Before and after Waterloo / Letters from Edward Stanley, sometime Bishop of Norwich (1802; 1814; 1816)

We find this, like every other town and village, swarming with Prussian troops. General Kleist commands, and has no less an army than 170,000. This seems very like a determination of the King of Prussia not to give up the slice he has gained in the grand continental scramble. Every uniform we saw was of British manufacture. An officer told me we had furnished sufficient for 70,000 Infantry and 20,000 Cavalry.

There is little to be seen in this place. The country about reminded me most of England; for the first time on the continent we saw hedges and trees of tolerable size growing amongst them. We were directed above all other things to pay our respects to the great gambling table. It is, indeed, one of the Lions of the Town; the room is splendid in size, and everybody goes to see it. It is open 3 times a day for about 2 or 3 hours each time. About 50 or 60 people were winning or losing round a large table at a game apparently something like vingt un; not a word was said, but money was shovelled to the right and left very plentifully.... I forgot to mention that near Linz on the Rhine we passed a headland fronted and inlaid with as fine a range of Basaltic columns as the Giant's Causeway, some bent, some leaning, some upright. They are plentiful throughout that part of the country, and are remarkably regular; all the stone posts are formed of them, and even here I still see them....[193]

Letter XI.

Bruxelles, 29th.

After a night and greater part of two days passed in a species of oven called a French Diligence, with Réaumur Thermometer at 23—hotter, you will observe, than is necessary to hatch silkworms, and very nearly sufficient to annihilate your unfortunate brother and husband—did we arrive at Bruxelles.... I must give you a few details that you may fully understand the extent of our misery. We arrived at Liège all well, with only two other passengers; conceive our sorrow when on re-entering the Diligence after dinner we found besides ourselves and a lady the places occupied by a Dutch officer, who sat gasping without his coat, and so far exhausted by the heat, though he had been ten years in Batavia, that his pipe hung dangling as if he had not breath sufficient to keep its vestal fire alive, and a lady with two children besides living intruders. A net from the top was filled with bags, baskets, and band-boxes. Our night was sad indeed, and the groans of our fellow-travellers and the ineffectual fluttering of a fan which the Officer used proved how little they were satisfied with the order of things. The children were crammed with a succession of French Plums, almonds, garlicked mutton, liqueurs, and hock, all of which ingredients the kind mother endeavoured to cement on their Stomachs by Basons of milk at sunrise, but no sooner had a few additional jolts[194] brought these bons-bons into close contact than the windows were occupied the rest of the journey by the stretched-out heads of the poor children.

The heat has been more excessive for the last 4 or 5 days than has been experienced for many years in this country; and, in short, when I think it worth while to mention heat as the cause of real inconvenience, you may consider it such as would have thrown you into a fever. Enough of our personal sufferings, which you may easily conceive have been few indeed if the above is worth recording....

I left Aix la Chapelle with no great regret. The Country round it is pretty, much resembling Kent, but as a town or watering-place it has nothing to recommend but its gambling-table. I expected to have found a museum of human nature and national character.—Tables d'hôtes crowded with the best bred of all countries, but just the reverse. There were Tables d'hôte's at the minor Inns tolerably frequented, but none at the most fashionable; there the guests lived by themselves. There is no point of rendezvous, no promenade, no Assembly room, where the concentrated world may be seen. Like Swedenborgh's theory of living in the midst of invisible spirits, so at Aix la Chapelle (unless time and opportunity may have thrown him into private circles) a traveller may be surrounded by Princes and Potentates without knowing or benefiting by their illustrious presence; the Glenbervies made the same complaint. From Aix to[195] Liège we had the company of a very pleasant, well-informed citizen of Liège (indeed, all the military classes in Germany seem well informed), who in pathetic terms lamented his lot. In the cutting up of this grand continental dish Prussia has had Benjamin's mess in this part of the country. We have his troops, with few exceptions, forming a cordon within the Rhine from Saarbruck to Liège, and they are by no means popular. We have clothed them, and all the people feed them, besides having been called upon for contributions. It is flattering to see the high respect shown to the British character, which increases as opportunities occur of observing its effects. If we were like the people of Bruxelles (said our Liègeois) all would be well; we should rejoice in having a garrison. British troops, so far from exacting contributions or demanding free quarters, pay for everything, are beloved by the people, and money circulates, whereas under the Prussian government we pay all, are put to all manner of inconvenience, and receive neither thanks nor satisfaction. They appear to have been peculiarly unfortunate in all wars. Poor Liège has received a thump from one, a kick from another, and been robbed by a third. The Austrians have burnt their Suburbs, the Republicans sold their national and ecclesiastical Estates, and lately they have had the pleasure of being pillaged by French Marshals and satisfying the voracious appetite of the Crown Prince, who put them to an expense of 150,000 frs. in providing[196] his table for 7 weeks, and when they hinted that they thought it but fair their Royal visitor should pay for his own dinners, he departed, leaving his bills unpaid. He seems to have been secreting himself here like a Cat in a barn watching the motions of the mice, acting solely from interested motives, and ready to pounce upon whatever might be safely turned to his own advantage. When the French retreated out of Holland the Duke of Tarentum[88] did the poor people at Liège the honour of making their town a point in the line of his march. He stopped one night, and because the inhabitants did not illuminate and express great joy at his illustrious presence he demanded an immediate contribution of 300,000 frs., 150,000 of which were paid the next morning. Luckily the Allies appeared towards Noon, and I hope his Grace will not get the remainder.

