Before and after Waterloo Part 9

MAYENCE, _July 22nd_.

Our speed outstrips my pen. I am to retrace our steps to Soissons, whereas here we are upon the banks of the Rhine, which is hurrying majestically by to terminate its course amongst the d.y.k.es of Holland.

The nearer we came to Soissons[79] the nearer we perceived we were to the field of some terrible contest, and the suburbs, where the thickest of the fight took place, presented a frightful picture of war, not a house entire. It seems they were unroofed for the convenience of the attacking party, or set on fire, an operation which took up a very short s.p.a.ce of time, thanks to the energetic labours of about 50 or 60,000 men. Indeed, fire and sword had done their utmost--burnt beams, battered doors, not a vestige of furniture or window frames. I cannot give you a better idea of the quant.i.ty of shot, and consequent number of beings who must have perished, than by a.s.suring you that on one front of a house about the extent of our home, and which was not more favoured than its neighbours, I counted between 2 and 300 bullet marks. I was leaning against a bit of broken wall in a garden, which appeared to be the doorway to a sort of cellar, taking a sketch, when the gardener came up and gave me some particulars of the fight. He pointed to this cave or cellar as the place of shelter in which he and 44 others had been concealed, every moment dreading a discovery which, whether by friend or foe, they looked upon as equally fatal. Fortunately the foe were the discoverers. Upon the termination of the battle, which had been favourable to the Allies, in came a parcel of Russians upon the trembling peasants. Conceiving it to be a hiding-place for French soldiers, they rushed upon them, but finding none, satisfied themselves with asking what business they had there, and turning them out to find their way through blood and slaughter to some more secure place of shelter. A small mill pool had been so completely choked with dead that they were obliged to let off the water and clean it out. With Sir Charles Stuart's dispatches cut out of the Macclesfield Paper we ascended the Cathedral, and from thence, as upon a map, traced out the operations of both armies. Soissons is half surrounded by the Aisne, and stands on a fine plain, upon which the Russians displayed.

Buonaparte, in one of his Bulletins, abuses a governor who allowed the Allies to take possession of the town when he was in pursuit, thus giving them a pa.s.sage over the river, adding that had that governor done his duty the Russians might have been cut off. In England this was all voted "leather and prunello" and a mere vapouring opinion of the Emperor's, but as far as I could observe he was perfectly right, and had the governor been acting under my orders I question much whether I should not have hanged him. In looking about we were shewn a sort of town hall, with windows ornamented with the most beautiful painted gla.s.s you ever saw--nice little figures, trophies, landscapes, &c.--but a party of Russians had unfortunately been lodged there, and the gla.s.s was almost all smashed. I procured a specimen, but alas! portmanteaus are not the best packing-cases for gla.s.s, and in my possession it fared little better than with the Cossacks. However, if it is pulverised, I will bring it home as a Souvenir....

[Ill.u.s.tration: HOUSES AND TOWER, LAON, 1814.]

_To face p. 161._

From Soissons to Laon the country is uninteresting except from the late events. With the exception of the first view of the plain and town of Laon, we pa.s.sed village after village in the same state of ruin and dilapidation. Chavignon, about 4 miles from Laon, seemed, however, to have been more particularly the object of vengeance; it was throughout nearly a repet.i.tion of the suburbs of Soissons. Laon rises like a sort of Gibraltar from a rich and beautiful plain covered with little woods, vineyards, villages, and cornfields; the summit is crowned with an old castle, the town with its Cathedral towers and a parcel of windmills.

Buonaparte had been extremely anxious to dislodge the allies; for two days made a furious and almost incessant attack, which was fortunately unsuccessful owing, to speak in French terms, to _la pet.i.te trahison_, in plain English, the bravery of the Russians, who not only withstood the repeated shocks, but pursued the enemy all the way to Soissons, every little copse and wood becoming a scene of contest, and the whole plain was strewed with dead. Since quitting Rouen I do not recollect any town at all to be compared with Laon either in point of scenery without or picturesque beauty within; it is one of the most curious old places I ever saw--Round Towers, Gateways, &c. We took up our quarters at an odd-looking Inn, with the nicest people we had met with for some time.

