening for ,many weeks either gangrene or amputation. News, however, far more fatal struck our ears soon after : the gallant Duke of Brunswick was killed! and by a shot close also to the Duke of Wellington!

The report now throughout Brussels was that the two Mighty chiefs, Bonaparte and Wellington, were almost constantly in view of each other.

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FLIGHT To ANTWERP DETERMINED ON.

But what a day was the next—June 18th—the greatest, perhaps, in its result, in the annals of Great Britain!

My slumbers having been tranquillized by the close Of the 17th, I was calmly reposing, when I was awakened by the sound of feet abruptly entering my drawing-room. I started, and had but just time to see by my watch that it was only six o'clock, when a rapping at my bedroom door so quick as to announce as much trepidation as it excited, made me slip on a long kind of domino always, in those times, at hand, to keep me ready for encountering surprise, and demanded what was the matter? "Open your door! there is not a moment to lose! " was the answer, in the voice of Miss Ann Boyd. I obeyed, in great alarm, and saw that pretty and pleasing young woman, with her mother, Mrs. Boyd, who remembered having known and played with me when we were both children, and whom I had met with at Passy, after a lapse of more than forty years. They both eagerly told me that all their new hopes had been overthrown by better authenticated news, and that I must be with them by eight o'clock, to proceed to the wharf, and set sail for Antwerp, whence we sail on for England, should the taking of Brussels by Bonaparte endanger Antwerp also.

To send off a few lines to the post, with my direction at Antwerp, to pack and to pay, was all that I could attempt, or even desire ; for I had not less time than appetite for thinking of breakfast. My host and my maid carried my small package, and I arrived before eight in the Rue d'Assault. We set off for the wharf on foot, not a fiacre or chaise being procurable. Mr. and Mrs. Boyd, five or six of their family, a governess, and I believe some servants, with bearers of our baggage, made our party. Though the distance was short, the walk was long, because rugged, dirty, and melancholy. Now and then we heard a growling noise, like distant thunder, but far more dreadful. When we had got about a third part of the way, a heavy rumbling sound made us stop to listen. It was approaching nearer and nearer, and we soon found that we were followed by innumerable carriages, and a multitude of persons.

All was evidently military, but of so gloomy, taciturn, and forbidding a description, that when we were overtaken we had not courage to offer a question to any passer by. Had Page 353

we been as certain that they belonged to the enemy as we felt convinced that, thus circumstanced, they must belong to our own interests, we could not have been awed more effectually into silent passiveness, so decisively repelling to inquiry was every aspect, In truth, at that period, when every other hour changed the current of expectation, no one could be inquisitive without the risk of passing for a spy, nor communicative without the hazard of being suspected as a traitor.

Arrived at the wharf, Mr. Boyd pointed out to us our barge, which seemed fully ready for departure ; but the crowd already come and still coming so incommoded us, that Mr. Boyd desired we would enter a large inn, and wait till he could speak with the master, and arrange our luggage and places, We went, therefore, into a spacious room and ordered breakfast, when the room was entered by a body of military men of all sorts ; but we were suffered to keep our ground till Mr, Boyd came to inform us that we must all decamp!

A CHECK MET WITH.

Confounded, but without any interrogatory, we vacated the apartment, and Mr. Boyd conducted us not to the barge, not to the wharf, but to the road back to Brussels ; telling us, in an accent of depression, that he feared all was lost-that Bonaparte was advancing-that his point was decidedly Brussels-and that the Duke of Wellington had sent orders that all the magazines, the artillery, and the warlike stores of every description, and all the wounded, the maimed, and the sick, should be immediately removed to Antwerp. For this purpose he had issued directions that every barge, every boat should be seized for the use of the army, and that everything of value should be conveyed away, the hospitals emptied, and Brussels evacuated.

If this intelligence filled us with the most fearful alarm, how much more affrighting still was the sound of cannon which next assailed our ears ! The dread reverberation became louder and louder as we proceeded. Every shot tolled to our imaginations the death of myriads; and the conviction that the destruction and devastation were so near us, with the probability that if all attempt at escape should prove abortive, we might be personally involved in the carnage, gave us sensations too awful for verbal expression; we could only gaze and tremble, listen and shudder. Page 354

Yet, strange to relate! on re-entering the city, all seemed quiet and tranquil as usual! and though it was in this imminent and immediate danger of being invested, and perhaps pillaged, I saw no outward mark of distress or disturbance, or even of hurry or curiosity.

Having re-lodged us in the Rue d'Assault, Mr. Boyd tried to find some land carriage for our removal. But not only every chaise had been taken, and every diligence secured, the cabriolets, the calches, nay, the waggons and the carts; and every species of caravan, had been seized for Military service. And, after the utmost efforts he could make, in every kind of way, he told us we must wait the chances of the day, for that there was no possibility of escape from Brussels either by land or water.

Remedy there was none; nor had we any other resource; we were fain, therefore, quietly to submit. Mr. Boyd, however, assured me that, though no land carriage was likely to find horses during this furious contest, he had been promised the return of a barge for the next morning, if he and his party would be at the wharf by six o'clock. We all therefore agreed that, if we were spared any previous calamity, we would set out for the wharf at five o'clock, and I accepted their invitation to be with them in the evening, and spend the night at their house. We then separated; I was anxious to get home, to watch the post, and to write to Trves.

A CAPTURED FRENCH GENERAL.

My reappearance produced no effect upon my hosts : they saw my return with the same placid civility that they had seen my departure. But even apathy, or equanimity,—which shall I call it?—like theirs was now to be broken; I was seated at my bureau and writing, when a loud "hurrah!" reached my ears from some distance, while the daughter of my host, a girl of about eighteen, gently opening my door, said the fortune of the day had suddenly turned, and that Bonaparte was taken prisoner. At the same time the "hurrah!" came nearer. I flew to the window; my host and hostess came also, crying, "Bonaparte est pris! le voil ! le Voil !"(278)

I then saw, on a noble war-horse in full equipinent, a general in the splendid uniform of France but visibly disarmed, and,

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to all appearance, tied to his horse, or, at least, held on, so as to disable him from making any effort to gallop it off, and surrounded, preceded, and followed by a. crew of roaring wretches, who seemed eager for the moment when he should be lodged where they had orders to conduct him, that they might unhorse, strip, pillage him, and divide the spoil.

His high, feathered, glittering helmet he had pressed down as low as he could on his forehead, and I could not discern his face ; but I was instantly certain he was not Bonaparte, on finding the whole commotion produced by the rifling crew above mentioned, which, though it might be guided, probably, by some subaltern officer, who might have the captive in charge, had left the field of battle at a moment when none other could be spared, as all the attendant throng were evidently amongst the refuse of the army followers.

I was afterwards informed that this unfortunate general was the Count Lobau. He met with singular consideration during his captivity in the Low Countries, having thence taken to himself a wife. That wife I had met when last in Paris, at a ball given by Madame la Princesse de Beauvau. She was quite young and extremely pretty, and the gayest of the gay, laughing, chatting the whole evening, chiefly with the fat and merry, good-humoured Duchesse de Feltre (Madame la Marchale Clarke) - and her husband, high in office, in fame, and in favour, was then absent on some official duty.

THE DEARTH OF NEWS.

