Before and after Waterloo Part 14

(_E. Stanley resumes next day._)

A dead calm succeeded to a gentle breeze, and on the soft, sleepy billows we have reposed in the Downs, rolling ever since. To comfort us we have a beautiful Packet and a limited number of pa.s.sengers.

The discomfort consists in a rapid diminution of all our provisions and the consequent prospect of no Tea, supper, or breakfast, or dinner to-morrow. One sailor said to another as he was skinning some miserable fish, "Aye, aye, they" (meaning the pa.s.sengers) "will be glad enough of these in a day or two, and I was eleven days becalmed last year."

Kitty, to fill up an hour of vacuity, said she would draw, and to fill up my time this testifies that I have been thinking of you and wishing for your presence, for the Novelty alone would keep you in full effervesence and banish all Tediosity.

I have, moreover, been playing with a sweet little French dog brought by one of the sailors from Boulogne. The sailors have daily given him two gla.s.ses of gin to check his growth, and a marvellous dog of Lilliput he is! Pray, my dear Lou, drink no gin, for you see the consequences.

I had retired to bed, when Edward Leycester called me up to admire a beautiful display of Neptune's fireworks; wherever the surface of the waves was agitated, the circles of silver flashed and the drops were scattered far and wide.

The morning dawned upon us nearly in the same position, not a breath troubled the surface, smooth and still as Radnor Mere on the sweetest evening.

Famine began to stare us in the face; our provisions were nearly exhausted; two or more days might elapse before we reached Ostend.

We breakfasted on tea, fried skate and cheese. Breakfast at an end, it was proposed to board the nearest vessel and beg or borrow a dinner. In the tide course appeared a sail, about five miles distant.

The boat was lowered, volunteers stepped forward--Uncle, Edward, Donald, and a gentleman-like Belgian.

Away we went and by hard rowing we came alongside the strange sail in an hour. Three leaden figures, motionless as the unwieldly bark they manned, gazed curiously upon our approaching boat. Our Belgian friend hailed, but hailed in vain. They looked but spoke not. Again he spoke, and at length a monotonous "yaw" proclaimed that they were not dumb.

We went on board and found a perfect Dutch family on their way from Antwerp to Rouen. Out stepped from her cabin the Captain's wife in appropriate costume, her close little cap, large gold necklace and ear-rings; and behind the Captain's spouse stepped forth two genuine descendants of the nautical couple. Large round heads with large round (what shall I say?) Hottentots to match and keep up the due balance between head and tail.

Having explained our wants to the Captain, he produced as the chief restorative an incomparable bottle of Schiedam, _i.e._, gin. To each he offered a good large gla.s.s, and then in answer to our request for beef, four bottles of excellent claret, two square loaves. For this he asked a guinea, upon receiving which his features relaxed and he declared we should have two more bottles of claret. Upon hearing we had a lady in the packet he begged her acceptance of half a neat's tongue, some b.u.t.ter, and a bag of rusks. Loaded with them, we took a joyful leave of these sombre sailors and returned, with the orange cravat of our Belgian friend for a flag, in triumph to the packet.

But a truce to my pen. Ostend is in sight, and now we are all rubbing our hands and congratulating each other that wind and tide are in our favour and that we shall be in in a couple of hours.

_Rev. E. Stanley to his niece, Isabella Stanley._[107]

BRUGES, _June 14, 1816_.

On our return from the Dutch vessel from which we recruited our exhausted store, we found our poor Captain in sad tribulation, his patience exhausted, but his temper luckily preserved. Having paced his deck with a fidgeting velocity a due number of times, peeped thro' his gla.s.s at every distant sail or cloud to observe whether they were in any degree movable, and invoked Boreas in the most pitiable terms such as "Oh Borus! Now do, good Borus just give us a blow," we had the satisfaction at length, the supreme satisfaction, of perceiving a gentle curl upon the water which soon settled into a steady breeze, before which we glided away, delightfully enjoying our dinner upon the deck, during which our party manifested their respective characters in most charming style. One Farmer Dinmont[108] and Dousterswivel, a Dutchman, were perfect specimens. A merry Belgian Equerry to the Prince of Orange, laughed, joked, and amused us with sleight-of-hand tricks. Our Dutch beef, tho' doubtless salt far beyond due proportion, was relished by all, Dinmont excepted, who p.r.o.nounced it, together with the dark-coloured bread, unfit for English hogs, and shook his head with a most significant expression of doubt at my a.s.sertion that I never enjoyed a better dinner in my life. At five o'clock the low sand hills appeared to view in little nodules upon the horizon, and the Steeple of Ostend with its Lighthouse were visible from deck. At 6 we were close in upon land, and in half an hour were boarded by a Dutch boat, but alas!

there was nothing in its appearance to excite curiosity, and with the exception of large earrings you might have fancied yourself in Holyhead Harbour. Four stout, tall fellows, hard and resolute in feature and decided in action, proclaimed their near alliance to British Jack Tars.

