* * *

No measure was omitted by Napoleon to secure, the services, in the army, of all who could be of any use in it. The organization of the garde d'honneur was intended to include as large a number as possible of the young men, whose circumstances had enabled them to avoid the conscription. No act of the Imperial Government seemed to have given more general offence in France than the formation of this corps, the number of which was stated to have amounted at one time to 10,000. They were, in the first instance, invited to volunteer, under the assurance that they were to be employed as a guard for Maria Louisa, and under no circumstances to be sent across the Rhine. A maximum and minimum number were fixed for each arrondissement, some number between which was to be made up by voluntary enrolments; but when any deficiency was discovered, as for example in Holland, where the young men were very little disposed to voluntary service in the French army, a balloting immediately took place, and a number greater than the maximum was compelled to come forward. Exemption from this service was impossible; immense sums were offered and refused. They were all mounted, armed, and clothed at their own expense; those who did not chuse to march, were sent off under an escort of gens-d'armes; and all were conducted to the fortresses on the Rhine, were they were regularly drilled. Some of them were induced to volunteer for extended service, by a promise, that after serving one campaign, they should be made officers; and in the course of the campaign of 1813, all of them were brought up to join the army; and these young men, taken only a few weeks before from their families, where many of them had been accustomed to every luxury and indulgence, were compelled to go through all the duties and fatigues of common hussars. Some regiments of them, which were very early brought into action, having misconducted themselves, were immediately disbanded; their horses, arms, and uniforms, were taken from them for the use of the other troops, and they were dismissed, to find the best of their way to their homes. Those who remained were distributed among the different corps of cavalry, and suffered very severely in the campaign in France. We spoke to some of them at Paris, who said they had bivouacked, at one period of the campaign, on snow, fourteen nights successively, and described to us the action at Rheims, one of the last that was fought, where half of their regiment were left on the field. These men complained loudly of the treacherous conduct of Napoleon to them and their brethren of the same corps; yet they expressed their willingness to undergo all their sufferings again, if they could thereby transfer the date of the peace to the other side of the Rhine.

The effect of this measure on the middling and higher ranks was not more oppressive than that of the conscription on the lower ranks, and even on persons in tolerably good circumstances; for we have heard of L.400 Sterling, being twice paid to rescue an individual, whom a third conscription had at length torn from his family. The impression produced in France, however, by either of these measures, cannot be judged of from a comparison with the feelings so often manifested in this country, under circumstances of less aggravated affliction. The same careless, unthinking, constitutional cheerfulness, which is so commendable in those Frenchmen whose sufferings are all personal, displays itself in a darker point of view, when they are called on to sympathise with the sufferings of their friends. It is a disposition, allied indeed to magnanimity on the one hand, but to selfishness on the other. The sufferings of the French on such an occasion as the loss of a near relation, may be acute; but they are of very short duration. In Paris, mourning is at present hardly ever worn. At the time when we were there, although a bloody campaign had only recently been concluded, we did not see above five or six persons in mourning, and even these were not certainly French. We understood it to be a principle all over France, never to wear mourning for a son; but whether this was adopted in compliance with the wishes of Napoleon, as was stated by some, or was general before his time, as others maintained, we were not sufficiently informed.

* * *

It may be a question, whether the real, as well as professed motive of the policy of Napoleon, while he directed the affairs of France, was some ill-conceived and absurd idea of the superior happiness and prosperity which France might enjoy, if placed indisputably at the head of the civilized world, and especially if elevated above the rivalship of England; but if the good of France was really his end, it is quite certain that it engaged very little of his attention, and that he occupied himself almost exclusively with regard to the means which he held to be necessary to its attainment. The causes of the wars in which he engaged were of little importance to him; but the immediate object of all of them was the glory and aggrandizement of France; and to this object his whole soul was devoted, and all the energies of the state were directed.

In a general view, the imperial government may be said to have rested on the following foundations.

In the first place, it rested on the principle which was universally acted on, of giving active employment, and animating encouragement, to all men of talents or enterprise—to all whose friendship might be useful, or whose enmity might be dangerous. The conscription carried off the flower of the youthful population; parents were encouraged to send their children; if they shewed any superior abilities, to the military schools, whence they were rapidly promoted in the army. The formation of the garde d'honneur effectually prevented all danger from a numerous class of men, whose circumstances might have enabled them to exert themselves in opposing public measures. In the civil administration of the country, it was the system of Napoleon, from the beginning of his career, to give employment to all who might be dangerous, if their services were not secured. The prefects of towns and arrondissements, were generally men of intelligence and information regarding the characters of the inhabitants; and the persons recommended by them to the immense number of situations in the police, in the collection of taxes, &c. were always men of activity, enterprise, and ability: Birth, education, and moral character, were altogether disregarded, and religious principle was rather considered a fault than a recommendation.

The consequence was, that the young, the bold, the active, the enterprising, the independent, were either attached to the imperial government, or at least prevented from exerting themselves in opposition to it; while those whom family cares, or laborious occupations, or habits of indolence, or want of energy of mind, rendered unfit for resistance to any government, were the only people whose interest it was to resist that of Napoleon.

In the next place, while much was done by these means to secure the support of the most important part of the nation to the imperial government, the most effectual precautions were taken to prevent danger to it, from those whom either principle might lead, or injuries might provoke to disaffection. The police was everywhere so powerful, and the system of espionage so universally extended, that it was almost impossible for different individuals to combine against the government. Without including the hosts of douaniers, who were under the orders of the collectors of taxes, the gens d'armerie, who were at the disposal of the police, and had no other duties to perform, amounted to above 10,000 men, cavalry and infantry, all completely armed and equipped. As soon, therefore, as any individual excited suspicion, there was no difficulty as to his apprehension. The number of police officers was very great, and they were all low born, clever, unprincipled men, perfectly fitted for their situations. The extent and accuracy of the information possessed by them was almost incredible. Indeed, we regard the system of espionage, by which this information was procured, as the most complete and damning proof of the general selfishness and immorality of the French people, of which we have received any account. It was not merely that a number of persons were employed by the police as spies; but that no man could put any confidence even in his best friends and nearest relations. The very essence of the system was the destruction of all confidence between man and man; and its success was such, that no man could venture to express any sentiments hostile to the government, even in the retirement of his own family circle. That sacred sanctuary was every where invaded, not by the strong hand of power, but by the secret machinations of bribery and intrigue.