The dearth of any positive news from the field of battle, even in the heart of Brussels, at this crisis, when everything that was dear and valuable to either party was at stake, was at one instant nearly distracting in its torturing suspense to the wrung nerves, and at another insensibly blunted them into a kind of amalgamation with the Belgic philosophy. At certain houses, as well as at public offices, news, I doubt not, arrived; but no means were taken to - promulgate it - no gazettes, as in London, no bulletins, as in Paris, were cried about the streets ; we were all left at once to our conjectures and our destinies.

The delusion of victory vanished into a merely passing advantage, as I gathered from the earnest researches into which it led me; and evil only met all ensuing investigation; retreat and defeat were the words in every mouth around me! Page 356

The Prussians, it was asserted, were completely vanquished on the 15th, and the English on the 16th, while on the day just passed, the 17th, a day of continual fighting and bloodshed, drawn battles on both sides left each party Proclaiming what neither party could prove—success.

It was Sunday ; but church service was out of the question though never were prayers more frequent, more fervent, Form, indeed, they could not have, nor union, while constantly expecting the enemy with fire and sword at the gates, Who could enter a place of worship, at the risk of making it a scene of slaughter? But who, also, in circumstances so awful, could require the exhortation of a priest or the example of a congregation, to stimulate devotion? No! in those fearful exigencies, where, in the full vigour of health, strength, and life's freshest resources, we seem destined to abruptly quit this mortal coil, we need no spur—all is spontaneous; and the soul is unshackled.

RUMOURS OF THE FRENCH COMING.

Not above a quarter of an hour had I been restored to my sole occupation of solace, before I was again interrupted and startled ; but not as on the preceding occasion by riotous shouts ; the sound was a howl, violent, loud, affrighting, and issuing from many voices. I ran to the window, and saw the March aux Bois suddenly filling with a populace, pouring in from all its avenues, and hurrying on rapidly, and yet as if unconscious in what direction; while women with children in their arms, or clinging to their clothes, ran screaming out of doors - and cries, though not a word was ejaculated, filled the air, and from every house, I saw windows closing, and shutters fastening ; all this, though long in writing, was presented to my eyes in a single moment, and was followed in another by a burst into my apartment, to announce that the French were come!

I know not even who made this declaration; my head was out of the window, and the person who made it scarcely entered the room and was gone.

How terrific was this moment ! My perilous situation urged me to instant flight; and, without waiting to speak to the people of the house, I crammed my papers and money into a basket, and throwing on a shawl and bonnet, I flew down stairs and out of doors.

My intention was to go to the Boyds, to partake, as I had engaged, their fate , but the crowd were all issuing from the Page 357

way I must have turned to have gained the Rue d'Assault, and I thought, therefore, I might be safer with Madame de Maurville, who, also, not being English, might be less obnoxious to the Bonapartists. To the Rue de la Montagne I hurried, in consequence, my steps crossing and crossed by an affrighted multitude ; but I reached it in safety, and she received me with an hospitable welcome. I found her calm, and her good humour undisturbed. Inured to revolutions, under which she had smarted so as she could smart no more, from the loss of all those who had been the first objects of her solicitude, a husband and three sons! she was now hardened in her feelings upon public events, though her excellent heart was still affectionate and zealous for the private misfortunes of the individuals whom she loved.

What a dreadful day did I pass! dreadful in the midst of its glory! for it was not during those operations that sent details partially to our ears that we could judge of the positive state of affairs, or build upon any permanency of success. Yet here I soon recovered from all alarm for personal safety, and lost the horrible apprehension of being in the midst of a city that was taken, sword in hand, by an enemy-an apprehension that, while it lasted, robbed me of breath, chilled my blood, and gave me a shuddering ague that even now in fancy returns as I seek to commit it to paper.

FRENCH PRISONERS BROUGHT IN.

The alerte(279) which had produced this effect, I afterwards learnt, though not till the next day, was utterly false ; but whether it had been produced by mistake or by deceit I never knew. The French, indeed, were coming; but not triumphantly ., they were prisoners, surprised and taken suddenly, ,and brought in, being disarmed, by an escort ; and, as they were numerous, and their French uniform was discernible from afar, the almost universal belief at Brussels that Bonaparte was invincible, might perhaps, without any intended deception, have raised the report that they were advancing as conquerors.

NEWS OF WATERLOO.

I attempt no description of this day, the grandeur of which was unknown, or unbelieved, in Brussels till it had taken its Page 358

flight, and could only be named as time past. The Duke of Wellington and Prince Blcher were too mightily engaged in meriting fame to spare an instant for either claiming or proclaiming it.

I was fain, therefore, to content myself with the intelligence that reached Madame de Maurville fortuitously. The crowds in the streets, the turbulence, the inquietude, the bustle the noise, the cries, the almost yells, kept up a perpetual expectation of annoyance. The door was never opened, but I felt myself pale and chill with fear of some sanguinary attack or military surprise. It is true that as Brussels was not fortified and could, in itself, offer no resistance, it could neither b' besieged nor taken by storm ; but I felt certain that the Duke of Wellington would combat for it inch by inch, and that in a conflict between life and death, every means would be resorted to that could be suggested by desperation.

Madame de Maurville now told me that an English commissary was just arrived from the army, who had assured her that the tide of success was completely turned to the side of the Allies. She offered to conduct me to his apartment, which was in the same hotel as her own, and in which he was writing and transacting business gravely assuring me, and I really believe, herself, that he could not but be rejoiced to give me, in person, every particular I could wish to hear. I deemed it, however, but prudent not to put his politeness to a test so severe.

Urgent, nevertheless, to give me pleasure, and not easily set aside from following her own conceptions, she declared she would go down stairs, and inform Mr. Saumarez that she had a countrywoman of his in her room, whom he would be charmed to oblige. I tried vainly to stop her; good humour, vivacity, curiosity, and zeal were all against my efforts; she went, and to my great surprise returned escorted by Mr. Saumarez himself. His narration was all triumphant and his account of the Duke of Wellington might almost have seemed an exaggerated panegyric if it had painted some warrior in a chivalresque romance. . . . I could not but be proud of this account: independent from its glory; my revived imagination hung the blessed laurels of peace.

But though Hope was all alive, Ease and Serenity were not her companions: Mr. Saumarez could not disguise that there was still much to do, and consequently to apprehend; and he had never, he said, amongst the many he had viewed, seen a field

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of battle in such excessive disorder. Military carriages of all sorts, and' multitudes of groups unemployed, occupied spaces that ought to have been left for manoeuvring or observation. I attribute this to the various nations who bore arms on that great day in their own manner; though the towering generalissimo of all cleared the ground, and dispersed what was unnecessary at every moment that was not absorbed by the fight.

When the night of this memorable day arrived, I took leave of Madame de Maurville to join the Boyds, according to my engagement: for though all accounts confirmed the victory of the Duke of Wellington, we had so little idea of its result, that we still imagined the four days already spent in the work of carnage must be followed by as many more, before the dreadful conflict could terminate.

Madame de Maurville lent me her servant, with whom I now made my way tolerably well, for though the crowd remained, it was no longer turbulent. A general knowledge of general success to the Allies was everywhere spread ; curiosity therefore began to be satisfied, and inquietude to be removed. The concourse were composedly—for no composure is like that of the Flemings- -listening to details of the day in tranquil groups, and I had no interruption to my walk but from my own anxiety to catch, as I could, some part of the relations. As all these have since been published, I omit them, though the interest with which I heard them was, at the moment, intense.