They spoke with horror of the miseries they had undergone in this Inn, not much larger than Cutts' at Wilmslow; they had daily to feed and accommodate for upwards of two months 150 Russians of all descriptions, and this at a moment when provisions were, of course, extremely dear.

The landlord's daughter with two friends were imprisoned, actually afraid of putting their noses beyond the keyhole; luckily they could make artificial flowers, and two of them drew remarkably well; a favourite dog of the landlord's was their companion. A Cossack had one day taken him by the tail with the firm intent to put him on the kitchen fire, the bare recollection of which kindled all our host's anger, and he declared that had his poor dog been roasted, though he well knew the consequence, he should have shot the Cossack; fortunately the dog escaped, but as his Master a.s.sured me, never smelt or heard a Cossack's name mentioned afterwards without popping his tail between his legs and making off with the utmost speed. Both at this place and at Soissons we met with people with whom Davenport[80] had lodged, and in both places he has established a character which reflects the highest credit on his activity, humanity, and generosity. He was no idle spectator; he went about endeavouring by every means in his power to alleviate the miseries of war by protecting persons and property, and by administering to the wants of the sick and wounded of every description....

On the 16th we quitted Laon for Berry au Bac, pa.s.sing through Corbeny and close to the heights of Craon, upon which a battle was fought which might be considered as the coup de grace to the French. The Emperor commanded in person; he talked nearly half an hour with the Postmaster, whom he summoned before him; if the man spoke truth, his conversation appears to have been rather childish. After asking many questions about the roads and country, he vented a torrent of abuse against the Russians, upon whom he a.s.sured the Postmaster it was his intention to inflict summary punishment, and, indeed, according to the French translation of the business, he actually did so, tho' I never could find out that any other of the Imperial troops remained to enjoy the victory on these said heights, saving and except the wounded and killed; one spot was pointed out where in one grave were deposited the remains of 3,000....

In this village of Corbeny there had been sad devastation; but it was at Berry au Bac that we were to see the superlative degree of misery. This unfortunate little town had been captured 7 times--4 times by the Russians, 3 times by the French; their bridge, a beautiful work of 3 arches, only completed in December, was blown up March 19. The houses fared no better; whole streets were annihilated--chiefly for the sake of burning the beams for fire-wood by the Russians--but the walls were in great measure knocked over by the French, for what other purpose than wanton cruelty I could not learn. Pillage and violence of every description had been excessive. Some of the inhabitants died of pure fright; a gentleman-like-looking man a.s.sured me his own father was of the number. Even here the Cossacks were complimented for their comparative good behaviour, while the French and the Emperor were justly execrated--"Plait a Dieu" said a poor man who stood moaning over the ruins of his cottage, "Plait a Dieu, qu'il soit mort, et qu'on n'entendit plus de Napoleon";--the old woman, his wife, told me they only feared the Cossacks when they were drunk. An old Cossack had taken up his quarters with them--"Ah c'etait un bon Viellard; un bon Papa."

[Ill.u.s.tration: BERRY AU BAC.

_To face p. 164._]

One day a party of 20 or 30 drunken Cossacks broke into their yard, and insisted on entering the house; the old woman said she had nothing to fear and would have opened the door, but the Cossack seized her, saying, "There is but one way to save you," and taking her by the arm, shewed her to his companions as his prize and threatened the man who should touch his property with instant death. They did not dispute the matter with him and retired quietly. When they were out of sight he told her to follow him, and led her 3 or 4 miles up the country amongst the woods and left her in a place of safety, taking a kind leave of her and saying, "I have done all I could for you, now farewell"--and she saw no more of him....