We were particularly informed, with respect to the establishment of the police in Amsterdam, where the sentiments of the people being known to be averse to French dominion, it was of course made stronger than in less suspicious parts of the country. Within a week after the annexation of Holland to France, the police was in full force, and the spies every where in motion. No servant was allowed to engage himself who had not a certificate from the police, implying his being a spy on his master. At the tables d'hote, persons were placed to encourage seditious conversation, and those who expressed themselves strongly, were soon after seized and committed to prison. No person could leave Amsterdam, even to go three miles into the country, without a passport from the police, which was granted only to whom they pleased. When a party went out on such an excursion, they were sure to be met by some of the gens d'armerie, who already knew their names and destination, and who fixed the time of their return. From the decisions of the police there was no appeal; and those who were imprisoned by them, (as so many of the inhabitants of Amsterdam were, that it ceased to be any reproach,) had no method of bringing on a trial, or even of ascertaining the crimes of which they were accused. Frequently individuals were transported from one part of the country to another, without any reason being assigned, and set down among strangers, to make their bread as they best could, under the inspection of the police, who instantly arrested them on their attempting to escape. This system was probably more strictly enforced in Holland than over the greater part of France, but its most essential parts were every where the same, and the information, with respect to the private characters and sentiments of individuals, was certainly more easily obtained in France than in Holland.

Such, according to the information of the most intelligent and best informed persons with whom we had an opportunity of conversing, were the principal means by which the power of Napoleon was maintained, and his authority enforced. But it must be owned that he did more than this,—that during the greater part of his reign, he not only commanded the obedience, but obtained the admiration and esteem of the majority of his subjects.

In looking for the causes of this, we shall in vain attempt to discover them in real benefits conferred on France by Napoleon. It is true, that agriculture made some progress during his reign, but this was decidedly owing to the transference of the landed property from nobles and churchmen, to persons really interested in the cultivation of the soil, which had taken place before his time, and not to the empty and ostentatious patronage which he bestowed on it; the best proof of which is, that the main improvement that has taken place has not been, as already observed, in the principles or practice of agriculture, but in the quantity of land under tillage. It is true also, that certain manufactures have been encouraged by the exclusion of the English goods; but this partial increase of wealth was certainly not worth the expense of a year's war, and was heavily counterbalanced by the distress occasioned by his tyrannical decrees in the commercial towns of France, and of the countries which were subjected to her control.

As a single instance of this distress, we may just notice the situation of the city of Amsterdam during the time that Holland was incorporated with France. Out of 200,000 inhabitants of that city, more than one half, during the whole of that time, were absolutely deprived of the means of subsistence, and lived merely on the charity of the remainder, who were, for the most part, unable to engage in any profitable business, all foreign commerce being at an end, and supported themselves therefore on the capital which they had previously acquired; and, lest that capital should escape, two-thirds of the national debt of Holland were struck off by a single decree of Napoleon. The population of the town fell off about 20,000 during the time of its connection with France; the taxes, while the two countries were incorporated, were enormous; the income-tax, which was independent of the droits reunis, or assessed taxes, having been stated to us at one-fifth of every man's income. It was during the pressure of these burdens that the tremendous system of police which we have described was enforced; and to add to the miseries of the unfortunate inhabitants of this and the other commercial towns of Holland, they were not allowed to manifest their sufferings. Every man who possessed or inhabited a house was compelled to keep it in perfect repair; so that even at the time of their liberation, these towns bore no external mark of poverty or decay. The consequence of that decree, however, had been, that persons possessing houses at first lowered their rents, then asked no rents at all; happy to get them off their hands, and throw on the tenants the burden of paying taxes for them and keeping them in repair; and lastly, in many instances, offered sums of money to bribe others to live in their houses, or even accept the property of them.

The taxes of France, under Napoleon, it would have been supposed, were alone sufficient to exasperate the people against them. They were oppressive, not merely from their amount, but especially from the arbitrary power which was granted to the prefects of towns and arrondissements, and their agents, in collecting them. A certain sum was directed to be levied in each district, and the apportioning of this burden on the different inhabitants was left almost entirely to the discretion of these officers.

It is quite obvious, therefore, as we already hinted; that the popularity of Napoleon in France, during at least the greater part of his reign; can be traced to no other source than the national vanity of the French. As they are more fond of shew than of comfort in private life, so their public affections are more easily won by gaudy decorations than by substantial benefits. Napoleon gave them enough of the former; they had victories abroad and spectacles at home—their capital was embellished—their country was aggrandised—their glory was exalted; and if he had continued successful, France would still have continued to applaud and admire him, while she had sons to swell her armies, and daughters to drudge in her fields.

As it was not Napoleon who made the French a military and ambitious people, so it is not his fall alone that can secure the world against the effects of their military and ambitious spirit. It is not merely the removal of him who has so long guided it, but the extinction of the spirit itself that is necessary. The effect of the late events on the active part of the population of France, cannot be accurately judged of in the present moment of irritation and disorder; but whatever government that country may ultimately assume, it may surely be hoped that their experience of unsuccessful and calamitous war has been sufficient to incline them to peace; that they will learn to measure their national glory by a better standard than mere victory or noise; that they will reflect on the true objects, both of political and military institutions, and acknowledge the happiness of the people they govern to be the supreme law of kings, and the blessings of the country they serve to be the best reward of soldiers.



CHAPTER IX.

JOURNEY TO FLANDERS.

When we left Paris, we took the road to Soissons and Laon, with a view to see the seat of war during the previous campaign, and examine the interesting country of Flanders. After passing the village of La Villette, and the heights of Belleville, the country becomes flat and uninteresting, and is distinguished by those features which characterise almost all the level agricultural districts of France. The road, which is of great breadth, and paved in the centre, runs through a continued plain, in which, as far as the eye can reach, nothing is to be discerned but a vast expanse of corn fields, varied at intervals by fallows, and small tracts of lucerne and sainfoin. No inclosures are to be met with; few woods are seen to vary the uniformity of the view; and the level surface of the ground is only broken at intervals by the long rows of fruit-trees, which intersect the country in different directions, or the tall avenues of elms between which the chaussees are placed.