Three or four shocking sights intervened during my passage, of officers of high rank, either English or Belge, and either dying or dead, extended upon biers, carried by soldiers. The view of their gay and costly attire, with the conviction of their suffering, or fatal state, joined to the profound silence of their bearers and attendants, was truly saddening ; and if my reflections were morally dejecting, what, oh what were my personal feelings and fears, in the utter uncertainty whether this victory were more than a passing triumph! In one place we were entirely stopped by a group that had gathered round a horse, of which a British soldier was examining one of the knees. The animal was a tall war-horse, and one of the noblest of his species. The soldier was enumerating to his hearers its high qualities, and exultingly acquainting them it was his own property, as he had taken it, if I understood right, from the fields He produced also a very fine ring, which was all he had taken Page 360

of spoil, Yet this man gravely added that pillage had been forbidden by the commander-in-chief!

I found the Boyds still firm for departure. The news of the victory of the day, gained by the Duke of Wellington and Prince Blcher, had raised the highest delight; but further intelligence had just reached them that the enemy, since the great battle, was working to turn the right wing of the Duke of Wellington, who was in the most imminent danger; and that the capture of Brussels was expected to take place the next morning, as everything indicated that Brussels was the point at which Bonaparte aimed, to retrieve his recent defeat. Mr. Boyd used every possible exertion to procure chaises or diligence, or any sort of land conveyance, for Antwerp, but every horse was under military requisition - even the horses of the farmers, of the nobility and gentry, and of travellers, The hope of water-carriage was all that remained. We were to set off so early, that we agreed not to retire to rest.

THE VICTORY DECLARED TO BE COMPLETE.

A gentleman, however, of their acquaintance, presently burst into the room with assurances that the enemy was flying in all directions, his better news reanimated my courage for Brussels and my trust in the Duke of Wellington; and when the Boyd family summoned me the next morning at four or five o'clock to set off with them for Antwerp, I permitted my repugnance to quitting the only spot where I could receive letters from Trves to conquer every obstacle, and begged them to excuse my changed purpose. They wondered at my temerity, and probably blamed it ; but there was no time for discussion, and we separated.

It was not till Tuesday, the 20th, I had certain and satisfactory assurances how complete was the victory. At the house of Madame de Maurville I heard confirmed and detailed the matchless triumph of the matchless Wellington, interspersed with descriptions of scenes of slaughter on the field of battle to freeze the blood, and tales of woe amongst mourning survivors in Brussels to rend the heart. While listening with speechless avidity to these relations, we were joined by M. de la Tour du Pin, who is a cousin of Madame de Maurville, and who said the Duke of Wellington had galloped to Brussels from Wavre to see the Prince of Orange and inquire in person after his wounds. Prince Page 361

Blcher was in close pursuit of Bonaparte, who was totally defeated, his baggage all taken, even his private equipage and personals, and who was a fugitive himself, and in disguise! The duke considered the battle to be so decisive, that while prince Blcher was posting after the remnant of the Bonapartian army, he determined to follow himself as convoy to Louis XVIII.; and he told M. de la Tour du Pin and the Duke de Fitzjames, whom he met at the palace of the King of Holland, to acquaint their king with this his proposal, and to beg his majesty to set forward without delay to join him for its execution. The Duke de Fitzjames was gone already to Gand with his commission.

How daring a plan was this, while the internal state of France was so little known, while les places fortes(280) were all occupied, and while the corps of Grouchy was still intact, and the hidden and possible resources of Bonaparte were unfathomed!

The event, however, demonstrated that the Duke of Wellington had judged with as much quickness of perception as intrepidity of valour.

'Twas to Tournay he had desired that the King of France would repair.

THE WOUNDED AND THE PRISONERS.

The duke now ordered that the hospitals, invalids, magazines, etc., should all be stationed at Brussels, which he regarded as saved from invasion and completely secure. It is not near the scene of battle that war, even with victory, wears an aspect of felicity-no, not even in the midst of its highest resplendence of glory. A more terrific or afflicting sojourn than that of Brussels at this period can hardly be imagined. The universal voice declared that so sanguinary a battle as that which was fought almost in its neighbourhood, and quite within its hearing, never yet had spread the plains with slaughter; and though exultation cannot ever have been prouder, nor satisfaction more complete, in the brilliancy of success, all my senses were shocked in viewing the effects of its attainment. For more than a week from this time I never approached my window but to witness sights of wretchedness. Maimed, wounded, bleeding, mutilated, tortured victims of this exterminating contest passed by every minute: the fainting, the sick, the dying and the dead, on brancards,(281) In carts, in waggons, succeeded one another without intermission. There

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seemed to be a whole and a large army of disabled or lifeless soldiers! All that was intermingled with them bore an aspect of still more poignant horror ; for the Bonapartian Prisoners who were now poured into the city by hundreds, had a mien of such ferocious desperation, where they were marched on, uninjured, from having been taken by surprise or overpowered by numbers - or faces of such anguish, where they were drawn on in open vehicles, the helpless victims of gushing wounds or horrible dislocations, that to see them without commiseration for their sufferings, or admiration for the heroic, however misled enthusiasm, to which they Were martyrs, must have demanded an apathy dead to all feeling but what is personal, or a rancour too ungenerous to yield even to the view of defeat.

Both the one set and the other of these unhappy warriors endured their calamities with haughty forbearance of complaint, The maimed and lacerated, while their ghastly visages spoke torture and death, bit their own clothes, perhaps their flesh ! to save the loud utterance of their groans; while those of their comrades who had escaped these corporeal inflictions seemed to be smitten with something between remorse and madness that they had not forced themselves on to destruction ere thus they were exhibited in dreadful parade through the streets of that city they had been sent forth to conquer. Others of these wretched prisoners had, to me, as I first saw them, the air of the lowest and most disgusting of jacobins, in dirty tattered vestments of all sorts and colours, or soiled carters' frocks; but disgust was soon turned to pity, when I afterwards learnt that these shabby accoutrements had been cast over them by their conquerors after despoiling them of their own.

Everybody was wandering from home; all Brussels seemed living in the streets. The danger to the city, which had imprisoned all its inhabitants except the rabble or the military, once completely passed, the pride of feeling and showing their freedom seemed to stimulate their curiosity in seeking details on what had passed and was passing. But neither the pride nor the joy of victory was anywhere of an exulting nature. London and Paris render all other places that I, at least, have dwelt in, tame and insipid. Bulletins in a few shop-windows alone announced to the general public that the Allies had vanquished and that Bonaparte was a fugitive.

I met at the embassy an old English officer who gave me Page 363

most interesting and curious information, assuring me that in the carriage of Bonaparte, which had been seized, there were proclamations ready printed, and even dated from the palace of Lachen, announcing the downfall of the Allies and the triumph of Bonaparte ! But no satisfaction could make me hear without deadly dismay and shuddering his description of the field of battle. Piles of dead!—Heaps, masses, hills of dead bestrewed the plains!

I met also Colonel Jones; so exulting in success! so eager to remind me of his assurances that all was safe! And I was much interested in a narration made to me by a wounded soldier, who was seated in the courtyard of the embassy. He had been taken prisoner after he was severely wounded, on the morning of the 18th, and forced into a wood with many others, where he had been very roughly used, and stripped of his coat, waistcoat, and even his shoes ; but as the fortune of the day began to turn, there was no one left to watch him, and he crawled on all-fours till he got out of the wood, and was found by some of his roving comrades.

Thousands, I believe I may say without exaggeration, were employed voluntarily at this time in Brussels in dressing wounds and attending the sick beds of the wounded. Humanity could be carried no further ; for not alone the Belgians and English were thus nursed and assisted, nor yet the Allies, but the prisoners also ; and this, notwithstanding the greatest apprehensions being prevalent that the sufferers, from their multitude, would bring pestilence into the heart of the city.