They remained a little while and tried to cheat the pa.s.sengers as much as possible, to take us on sh.o.r.e, but finding us determined to remain till the Captain could get his own boat ready, they shrugged their shoulders, abused us in Dutch, and sailed away. We were too many for one boat, so taking Kitty and the best of our English pa.s.sengers and honest Farmer Dinmont, with all the luggage, we pushed off from the vessel.

People of all descriptions, pilots, sailors, customs officers, soldiers, waiters soliciting customs for their respective turns. Porters regular and irregular, the latter consisting of a sort of light Infantry corps of ragged boys. All these people, I say, were crowded together on a little peninsular jetty against which our boat was shoved, and no sooner had the oars ceased to play and our keel cleared the sand than all these people set up their pipes in every dialect of every tongue, French and English both bad of their sort, Dutch high and low, Flemish and German.

All burst upon us at one and the same moment, and the Cossack corps of ragged porters all stept forward, arm, leg and foot, to claim the honour of carrying up (most probably of carrying off) our baggage. By dint of words fair and foul, a shove here and a push there, I contrived to get Kitty under my arm and superintend, tho' with no small trouble and inconceivable watchfulness, the adjustment of our small portmanteaux, writing case, &c., in a wheelbarrow, which, from its formidable length of handle, bespoke its foreign manufacturer. On we jogged, but jogged not long; for before this acc.u.mulating procession could disperse we were arrested by a whiskered soldier, who in unintelligible terms announced himself a searcher of baggage. So to the custom house we went, when each trunk was opened and submitted to a slight inspection; the chief difficulty consisting in putting myself in 2 places at once--one close to the depot of our goods in the barrow, the other before the officer with the keys. Kitty was wedged in a corner with a writing case and, I think, Donald's sword. My English companion was equally on the alert, but Farmer Dinmont would have excited all your compa.s.sion, or rather admiration; for here amidst the din of tongues and arms, unable to move hand or foot, he stood with a smile of mingled resignation and wonder; at length, the search being concluded to the satisfaction of both parties, we re-commenced our course, and in a few minutes Kitty found herself in a new world. Women and children unlike any women and children you ever saw; close caps with b.u.t.terfly wings for the former, little black skull bonnets for the latter, in shape both alike, much resembling those toys which, if placed on their heads, by their superior specific gravity and extensive sacrifice of their lower projections instantly revolve and settle upon their tails.

"Voici, Messieurs et Madame, entrons dans la Cour Imperiale," and another moment hoisted us within the covered gateway of this Hotel of Imperial appellation. Our arrangements for sleeping and eating being complete, we sat down on a bench before the door to gaze, but not to be gazed upon, for the good people never cast an eye upon us. On retiring to tea, good Farmer Dinmont's countenance relaxed as he flung himself into a chair; he put his hands upon the table and exclaimed, "Well, well, here I am sitting down for the first time out of Old England!" ...