In the character of almost all these French military leaders there are such blots and stains that one sickens at the thought of being of the same species. It would be endless to recount the acts of rapacity committed by all these engines of Imperial France; conscious that their throne might one day fall, they lost no time in amassing wealth, and pillage was the watchword from the Cathedral to the Cottage. Lisle is in the hands of the French, and by their own account the people have suffered every species of misery, yet they are strong for Napoleon, Garrison and Citizen, and I cannot find[197] that they ever vented their feelings in any other way than in nicknaming their General Maison[89] (a cruel Tyrant who destroyed all their suburbs under pretence they might be in the way in case of a siege, which might have been done in a day had the Allies ever thought of such a thing); he is in consequence called General Brise Maison, and then the foolish people laugh and cry, "Que c'est bon cela," think they have done a great feat and submit like lambs. The country from Liège to Brussels wears the same Anglicised face—hedgerows and trees without any leading features. Bruxelles is a nice town—and really it was a gratification in passing the gate to see a fat John Bull keeping guard with his red coat. The Garrison consists of about 3,000, amongst the rest a regiment of Highlanders whose dress is the marvel of the people. A French Lady who came with us from Liège had seen some and expressed her utter surprise, and as if she was speaking to one who doubted the fact, she repeated, "C'est vrai! actuellement rien qu'un petit Jupon—mais comment!" and then she lifted her eyes and hands and reiterated, "petit jupon—et comment," concluding, as if she almost doubted the evidence of her own senses, "Je les ai vus moi-même."

At Bruxelles at least we expected to see a numerous and genteel Table d'hôte, and in this hope took up our quarters at a magnificent Hotel[198] in the Place Royale—very fine indeed, and very full of English, much too full, for though we saw a few in the passages, or eyed them as they peeped out of their doors, and sat down with about 15 or 20 at table, "They spoke not, they moved not, they looked not around." By dint of asking for salt and mustard, and giving my next neighbour as much trouble as I could to show I had a tongue which I should be happy to use, we towards the 3rd Act of the Entertainment began to talk, and ascended gradually from the meats to the wines (here, it is true, there was some prolixity), and then to other subjects pretty well, though the burthen of my companion's song was that "the French were all d—— d rascals and ought to be well licked." We tried the Play; there we found a few English officers and one English lady, few of any other nation, not 50 altogether, in a house dismal and dirty. There is a delightful sort of wood and promenade called the Park....

[199]