The immense quantity of English, Belgians, and Allies, who were first, of course, conveyed to the hospitals and prepared houses of Brussels, required so much time for carriage and placing, that although the carts, waggons, and every attainable or seizable vehicle were unremittingly in motion-now coming, now returning to the field of battle for more,- it was nearly a week, or at least five or six days, ere the unhappy wounded prisoners, who were necessarily last served, could be accommodated. And though I was assured that medical and surgical aid was administered to them wherever it was possible, the blood that dried upon their skins and their garments, joined to the dreadful sores occasioned by this neglect, produced an effect so pestiferous, that, at every new entry, eau de Cologne, or vinegar, was resorted to by every inhabitant, even amongst the shopkeepers, even amongst the commonest persons, for averting the menaced contagion. Page 364

Even the churches were turned into hospitals, and every house in Brussels was ordered to receive or find an asylum for some of the sick.

The Boyds were eminently good in nursing, dressing wounds, making slops, and administering comfort amongst the maimed, whether friend or foe. Madame d'Henin sent her servants, and money, and cordials to all the French that came within her reach ; Madame de la Tour du Pin was munificent in the same attentions; and Madame de Maurville never passed by an opportunity of doing good. M. de Beaufort, being far the richest of my friends at this place, was not spared; he had officers and others quartered upon him without mercy.

We were all at work more or less in making lint. For me, I was about amongst the wounded half the day, the British, s'entend! The rising in France for the honour of the nation now, and for its safety in independence hereafter, was brilliant and delightful, spreading in some directions from La Manche to La Mditerrane: the focus of loyalty was Bordeaux. The king left Gand the 22nd. All Alost, etc., surrounded followed, or preceded him. The noble Blcher entered France at Mortes le Chteau.

HOSTILITIES AT AN END: TE DEUM FOR THE VICTORY,

It was not till June 26th that the blessed news reached me of the cessation of hostilities. Colonel Beaufort was the first who brought me this intelligence, smiling kindly himself at the smiles he excited. Next came la Princesse d'Henin, escorted by my and her highly valued M, de Lally Tolendal. With open arms that dear princess reciprocated congratulations. Madame de Maurville next followed, always cordial where she could either give or behold happiness. The Boyds hurried to me in a body to wish and be wished joy. And last, but only in time, not in kindness, came Madame la Vicomtesse de Laval, mother to the justly honoured philanthropist, or, as others—but not I—call him, bigot, M. Mathieu de Montmorency, who, at this moment, is M. le Duc de Montmorency.

Brussels now, which had seemed for so many days, from the unremitting passage of maimed, dying, or dead, a mere out-door hospital, revived, or, rather, was invigorated to something above its native state ; for from uninteresting tameness it became elevated to spirit, consequence, and vivacity. Page 365

On the following Sunday I had the gratification of hearing, at the Protestant chapel, the Te Deum for the grand victory, in presence of the King and Queen of the Low Countries—or Holland, and of the Dowager Princess of Orange, and the young warrior her grandson. This prince looked so ill, so meagre, so weak, from his half-cured wounds, that to appear on this occasion seemed another, and perhaps not less dangerous effort of heroism, added to those which had so recently distinguished him in the field. What enthusiasm would such an exertion, with his pallid appearance, have excited in London or Paris ! even here, a little gentle huzza greeted him from his carriage to the chapel - and for the same short passage, back again. After which, he drove off as tranquilly as any common gentleman might have driven away, to return to his home and his family dinner.

About the middle of July-but I am not clear of the date -the news was assured and confirmed of the brilliant reenthronement of Louis XVIII., and that Bonaparte had ,surrendered to the English. Brussels now became an assemblage of all nations, from the rapturous enthusiasm that pervaded all to view the field of battle, the famous Waterloo, and gather upon the spot ,,details of the immortal victory of Wellington.

MATERNAL ADVICE.

(Madame d'Arblay to her son.) April 26, 1815. At length, my long expecting eyes meet again your hand-writing, after a breach of correspondence that I can never 'recollect without pain. Revive it not in my mind by any repetition, and I will dismiss it from all future power of tormenting me, by considering it only as a dream of other times. Cry "Done!" my Alex, and I will skip over the subject, not perhaps as lightly, but as swiftly as you skip over the hills of Norbury Park. I delight to think of the good and pleasure that sojourn may do you; though easily, too easily, I conceive the melancholy reflections that were awakened by the sight of our dear, dear cottage; yet your expressions upon its view lose much of their effect by being Overstrained, recherchs, and designing to be pathetic. We never touch others, my dear Alex, where we study to show we -,are touched ourselves. I beg you, when you write to me, Page 366

to let your pen paint your thoughts as they rise, not as you seek or labour to embellish them. I remember you once wrote me a letter so very fine from Cambridge, that, if it had not made me laugh, it would certainly have made me sick. Be natural, my dear boy, and you will be sure to please Your mother without wasting your time.

Let us know what you have received, what you have spent, what you may have still unpaid, and what you yet want. But for this last article, we both desire you will not wait our permission to draw upon your aunt, whom we shall empower to draw upon Mr. Hoare in our names. We know you to have no wanton extravagances, and no idle vanity, we give you, therefore, dear Alex, carte blanche to apply to your aunt, only consulting with her, and begging her kind, maternal advice to help your inexperience in regulating your expenses. She knows the difference that must be made between our fortune and that of Clement - but she knows our affection for our boy, and our confidence in his honour and probity, and will treat him with as much kindness, though not with equal luxury.

Your father charges you never to be without your purse, and never to let it be empty. Your aunt will counsel you about your clothes. About your books we trust to yourself. And pray don't forget, when you make sleeping visits, to recompense the trouble you must unavoidably give to servants. And if you join any party to any public place, make a point to pay for yourself. It will be far better to go seldom, and with that gentlemanly spirit, than often, with the air of a hanger-on. How infinitely hospitable has been your uncle James! But hospitality is his characteristic. We had only insisted upon your regularity at chapel and at lectures, and we hear of your attention to them comparatively, and we are fixed to be contented en attendant. Don't lose courage, dear, dear Alex , the second place is the nearest to the first. I love you with all my heart and soul! . . .

ABOUT THE GREAT BATTLE.

(Madame d'Arblay to General d'Arblay.) Monday, June 19, 1815- The sitting up all night, however little merrily, made me, I know not how, seem to have lived a day longer than real time, for I thought to-day the 20th when I finished my letter of this morning. I have now, therefore, to rectify that Mistake,

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and tell you that there is, therefore, no chasm in the known history of the Duke of Wellington. But, to my infinite regret, with all the great, nay marvellous feats he has performed, he is less, not more, in public favour, from not being approved, or rather, I think, comprehended, in the opening of this tremendous business. As I am sure the subject must be of deeper interest to you than any other, at such an instant, I will tell you all I know-all I have heard and gathered, for I know nothing, and add my own consequent conjectures, as soon as I have first acquainted you that I separated from the Boyds at about half past seven in the morning, too much satisfied with the news of Lord Wellington's victory to endure to distance myself still further from all I love most upon earth. They, therefore, still alarmed, went to Antwerp, and I am again at the little bureau, upon which my dearest ami has sometimes written in the March aux Bois.