A cup of tea, or rather a kettle full, for our salt beef had kindled an insatiable thirst, put him in good humour again, and, but for a sort of sigh or a look or a jerk which proved Old England to be uppermost in his thoughts, he appeared quite satisfied. With some trouble Kitty secured the fly cap chambermaid and had taken possession of her room; having seen her safe, I descended to give orders for a warming-pan, leaving her (after having been 2 nights in her clothes) to the luxury of an entire change of linen and course of ablutions. On re-crossing the court 10 minutes afterwards I ran against a waiter running off with a warming-pan, glowing with red-hot embers. "Mais donc" said I, "Madame wants a warming-pan. Allons, where is the chambermaid to carry it?" "Oh, n'importe," replied this flying Mercury; "c'est moi qui fera cela pour la dame!" Only guess Kitty's escape! Another moment and he would have been in her presence, warming-pan and all. By dint of remonstrating I checked his course and prevailed upon the Maid to go herself with vast ill humour, innumerable shrugs, and some few "Mon Dieu's" and other suitable expressions. Kitty must herself be the interpreter of her own feelings in these lands of novelty. I am almost glad you were, none of you, here to witness what she will have such pleasure in describing. Our morning pa.s.sed away in strolling over the town. Kitty and I dined at the table d'hote with about 20 people. Farmer Dinmont sent for a bottle of the best wine to try it and offered me a gla.s.s. I begged to propose a toast, "Prosperity to Old England." His features brightened up, he grasped the bottle, filled a b.u.mper, and replied, "Aye, aye, with all my heart; that Toast I would drink in ditch water." We left Ostend at 3 o'clock to take pa.s.sage in the Bruges ca.n.a.l, and I do a.s.sure you we all felt quite sorry to leave our dear, good, honest John Bull.

At Saas we fell in with a specimen of Lord Wellington's operations.

There is a formidable battery erected last year by way of guarding Ostend from a "coup de main"; it is singular that the English have placed a Battery for the defence close to the celebrated sluice gates of this ca.n.a.l, which gates were blown up by Sir Evelyn Coote to prevent the French from inundating the country, when he invaded it some years before.

Behold us seated in a s.p.a.cious room, for it does not deserve the diminutive name of "Cabin," decorated with hangings of green cloth and gold border, on board a most commodious barge. Behold us on a lovely evening starting from the Quay with full sail and 3 horses, a man mounted on one and cracking a great long whip to drive on the other two, which trotted away abreast at the rate of 4-1/2 miles an hour. Behold us seated on this easy chair of Neptune! our ears deafened and our spirits enlivened by a band of music--trumpet, violin, and ba.s.s--admirably playing Waltzes and other national tunes. When they had amused us on deck they went below to another cla.s.s of auditors. Our fellow traveller, Mr. Trueman, followed them, and perceiving him to be English they struck up "G.o.d save the King." A Frenchman called out "Ba, ba," a very expressive mode of communicating disapprobation, but seeing Trueman was of a different opinion, he ceased from his "Ba, ba," and stepping towards him made him a low bow. About 6 o'clock we arrived at Bruges, or rather to the wharf from whence pa.s.sengers betake themselves and portmanteaux to barrows and sledges. As we approached our Band resumed their musical exertions. A crowd a.s.sembled to welcome our arrival, Gigs, coaches (such coaches!!), Hors.e.m.e.n (such Hors.e.m.e.n!!), were parading.

Such a light with such a rainbow shone upon such an avenue and such picturesque gate!! Our baggage filled a car drawn by 3 stout men; and we all followed in the rear.... Bruges is a town affording five or six volumes of sketches; towers, roofs, gable ends, bridges--all in succession called for exclusive admiration. It was decided that we should rise at 4, breakfast at 6, and see all that was possible before 9, when we were to continue our route to Ghent. At 3 o'clock I was prepared, but a steady rain forced me reluctantly to bed again, but we did breakfast at 6, and did pick up two or three sketches.

_Mrs. E. Stanley to Lady Maria J. Stanley._

BRUSSELS, _June 18, 1816_.

[Ill.u.s.tration: FRENCH CABRIOLET.

_To face p. 260._]

On the 18th of June, how can I begin with any other subject than Waterloo?... At 8 this morning we mounted our Cabriolets for Waterloo.

Donald put on his Waterloo medal for the first time, and a French shirt he got in the spoils, and a cravat of an officer who was killed, and I wrapped myself in his Waterloo cloak, and we all felt the additional sensation which the anniversary of the day produced on everybody. It brought the comparison of the past and present day more perfectly home.

Donald was ready with his recollections every minute of the day, what had been his occupation or his feeling. The forest of Soignies is a fine approach to the field of battle--dark, damp, and melancholy. If you had heard nothing about it, you could hardly help feeling, in pa.s.sing through it, that you would not like to cross it alone. There are no fine trees, but the extent and depth of wood gives it all the effect of a fine one, and an effect particularly suited to the a.s.sociations connected with it. The road--a narrow pavement in the middle with black mud on each side--looks as if it had never felt a ray of sun, and from its state to-day gave me a good idea of what it must have been.