CHAPTER V

...On leaving Bruxelles the country immediately loses its character, and becomes entirely Dutch, by which we exchange for the better, leaving dirty floors, houses, and coaches for as[200] much cleanliness as soap and water can produce; I only regret from my experience of last night that they should be so much occupied in washing as to forget that drying is also a luxury, but there is no such novelty in this country, and so much to be seen that I have no time to catch cold. Our Diligence from Bruxelles held 10 people inside and 3 in front, and we had all ample elbow room; it was large, as you may suppose, as everything else in Holland is from top to bottom. Hats, Coats, breeches, pipes, horns, cows—are all gigantic, and so are the dogs, and because the poor things happen to be so, they harness a parcel of them together and breed them up to draw fish-carts. I yesterday met a man driving four-in-hand; in turning a corner and meeting three of these open-mouthed Mastiffs panting and pulling, you might almost fancy it was Cerberus drawing the Chariot of Proserpine—but I am wandering from the Diligence, which deserves some description. It resembled a little Theatre more than a coach, with front boxes, pit, &c., lined with common velvet. We had a curious collection of passengers. Opposite to me sat a prize thoroughbred Dutch woman as clean and tidy as she was ugly and phlegmatic, with a close-plaited cap, unruffled white shawl, and golden cross suspended from her neck. I took a sketch while she stared me in the face unconscious of the honor conferred. By her side sat a French woman crowned with the lofty towers of an Oldenburg Bonnet. By my side a spruce, pretty, English[201]woman, whom I somehow or other suspected had been serving with his Britannic Majesty's troops now occupying Belgium. She had on her right hand a huge Brabanter who spoke English, and had acquired, I have no doubt, a few additional pounds of fat by living in London. Edward sat behind me in a line with the Brabanter's wife and a Dutch peasant. These, with two or three minor characters, completed our cargo, and away we went on the finest road in the world towards Antwerp between a triple row of Abeles and poplars, and skirting the bank of a fine canal upon which floated a fleet of Kuyp's barks, and by which grazed Paul Potter's oxen—the whole road was, in truth, a gallery of the Flemish school. By the door of every ale-house a living group from Teniers and Ostade, with here and there bits from Berghem and Hobbema, &c. Halfway between Bruxelles and Antwerp is Malines. I had began to fear that I had lost my powers of observation, and was, therefore, no longer struck with the external appearance of the towns—in fact, that the novelty was gone, and that my eyes were too much familiarised with such objects to notice them. Happily Malines undeceived me, and convinced me I was still fully alive to whatever had any real peculiarity of character to entitle it to notice. With the exception of the villages on the Rhine, all the towns and houses I had seen lately had little to recommend them, and were like half the people in the world, possessed of no character of their own, their doors[202] and windows like all other doors and windows, but Malines had doors and windows of its own, and seemed to take a pride in exhibiting its own little queer originalities; in every house was a different idea. The people were of a piece with their dwellings; I could almost fancy I was permitted to inspect the toys of some Brobdignag baby who washed, cleaned, and combed the beings before me every morning and locked them up in their separate boxes every evening. When the nice green doors of the nice painted houses opened, I bethought me of the Dutch ark you bought for Owen, and was prepared to make my best bow to Noah and his wife, who I expected to step forth with Ham and Japhet, and all the birds and beasts behind them.

We approached Antwerp as the sun was setting behind its beautiful Cathedral and shining upon the pennants of the fleet which Bonaparte has kindly built for the accommodation of the allied powers. The Antwerpers had a well-arranged promenade and tea garden, &c., about a mile from the house, well wooded. These, with all the houses in the suburbs, the French entirely destroyed, leaving not a wreck behind. I must acquit them of wanton cruelty here, however, as in sieges these devastations are necessary. We passed thro' a complete course of fortifications, and then entered what, from all I can perceive, is the best town I have seen on the continent.

It is a mass of fine streets, fine houses, and fine churches; the Tower of the Cathedral is quite a[203] Bijou 620 steps in height! but the ascent was well rewarded; from thence a very respectable tour of about 30 miles in every direction may be accomplished. Walcheren and Lillo (the celebrated fort which prevented our ascending the Scheld) were visible without any difficulty, with Cadsand and all the well-known names of that silly expedition,[90] rendered apparently more silly by seeing how impossible it would have been to have taken Antwerp unless by a regular siege, which might have been of endless duration; we might have bombarded the basons in which the men-of-war were deposited, and with about as much success as Sir Thos. Graham,[91] who, after expending a mint of money in bombs and powders, in the course of two days contrived to send about half a dozen shells on board the line of battleships. I was on board the Albania, which had suffered the most. The extent of her damage was two shells which passed thro' the decks, exploding without much mischief, and a round-shot which shivered a quarter gallery and then fell on the ice—indeed, bombarding vessels, which are objects so comparatively small, is something like attempting to shoot wild ducks on Radnor Mere by firing over their heads with ball in hopes that in its descent it may come in contact with the bird's head.[204]

About a dozen Gun Brigs were sunk, all of which we saw with their masts above the water; a few houses near the Bason were shattered, and about 20 Townsmen killed. The country round Antwerp is quite flat, and appears, with the exception of 2 or 3 miles round the town, a perfect wood; fancy such a wood with the Scheldt winding through it, several roads radiating in lines straight as arrows, with here and there a steeple breaking the horizontal line, and you may suppose yourself at the top of the Cathedral. The Town is large, with the river washing the whole of one side; on the south are the dockyards, with rope walks and everything in fine style; the destruction of these might have been practicable, as they are rather beyond the line of immediate fortifications, but probably they have works for their express protection, and the advantage gained must have been in proportion to the stores and vessels building. I counted 16 or 17 ships of the line on the Stocks, 2 or 3 of 120 Guns. In the Scheldt floated 13 in a state of apparent equipment; in the basons 9—all of the line—thus completing a fleet of 39 fine Ships, besides a few frigates and Gun Brigs innumerable—of these only two were Dutch.