The first news the Duke of Wellington was known to receive of the invasion of les Pays Bas was at a ball at the Duchess of Richmond's. He would not break up the party, more than half of which was formed of his officers, nor suffer any interruption. Some time after, however, he went out, and when he returned distributed cards of orders to the several commanding officers. But he stayed to supper - after which fifty red-coats retired abruptly. Not so the duke—and he is now much—

Ah, mon ami, two letters arrive at the same instant, that curtail all subjects but what belong to themselves. Nous allons commencer!—Heaven preserve and prosper the beloved partner of my soul. I dare enter upon nothing; I can only say the first of the two letters, written before the order of commencer was issued, is one of the fullest and dearest I have in my possession; and I shall read and re-read its interesting contents with heart-felt pleasure.

Tell, tell me, my beloved ami, where, when you would have me remove? I will not ask how—I will find that out. To be nearer to you—to hear more frequently—oh, what a solace!

The maimed, wounded, bleeding, fainting, arrive still every minute. There seems a whole, and a large army of mutilated Soldiers. Jerome is said to be killed, and Vandamme to have lost both legs.(282) Our loss is yet incalculable. Page 368

Every creature that was movable is gone to Antwerp, or England, but myself - but my intense desire not to lose ground or time in my letters made me linger to the last, and now, thank heaven, all danger here is at an end, and all fugitives are returning.

The imperial guard is almost annihilated. They fought like demons. Napoleon cried out continually to them, the prisoners say, "A Bruxelles, mes enfans! Bruxelles! Bruxelles!" They were reported one day to be actually arrived here. I never saw, never, indeed, felt such consternation. Not only money, jewels, and valuables of pecuniary sorts were shut up, but babies from the arms of their terrified mothers and nurses. I flew out myself, to take refuge in the apartments of Madame de Maurville, and I never witnessed such horror and desolation.

I have left this for a word at the last minute, This is Wednesday, June 21st…. Mr Kirkpatrick tells me Murat is dead of his wounds;(283) Vandamme lost his two thighs, and is dead also; Jerome died of a cannon-ball at once. Poor M, de Vincent, the Austrian, has a ball still in his arm, which they cannot extract, Lord Fitzroy Somerset has an arm shot off; Lord Uxbridge a leg. Col. Hamilton is killed. Lobau is here a prisoner. I shall continue to write all the

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particulars I can gather. It has been the most bloody battle that ever was fought, and the victory the most entire.

AN ACCIDENT BEFALLS GENERAL D'ARBLAY.

on the 19th of July, 1815, during the ever memorable Hundred Days, I was writing to my best friend, when I received a visit from la Princesse d'Henin and Colonel de Beaufort, who entered the room with a sort of precipitancy and confusion that immediately struck me as the effect of evil tidings which they came to communicate. My ideas instantly flew to the expectation of new public disaster, when Madame d'Henin faintly pronounced the name of M. d'Arblay. Alarmed, I turned from one to the other in speechless trepidation, dreading to ask, while dying to know what awaited me. Madame d'Henin then said, that M. de Beaufort had received a letter from M. d'Arblay: and I listened with subdued, yet increasing terror, while they acquainted me that M. d'Arblay had received on the calf of his leg a furious kick from a wild horse, which had occasioned so bad a wound as to confine him to his bed - and that he wished M. de Beaufort to procure me some travelling guide, that I might join 'him as soon as it would be possible with safety and convenience.

But what was my agony when I saw that the letter was not in his own band! I conjured them to leave me, and let me read it alone. They offered, the one to find me a clever femme de chambre, the other to inquire for a guide to aid me to set out, if able, the next day; but I rather know this from recollection than from having understood them at the time: I only entreated their absence; and having consented to their return in a few hours, I forced them away.

No sooner were they gone, than, calming my spirits by earnest and devout prayer, which alone supports my mind, and even preserves my senses, in deep calamity, I ran over the letter, which was dated the fourth day after the wound, and acknowledged that three incisions had been made in the leg unnecessarily by an ignorant surgeon, which had so aggravated the danger, as well as the suffering, that he was now in bed, not only from the pain of the lacerated limb, but also from a nervous fever! and that no hope was held Out to him of quitting it in less than a fortnight or three weeks.

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MADAME D'ARBLAY'S DIFFICULTIES IN REJOINING HER HUSBAND.

I determined not to wait, though the poor sufferer himself had charged that I should, either for the femme de chambe of Madame d'Henin or the guide of M. de Beaufort, which they could not quite promise even for the next day; and to me the next hour seemed the delay of an age. I went, therefore to order a chaise at six on the road to Luxembourg. The' answer was, that no horses were to be had!

Almost distracted, I flew myself to the inn; but the answer was repeated! The route to Luxembourg, they told me, was infested with straggling parties, first, from the wandering army of Grouchy, now rendered pillagers from want of food ; and next, from the pursuing army of the Prussians, who made themselves pillagers also through the rights of conquest. To travel in a chaise would be impracticable, they assured me, without a guard.

I now resolved upon travelling in the diligence, and desired to secure a place in that for Trves. There was none to that city !

"And what is the nearest town to Trves, whence I might go on in a chaise?"

"Luxembourg."

I bespoke a place, but was told that the diligence had set off the very day before, and that none other would go for six days, as it only quitted Brussels once a week.

My friend the Baroness de Spagen next told me that, if travel I would, I had but to go by Lige, which, though not a direct, was the only safe road; that then she would put me under the protection of her brother-in-law, the Comte de Spagen, who was himself proceeding to that city by the ensuing night- coach.

I accepted this kindness with rapture. I flew myself to the book-keeper I had so abruptly quitted, and instantly secured a place in the Lige diligence for night; and I was taking leave of my hosts, a Brussels fiacre being at the door, laden with my little luggage, when I was told that Le Roi, the confidential servant of Madame d'Henin, besought to speak a word to me from his mistress. He told me that the Princesse 'was quite miserable at my hazardous plan, which she had gathered from Madame de la Tour du Pin, and that she Page 371

supplicated me to postpone my purpose only till the next day, when I should have some one of trust to accompany me.

I assured him that nothing now could make me risk procrastination, but begged him to still the fears of the excellent Princesse by acquainting her I should be under the protection of the Comte de Spagen.

arrived at the inn after this last unprepared-for impediment, three or four minutes too late ! What was the fermentation of my mind at this news! A whole week I must wait for the next diligence, and even then lose the aid and countenance of le Comte de Spagen.

Le Roi, who, through some short cut of footpaths and alleys, had got to the inn before me, earnestly pressed me, in the style of the confidential old servants of the French nobility, to go and compose myself chez la princesse. Even my host and hostess had pursued to wish me again good-bye, and now expressed their warm hopes I should return to them. But the book-keeper alone spoke a language to snatch me from despair, by saying my fiacre might perhaps catch the diligence two miles off, in the Alle Verte, where it commonly stopped for fresh passengers or parcels.

Eagerly I promised the coachman a reward if he could succeed, and off he drove. The diligence was at the appointed place, and that instant ready to proceed ! I rushed into it with trepidation of hurry, and when more composed, I was eager to find out which of my fellow- travellers might be the Comte de Spagen; but I dared risk no question. I sat wholly silent. We arrived at Lige about nine in the morning I now advanced to the book-keeper, and made inquiries about the Comte de Spagen.

He had arrived in the earlier coach, and was gone on in some other to his estates.

As calmly as was in my power, I then declared my purpose to go to Trves, and begged to be put on my way.

I was come wrong, the book-keeper answered; the road was by Luxembourg.

And how was I to get thither?