We arrived at Rheims on the evening of the 16th, a large, fine, regular, dull-looking city in a dull-looking plain. The Cathedral is grand enough, but I felt no wish to remain till the Coronation. Hitherto we had seen inanimate vestiges of war, at Rheims we were to see the living effects. By accident we pa.s.sed the door of a large Church or Hall which had been converted into an Hospital for 400 Russian prisoners, and on benches near the porch were seated some convalescent patients without arms or legs. We stopped to speak to them as well as we could, and upon saying we were Englanders, one of the Russians with evident rapture and unfeigned delight made signs that there was a British soldier amongst their number, and immediately 4 or 5 of them ran to bring him out; and such a poor object did appear dragged along, his legs withered away and emaciated to the last degree. He had been wounded at St. Jean de Luz in the thigh, and subsequently afflicted with a fever which had thus deprived him of the use of his limbs. We gave something to those who were nearest, and on my asking if any Prussian was there to whom I could speak in French, as I wished to express our desire but inability to relieve all, I was conducted through the wards to a miserable being who was seated with his head suspended in a sling from the top of the bed, both legs dreadfully shattered, and unable to support himself upright through extreme weakness.

During the whole of supper-time the Hospital and this Englishman hung heavy on my mind; I felt as if I had not done enough, and that I might be of use in writing to his friends. Accordingly about 10 o'clock I went again to the Gate and begged admittance. On mentioning my wish to see the Englishman, I was immediately allowed to enter, and conducted up the wards. On each side were small beds, clean, and in admirable order; there was nothing to interrupt the silence but our own echoing footsteps and the groans of the poor patients all round. The Nurses were in the costume of Nuns, and from religious principles undertake the care of the sick--there was something very awful in marching up the aisles with these conductors at this time. My poor countryman was asleep when I came to his bedside. I took down memorandums of his case, and promised to write to his friends, and left him money to a.s.sist him on his road home, should he (of which I much doubt) ever recover.

I staid with him some time; in the course of the conversation some wounded Prussians came up on their crutches, and it was quite gratifying to see their kindness and goodwill to this poor fellow who, sole of his nation and kindred, was wasting away amongst strangers. They patted him on his head, called him their _cher_ and _bon garcon_, lifted him up that he might see and hear better, and he a.s.sured me that by them and by all the attendants he was treated with the utmost kindness and attention. Amongst 400 wounded soldiers whose deep groans and ghastly countenances announced that many were almost pa.s.sing the barrier which separates the mortal from the immortal, with their nurses by my side holding their glimmering tapers, each arrayed in the order of their religion and wearing the Cross as the badge of their profession, was a situation in which I had never before been placed. In offering ministerial advice, and, I trust, affording religious consolation under circ.u.mstances so solemn and peculiar, you may conceive that I did speak with all the earnestness and fervour in my power. I told the nurses who and what I was, and so far from entertaining any illiberal ideas as to the propriety of my interfering in what might be called their clerical department, they expressed the greatest pleasure and seemed to rejoice that their patient was visited by one of his own ministers.... Thus ended my visit to the Hospital at Rheims, which I never can forget.

We travelled the next day to Verdun, bidding adieu to the Hibberts at Chalons.

You will ask if we have seen any vestiges of war on the soil such as bodies. We have met with a tolerable quant.i.ty of dead horses by the road-side and in ditches, but only one human being, half scratched up by a dog, has appeared; a few rags of uniform dangling upon the skeleton bones called our attention to it.

Verdun is a very comfortable town of considerable extent decently fortified; the number of English there was from 1,000 to 1,100; they were all sent off in a hurry. At 5 in the evening they received the order, at 7 the next morning the greater part were off, and 24 hours afterward the Allies hovered round the town. The French boast, and n.o.body can contradict the a.s.sertion, that the Allies were never able to take their fortresses; certainly not; for they never attempted. Instead of losing their time in besieging, they left a few to mark the place and went on.... The English prisoners seem to have enjoyed every comfort they could expect--in fact, their imprisonment was in great measure nominal; with little difficulty they were allowed to go as far as they wished; they were noticed by the inhabitants, and many have married and settled in France. I think the prisoners in England have not been so well off, and complain with reason.

[Ill.u.s.tration: VERDUN BRIDGE.