It was curious to see such a fleet, and some of them were actually worn out, the utmost extent of whose naval career had been an expedition to Flushing. On descending the Spire, we examined the Carillons, which are a Gamut of chiming bells[205] of all sizes—the total number for them and the Church is 82; by a clock work they play every 7 minutes, so that the neighbourhood of the Cathedral is a scene of perpetual harmony; they can also be played by hand. Most of the churches in this country have them. Our Guards in marching into Alkmaar were surprised and gratified in hearing the church bells strike up "God Save the King." There are several good churches in the town, and once all were decorated with the works of Rubens, which Napoleon carried off. I should, however, be perfectly satisfied with a selection from the remainder. I saw a Vandyck on the subject of our Saviour recommending the Virgin Mary to St. John, which was incomparable; it quite haunts me at this moment, and, however horrible the effect of the bleeding figure on the Cross, I do not wish to lose the impression. The Dutch have carried the art of carving in wood to a most extraordinary pitch of perfection. I am surprised it has not been more spoken of; some of their pulpits are really quite marvellous. Religion increases and, I think, improves. There is less mummery here than at Aix and some other places I have lately seen, with the exception of a few little Saviours in powdered wigs and gilt satin and muslin frocks, and a very singular figure as large as life, supposed to represent the deposition in the holy sepulchre, which was covered by a shroud of worsted gauze, studded over with enormous artificial flowers and tinsel like a Lady's court dress.[206]

Wherever we went, at whatever hour, Mass was performing to good congregations. The women here all dress in long black shawls, or, rather, hooded wrappers, which, as they knelt before their confessional boxes, were extremely appropriate and solemn. The English have a church here for the garrison; it is simplicity itself. They have even removed several fine pictures, the rooms having been a sort of museum—the Vandyck I alluded to among the rest....

In our morning's tour we, of course, visited the celebrated basons for the men-of-war. "Still harping upon these ships," I can fancy you exclaiming; "when will he have done with them?" You must bear it patiently. It was on account of these said basons, in a great measure, that I came to Antwerp, so you must endure their birth, parentage, and education.

There are two Basons, one calculated for 16, the other for 30 sail of the line; they are simple excavations. Nature never thought of such a thing, and gave no helping hand. It was Napoleon's work from first to last; the labour and expense must have been enormous. They open by dock gates immediately into the Scheldt, from whence each ship can proceed armed and fitted cap à pie (if she dares) to fight the English. They were begun and finished in two years, but improvements were suggested, and there is no knowing what more the Emperor intended to do. Precautions had been taken during the bombardment to preserve the[207] Ships. For instance, all the decks were propped up by a number of spars, by which means if a bomb fell it did no other mischief than forcing its way through and carrying all before its immediate course, whereas without the props it might have shaken the timbers and weakened the access considerably. In every ship also were 2 cartloads of earth, to throw over any inflammable substance which might have fallen on board. From this mole hill of a truth was engendered a mountainous falsehood for home consumption. I read in the English Papers of the time that the French had scuttled their ships to the level of the water, and then covered them over with earth, which was carefully sodded!! Sir Thos. Graham's batteries were very near the basons, half-way between the village of Muxham, about 2 miles from the town and the nearest French battery. From one of the latter we had a perfect conception of the whole business. Without saying a word about my extreme partiality and fears for the safety of No. 1, and probable inconvenience which might ensue from loss of said No. 1 to Nos. 2, 3 and 4, I wonder much whether my curiosity would have allowed me to sleep quite in the back ground. The sight must from this point have been superb, as it was the intention to throw the bombs over this battery so as to make them fall in the bason amongst the ducks. The top of the Cathedral would have been perfection, but the Governor most vexatiously kept the keys....[208]

We found abundance of British troops here, remnants of all the regiments who had survived the storming of Bergen op Zoom, about 3 or 4,000.... They have no reason to complain of their quarters, though it is possible many of them may be of the same opinion with a soldier of the Guards, who, in reply to my question of "How do you like Antwerp?" said with great earnestness, "I like St. James's Park a great deal better." I observed several ladies with their "petits chapeaux," and I must do them the justice to say they are much handsomer than the French, German, or Dutch.... English Curricles, coaches, and Chariots are to be seen, and some few English horses, which are certainly better calculated for speed and pleasant driving than the heavy breed of this country. Flanders Mares—as Henry VIII. tells us by comparing his queen to one—have never been remarkable for elegance and activity, and I was much entertained in seeing an Englishman break in a couple of these for a Tandem.

...At our Table d'hôte, where we met nothing but English merchants, I heard the report of the day that Belgium was to be a sort of independent state, under the Prince of Orange's government, according to its old laws and customs, and that he was to hold a court at Bruxelles.... The Prince of Orange is now in fact gone to make his public entrance into Bruxelles....