By Brussels, he said, and a week hence, the diligence having set off the day before.

Alas, I well knew that! and entreated some other means to forward me to Trves,

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He replied that he knew of none from Li ge; but that if I would go to Aix, I might there, perhaps, though it was out of the road, hear of some conveyance; but he asserted it was utterly impossible I could leave Li ge without a passport from the Prussian police-office, where I should only and surely be detained if I had not one to show from whence I came. This happily, reminded me of the one I had from M. de jaucourt' in Paris, and which was fortunately, though accidentally, in my hand-basket.

Arrived at Aix, I earnestly inquired for a conveyance to Trves; none existed! nor could I hear of any at all, save a diligence to juliers, which was to set out at four o'clock the next morning. To lose thus a whole day, and even then to go only more north instead of south, almost cast me into despair. But redress there was none, and I was forced to secure myself a place to juliers, whence, I was told, I might get on.

At any more tranquil period I should have seized this interval for visiting the famous old cathedral and the tomb of Charlemagne; but now I thought not of them; I did not even recollect that Aix-la-Chapelle had been the capital of that emperor. I merely saw the town through a misty, mizzling rain, and that the road all around it was sandy and heavy, or that all was discoloured by my own disturbed view.

I laid down, in a scarcely furnished apartment, without undressing. I suffered no shutter or curtain to be closed, lest i should lose my vehicle ; and such was my anxiety, that at three o'clock, by my own watch, I descended to inquire if we were not to set off. I wandered about by the twilight of a season that is never quite dark, but met no one. I returned to my chamber, but, always in terror of being forgotten, descended again in a quarter of an hour, though still without success. An hour, says Dr. Johnson, may be tedious, but it cannot be long : four o'clock at last struck, and I ran into a vehicle then ready in the courtyard of the auberge.(284)

I found myself alone, which, at first, was a great relief to my mind, that was overburthened with care and apprehension, and glad of utter silence. Ere long, however, I found it fed my melancholy, which it was my business rather to combat and I was not, therefore, sorry when a poor woman with a child was admitted from the outside through the charity of the coachman, as the rain grew heavier. Page 373

At juliers we stopped at a rather large inn, at the head of an immensely long market-place. It was nearly empty, except where occupied by straggling soldiers, poor, lame, or infirm labourers, women, and children. The universal war of the Continent left scarcely a man unmaimed to be seen in civil life. The women who met my eyes were all fat, with very round and very brown faces. Most of them were barefooted, nay, barelegged, and had on odd small caps, very close round their visages. The better sort, I fancy, at that critical time, had hidden themselves or fled the town.

We entered Cologne through an avenue, said to be seven miles in length, of lime-trees. It was evening, but very light, and Cologne had a striking appearance, from its magnitude and from its profusion of steeples. The better sort of houses were white and looked neat, though in an old-fashioned style, and elaborately ornamented. But, between the ravages of time and of war, the greater part of them seemed crumbling away, if not tumbling down.

A FRIENDLY RECEPTION AT COLOGNE.

But while I expected to be driven on to some auberge, a police officer, in a Prussian uniform, came to the coach-door, and demanded our passports. My companion made herself known as a native, and was let out directly. The officer, having cast his eye over my passport, put his head through the window of the carriage, and, in a low whisper, asked me whether I were French?

French by marriage, though English by birth, I hardly knew which to call myself; I said, however, "Oui." He then, in a voice yet more subdued, gave me to understand that he could serve me. I caught at his offer, and told him I earnestly desired to go straight to Trves, to a wounded friend. He would do for me what he could, he answered, for he was French himself, though employed by the Prussians. He would carry my passport for me to the magistrate of the place and get it signed without my having any further trouble though only, he feared, to Bonn, or, at farthest, to Coblenz, whence I might probably proceed unmolested. He knew also, and could recommend me to a most respectable lady and gentleman, both French, and under the Prussian hard gripe, where I might spend the evening en famille, and be spared entering any auberge. Page 374 He conducted me, in silence, passing through the cloisters to a house not far distant, and very retired in its appearance'. Arrived at a door at which he knocked or rang, he still spoke not a word, but when an old man came to open it, in a shabby dress, but with a good and lively face, be gave him some directions in German and in a whisper, and then entrusted with my passport, he bowed to me and hurried away.

The old man led me to a very large room, scarcely at all furnished. He pulled out of a niche a sort of ebony armchair, very tottering and worn, and said he would call madame, for whom he also placed a fauteuil, at the head of an immense and clumsy table. I was then joined by an elderly gentlewoman, who was led in ceremoniously by a gentleman still more elderly. The latter made me three profound obeisances, which I returned with due imitation, while the lady approached me with good breeding, and begged me to take my seat.

The old man then, who I found was their domestic, served the tea. I know not whether this was their general custom, or a compliment to a stranger. But when we had all taken some, they opened into a little conversation. It was I, indeed, who began by apologising for my intrusion, and expressing at the same time my great relief in being spared going to an auberge, alone as I was; but I assured them that the gentleman who had brought me to their dwelling had acted entirely by his own uninfluenced authority.

They smiled or rather tried to smile, for melancholy was seated on their countenances in its most fixed colours and they told me that person was their best friend, and lost no opportunity to offer them succour or comfort. He had let them know my situation, and had desired they would welcome and cheer me. Welcome me, the lady added in French, they did gladly, since I was in distress; but they had little power to cheer me, involved as they were themselves in the depths of sorrow.

Sympathy of compassion soon led to sympathy of confidence; and when they heard to whom I belonged, and the nature of my terrible haste, they related their own sad history. Death, misfortune, and oppression had all laid on them their iron hands ; they had lost their sons while forcibly fighting for a usurpation which they abhorred; they had lost their property by emigration; and they had been treated with Page 375

equal harshness by the revolutionists because they were suspected of loyalty, and by the royalists because their children had served in the armies of the revolutionists. They were now living nearly in penury, and owed their safety and peace solely to the protection of the officer who had brought me to them.

With communications such as these, time passed so little heavily, however sadly, that we were ill-disposed to separate; and eleven o'clock struck, as we sat over their economical but well served and well cooked little supper, ere the idea of retiring was mentioned. They then begged me to go to rest, as I must be at the diligence for Coblenz by four o'clock the next morning.

To another large room, nearly empty except the old, high, and narrow bed, the domestic now conducted me, promising to call me at half-past three o'clock in the morning, and to attend me to the diligence. I did not dare undress; I tied my watch, which was a small repeater, round my wrist, and laid down in my clothes-but to strike my watch, and to pray for my beloved invalid, and my safe restoration to him, filled up, without, I believe, three minutes of repose, the interval to my conductor's return.

At half-past three we set out, after I had safely deposited all I durst spare, where my disinterested, but most poor host would inevitably find my little offering, which, if presented to him, he would probably have refused. I never heard his name, which he seemed studious to hold back; but I have reason to think he was of the ancient provincial noblesse. His manners, and those of his wife, had an antique etiquette in them that can only accord with that idea.

The walk was immensely long; it was through the scraggy and hilly streets I have mentioned, and I really thought it endless. The good domestic carried my luggage. The height of the houses made the light merely not darkness ; we met not a creature; and the painful pavement and barred windows, and fear of being too late, made the walk still more dreary.

I was but just in time; the diligence was already drawn out of the inn-yard, and some friends of the passengers were taking leave. I eagerly secured my place - and never so much regretted the paucity of my purse as in my inability to recompense as I wished the excellent domestic whom I now quitted. Page 376

FROM COLOGNE TO COBLENZ AND TREVES.

