CHAPTER XXVI.

Field of Waterloo.

Ah! then and there was hurrying to and fro,
And gathering tears and tremblings of distress,
And cheeks all pale, which but an hour ago
Blushed at the praise of their own loveliness;
And sudden partings, such as press

The life from out young hearts, and choking sighs
Which ne'er might be repeated !"

THE morning of June 23d, found me in "Belgium's Capital." Standing upon the steps of the "Hotel de Flanders," I was startled by bugle sounds to the notes of "O Susanna," when round the corner dashed the coach-andfour which was to convey me to Waterloo. Strange sounds these, thought I, in such a place and yet not unwelcome, for they reminded me of a land dear to my heart as the home of many a loved friend and the honored among all nations for liberty of thought, speech and religion. Taking my seat on the top of the coach, with three truly pleasant companions, in a Scotch baronet, his lady and daughter, (Sir William Johnson, of Kirkville, Edinburgh), a drive of two hours through the forest of Soignies brought us to an inn, when we were introduced to Sergeant S., an intelligent guide. After a short walk we stopped, and the Sergeant began, "We are now, gentlemen and ladies, on the field of Waterloo, where was fought the most sanguinary, important and memorable battle of modern times-a battle in which I myself took an active part, and was carried from the field more dead than alive-a battle in which I saw an

Introduction to the Field.

amount of suffering which I pray God that I may never again witness"—to which he might have added, in the language of a recent historian," upon this fatal spot, in future ages to be more renowned than was Thermopyla's gorge or Platea's plane, the world saw humbled forever the Imperial Soldier of the Age. It was a mighty struggle, this of Waterloo! The two greatest warriors of modern times here measured swords, and Europe was the spectator of the combat." With this introduction, to which we listened with patient respect, our mentor bid us take a general survey of the field-to observe the direction and intersection of the various roads-the places where the forces were stationed at the commencement of the day-the localities where the battle raged with greatest fury and most fearful destruction of life-the spots where Picton and Campbell fell to rise no more—the garden and orchard-the chateau of Hougoumont, and the point of last attack which brought down upon Marshal Ney and the Imperial Guards an array of indomitable soldiery, that drove from the field of conflict and eventually from Europe and the world, one

"Whose game was empire and whose stakes were thrones,
Whose table, earth-whose dice were human bones."

I have no intention of inflicting upon my reader a description of this thrice-told tale of Waterloo. A few sentences will embody all now to be penned.

The fitness of the place for such an engagement has been the subject of frequent remark by travelers, and is at once noticable. Running for a considerable distance through the vast field, is a depression of ground, amounting almost to a ravine, to hold which was deemed of highest importance, as

Orchard.

Chateau.

Image.

the soldiers could lie down in safety and allow the shot to pass over them. This was early discovered by the English General, and much to his advantage he retained this favored spot during the entire day. The orchard was next in importance, as it was surrounded by a wall that formed a defence against all ordinary attacks. Behind this breastwork, were stationed the British forces, who had during the previous night pierced the wall with holes large enough to allow muskets to be thrust through. Of this arrangement the French commander was not aware, and therefore marched up his forces with all confidence, when a shower of missiles from the hidden musketmen sent them reeling backward, causing multitudes to "sleep the sleep that knows no waking." The house of the Hougoumont still stands, bearing marks of the fierce cannonading which it experienced. We went into the small adjoining chapel, seeing, over the door, suspended against the wall, an image of the Virgin, with her toes burned off, the fire having stopped its ravages the moment it saw upon whom it was preying. Near by was the place where stood the building which when filled with the wounded and dying, was burned to the ground, (an event unequaled for its horror among the catastrophes of the day). We then walked to the spot where occurred the world-famed attack and repulse which won the day for Britain and for truth. Upon one side of a wide road, the ground was depressed, affording a concealment and shelter for the English Horse Guards, while upon the opposite side, was stationed a small artillery force, under Col. C. Marshal Ney received orders to carry that spot with the Imperial Guards, being entirely ignorant of what was in the rear. The English Commander-in-chief saw the movement, and

Last Attack.

Victor.

knew that the fate of the day was now to be decided, for it was "Greek meet Greek," when the trained and hitherto indomitable Guards closed in combat. With several of his officers, Wellington rode up and down the road in front of his ambushed force, ever exhorting them to be quiet and await his call. Five horses were shot under him, as still the French Marshal moved on-the artillery keeping their ground with superhuman courage, until when within fifteen paces of the road, Wellington uttered those memorable words, "Up, Guards, and at them," when the concealed brigade sprang to their feet and with the artillery in the center and infantry on the left, came down upon the foe with a cool deliberation and precision of aim, which made nearly the whole of the advancing ranks stagger under the unexpected and tremendous volley of cannon and shot, and in less than one minute of time three hundred of Napoleon's brave old warriors fell, to rise no more. This masterly movement won the day for the allies! Upon which side the superior generalship lay, and what would have been the result had not Blucher arrived with his Prussian ranks, and whether there was not an unnecessary amount of loss of life, are questions respecting which there will ever be differences of opinion. It is enough to say that Providence so directed the various incidents that Wellington was victor, and the conqueror of Italy, Prussia, and Spain, saw his sun set in unrelieved darkness. The English historians in their descriptions of this engagement may have distorted facts to glorify their own greatness and justify the almost idolatrous oration paid to the iron duke. It were a trite remark to say, that there is no modern personage respecting whom greater diversity of opinion prevails than Napoleon I. For

Opinions of Napoleon.

Reflections.

illustration, we hear Dr. M. declare that "the defeat of Napoleon at Waterloo was the triumph of despotism over freedom—of divine right over the rights of the people;" in a word, that he was a man "more sinned against than sinning"-whereas our Secretary of State styles him "the desolater desolate, left of Providence to eat out his own heart on the rock of Helena." As often holds-" verum in medio."

The green grass now waves upon the field which upon the 18th of June, 1815, was red with the gore of seventy thousand brave men who fell in that mortal strife; save the statue of the English lion surmounting the lofty mound which marks the place where the Duke of Cambridge was wounded, and a few monuments which affection has reared to departed greatness, nothing remains to indicate the special importance of the spot, and yet the day is far distant when the foreign tourist will pass near and not pause to traverse the first among the battle-fields of the current agethe field of Waterloo. But to the thoughtful traveler, what spot more suggestive of mournful reflections than this! Few sights have more to attract the admiration of beholders than tastefully arrayed and well trained military regiments. Dress, tread, manœuvre, music, have in them very much to command the delighted attention of all who find pleasure in order and beauty. The aesthetic principles of our nature are gratified at witnessing the well-disciplined foot-treads-rapid yet perfect evolutions-flying banners— and martial strains-and all may do on a gala day and as an exhibition of what skill in command and exactness in obedience can effect. But let real warfare take the place of the painted images seen on a parade, or at a review-let the