There is a custom that the key of the town should be presented to the possessor or Governor[209] of the Town on a magnificent silver-gilt plate. When the Cossack chief came, as usual, the key was offered, which the good, simple man quietly took, put into his pocket, and forgot to return. When I saw the dish, the man told me this anecdote, and lamented wofully the loss of his key, which may possibly in future turn the lock of some dirty cupboard or other on the banks of the Don. It seems these Cossacks were immensely rich. Latterly I have been assured they could not fight had they been inclined, from the excessive height of their saddles and weight of their clothes; on the one they could scarcely sit, and with the others they could scarcely walk. They had always 3 or 4 Coats or coverings, and in the folds of these were unkennelled 1,330 Napoleons on one of them who happened to die at Bruxelles.

We quitted Antwerp after dinner yesterday for Bergen op Zoom by a new sort of conveyance; by way of variety we "voitured" it, viz., hired a carriage, driver, and horses for Breda on our way to Amsterdam. It was a nice sort of Gig Phaeton, with comfortable seats for 4, the Driver on the front bench. I fear I must retract what I said in the beginning of this letter, as to the decided change in houses and people here. It was most conspicuous about Malines, but on this road there was nothing remarkable one way or the other.

Our road was, however, Dutch throughout. Upon[210] a sort of raised dyke, between a monotonous avenue of stunted willows, did we jog gently on, with nothing to relieve the eye but here and there a windmill or a farm. On our left we saw, as far as eye could reach, the Swamp (or I scarcely know what to call it), which fills up the spaces between the Main and South Beveland, and it almost gave me the Walcheren fever to look at it. The Evening Gun of Flushing saluted the Sun as he sank to rest behind these muddy isles, and we begun to fear, as night drew on, that we should have to take up our night's lodging in the Gig, for though he knew that the gates of the Fortress were closed at 9, our sturdy Dutchman moved not a peg the faster. However, we escaped the evil, and 10 minutes before 9 we passed the drawbridge of the ditch leading to the Antwerp gate, which had been the grave of the 1st Column of Guards, led by General Cooke, on the 8th March....

Letter XIII.

Hague, August 4, 1814.

Sterne pities the man who could go from Dan to Beersheba and say that all was barren, and I must pity the man who travels from Bergen op Zoom to Amsterdam and says that Holland, with all its flatness, is not worth visiting.

Nature never abhorred a vacuum more than she herself is abhorred by these Dutchmen; here rivers run above their levels and cattle feed where fishes were by nature intended to swim. Hogarth's line of beauty is unknown in Holland. No line can be either beautiful or palatable except that which[212] (defined mathematically) is the shortest that can be drawn between two given points. But I have yet a great deal to say before I come to these roads. I left you at Bergen op Zoom, just arrived. On Sunday morning, after a little enquiry, we were glad to find there was a Protestant French Church in the town, and thither we went. I cannot say much for the sermon; it was on i Cor. vii. 20, in which a great deal of French display of vehemence and action made up in some degree for a feeble prolixity of words; in one part, however, he made an appeal, which has at least had the effect of eloquence and certainly came home to the heart. He described the miseries the country had so long endured and the happy change which had now taken place. But while he blest the change he lamented the tears which must be shed from the fatal effects of the war which produced it; and then turning to us, whom he perceived to be Englishmen, he proceeded: "It is for us to lament the sad disaster which this town was doomed to witness in the loss of our friends (our Compatriots, I may say), who shed their blood for the restoration of our liberties." After church I went into the vestry to tell him who and what I was. As an Englishman he shook me by the hand, and when he understood I was a Protestant minister he shook it again. Had he asked me to dine I should have accepted his invitation, but unluckily he lost my company by paying what he conceived to be a greater compliment. Like an Indian warrior, he offered the calumet of peace and begged I would go[213] home and smoke with him. Now, I would have gone through a good deal to have had some conversation with him, but really on one of the hottest days of July, when I was anxious, moreover, to inspect the fortification, smoking would not do, and taking our leave he sent his schoolmaster, an intelligent man who had a brother a Captain in one of our assaulting regiments, to be our guide and tell the melancholy tale.... And now let me see if I can make that clear to you which has never been made clear to anybody yet. "At 10 o'clock," said our guide, "I was at supper with a little party, some French officers being present; about half after 10 some musket shots were heard; this was no uncommon sound and we took no notice; however, it rather increased, and the French sent a sergeant to know the cause, and remained chatting quietly. In about ten minutes in burst the sergeant, 'Vite, vite, à vos portes! Les Anglais sont dans la ville.'" I need not add the party broke up in a hurry; our Guide sallied forth with the rest, and went on the Ramparts for curiosity, but whilst he was gratifying this passion, on a pitch dark night, down drops a man who stood near him, and whiz flew some bullets, upon which he took to his heels, got home, and saw no more; indeed, had he been inclined it would have been impossible, for Patrols paraded the streets and shot every one who was not a French soldier. Thus far our schoolmaster was an eye-witness; for the remainder you must trust to my account from as minute an enquiry as I could make upon the spot with Sir T. Graham's[214] dispatches in my hand, which threw very little light upon the subject.