_To face p. 168._]

We went to the English church and Theatre, and saw as much as we could for half a day. For the honor of my country I lament to say that many here contracted heavy debts which are not likely to be paid. Some instances were mentioned, the truth of which were proved by letters I read from the parties themselves, little creditable to our national character, and by persons, too, who ought to have known better. On the 18th we left Verdun for Metz. I had always winked at and generally encouraged the addition of another pa.s.senger behind our Cabriolet. The road was quite crowded with straggling soldiers going or returning to their several homes or regiments. We rarely pa.s.sed in a day less than 2 or 300, and really sometimes in situations so very favorable to robbing that I am surprised we were never attacked, their appearance being generally stamped with a character perfectly congenial to the Banditti Trade--dark, whiskered, sunburnt visages, with ragged uniform and naked feet. Sometimes we were more fortunate than at others; for instance, stragglers from the Hamburg garrison, whose wan faces bore testimony to the fact they related of having lived for the last 4 or 5 months on horseflesh; but our charitable a.s.sistance was to be this day most abundantly rewarded. We overtook a poor fellow, more wretched than most we had seen, toiling away with his bivouacking cloak tied round him. He, too, solicited, and misunderstanding my answer, said in the most pitiable but submissive tone, "Alors, Monsieur ne permettra pas que je monte?" "Tout au contraire," said I, "Montez tout de suite." After proceeding a little way I thought I might as well see who we had got behind us, and guess my astonishment when I received the answer. Who do you imagine, of all the people in the world, Buonaparte had raked forth to secure the Imperial Diadem upon his brow, to fight his battles, and deal in blood, but--A monk of La Trappe. For three years had he resided in Silence and solitude in this most severe society when Buonaparte suppressed it, and insisted that all the Noviciate Monks in No. 36 should sally forth and henceforth wield both their swords and their tongues; with lingering steps and slow our poor companion went. In the battle of Lutzen[81] he fought and conquered. In Leipsic[82] he fought and fell--the _wind_ of a shot tore his eye out and struck him down, and the shot killed his next neighbour upon the spot; he was taken prisoner by the Swedes, and was now returning from Stockholm to his brethren near Fribourg. The simplicity with which he told his tale bore ample testimony to the Truth, but in addition he shewed me his Rosary and credentials. After having talked over the battle I changed the subject, and determined to see if he could wield the sword of controversy as well as of war; and accordingly telling him who I was, asked his opinion of the Protestant Faith and the chief points of difference between us.

He hesitated a little at first: "Attendez, Monsieur, il faut que je pense un peu." In about a minute he tapped at the carriage. "Eh bien, Monsieur, j'ai pense," and then entered upon the subject, which he discussed with much good sense and ability, sometimes in Latin, sometimes in French; and though he supported his argument well and manfully, he displayed a liberality of sentiment and a spirit of true Christianity which quite attached me to him. I asked him his opinion of the _salvability_ of protestants and infallibility of Catholics.

"Ecoutez moi," was his reply. "Je pense que ceux qui savent que la Religion Catholique est la vraie Religion et ne la pratiquent pas, seront d.a.m.nes, mais pour ceux qui ne pensent pas comme nous. Oh non, Senor, ne le croyez pas. Oh mon Dieu! non, non! jamais, jamais!" "Are you _quite sure_ a minister ought not to marry? You will recollect St.

Peter was a married man." "Oh que, oui, c'est vrai, mais le moment qu'il suivit notre Seigneur on n'entend plus de sa femme." From this we proceeded to various other topics, amongst others to the propriety of renouncing a religion in which we conceived there were erroneous opinions. "Senor, ecoutez," said he, "can that religion be good which springs from a bad principle? Les Anglois etaient une fois des bons Catholiques; le Divorce d'un Roi capricieux fut la cause de leur changement. Ah, cela n'etait pas bon." ...

When we were on the point of parting he turned to me: "Senor, j'espere que je ne vous ai pas fache, si je me suis exprime trop fortement devant vous qui m'avez tant rendu service, il faut me pardonner, je suis pauvre et malheureux, mais je pensois que c'etait mon devoir."

It was as lucky a meeting for him as for me. I a.s.sisted him with money to expedite him homewards, and he entertained and interested me all the way to Metz, when, much against my will, we parted, for had he been going to Pekin I should have accommodated him with a seat....

LETTER IX.

COLOGNE, _July 25th_.