These elm trees would give a magnificent appearance to the roads, both from their age and the immense length during which they fringe its sides, were it not that they are uniformly clipt to the very top, for firewood, by the peasantry, and that all their natural beauty is in consequence destroyed. The elm, indeed, pushes out its shoots to replace the branches which have been destroyed, and fringes the lofty stem with a cluster of foliage; but as soon as these young branches have become large, they too are in their turn sacrificed to the same purpose. When seen from a distance, accordingly, these trees resemble tall May-poles with tufts at their tops, and are hardly to be distinguished from the Lombardy poplars, which, in many parts of the country, line the sides of the principal roads.

One most remarkable circumstance in the agricultural districts of France, is here to be seen in its full extent. The people do not dwell in detached cottages, placed in the centre of their farms or their properties, as in all parts of England; they live together in aged villages or boroughs, often at the distance of two or three miles from the place of their labour, and wholly separated from the farms which they are employed in cultivating. It is no uncommon thing accordingly, to see a farmer leaving a little town in the morning with his ploughs and horses, to go to his piece of ground, which lies many miles from the place of his residence.

This circumstance, which exists more or less in every part of France, is characteristic of the state in which the people were placed in those remote periods, when their habits of life were originally formed. It indicates that popular degradation and public insecurity, when the poor were compelled to unite themselves in villages or towns for protection from the banditti, whom the government was unable to restrain, or from the more desolating oppression of feudal power. In every country of Europe, in which the feudal tyranny long subsisted; in Spain, in France, in Poland, and in Hungary, this custom has prevailed to a certain extent, and the remains of it are still to be seen in the remoter parts of Scotland. It is in countries alone whose freedom has long subsisted; in Switzerland, in Flanders, and in England, that no traces of its effects are to be discerned in the manners and the condition of the peasantry; that the enjoyment of individual security has enabled the poor to spread themselves in fearless confidence over the country; and that the traveller, in admiring the union of natural beauty with general prosperity, which the appearance of the country exhibits, blesses that government, by the influence of whose equal laws that delightful union has been effected.

In the neighbourhood of Paris, and in those situations which are favourable for vineyard or garden cultivation, this circumstance gives a very singular aspect to the face of the country. As far as the eye can reach, the sloping banks, or rising swells, are cultivated with the utmost care, and intersected by little paths, which wind through the gardens, or among the vineyards, in the most beautiful manner; yet no traces of human habitation are to be discerned, by whose labour, or for whose use, this admirable cultivation has been conducted. The labourers, or proprietors of these gardens, dwell at the distance of miles, in antiquated villages, which resemble the old boroughs which are now wearing out in the improved parts of Scotland. In the greater part of France, the people dwell in this manner, in crowded villages, while the open country, every where cultivated, is but seldom inhabited. The superiority, accordingly, in the beauty of those districts, where the cottages are sprinkled over the country, and surrounded by fruit-trees, is greater than can well be imagined: and it is owing to this circumstance that Picardy, Artois, and Normandy, exhibit so much more pleasing an appearance, than most of the other provinces of France.

In the district between Paris and Soissons, as in almost every other part of the country, the land is now in the hands of the peasantry, who became proprietors of it during the struggles of the revolution. We had every where occasion to observe the extreme industry with which the people conduct their cultivation, and perceived numerous instances of the truth of Mr Young's observation, "that there is no such instigator to severe and incessant labour, as the minute subdivision of landed property." But though their industry was uniformly in the highest degree laudable, yet we could not help deploring the ignorant and unskilful manner in which this industry is directed. The cultivation is still carried on after the miserable rotation which so justly excited the indignation of Mr Young previous to the commencement of the revolution. Wheat, barley or oats, sainfoin, lucerne or clover, and fallow, form the universal rotation. The green crops are uniformly cut, and carried into the house for the cattle; as there are no inclosures, there is no such thing as pasturage in the fields; and, except once on the banks of the Oise, we never saw cattle pasturing in those parts of France. The small quantity of lucerne and sainfoin, moreover, shews that there are but few herds in this part of France, and that meat, butter, or cheese, form but a small part of the food of the peasantry. Normandy, in fact, is the only pasture district of France, and the produce of the dairy there is principally intended for the markets of Paris.

The soil is apparently excellent the whole way, composed of a loam in some places, mixed with clay and sand, and extremely easily worked. Miserable fallows are often seen, on which the sheep pick up a wretched subsistence—their lean sides and meagre limbs exhibit the effects of the scanty food which they are able to obtain. The ploughing to us appeared excellent; but we were unable to determine whether this was to be imputed to the skilfulness of the labourer, or the light friable nature of the soil.

The property of the peasantry is not surrounded by any enclosures, nor are there any visible marks whereby their separate boundaries could be determined by the eye of a stranger. The plain exhibits one unbroken surface of corn or vineyards, and appears as if it all formed a part of one boundless property. The vast expanse, however, is in fact subdivided into an infinite number of small estates, the proprietors of which dwell in the aged boroughs through which the road occasionally passes, and the extremities of which are marked by great stones fixed on their ends, which are concealed from a passenger by the luxuriant corn in which they are enveloped. This description applies to the grain districts in almost every part of France.

Although the condition of the peasantry has been greatly ameliorated, in consequence of the division of landed property since the revolution, yet their increased wealth has not yet had any influence on the state of their habitations, or the general comfort of their dwellings. This rises from the nature of the contributions to which they were subjected during the despotic governments which succeeded the first years of the revolution. These contributions were levied by the governors of districts in the most arbitrary manner. The arrondissement was assessed at a certain sum by the government, or a certain contribution for the support of the war was imposed; and the sum was proportioned out among the different inhabitants, according to the discretion of the collector. Any appearance of comfort, accordingly, among the peasantry, was immediately followed by an increased contribution, and heavier taxes; and hence the people never ventured to make any display of their increased wealth in their dwellings, or in any article of their expenditure, which might attract, the notice of the collectors of the imperial revenue. The burdens to which they were subjected, moreover, especially during the last years of the war, were extremely severe, arising both from the enormous sums requisite to save their sons from the conscription, and the heavy unequal contributions to which they were subjected.