Sometimes the road is raised thro' a deep hollow, and it was not possible to look down without shuddering at the idea of the horses and carriages and men which had been overturned one upon another; in some parts the trees are _a la_ Ralph Leycester, and you see the dark black of shade of the distant wood through them; but in other parts it is so choked with brushwood and inequalities of ground, that you could not see two yards before you, and no gorge was ever so good a cover for foxes as this for all evil-disposed persons. At Waterloo we stopped to see the Church, or rather the monuments in it, put up by the different regiments over their fallen officers. They are all badly designed and executed but one Latin one--not half so good as the epitaph on Lord Anglesey's leg which the man had buried with the utmost veneration in his garden and planted a tree over it; and he shows as a relic almost as precious as a Catholic bit of bone or blood, the blood upon a chair in the room when the leg was cut off, which he had promised my lord "_de ne jamais effacer_".

At Mont St. Jean Donald began to know where he was. Here he found the well where he had got some water for his horse; here the green pond he had fixed upon as the last resource for his troop; here the cottage where he had slept on the 17th; here the breach he had made in the hedge for his horses to get into the field to bivouac; here the spot where he had fired the first gun; here the hole in which he sat for the surgeon to dress his wound. He had never been on the field since the day of the battle, and his interest in seeing it again and discovering every spot under its altered circ.u.mstances was fully as great as ours.

After all that John Scott[109] or Walter Scott or anybody can describe or even draw, how much more clear and satisfactory is the conception which one single glance over the reality gives you in an instant, than any you can form from the best and most elaborate description that can be given! To see it in perfection would be to have an officer of every regiment to give you an account just of everything he saw and did on the particular spot where he was stationed.

Donald scarcely knew as much as Edward did or as the people about of what pa.s.sed anywhere but just at his own station. But at every place it was sufficient to ask the inhabitants where they were and what they saw, to obtain interesting information.

[Ill.u.s.tration: Hougoumont ... June 18th

_To face p. 263._]

Every plan I have seen makes it much too irregular, rough ground; it is all undulating, smooth ups and downs, so gradual that you must look some time before you discover all the irregularity there is. Hougoumont[110]

is the only interesting point, and that by having an air of peace and retirement about it most opposite to what took place in it.

It is a respectable, picturesque farmhouse, with pretty trees and sweet fields all around it; the ravages are not repaired and many of the trees cut down. We left our carriages in the road and walked all over the British position, and henceforward I shall have a clearer idea, not only of Waterloo, but of what a military position and military plan is like.

At La Belle Alliance we sat upon a bench where Lord Wellington and Blucher perhaps met, and drank to their healths in Vin de Bordeaux. In spite of the corn, there are still bits of leather caps and bullets and bones scattered about in the fields, and you are pestered with children innumerable with relics of all sorts. We had heard magnificent accounts on our road here of all that was to be done on the field, b.a.l.l.s, fetes, sham fights, processions, and I do not know what, but they have all dwindled to a dinner given here to the Belgian soldiers and a Ma.s.s to be said for the souls of the dead to-morrow. However, we saw what we wished as we wished, and the impression is perhaps clearer than if it had been disturbed and mixed with other sights.

And now, being near 12, and I having walked about 8 miles, and been up since 6, must go to bed, though I feel neither sleepy nor tired.

_To Lucy Stanley._

_June 24, 1816._

...Away with me to Waterloo!

We arrived at Brussels on the evening of the 17th, and at seven o'clock started for the scene of action. From Brussels a paved road, with a carriage track on each side, pa.s.ses for nine miles to the village of Waterloo.

The Forest (of Soignies) is, without exception, one of the most cut-throat-looking spots I ever beheld, ... and for some days after the battle deserters and stragglers, chiefly Prussians, took up their abode in this appropriate place, and sallying forth, robbed, plundered, and often shot those who were unfortunate enough to travel alone or in small defenceless parties.

After traversing this gloomy avenue for about four miles, the first symptoms of war met our eyes in the shape of a dead horse, whose ribs glared like a cheval-de-frise from a tumulus of mud. If the ghosts of the dead haunt these sepulchral groves, we must have pa.s.sed through an army of spirits, as our driver, who had visited the scene three days after the battle, described the last four miles as a continued pavement of men and horses dying and dead.

[Ill.u.s.tration: Interior of Hugomont June 18, 1816.

_To face p. 265._]