I found myself now in much better society than I had yet been, consisting of two gentlemen, evidently of good education, and a lady. They were all, German, and spoke only that language one to another, though they addressed me in French as often as my absorption in my own ruminations gave any opening for their civility.

And this was soon the case, by my hearing them speak of the Rhine ; my thoughts were so little geographical that it had not occurred to me that Cologne was upon that river - I had not, therefore, looked for or perceived it the preceding evening: but upon my now starting at the sound of its name and expressing my Strong -curiosity to behold it, they all began to watch for the first point upon which it became clearly visible, and all five with one voice called out presently after, "Ah, le voil !"(285) But imagination had raised expectations that the Rhine, at this part of its stream, would by no means answer. It seemed neither so wide, so deep, so rapid, nor so grand as my mind had depicted it nor yet were its waters so white or bright as to suit my ideas of its fame. At last my heart became better tuned. I was now on my right road; no longer travelling zig-zag, and as I could procure any means to get on, but in the straight road, by Coblenz, to the city which contained the object of all my solicitude.

And then it was that my eyes opened to the beauties of nature; then it was that the far-famed Rhine found justice in those poor little eyes, which hitherto, from mental preoccupation, or from expectations too high raised, had refused a cordial tribute to its eminent beauty, unless indeed its banks, till after Bonn, are of inferior loveliness. Certain it is, that from this time till my arrival at Coblenz, I thought myself in regions of enchantment.

>From Coblenz to Trves I was two days travelling, though it might with ease have been accomplished in less than half that time. We no longer journeyed in any diligence that may be compared with one of France or of England, but in a queer German carriage, resembling something mixed of a coach, a chaise, and a cart.

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MEETING WITH GENERAL D'ARBLAY.

At Trves, at length, on Monday evening, the 24th of July, 1815, I arrived in a tremor of joy and terror indescribable. But my first care was to avoid hazarding any mischief from surprise; and my first measure was to obtain some intelligence previously to risking an interview. It was now six days since any tidings had reached me. My own last act in leaving Brussels had been to write a few lines to M. de Premorel, my General's aide-de-camp, to announce my journey, and prepare him for my arrival.

I now wrote a few lines to the valet of Monsieur d'Arblay, and desired he would come instantly to the inn for the baggage of Madame d'Arblay, who was then on the road. Hardly five minutes elapsed ere Franois, running like a race-horse, though in himself a staid and composed German, appeared before me. How I shook at his sight with terrific suspense ! The good-natured creature relieved me instantly though with a relief that struck at my heart with a pang of agony—for he said that the danger was over, and that both the surgeons said so.

He was safe, I thanked God ! but danger, positive danger had existed! Faint I felt, though in a tumult of grateful sensations: I took his arm, for my tottering feet would hardly support me; and M. de Premorel, hastening to meet me at the street-door, told me that the general was certain I was already at Trves; I therefore permitted myself to enter his apartment at once.

Dreadfully suffering, but still mentally occupied by the duties of his profession, I found him. Three wounds had been inflicted on his leg by the kick of a wild horse, which he had bought at Trves, with intent to train to military service. He was felled by them to the ground. Yet, had he been skilfully attended, he might have been completely cured! But all the best surgeons, throughout every district, had been seized upon for the armies : and the ignorant hands into which he fell aggravated the evil, by incisions hazardous, unnecessary, and torturing.

WAITING FOR LEAVE TO RETURN To FRANCE.

The adjoint of M. d'Arblay, M. le Comte de Mazancourt, had been sent to Paris by M. d'Arblay, to demand leave and Page 378

passports for returning to France, the battle and peace of Waterloo having ended the purpose for which he had been appointed by Louis XVIII., through the orders of the Marchal Duc de Feltre, minister at war, to raise recruits from the faithful who wished to quit the usurper.

My poor sufferer had been quartered upon M. Nell, a gentleman of Trves; but there was no room for me at M. Nell's, and I was obliged-most reluctantly-to be conducted to an hotel at some distance. But the next day M. d'Arblay entered into an agreement with Madame de la Grange, a lady of condition who resided at Trves, to admit me to eat and lodge at her house, upon the picnic plan, of paying the overplus of that expense I should cause her, with a proper consideration, not mentioned, but added by my dear general, for my apartment and incidental matters. This sort of plan, since their ruin by the Revolution, had become so common as to be called fashionable amongst the aristocratic noblesse, who were too much impoverished to receive their friends under their roofs but by community of fortune during their junction. Every morning after breakfast one of the family conducted me back to M. Nell's, where I remained till the hour of dinner, when M. Godefroy de Premorel commonly gave me le bras for returning, and Franois watched for me at the end of the repast. This was to me a cruel arrangement, forcing my so frequent absences; but I had no choice.

It was not till after reiterated applications by letter, and by MM. de Mazancourt and Premorel in person, that my poor general could obtain his letters of recall; though the re-establishment of Louis XVIII. on his throne made the mission on the frontiers null, and though the hapless and helpless state of health of M. d'Arblay would have rendered him incapable of continuing to fulfil its duties if any yet were left to perform. The mighty change of affairs so completely occupied men's minds, as well as their hands, that they could work only for themselves and the present : the absent were utterly forgotten. The Duc de Luxembourg, however, at length interfered, and procured passports, with the ceremonies of recall.

DEPARTURE FOR PARIS.

On the morning of our departure from Trves, all the families of Nell and La Grange filled the courtyard, and surrounded the little carriage in which we set out, with others,

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unknown to me, but acquainted with the general, and lamenting to lose sight of him-as who that ever knew him failed doing? M. de Mazancourt and the De Premorels had preceded us. The difficulty of placing the poor wounded leg was great and grievous, and our journey was anything but gay; the cure, alas, was so much worse than incomplete! The spirits of the poor worn invalid were sunk, and, like his bodily strength, exhausted; it was so new to him to be helpless, and so melancholy ! After being always the most active, the most enterprising, the most ingenious in difficulty and mischance, and the most vivacious in conquering evils, and combating accidents;-to find himself thus suddenly bereft not only of his powers to serve and oblige all around him, but even of all means of aiding and sufficing to himself, was profoundly dejecting ; nor, to his patriot-heart, was this all: far otherwise. We re-entered France by the permission of foreigners, and could only re-enter at all by passports of all the Allies! It seemed as if all Europe had freer egress to that country than its natives!

Yet no one more rejoiced in the victory of Waterloo—no one was more elated by the prospect of its glorious results: for the restoration of the monarchy he was most willing to shed the last drop of his blood. But not such was the manner in which he had hoped to see it take place ; he had hoped it would have been more spontaneous, and the work of the French themselves to overthrow the usurpation. He felt, therefore, severely shocked, when, at the gates of Thionville, upon demanding admittance by giving his name, his military rank, and his personal passport, he was disregarded and unheard by a Prussian sub-officer—a Prussian to repulse a French general, in the immediate service of his king, from entering France! His choler rose, in defiance of sickness and infirmity; but neither indignation nor representation were of any avail, till he condescended to search his portefeuille for a passport of All the Allies, which the Duc de Luxembourg had wisely forwarded to Trves, joined to that of the minister at war. Yet the Prussian was not to blame,. save for his uncourteous manners : the King of France was only such, at that moment, through Blcher and Wellington.

Three or four days, I think, we passed at Metz, where the general put himself Into the hands of a surgeon of eminence, who did what was now to be done to rectify the gross mismanagement at Trves.