From these causes, the division of landed property has not yet produced that striking amelioration in the habits and present comfort of the peasantry, which generally attend this important measure; and their wealth is rather hoarded up, after the eastern custom, for future, emergencies or spent in the support of an early marriage; and never lavished in the fearless enjoyment of present opulence.

In some respects, however, their appearance evidently bears the mark of the improvement in their situation. Their dress is upon the whole neat and comfortable, covered in general by a species of smock frock of a light blue colour, and exhibiting none of that miserable appearance which Mr Young described as characterising the labouring classes during his time. They evidently had the aspect of being well fed, and both in their figures and dress, afforded a striking contrast to the wretched and decrepid inhabitants of the towns, in whom the real poverty of the people, under the old regime, was still perceptible. In some of these towns, the appearance of the beggars, their extraordinary figures, and tattered dress, exhibited a spectacle which would have been inconceivably ludicrous, were it not for the melancholy ideas of abject poverty which it necessarily conveyed.

About twenty miles from Soissons, the road passes through the magnificent forest of Villars Coterets, which, in the luxuriance and extent of its woods, rivals the forest of Fontainbleau. The place on which it stands is varied by rising grounds, and the distance exhibits beautiful vistas of forest scenery and gentle swells, adorned by rich and varied foliage. It wants, however, those grand and striking features, that mixture of rock and wood, of forest gloom and savage scenery, which give so unrivalled a charm to the forest of Fontainbleau.

From Villars Coterets, the road lies over a high plateau, covered with grain, and exhibiting more than ordinary barrenness and desolation. After passing over this dreary track, you arrive at the edge of a steep declivity, which shelves down to the valley in which the Aisne wanders. The appearance of this valley is extremely beautiful. It is sheltered by high ridges, or sloping hills, covered with vineyards, orchards, and luxuriant woods: the little plain is studded with villas and neat cottages, embosomed in trees, or surrounded by green meadows, in which the winding course of the Aisne can at intervals be discerned. When we reached this spot, the sun had newly risen; his level rays illuminated the white cottages with which the valley is sprinkled, or glittered on the stream which winded through its plain; while the Gothic towers of Soissons threw a long shadow over the green fields which surrounded its walls. It reminded us of those lines in Thomson, in which the effect of the morning light is so beautifully described:

"Lo, now apparent all, Aslant the dew-bright earth and coloured air, He looks in boundless majesty abroad, And sheds the shining day, that burnished plays On rocks, and hills, and towers, and wandering streams, High gleaming from afar."

The descent to Soissons is through a declivity adorned by thriving gardens and neat cottages, detached from each other, which afforded a pleasing contrast to the solitary, uninhabited, though cultivated plains through which our route had previously lain. The Fauxbourgs of the town were wholly in ruins, having been totally destroyed in the three assaults which they had sustained during the previous campaign. The town itself is small, surrounded by decayed fortifications, and containing nothing of note, except the Gothic spires, which bear testimony to its antiquity.

On leaving Soissons on the road to Laon, you go for two miles through the level plain in which the town is situated; after which you begin to ascend the steep ridge by which its eastern boundary is formed. It was on the summit of this ridge that Marshal Blucher's army was drawn up, 80,000 strong, at the time when a detachment of his troops, under Count Langeron, was defending Soissons against the French army. Immediately below this position, there is placed a small village, which bore the marks of desperate fighting; all the houses were unroofed or shattered in every part by musket balls; and many seemed to have been burnt during the struggles of which it was formerly the theatre. There is an old castle a little higher up the ascent, which was garrisoned by the allied troops; in the neighbourhood of which, we perceived numerous traces of the immense bivouacs which had been made round its walls; particularly the bodies of horses and oxen, which the Russians had left on the ground, and which the peasants had taken no pains to remove.

From thence the road runs over a high level plateau, covered with miserable corn, or worse fallows, and having an aspect of sterility very different from what we were accustomed to in the rich provinces of France. In the midst of this dreary country, we beheld with delight several deep ravines, formed by streams which fall into the Aisne, sheltered from the chilling blasts that sweep along the high plains by which they are surrounded, the steep sides of which were clothed with luxuriant woods, and in the bottom of which are placed many little farms and cottages, which exhibited a perfect picture of rural beauty. Even here, however, the terrible effects of war were clearly visible; these sequestered spots had been ravaged by the hostile armies; and the ruined walls of the peasants dwellings presented a melancholy spectacle in the midst of the profusion of beauty with which they were surrounded.

Half way between Soissons and Laon, is placed a solitary inn, at which Bonaparte stopt six hours, after the disastrous termination of the battle of Laon. The people informed us, that during this time, he was in a state of great agitation, wrote many different orders, which he destroyed as fast as they were done, and covered the floor with the fragments of his writing. Many Cossacks and Bashkirs had been quartered in this inn; the people, as usual, would not allow them any good qualities, but often repeated, with evident chagrin—"Ils mangent comme des diables; ils ont mange tous les poulets."

The features of the country continue with little variety, till you begin to descend from the high plateau, over which the road has passed into the wooded valley, in the centre of which the hill and town of Laon are placed. The dreary aspect of this plateau, which, though cultivated in every part, exhibited few traces of human habitation, was enlivened occasionally by herds of pigs, of a lean and meagre breed, (followed by shepherds of the most grotesque appearance,) wandering over the bare fallows, and seemingly reduced to the necessity of feeding on their mother earth.

At the distance of six miles from Laon, the descent begins to the plain below, down the side of a deep ravine, beautifully clothed with woods and vineyards. On the other side of this ravine lies the plateau on which the battle of Craon was fought, whose level desolate surface seemed a fit theatre for the struggle that was there maintained. At the bottom of the ravine the road passes a long line of villages, surrounded with wood and gardens, which had been wholly ruined by the operations of the armies; and among the neighbouring woods we were shewn numerous graves both of French and Russian soldiers.

The approach to Laon lies through a great morass, covered in different places with low brushwood, and intersected only by the narrow chaussee on which the road is laid. The appearance of the town is very striking; standing on a hill in the centre of a plain of 10 or 12 miles in diameter, bounded on all sides by steep and wooded ridges. It is surrounded by an old wall, and some decayed towers, and is adorned by some fine Gothic spires, whose apparent magnitude is much increased by the elevated station on which they are placed.