Under the guidance of some inhabitants who had fled to the English, soon after 10 o'clock, March 8th, the ground covered with snow and ice, our troops marched in silence to their respective posts. The Guards, led by General Cooke, were to go round towards B and C, at A a false attack was to be made; another column was to force open the gates[215" at B, and the 4th column, led by Generals Skerret and Gore, proceeded by the dotted line, crossed the river up to their middle, and skirting round between the works were the first to enter the town behind some houses which fronted the Quay. Hitherto all went on well, and the object of all the Columns was to concentrate at G, but no sooner had the 4th Column gained its point (from what cause nobody knows, for I cannot conceive that the immediate loss of its two Generals was the sole cause) than all subordination seems to have been at an end, and the men, instead of going on, occupied themselves with revelling and drinking and getting warm in the houses by the Quay, and though many prisoners were taken, they were imprudently left unguarded with arms in their hands, which they very soon turned against their captors with fatal success. The doors and windows in this part of the town bore evidence of the business which for a short time was carried on. The Guards gained their point, and so did the Column at B in part, for the French were killed in great numbers on Bastion H, in fact, eleven Bastions were taken, and all before midnight; but from this period till 7 in the morning, when the affair closed, I can give you no clear account. Nobody seemed to know what was doing, all appears to have been confusion—not a gun was spiked, none were turned towards the Town. In the meantime the French were no inactive observers of what was passing; they came forward most manfully, fighting[216] hand to hand, and though I could not find out that there was the slightest reason for suspecting they were at all prepared beyond what was usual, or aware of the attack, they contrived to be instantly at the right point, and though with barely 3,000 men to defend works, the inner circle of which is at least 2 miles in circumference, and with 3,900 men attacking, they remained master of the field, killing near 400 and taking 1,500 prisoners. The French General was an elderly man who left all to his Aide de Camp. He was, in fact, the head, and has been rewarded most deservedly in the ribbon of the Legion of Honor. The French, it is supposed, lost 5 or 600 men. The number was certainly great, and they were aware of it, for they buried their dead directly, to prevent the possibility of counting. The Bergen op Zoom people say it is utterly impossible to account for the failure of the assault but on the supposition that the English were led to conclude that the French would make no resistance or that they were badly officered. I should be sorry to believe the latter, and yet I heard from good authority that many of these, instead of encouraging their men at the Water post gate, were actually busied in collecting braziers and fires to warm themselves and rest upon their arms.

It may be supposed that wading on such a night upwards of 50 yards in mud and water must have been dreadfully cold, but I can scarcely conceive that upon a service so important cold could have any influence; however, never having led an assault[217] under such circumstances I can be no judge. Were I to give my own opinion, it would be this: That the affair was entrusted to certain General officers who were unfortunately killed in the beginning of the action; that no precautions appear to have been provided against such accidents, and no remedy applied to the confusion thereby created—the Columns knew not what to do, each on gaining its point possibly waiting for orders to proceed; that the darkness increased the confusion—in short, that "the right hand knew not what the left hand did," and that the French acted with incomparable bravery and skill. It should be added that most of their troops were conscripts. It is an ugly story altogether, and I shall say no more. A sketch of the works in and near the Antwerp gate will give you some idea of the spot which has proved the grave of so many fine officers and men. At 4 o'clock we quitted the town for Breda—the greatest part of the road inexorably flat and uninteresting; but what is lost in the country is gained in the Towns, villages, and people—they are sui generis. For 3 hours did we toil through a deep sand between parallel lines of willows of the same size, shape, and dimensions; then for 3 hours more did we proceed at a foot pace over a common; this brought us to Breda just in time for the gates, through which we trotted to the usual rattle of drawbridges, chains, &c. By the bright light of the moon at night and earliest dawn of the following morning we rambled through the streets.[218] Breda was one of the last towns which got rid of its French garrison without a siege; it departed one night without beat of drum, and the Cossacks came in to breakfast, leaving the trembling inhabitants to doubt whether in escaping Scylla they were not approaching Charybdis. However, they behaved tolerably well. "Did they pillage?" said I to a Breda lady who travelled with us in the Diligence. "Oh non," she replied; "seulement quelque fois ils prenaient des choses sans payer." Thus a Cossack comes into a Shop, makes signs he wants some Cloth. The Dutchman, delighted with the idea of accommodating a new purchaser, takes down his best pieces. The Cossack looks them over, fixes on one, takes it up, pops it under his arm, and walks off, leaving the astonished vendor gaping behind his counter to meditate on the Profits of this new verbal ceremony.