In this time I saw all that was most Page 380

worth remark in the old and famous city of Metz. But it looked drear and abandoned- as everywhere during my journey. Nothing was yet restored, for confidence was wanting in the state of things. Wellington and Blcher, the lords of the ascendant, seemed alone gifted with the Power of foreseeing, as they had been instrumentally of regulating, events.

A CHANCE VIEW OF THE EMPEROR OF RUSSIA.

Not long after, I forget exactly where, we came under new yet still foreign masters—the Russians ; who kept Posts, like sentinels, along the high road, at stated distances. They were gentle and well-behaved, in a manner and to a degree that was really almost edifying. On the plains of Chalons there was a grand Russian encampment. We stopped half a day for rest at some small place in its neighbourhood and I walked about, guarded by the good Franois, to view it. But, on surveying a large old house, which attracted my notice by a group of Russian officers that I observed near its entrance, how was I struck on being told by Franois, that the Emperor of all the Russias was at that moment its inhabitant! At the entrance of the little gate that opened the palisade stood a lady with two or three gentlemen. There was no crowd, and no party of guards, nor any sign of caution or parade of grandeur, around this royally honoured dwelling. And, in a few minutes, the door was quietly opened and the emperor came out, in an undress uniform, wearing no stars nor orders, and with an air of gay good humour, and unassuming ease. There was something in his whole appearance of hilarity, freedom, youthfulness, and total absence of all thought of state and power, that would have led me much sooner to suppose him a jocund young Lubin, or country esquire, than an emperor, warrior, or a statesman.

The lady curtsied low, and her gentlemen bowed profoundly as he reached the group. He instantly recognised them, and seemed enchanted at their sight. A sprightly conversation ensued, in which he addressed himself chiefly to the lady, who seemed accustomed to his notice, yet to receive it with a species of rapture. The gentlemen also had the easy address of conscious welcome to inspirit them, and I never followed up a conversation I could not hear, with more certainty of its being agreeable to all parties. They all spoke French, and I was restrained only by my own sense of propriety from advancing

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within hearing 'of every word; for no sentinel, nor guard of any kind, interfered to keep the few lookers on at a distance;

This discourse over, be gallantly touched his bat and leaped into his open carriage, attended by a Russian officer, and was out of sight in a moment. How far more happy, disengaged, and to his advantage, was this view of his imperial majesty, than that which I had had the year before in England, where the crowds that surrounded, and the pressure of unrestrained curiosity and forwardness, certainly embarrassed, if they did not actually displease him!

ENGLISH TROOPS IN OCCUPATION.

At Meaux I left again my captive companion for a quarter of an hour to visit the cathedral of the sublimely eloquent Bossuet. In happier moments I should not have rested Without discovering and tracing the house, the chamber, the library, the study, the garden which had been as it were sanctified by his virtues, his piety, his learning, and his genius and oh, how eagerly, if not a captive, would my noble-minded companion have been my conductor!

A new change again of military control soon followed, at which I grieved for my beloved companion. I almost felt ashamed to look at him, though my heart involuntarily, irresistibly palpitated with emotions which had little, indeed, in unison with either grief or shame; for the sentinels, the guards, the camps, became English.

All converse between us now stopped involuntarily, and as if by tacit agreement. M. d'Arblay was too sincere a loyalist to be sorry, yet too high-spirited a freeman to be satisfied. I could devise nothing; to say that might not cause some painful discussion or afflicting retrospection, and we travelled many miles in pensive silence-each nevertheless intensely observant of the astonishing new scene presented to our view, on re-entering the capital of France, to see the vision of Henry V. revived, and Paris in the hands of the English!

I must not omit to mention that notwithstanding this complete victory over Bonaparte, the whole of the peasantry and common people, converse with them when or where or how I might during our route, with one accord avowed themselves utterly incredulous of his defeat. They all believed he Page 382

had only given way in order that he might come forward with new forces to extirpate all opposers, and exalt himself on their ashes to permanent dominion.

LEAVETAKING: M. DE TALLEYRAND.

On the eve of setting out for England, I went round to all I could reach of my intimate acquaintance, to make—as it has proved—a last farewell! M. de Talleyrand came in to Madame de Laval's drawing-room during my visit of leavetaking. He was named upon entering; but there is no chance he could recollect me, as I had not seen him since the first month or two after my marriage, when he accompanied M. de Narbonne and M. de Beaumetz to our cottage at Bookham. I could not forbear whispering to Madame de Laval, how many souvenirs his sight awakened! M. de Narbonne was gone, who made so much of our social felicity during the period of our former acquaintance; and Mr. Locke was gone, who made its highest intellectual delight; and Madame de Stael,(286) who gave it a zest of wit, deep thinking, and light speaking, of almost unexampled entertainment; and my beloved sister Phillips, whose sweetness, intelligence, grace, and sensibility won every heart: these were gone, who all, during the sprightly period in which I was known to M. Talleyrand, had almost always made our society. Ah! what parties were those! how select, how refined though sportive, how investigatingly sagacious though invariably well-bred!

Madame de Laval sighed deeply, without answering me, but I left M. de Talleyrand to Madame la Duchesse de Luynes, and a sister of A le Duc de Luxembourg, and another lady or two, while I engaged my truly amiable hostess, till I rose to depart: and then, in passing the chair of M. de Talleyrand, who gravely and silently, but politely, rose and bowed, I said, "M. de Talleyrand m'a oubli: mais on n'oublie pas M. de Talleyrand."(287) I left the room with quickness, but saw a movement of surprise by no means unpleasant break over the habitual placidity, the nearly imperturbable composure of his made-up countenance.

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our journey was eventless, yet sad; sad, not solely, though chiefly, from the continued sufferings of my wounded companion, but sad also, that I quitted so many dear friends, who had wrought themselves, by innumerable kindnesses, into my affections, and who knew not, for we could not bring ourselves to utter words that must have reciprocated so much pain, that our intended future residence was England. The most tender and generous of fathers had taken this difficult resolution for the sake of his son, whose earnest wish had been repeatedly expressed for permission to establish himself in the land of his birth. That my wishes led to the same point, there could be no doubt, and powerfully did they weigh with the most disinterested and most indulgent of husbands. All that could be suggested to compromise what was jarring in our feelings, so as to save all parties from murmuring or regret, was the plan of a yearly journey to France.

(273) Minister of war.

(274) About the close of the year 1813, when Napoleon's star was setting, and his enemies were pressing hard upon him, the Dutch threw off the yoke of France, recalled the Prince of Orange, and proclaimed him at Amsterdam King of the United Netherlands, by the title of William I.-ED.

(275) On the first floor.

(276) Lady Caroline Lamb (born in 1785) was the wife of the Hon. William Lamb, afterwards Lord Melbourne and prime minister of England. A year or two before Fanny saw her, she was violently in love with Lord Byron: "absolutely besieged him," Rogers said. Byron was not unwilling to be besieged, though he presently grew tired of the lady, and broke off their correspondence, to her great distress, with an insulting and rather heartless letter. But it was more than a mere flirtation on Lady Caroline's part. She fainted away on meeting Byron's funeral (1824); "her mind became more affected; she was separated from her husband and died 26 January, 1828, generously cared for by him to the last."(Dict. of National Biography.) She was the author of two or three novel.-ED.

(277) Son of the Duke of Brunswick who invaded France in 1792, and who died in 1806 of the wounds which he received in the battle of Jena. His son was killed at Quatre Bras, June 16, 1815.-ED.