In crossing this chaussee, we were immediately struck with the extraordinary policy of Bonaparte, in attacking the Russian army posted on the heights of Laon, where his only retreat was by the narrow road we were traversing, which for several miles, ran through a morass, impassible for carriages or artillery. This appeared the more wonderful, as the army he was attacking was more numerous than his own, composed of admirable troops, and posted in a position where little hopes of success could be entertained. It was an error of the same kind as he committed at Leipsic, when he gave battle to the allied armies with a single bridge and a long defile in his rear. It is laid down as one of the first maxims of war, by Frederic the Great, "never to fight an enemy with a bridge or defile in your rear: as if you are defeated, the ruin of the army must ensue in the confusion which the narrowness of the retreat creates." We cannot suppose so great a general as Bonaparte to have been ignorant of so established a principle, or a rule which common sense appears so obviously to dictate; it is more probable, that in the confidence which the long habit of success had occasioned, he never contemplated the possibility of a defeat, nor took any measures whatever for ensuring the safety of his army in the event of a retreat. Be this as it may, it is certain that he fought at Laon with a morass, crossed by a single chaussee, in his rear, and that if he had been totally defeated, instead of being repulsed in the action which then took place, his army must have been irretrievably ruined, in the narrow line over which their retreat was of necessity conducted.

At the foot of the hill of Laon is placed a small village named Semilly, in which a desperate conflict had evidently been maintained. The trees were riddled with the cannon-shot; the walls were pierced for the fire of infantry, and the houses all in ruins, from the showers of balls to which they had been exposed. The steep declivity of the hill itself was covered with gardens and vineyards, in which the allied army had been posted during the continuance of the conflict; but though three months had not elapsed since the period when they were filled with hostile troops, no traces of desolation were to be seen, nor any thing which could indicate the occurrence of any extraordinary events. The vines grew in the utmost luxuriance on the spot where columns of infantry had so recently stood, and the garden cultivation appeared in all its neatness, on the very ground which had been lately traversed by all the apparatus of modern warfare. It would have been impossible for any one to have conceived, that the destruction they occasioned could so soon have been repaired; or that the powers of Nature, in that genial climate, could so rapidly have effaced all traces of the desolation which marked the track of human ambition.

The town of Laon itself contains little worthy of note; but the view from its ramparts, though not extensive, was one of the most pleasing which we had seen in France. The little plain with which the town is surrounded, is varied with woods, corn fields, and vineyards; the view is closed on every side by a ridge of hills, which form a circular boundary round its farthest extremity, while the foreground is finely marked by the decaying towers of the fortress, or the dark foliage which shades its ramparts.

We walked over the field of battle with a degree of interest, which nothing but the memorable operations of which it had formerly been the theatre, could possibly have excited. The accounts of the action, which we received from the inhabitants of the town, and peasantry in its vicinity, agreed perfectly with the official details which we had previously read; and although we could not give an opinion with confidence on a military question, it certainly appeared to us, that the operations of the French army had been ill combined. Indeed, some French officers with whom we conversed on the next day, allowed that the battle had been ill fought, but, as usual, laid all the blame upon Marmont. The main body of the French army, advancing by the road from Soissons, attacked the villages of Ardon and Semilly in front of the town, on the centre of Marshal Blucher's position, and his right wing, which was posted in the intersected ground to the west of the town, on the morning of the 9th of March. These parts of the position were occupied chiefly by the corps of Woronzoff and Buloff, and as they were very strong, no impression was made on them, and the troops who defended them maintained themselves, without support from the reserves, during the whole day. Late in the evening, the corps of Marmont, with a body of cavalry under Arrighi, appeared on the road from Rheims, advancing apparently without any communication or concert with the troops under Napoleon in person, (who were drawn up, for the most part, in heavy columns, in the immediate vicinity of the Soissons road), and made a furious attack on the extreme left of Marshal Blucher's position. The Marshal being satisfied by this time, that the troops in position about the town were adequate to the defence of it against Napoleon's force, was enabled to detach the whole corps of York, Kleist, and Sacken, with the greater part of his cavalry, to oppose Marmont, who was instantly overthrown, cut off from all communication with Napoleon, and driven across the Aisne, with the loss of four or five thousand prisoners, and forty pieces of cannon. The only assistance which Napoleon could give him in his retreat, was by renewing the attack on Ardon and Semilly, which he did next morning, and maintained the action during the whole of the 10th, with no other effect, than preventing the pursuit of Marmont from being followed up by the vigour which might otherwise have been displayed by the Silesian army, notwithstanding the fatigues which they had undergone at that time, during six weeks of continued marching and fighting.

The village of Athies, where the contest with Marmont's corps was decided, containing about 200 houses, had been completely burnt in the time of the action; and, when we were there, little progress had been made in rebuilding it, but the inhabitants, then living in temporary sheds, displayed their usual cheerfulness and equanimity; they were very loud in reprobation of the military conduct of Marmont, and very anxious to convince us, that the French had been overwhelmed only by great superiority of numbers, and that the allies might have completely cut off the retreat of Marmont towards Rheims, if they had known how to profit by their success.

June 8th, we left Laon at sunrise, and took the road to St Quentin. For a few miles the road passes through the plain in which the town is placed, after which it enters a pass, formed between the sloping hills, by which its boundary is marked. These hills are, for the most part, soft and green, like those on the banks of the Yarrow in Scotland, but varied, in some places, by woods and orchards; and their lower declivities are every where covered by vineyards and garden cultivation. Near their foot is placed the village of Cressy, which struck us as the most comfortable we had seen in France. The houses are all neat and substantial, covered with excellent slated roofs, and lighted by large windows, each surrounded by a little garden, and exhibiting a degree of comfort rarely to be met with among the dwellings of the French peasantry. On inquiry, we found that these peasants had long been proprietors of their houses, with the gardens attached, and had each a vineyard on the adjoining heights. The effects of long established property were here very apparent in the habits of comfort and industry, which, in process of time, it had ingrafted upon the dispositions and wishes of the people.