After the Cossacks came the Prussians, who remained a long time and were little better than the French—they lodged in free quarters, domineered without mercy, and paid for nothing. All the Prussian officers I have seen appeared gentleman-like men, but they are nowhere popular. The English succeeded the Prussians, they were all "charmants"; then came the Dutch who were "comme ça," but then "n'importe" they were their own countrymen. I rather begin to like the Dutch women. The next day in the Diligence we had my present informant, a lively, talkative damsel of Breda, a very pretty girl of the same town who talked nothing but Dutch, and an old Lady who would have been perfect if everything had been as charming as her Dress.

[219]The Ladies are elegant and apparently well-behaved, with all the liveliness of the French. We met with no adventures till we came to a river; here a regiment of Dutch cavalry impeded our progress and luckily gave us time to get our breakfast; the next river brought us in contact with a detachment of Artillery waggons. Our Diligence consisted of a Machine with 6 seats inside, a cabriolet in which sat Edward and myself, on a little seat before us the driver with his legs dangling for want of a footboard. His patience had been rather put to the test by the cavalry, but the Artillery quite upset him, and on getting entangled amongst their train, uttering two of the French words he had learnt from his servitude under the Emperor, viz., "sacré bleu," he popped his pipe into his pocket, threw the reins into my hands, and jumped down to request the Officer's permission to pass. Under existing circumstances I confess I did not much like the responsibility of the charge committed to me, but fortunately our conductor soon returned with permission to pass. We got out while he drove his 4 in hand quietly into the boat, every cranny of which was filled up by soldiers and artillery horses, which, as if to shew off the pomp of war, capered and reared before our sedate steeds, who only wanted pipes in their mouths to rival the impenetrable gravity of their[220] driver. It is necessary to cross the Waal before you get to Gorum. When we got to the bank not a boat was to be had. With some difficulty at last our Coachman procured a miserable punt with a boy. What with our Trunks and passengers we were quite enough for it; indeed, the female part of our crew hesitated for some time; and well they might, for no sooner had we shoved from the shore than a leak was discovered which threatened serious consequences. It gained rapidly; the old Lady above mentioned was in despair, and sat with her thumb crammed over the spouting orifice the whole time, while a young man baled with his shoes as fast as possible. This was not all. The Stream carried us down, and our driver—no great sailor—caught crabs at every other pull; then we got upon a bank. Really I begun to think it would be quite as well to be safe now, but as for fear, it was out of the question, the lamentations of the women, and terrors of the old lady in particular, kept us quite in Spirits. The last event was the total overthrow of the driver by a sudden bump against the bank. Poor fellow! he was not only well drenched, but his head cut by falling against the seat of the boat in his overturn. Though every nerve vibrated with compassion, it was quite impossible to avoid laughing. Luckily a glass of vinegar well rubbed upon the wound soon set him to rights and good humor. Gorum and Naard were the last two towns which the French retained, and poor Gorum suffered sadly.[221] The Suburbs, Tea gardens, avenues, walks, &c., were all destroyed by the French to prevent the Prussians coming in, and their houses and heads knocked about with shot and shells to drive the French out. Luckily the French listened to the entreaties of the people and capitulated.

I wish they would bombard Knutsford or Macclesfield or some of our Towns for an hour or two, just to shew them what war is. Bang, whiz, down comes a shell and away goes a house. War and slavery have quite reconciled the Dutch to the abdication of Napoleon. In answer to the question, "Êtes vous content de ces changements?" you meet with no doubtful shrug of the shoulders, no ambiguous "mais que, oui"; an instantaneous extra whiff of satisfaction is puffed forth, accompanied with the synonimous terms, "Napoleon et Diable." On leaving Gorum we acquired an accession of passengers—a protestant clergyman and a fat man, who looked much like a conjurer or alchymist. A protestant clergyman in Holland may be known by his dress—a cocked hat of a peculiar model covers a lank head of unpowdered hair. Nothing white appears throughout but the pipe in his mouth and cravat round his neck, a long black coat down to his ancles, with black worsted stockings and gold-headed cane. I must say they do not look over and above agreeable, and as they hate all innovations few have learnt French, so that I have been foiled in most of my attempts at conversation.