If you could see what I now see, or form any ideas adequate to the scenery around me, you would indeed prize a letter which, though commenced at 4 in the morning, cannot be valued at a less price than 2 or 3 old Castles; but it is not yet the moment to sing the praises of the Rhine. I shall only say that we slept at Bacharach, and that I am now looking at 4 old Castles whenever I raise my eyes from the paper, and that a fine old Abbey is only eclipsed by the gable end of a Church, equally curious, which is almost thrusting itself into the window as if to look at the strangers.

Little enlivened our day after parting with our Monk, unless I should except a good scene from a picture which happened at one of the Post houses. No Postillions were at home, so the Landlord himself was to drive--an enormous man, rather infirm, with a night-cap on his head, from whence emerged a long pigtail. It was necessary he should be put into his Jack boots. By Jack boots you are to understand two large things as big as portmanteaus, always reminding me of boots fit for the leg which appears in the Castle of Otranto. Accordingly no less than 4 or 5 persons actually lifted the Landlord into his boots, an operation which, from the weight and infirmities of the one and the extreme clumsiness of the others, took up nearly a quarter of an hour; and, of course, when fairly deposited in them he was unable to move, and further help was necessary to place him on the saddle.... The first view of Metz, after traversing an uninteresting country, is remarkably fine. It stands in a fine rich plain, near though beyond the reach of an eminence--for it does not deserve the name of a mountain--the sides of which are covered with woods, villages, and vineyards. There is something very grand in entering a fortified Town--the clattering of drawbridges, appearance of moats, guns, sentinels, and all the other etceteras of war. Our pa.s.sports were demanded for the first time. At length we were allowed to pa.s.s, and found ourselves in a large, clean town, chiefly remarkable for its Cathedral, the painted window of which was equal to any I ever saw. The first thing we invariably do in these towns is to ascend the highest spire, from whence the general plan and position are at once explained. You need not be alarmed. There is no fever at present at Metz, or on the Rhine; but there has been. From the close of 1813 and until the last two months not less than 69,000 sick or wounded have been in the hospitals of Metz--a large Church contained about 3,000 at a time, the remainder were scattered about wherever they could find room, and many breathed their last in the streets. Of course, such a concourse of dead and dying infested the air to a certain degree, and a fever was the result. However, not above 2 or 300 inhabitants suffered. Of the sick troops from 12 to 1,500 per day were buried without the town, and quicklime thrown in. We supped with three or four Frenchmen and a Genoese officer, one of Buonaparte's Imperial _Elites_ of the Guard. His form and countenance were quite Vandyck--I never looked upon a face so well calculated for a picture; his dark whiskers and black curling hair composed an admirable frame for a couple of the most expressive eyes; his manners were extremely gentleman-like, and you may conceive I did not talk and look at him with any diminution of interest when I found he was on his way home from Moscow. He had gone through the whole of the retreat, had almost reached the boundaries of Poland, when at Calick he was wounded, taken prisoner, and marched back to Moscow. His description of the miseries of that horrible retreat was petrifying--when a horse fell it was instantly surrounded by famished Frenchmen, who devoured the carcase; not merely those who slept were frozen, but even sentries upon their posts. Yet with all this he imputed no blame to Buonaparte. The Russians, he said, had reason to thank the severity of their climate, without which they must have been completely conquered. I will say this, indeed, that the Russians themselves seem to consider their own efforts as rather secondary to the weather. Besides this officer we had a Citizen of Metz, a young officer of the Polytechnique School who had fought at Montmartre, and a youth who was silent; the other 3, however, made ample amends, talking incessantly, and all equally vehement in praise of Buonaparte. The officer blessed his stars that he had enough to live upon, and that he was now quitting a service which, having lost its brightest ornament, was no longer interesting or supportable. The young Polytechnique was equally violent, with less of the gentleman to soften it down. He, too, was disgusted, and had retired for the same reason (these Frenchmen are sad liars after all). Of course, as he had been engaged with his school companions I thought I could not have a better opportunity of ascertaining the number killed at Montmartre, as it was invariably circulated and believed at Paris that this defence was n.o.ble to a degree and that the greater part perished by their guns. You will recollect that the Polytechnique cadets I met on the heights of Montmartre said the same, and yet the youth a.s.serted that they had not lost a single individual, that only 30 were wounded, whereas they knocked over the Russians in countless mult.i.tudes.[83] The Citizen took the best ground for his Panegyric. He referred us to the roads, the public buildings, the national improvements which France had gained under the dynasty of Napoleon; and when I hinted the intolerable weight of the taxes (being 1/5 on all rents and property) he made light of them, a.s.suring me that Frenchmen had quite enough left for the comforts of life. When they all filled their gla.s.ses to drink to the health of their hero I turned to the Genoese officer and begged first to drink to the restoration of Genoa to that independence of which Napoleon had in great measure deprived her, adding that her present degradation was a cruel contrast to the dignified station she once held in Europe. His national superseded his Imperial feelings, and he drank my toast with great good humour and satisfaction; nor did he think it necessary in return to press me to drink success to the Emperor, though the Citizen on my refusal, half in joke, half in earnest, said he wished I might be ill off for the rest of my journey.