After passing the ridge of little hills, through banks clothed with hanging woods, the road descends into a little circular valley, surrounded on all sides by rising grounds, which presented a scene of the most perfect rural beauty. The upper part of the hills were covered with luxuriant woods, whose flowing outline suited the expression of softness and repose by which the scene was distinguished; on the declivities below the wood, the vineyards, gardens, and fruit-trees, covered the sunny banks which descended into the plain, while the lower part of the valley was filled with a village, embosomed in fruit-trees, ornamented only by a simple spire. It is impossible for language to convey an adequate idea of the beauty of this exquisite scene; it united the interest of romantic scenery with the charm of cultivated nature, and seemed placed in this sequestered valley, to combine all that was delightful in rural life. When we first beheld it, the sun was newly risen; his increasing rays threw a soft light over the wooded hills, and illuminated the summit of the village spire; the grass and the vines were still glittering in the morning dew, and the songs of the peasants were heard on all sides, cheering the beginning of their early labour. The marks of cultivation harmonized with the expression by which the scene was characterised; they were emblematic only of human happiness, and had a tendency to induce the momentary belief, that in this sequestered spot the human species shared in the fulness of universal joy.

As we descended into the valley, we perceived a great chateau near the western extremity of the village of Foudrain, which appeared still to be inhabited, and had none of the appearance of decay by which all that we had hitherto seen were distinguished. It belongs to the Chevalier Brancas, who is proprietor of this and seven or eight of the adjoining villages, and whose estates extend over a great part of the surrounding country. On enquiry, we found that this great proprietor had, long before the revolution, pursued a most enlightened and indulgent conduct towards his peasantry, giving them leases of their houses and gardens of 20 or 30 years, and never removing any even at the expiration of that period, if their conduct had been industrious during its continuance. The good effects of this liberal policy have appeared in the most striking manner, not only in the increased industry and enlarged wealth of the tenants; but in the moderate, loyal conduct which they pursued, during the eventful period of the revolution. The farmers on this estate are some of the richest in France; many being possessed of a capital of 15,000 or 16,000 francs, (from L. 750 to L. 800 Sterling,) a very large sum in that country, and amply sufficient for the management of the farms which they possessed. Their houses are neat and comfortable in the most remarkable degree, and the farm-steadings as extensive and substantial as in the most improved districts of England. The ground is cultivated with the utmost care, and the industry of the peasants is conspicuous in every part of agricultural management. It was impossible, in comparing these prosperous dwellings with the decayed villages in most other parts of the country, not to discern, in the clearest manner, the salutary influence of individual security upon the labouring classes; and the tendency which the certainty of enjoying the fruits of their labour has, not merely in increasing their present industry, but awakening those wishes of improvement, and engendering those habits of comfort; which are the only true foundation of public happiness.

During the revolution, when the peasants of all the adjoining estates violently dispossessed their landlords of their property; when every adjoining chateau exhibited a scene of desolation and ruin; the peasants of this estate were remarkable for their moderate and steady conduct; so far from themselves pillaging their seigneur, they formed a league for his defence "—Ils l'ont soutenus," as they themselves expressed it—and he continued throughout, and is now in the quiet possession of his great estate. It is not perhaps going too far to say, that had the peasants throughout the country been treated with the same indulgence, and suffered to enjoy the same property, as in this delightful district, France would have been spared from all the horrors and all the sufferings of her revolution.

From Foudrain to La Fere, the country is, for the most part, flat; and the road, which is shaded by lofty trees, skirts the edge of a great forest, which stretches as far as the eye can reach to the left; and joins with the forest of Villars Coterets. For many miles the road is bordered by fruit-trees, and the cottages have a most comfortable thriving appearance. To St Quentin the face of the country is flat, though the ridge over which you pass is high; the villages have an appearance of progress and opulence about them, which is rarely to be met with in other parts of France. All the peasantry carry on manufactures in their own houses; and probably their gains are very considerable, as their houses are much more neat and comfortable than in districts which are solely agricultural, and their dress bears the appearance of considerable wealth. The cultivation in the open country still continues, in general, to be wheat, barley, clover, and fallow; but the approach to French Flanders is very obvious, both from the increased quantity of rye under cultivation, from the occasional fields of beans which are to be met with, and from the numbers of potatoes and other vegetables which are to be discerned round the immediate vicinity of the villages. In these villages the houses are white-washed, surrounded by gardens, and have a smiling aspect.

La Fere is a small town, surrounded with trifling fortifications, containing a considerable arsenal of artillery. We were much amused, while there, with the spectacle which the market exhibited. A great concourse of people had been collected from all quarters, to purchase a number of artillery horses which the government had exposed at a low price, to indemnify the people for the losses they had sustained during the continuance of the war. The crowds of grotesque figures which thronged the streets, the picturesque appearance of the horses that were exposed to sale, and the fierce martial aspect of the grenadiers of the old guard, a detachment of whom were quartered in the town, rendered this scene truly characteristic of the French people.

St Quentin is a neat, clean, and thriving town, resembling, both in the forms of the houses, and the opulence of the middling classes, the better sort of the country towns in England. It is the seat of considerable manufactures, which throve amazingly under the imperial government, in consequence of the exclusion of the English commodities during the revolutionary wars. The linen manufacture is the staple branch of industry, and affords employment to the peasantry in their own houses, in every direction in the surrounding country, which is probably the cause of the thriving prosperous appearance by which they are distinguished. The great church of St Quentin, though not built in fine proportions, is striking, from the coloured glass of its windows, and its great dimensions.

The French cultivation continues without any other change than the increased quantity of rye in the fields, and vegetables round the cottages, to the frontier of French Flanders. Still the country exhibits one unbroken sheet of corn and fallow; no inclosures are to be seen, and little wood varies the uniformity of the prospect. In crossing a high ridge which separates St Quentin from Cambray, the road passes over the great canal from Antwerp to Paris, which is here carried for many miles through a tunnel under ground. This great work was commenced under the administration of M. Turgot, but it was not completed till the time of Bonaparte, who employed in it great numbers of the prisoners whom he had taken in Spain. The magnitude of the undertaking may be judged of from the immense depth of the hollow which was cut for it, previous to the commencement of the tunnel, which is so great, that the canal, when seen from the top, has the appearance of a little stream. The course of the tunnel is marked on the surface of the ground by a line of chalky soil, which is spread above its centre, and which can be seen as far as the eye can reach, stretching over the vast ridge by which the country is traversed.