From Gorum to Utrecht the country improves;[222] we had hitherto travelled sometimes on Dyke tops, sometimes in Dyke bottoms which only required the efforts of a few able-bodied rats to let the water in upon us. It is quite surprising to see on what a precarious tenure Holland is held. Take but a Dyke away, overturn one dam, and see what discord follows—and this does sometimes happen. In 1809 the Ice broke through near Gorum and carried away countless houses, men, cattle, &c. I have said the country improved, i.e., we got into a land of villas and Trees, some of them beautifully laid out, and all, stable included, bright and clean as possible. Each, too, has its Summer house perched by the Canal side and (the Evening being fine) well filled with parties of ladies and gentlemen. The road for many miles was ornamented with wooden triumphal arches and hung with festoons of flowers, &c., as a compliment to the Emperor Alexander, who passed about a month ago....

...We arrived at Amsterdam on Monday night; here, again, all was new. Hitherto we had rode in Carriages of various descriptions with wheels, but in Amsterdam you have them without wheels, drawn by a fine horse and driven by a man who walks by the side with his long reins....

But what delighted me more than anything else was the prospect of suiting Owen and Mary exactly. What think you of a Goat Curricle? Goats are regularly trained for draught, and are the prettiest things in the world, trotting in neat[223] harness with two or three children. I shall, if I have time at Rotterdam, see if I can get a pair. Buonaparte was so delighted with them that he ordered 4 for the King of Rome. Amsterdam is a very large, gloomy town, intersected in all directions by water, monotonous in the extreme. Had I not been convinced by the evidence of my senses in looking down from a house top on several objects I had visited in different parts of the town, I should have suspected that our Laquais de place had amused himself by walking up and down the same street where Canals with trees on each side do not keep the houses asunder; high buildings and narrow streets of dark, small brown brick constitute the character of the town, and, having seen one, you have seen the whole. In the course of my walk I heard that two or three Englishmen were settled in the town. I called on one, the Revd. Mr. Lowe, with little of the Englishman left but the language. He had been there 30 years and held a Presbyterian Church. I asked him if Napoleon troubled the English settlers during the war. He said that, provided they conformed quickly to the laws and regulations, they experienced no persecution. Upon my asking if it was at all necessary to conceal his extraction, he exclaimed, "What, conceal my extraction, deny my country? Not for all the Emperors in the world. No, I have too much conscience and independence. To be sure, I was obliged by law to pray for the health and prosperity of Buonaparte every Sunday. But what signified[224] that? God Almighty understood very well what I meant, and that I heartily wished his death all the time." By long residence in Holland, he had adopted a good portion of Dutch impenetrability and slowness. He assured us nothing short of a week could give us the least chance of seeing the curiosities of Amsterdam, and when I told him that we were (according to our common custom of early rising) to be in North Holland by 6 o'clock in the morning, and had seen all by 11 o'clock which occupies a Dutchman's whole day, and gave him a few instances of our mode of operation, he threw himself back, raised his cocked hat to examine us more thoroughly, put his arms akimbo and exclaimed, "How do you support human nature. It must expire under such fatigue," and I found it quite impossible to convince him that my health for the last month had been infinitely better than usual. But, after all, I fear you will find me growing old. I had a compliment paid to my grey hairs, in coming from Utrecht, which must be mentioned. The fat Alchymist, above mentioned, squeezed himself into Edward's place in the Diligence; on remonstrating to a young Dutch gentleman who spoke French, he replied, "Que c'était vraiment impoli mais que c'était un viellard à qui on devait céder quelque chose, et je vous assure, Monsieur, comme vous êtes aussi un peu agé si vous aviez pris ma place je vous l'aurais cédé." In Amsterdam there is little to be seen but the Palais, in which there is a splendid collection of Flemish[225] pictures—two or three of the finest of Rembrandt—and without exception the most splendid room I have seen in Europe. It is the great Hall of audience; King Louis[92] has fitted up everything in grand style. We went over what the Dutchmen cry up as an object which it would be unpardonable not to see—the Felix meritus, a sort of Lecture room with some wretched museums attached. I found nothing to interest me but a capital figure of a Dutchman, who came also to see the wonders. Nothing could exceed his attitudes as he looked with an eye of incredulity whilst they explained a planetarium, examined with an air of conscious safety a snake corked up in a bottle, and ogled with terror a skeleton which grinned at him out of his case. I walked round and tried his perspective in all directions, and rather blushed when, with treacherous condescension, I requested him to use my Glass that I might see how he looked peeping thro' a Telescope. This is such a Museum as will furnish me with samples of oddities for the rest of my life.

Letter XIV.

August 6, 1814.

Luckily we have a commodious cabin in the Trechschuyt, and no smoke or other intruders, so where I finished my last I will begin another.