My good fortune has not quitted me, however. The next morning on getting into the Diligence we found only one pa.s.senger--Major Kleist, nephew to the celebrated Prussian General and to General Tousein--a Russian equally famous here though not so well known in England. His appearance was much in his favor; he talked a great deal; had commanded a regiment of the Russian Imperial Elites of the Guard (in which he still was) at the battle of Leipsic and throughout the campaign; been engaged in every action from the Borodino to the capture of Paris; wounded two or three times; fought a French Officer in the Bois de Boulogne, and got his finger cut abominably; visited London and Portsmouth with his Emperor, dined with the Regent, &c. He told me many interesting anecdotes and particulars, although, from a certain random way of speaking and the loose, unconnected manner in which his words dropped from him, I could not place implicit confidence in what he said, nor vouch for the accuracy of his accounts. He said decidedly that Alexander had visited the Princess of Wales in London incog.; he mentioned an anecdote which I cannot quite believe, because had it occurred in Paris we must have heard of it. One day when Eugene Beauharnais was with Louis XVIII.

Marmont came in. Eugene, on seeing him, turned to the King, said, "Sire, here is a Traitor; do not trust in him; he has betrayed one master, he may betray you."

Marmont, of course, challenged him; they fought the next day and Marmont was wounded in the arm. He spoke highly of the King of Prussia as a military, una.s.suming, amiable, sensible man, and that he _does_ visit the tomb of his wife.[84] Alexander, he said, was fond of diplomacy, an amiable man, very brave, but not much of a general. I asked him what he thought of the d.u.c.h.ess of Oldenburg. When I said she had excellent sense and great information, he simply replied, "Oui, et peut-etre un pen trop." Of Constantine[85] he spoke with indignation, and his whiskers vibrated as he described his detestable character--debauched, depraved, cruel, dishonest, and a coward. Constantine was abusing a Colonel in very gross tones, a short time ago, for misconduct and incompetency in battle. "Indeed!" said the officer; "you must have been misinformed; this cannot arise from your own observation, as I do not recollect having ever seen you near me upon these occasions."

No wonder the Russians were moderate towards the inhabitants during the campaign--their discipline was severe enough. Our friend the Major caught 7 Cossacks plundering a cottage; he had them all tied up and knouted them to death by the moderate infliction of 1,000 blows each. In truth he seemed to hold the lives of these gentlemen, including the Calmucs, rather cheap. "Pour moi," said he, "Je considere un Cossac, un Calmuc et un Moineau a peu pres comme la meme chose."

At St. Avold we again fell in with a regiment of Russians, or rather detachments from many regiments. Whoever they were they did not appear to be in high favour with the Major. "Our army," said he, "is divided into three cla.s.ses--the first we can trust for discipline and ability; the second consists of Cossacks and other irregulars, whose business is reconnoitring, plundering, and running away when they see the Enemy; the men before you compose the third--fellows who know nothing and do nothing, but can stand quietly in the place a.s.signed them and get killed one after another without ever thinking of turning their backs"; and their appearance was very like their character--patient, heavy, slumbering, hard-featured countenance; sitting or standing without any appearance of animation.