At the distance of three miles from the town of Cambray, the road crosses the ancient frontiers of French Flanders. We had long been looking for this transition, to discover if it still exhibited the striking change described by Arthur Young, "between the effects of the despotism of old France, which depressed agriculture, and the free spirit of the Burgundian provinces, which cherished and protected it." No sooner had we crossed the old line of demarcation between the French and Flemish provinces, than we were immediately struck with the difference, both in the aspect of the country, the mode of cultivation, and the condition of the people. The features of the landscape assume a totally different aspect; the straight roads, the clipt elms, the boundless plains of France are no longer to be seen; and in their place succeeds a thickly wooded soil and cultivated country. The number of villages is infinitely increased; the village spires rise above the woods in every direction, to mark the antiquity and the extent of the population: the houses of the peasants are detached from each other, and surrounded with fruit trees, or gardens kept in the neatest order, and all the features of the landscape indicate the long established prosperity by which the country has been distinguished.

Nor is the difference less striking in the mode of cultivation which is purified. Fallows, so common in France, almost universally disappear; and in their place, numerous crops of beans, pease, potatoes, carrots and endive, are to be met with. In the cultivation of these crops manual labour is universally employed; and the mode of cultivation is precisely that which is carried on in garden husbandry. The crops are uniformly laid out in small patches of an acre or thereby to each species of vegetable; which, combined with the extreme minuteness of the cultivation, gives the country under tillage the appearance of a great kitchen garden. This singular practice, which is universal in Flanders, is probably owing to the great use of the manual labour in the operations of agriculture. Rye is very much cultivated, and forms the staple food of the peasantry. The crops of wheat, barley, oats, rye, and clover, struck us as exceedingly heavy, but not nearly so clean as those of a similar description in the best agricultural districts of our own country.

But it is principally in the condition, manners, and comfort of the people, that the difference between the French and Flemish provinces consists. Every thing connected with the lower orders, indicates the influence of long-established prosperity, and the prevalence of habits produced by the uninterrupted enjoyment of individual opulence. The population of Flanders, both French and Austrian, is perfectly astonishing; the villages form an almost uninterrupted line through the country; the small towns are as numerous as villages in other parts of the world, and seem to contain an extensive and comfortable population. These small towns are particularly remarkable for the number and opulence of the middling classes, resembling in this, as well as other respects, the flourishing boroughs of Yorkshire and Kent, and affording a most striking contrast to those of a very opposite description, which we had recently passed through in France.

The cottages of the peasantry, both in the villages and the open country, are in the highest degree, neat, dean, and comfortable; built for the most part of brick, and slated in the roof; nowhere exhibiting the slightest symptoms of dilapidation. These houses have almost all a garden attached to them, in the cultivation of which, the poor people display, not only extreme industry, but a degree of taste superior to what might be expected from their condition in life: The inside bore the marks of great comfort, both from the cleanness which every where prevailed, and the costly nature of the furniture with which they were filled. Nothing could be more pleasing than the appearance of the windows, every where in the best repair, large and capacious, and furnished with shutters on the outside, painted green, which, together with the bright whiteness of the walls, gave the whole the appearance of buildings destined for ornamental purposes, rather than the abode of the lower orders of the people.

Cambray is a neat comfortable town, containing 15,000 inhabitants, and surrounded by fortifications in tolerable repair, but which, when we passed them, were not armed. It was once celebrated for its magnificent cathedral, reckoned the finest in France; but a few ruins of this great building alone have escaped the fury of the people, during the commencement of the revolution. These trifling remains, however, were sufficient to convey some idea of the beautiful proportions in which the whole had been constructed; they resembled much the finest part of Dryburgh Abbey, in Scotland. The modern cathedral, built near the site of the old one, has a mean exterior, but possesses considerable splendour in the inside.

From Cambray to Valenciennes, the features of the country continue the same as those we have just described. The surface of the ground is still flat, and cultivated in every part with the utmost care, in the garden style of husbandry. We were particularly struck, in this district, by the quantity of drilled crops, the admirable order in which they are kept, and the vast numbers of people, both men, women, and children, who appeared engaged in their cultivation. Nothing, indeed, but the great demand for labour, occasioned by the use of manual labour in husbandry, could have produced, or could support, the great population by which Flanders has always been distinguished.

Valenciennes, situated in one of the finest districts of Flanders, is likewise a well built, comfortable town, built entirely of brick, and surrounded by magnificent fortifications, in admirable repair. As this was the first well fortified town which we had seen, it was to us a matter of no ordinary interest, which was encreased by the remembrance of the celebrated siege which it had undergone from the English army at the commencement of the revolutionary war. We were shewn the point at which the English forced their entrance; and the numberless marks of cannon-balls which their artillery had occasioned during the siege were still uneffaced. Though the modern fortifications, built after the model of Vauban, have not the romantic or picturesque aspect which belongs to the aged towers of Montreuil, Abbeville, or Laon, or the more ruinous walls of the town of Conway in Wales, yet they present a pleasing spectacle, arising partly from the regularity of the forms themselves, and partly from the association with which they are connected.

From Valenciennes to Mons, the country is still flat, though the cultivation and the aspect of the scene is somewhat varied from what had been exhibited by the districts of French Flanders, through which we had previously passed. It lies lower, and appears more subject to inundation: Ditches appear at intervals, filled with water, and extensive meadows are to be seen, covered with rank and luxuriant grass. The cultivation of grain and green crops is less frequent, and in their stead, vast tracks of rich pasture cover the face of the country. Much wood is to be seen on all sides, often of great dimensions; and the population appears still as great as before. The villages succeed one another so fast, as almost to form a continued street; and the numberless spires which rise over the woods in every direction, prove that this number of inhabitants extends over the whole country. The cottages still continue neat and comfortable; not picturesque to a painter's eye, but exhibiting the more delightful appearance of individual prosperity. Their beauty is much increased by the quantity of wood, or the variety of fruit-trees, with which the villages are interspersed. There are many coal-pits in this country, and a great deal of carriage of this valuable mineral on the principal roads. They present a scene of infinitely more bustle and activity than the richest parts of France. We met a great number of waggons, harnessed and equipped like those in England; and the numbers of carriages reminded us, in some degree, of the extraordinary appearance, in this respect, which the approach to our own capital presents; a state of things widely different from the desolate chaussees which the interior of France exhibits. Every thing in the small towns and villages bore the marks of activity, industry, and increasing prosperity. We passed with much interest over the celebrated field of battle of Jemappe, where the remains of Austrian redoubts are still visible.