At St. Avold we began to lose the French language, and from this my fluency was reduced to signs, or at most to a very laconic speech--"Ich Englander, Ich woll haben Brod mitt Cafe," &c. At Dendrich, a little village near Forbach, we crossed the new line of demarcation between France and Austria, and found the towns chiefly occupied by Bavarians.

Unless I am much mistaken, this country will soon be a bone of contention; the people (as far as I can judge in three days) are dissatisfied, and the leaders of France look with a jealous eye on the encroachment, and an imaginary line of separation will not easily be respected. Here I saw what is meant by a German forest--as far as the eye could reach all was wood. Austria may, if she pleases, by her new accession of territory become charcoal vendor to the whole world. The road is excellent, carried on in a fine, broad, straight line. Till Buonaparte spoke the word, there was no regular communication between Metz and Mayence, now there is not a more n.o.ble road for travelling. We were now in the Hock country; in the Villages we bought what I should have called wine of the same sort for 6d. a bottle....

On Thursday, the 21st, we entered Mayence, over and through similar drawbridges, bastions, hornworks, counterscarps as at Metz; here we met a curious a.s.semblage. By the first Gate were stationed a guard of Prussians with the British Lions on their caps, John Bull having supplied some Prussian Regiments with Uniforms. At the next gate a band of white Austrians, with their caps shaded with boughs of Acacia (you will remember that their custom of wearing green boughs in their Hats was interpreted by the French into a premeditated insult). These, with Saxons in red, Bavarians in light blue, and Russians in green, made out the remainder of the motley crew. We found an excellent Inn, and dined at a Table d'Hote with about 30 people. The striking contrast we already perceived between the French and Austrians was very amusing, the former all bustle and loquacity with dark hair, the latter grave and sedate with light hair; the Inns, accommodation, eating, &c., much cleaner; a band played to us during dinner, and I was pleased to see the Austrian moustachios recede with a smile of satisfaction as they listened to the "Cha.s.se de Henri Quatre."

There is little to be seen in the town. I found a most intelligent bookseller, and was tantalised with the number of fine Engravings, &c., I might have purchased for a trifle....

I have heard a curious political report repeated here, which is current all over the Continent--that Austria has sold the Netherlands and Brabant to England; the report gains credit probably because the towns in that part of the country are still garrisoned with British troops.

Poor England is certainly not much beloved; we are admired, feared, respected, and courted; but these people will have, and perhaps with some reason, that upon all occasions our own Interest is the sole object of consideration; that our Treaties have the good of ourselves and not the peace of Europe at heart; and so far they carry this opinion, that I was very near getting into a quarrel with a fat man in the Diligence who spoke it as a common idea that we fought with our money and not with our blood, for that we were too rich to risk our lives, and had there been a bridge that Napoleon would have been in London long ago. I told him he knew nothing at all about the matter (to which, by the bye, he afterwards virtually a.s.sented), and as a Frenchman's choler does not last long, we were good friends the rest of the journey, and he apologised for his behaviour, saying, it was a failing of his--"de s'echauffer bientot." Upon one point we agreed, too, in politics, viz., being Anti-Napoleonites.

Now for the Rhine. At 10 o'clock on Friday, July 22nd, in a little rotten, picturesque-looking boat and two men (preferring a private conveyance to the public pa.s.sage boats for the convenience of stopping at pleasure) we left Mayence; the river here is about half a mile across, traversable by a bridge of boats. The Maine falls into it just above the town, and there appears nothing on the Frankfort or Strasburgh side to interest a traveller's eye, the country being flat vine or corn land. The Stream runs with a steady rapidity of about three and a half or 4 miles an hour, so that in a boat, with the addition of oars, you may proceed at the rate of about 6 miles an hour. The distance to Cologne is about 120 miles. On the bank of the River we saw some of those immense floats preparing which are composed of timbers for the Holland markets. We glided with an imperceptible motion down the stream, expecting as we proceeded to behold the magnificent ruins of which we had heard so much. But, alas! village succeeded village, town followed town, and yet not a single turret made its appearance. We sat with our sketch books in battle array, but our pencils were asleep; we began to regret the uninteresting, even country we had pa.s.sed from Metz to Mayence, and the time which might be called lost in coming so far for so useless a purpose, and to make vow after vow that we would never in future believe the account given by others respecting people and places.

By this time our appet.i.tes began to grow keen, luckily, just at the time when our spirits began to flag, and, accordingly, we went on sh.o.r.e at Rudesheim, famous for its excellent hock, and having dispatched a dinner and bottle of hock we ventured forth to explore, and, luckily, fell in with a little Gothic round tower, which, with the dinner, rather raised our spirits and enabled us to proceed 4 or 5 miles further to Bingen when we turned a Corner....

I verily believe such another corner does not exist in the world. From the corner of Bingen must be dated the beauties of the Rhine, and from the corner of Bingen I commence my next letter; suffice it now to say that the moment we turned the Corner we both, with one impulse, called out, "Oh!" and sat in the boat with our hands uplifted in speechless astonishment....

LETTER X.

AIX LA CHAPELLE, _July 27, 1814_.

I left you turning the corner of Bingen, now let me describe what there presented itself. On the left a beautiful picturesque town, with tower and picturesque-looking steeples placed each exactly on the spot an artist would have selected, with hills and woods on each side and a bridge running over a small river which emptied itself in the Rhine.

Immediately before us, on a small islet, stood the Tower of Mausthurm, or the Mouse turret, so called from a tradition that a Baron once locked up a number of his Va.s.sals in a tower and then set fire to it and consumed it and its inhabitants, in consequence of which certain mice haunted him by day and by night to such a degree that he fled his Country and built this solitary Tower on its island. But all this would not do. The Mice pursued him to his Island, and the tale ends in his being devoured by them there.

On both sides the river hills covered with vines and woods rose abruptly, and on the right, tottering on a pinnacle that frowns over the flood, stood the Castle of Ehrenfels....

It would be quite impossible, and indeed unnecessary (as my sketch-book can best unfold the tale), to describe all we saw. For above 100 miles, with little interruption, the same scenery presented itself, attaining its superlative point of grandeur in the neighbourhood of Lorich and Bacharach. It might be called a perfect Louvre of old Castles, each being a chef d'uvre of its species. I could almost doubt the interference of a human hand in their creation. Placed upon elevated and apparently impossible crags, they look more like the fortresses of the Giants when they warred against the G.o.ds than any thing else. But the Castles were not the only points of attraction. Every mile presented a village as interesting as the battlements which threatened to crush them to death from above. Each vied with its neighbour in picturesque beauty, and the people as well as the buildings in these remote nooks and corners partook of the wild character of the scenery. A shower of rain and close of the day induced us to make Bacharach our sleeping-place. The Landlord, with his night-cap on his head and pipe in his mouth, expressed no surprise at our appearance. The coffee and the milk and the hock came in due season when he had nodded acquiescence to my demand, and he puffed away with as much indifference as if two strange Englishmen had not been in his house. We found good clean beds, and should have slept very well but for the deep-toned Bell of the Church within a few yards of us, which tolled the time of night every half-hour, and for a watchman who, by way of murdering the little sleep which had survived the sound of the Bell, sounded with all his might a cow-horn, and then, as if perfectly satisfied that he had awaked every soul in the village, bawled out the hour and retired, leaving them just time to fall asleep again before the half-hour called for a repet.i.tion of his exertions.

Every evening about dusk, in our course down the river, a curious Phenomenon presented itself which to me, as an Entomologist, had peculiar charms. We were surrounded as far as the eye could reach with what appeared to be a fall of snow, but which, in fact, was a cloud of beautiful white Ephemera just emerged from their Chrysalis state to flutter away in their perfection for one or two hours before their death. I mention this circ.u.mstance now, whilst it is fresh in my memory, for I really should hesitate in relating it before company for fear of being accused of traveller's stories. I had heard of them before, and was therefore not so much surprised, though the infinite number was truly astonishing.

On Sat.u.r.day, 23rd, we dined and spent an hour or two in Coblentz, which, situated at the junction of the Moselle with the Rhine, is strongly fortified towards the land. There is little worth notice in the town except a Stone fountain erected by Napoleon, from the pipes of which run the united streams of the two rivers. Upon these are carved in large letters the two following inscriptions, the one immediately below the other in characters precisely similar:--