Mons, the frontier town of Austrian Flanders, was once a place of great strength, and underwent a dreadful siege during the wars of the Duke of Marlborough; but its ramparts are now dismantled, according to the ruinous policy of Joseph II. The square in the town is large, and has a striking appearance, owing to the picturesque and varied forms of the houses and public buildings of which it is formed. From the summit of the great steeple, to which you are conducted by a stair of 353 steps, there is a magnificent view over the adjacent country to a great distance. It is for the most part green, owing to the immense quantity of land under pasturage, and clothed in every direction with extensive woods. At a considerable distance we were shewn the woods and heights of Malplaquet, the scene of one of the Duke of Marlborough's great victories, of which the people still spoke, as if it had been one of the recent occurrences of the war. This town, when we visited it, was completely filled with Prussian and Saxon troops, whose intrepid martial appearance bespoke that undaunted character by which they have been distinguished in the memorable actions of which this country has since been the theatre.

On leaving Mons, on the road to Brussels, you quit the low swampy plain in which the town is situated, and ascend a gentle hill, clothed with wood, in the openings of which many beautiful views of the spires of the city are to be seen. The hill itself is composed entirely of sand, and would be reckoned a rising ground in most other countries, but it forms a pleasing variety to the level plains of Flanders. From thence to Brussels, a distance of 35 miles, the scenery is beautiful in the greatest degree. Unlike the flat surface which prevails over most parts of this country, it is charmingly varied by hills and vallies, adorned by beautiful woods, whose disposition resembles rather that of trees in a gentleman's park, than what usually occurs in an agricultural country. The cottages, over the whole of this district, are particularly pleasing; every where white-washed, clean and comfortable; half hid by a profusion of fruit-trees, or the aged stems of elm and ash.

Brain-le-Compte, Halle, and a number of smaller towns through which the road passes, are distinguished by the neatness of the houses, and the number and opulence of the middling classes of society. The vallies are admirably cultivated in agricultural or garden husbandry, and interspersed with numerous cottages; the gentle slopes are laid out in grass or pasture, and the uplands clothed with luxuriant woods. Upon the whole, the scenery between Mons and Brussels was the most delightful we had ever seen of a similar description, both from the richness and extent of the cultivation; the appearance of public and private property, which was unceasingly exhibited; the beautiful variety of the ground, and the charming disposition of the woods which terminate the view. The village spires, whose summits rise above the distant woods in every direction, increased the effect which the objects of nature were fitted to produce, both from the beauty of their forms themselves, and the pleasing reflections which they awaken in the mind.

We passed through this beautiful country in a fine summer evening in the middle of June. The heat of the day had passed: The shades of evening were beginning to spread over the lowland country; the forest of Soignies was still illuminated by the glow of the setting sun, while his level rays shed a peaceful light over the woods which skirt the field of WATERLOO. We little thought that the scene, which was now expressive only of rest and happiness, should hereafter be the theatre of mortal combat: that the same sun which seemed now to set amid the blessings of a grateful world, should so soon illuminate a field of agony and death; and that the ground which we now trod with no other feelings than admiration for the beauty of nature, was destined to become the field of deathless glory to the British name.

The state of agriculture from Cambray to Brussels, both in French and Austrian Flanders, is admirable. No fallows are any where to be seen, and in their place, green crops, of which beans, peas, carrots, &c. form the principal part. These green crops are kept very clean, and all worked by the spade or hoe, which furnishes employment to the immense population which is diffused over the country. Crops of rye, which, when we passed them in the middle of June, were in full ear, are every where very common; indeed, rye bread seems to be the staple food of the peasantry. Much wheat, barley, and oats, are also cultivated, with a great deal of sainfoin and clover, which is never pastured, but cut, and carried green into the stalls of the cattle. No inclosures are to be seen, except round the orchards and gardens which surround the villages; and, indeed, fences would be a useless waste of ground in a country where every corner is valuable, and no cattle are ever to be seen in the open fields. The soil seemed to be excellent throughout the whole country; sometimes sandy, and sometimes, a rich loam; and the crop, both of corn, beans, and grass, heavy and luxuriant. With the exception, however, of the grain crops, which are generally drilled, the fields are not nearly so clean as in the best parts of England.

The farm steadings and implements of husbandry in all parts of Flanders, are greatly superior to those in France. The waggons are not only more numerous on the roads, but greatly neater in their construction than in France; the ploughs are of a better construction, and the farm offices both more extensive, and in better repair. Every thing, in short, indicated a much more improved and opulent class of agriculturists, and a country in which the fundamental expenses of cultivation had long been incurred.

Near Cambray, the wages of labour are one franc a-day. Near Valenciennes, and from that to Mons, they are from 1 franc to 25 sous, that is, from 10d. to 12-1/2d. From Mons to Brussels, and round that town, from 1 franc to 30 sous, that is, from 10d. to 15d. The rent of land was stated in French Flanders at 20 francs, and the price 1000 francs per marcoti; and from Valenciennes to Mons, from 35 to 50 francs; but we could never accurately ascertain what proportion a marcoti bore to the English acre.

The size of the farms is exceedingly various in the districts of Flanders which we have visited. From Cambray to Valenciennes, they were called from 200 to 300 marcotis; but from Mons to Brussels, an exceedingly well-cultivated district, they seldom exceed from 50 to 100 marcotis; which, as far as we could judge, was not above from 25 to 50 acres. That the size of the farms is in general exceedingly small, appears obviously from the immense number of farm-houses which are every where to be seen. The course and mode of cultivation appears to be precisely the same on the great and the small farms.

The state of the people, both in French and Austrian Flanders, was most exceedingly comfortable. Not the smallest traces of dirt are to be seen, either in the exterior or the interior of the peasants dwellings. Their dress, as in France, is in general neat and substantial, covered with a light blue smock-frock, and without any appearance of abject want. The women in general appeared handsome, and very well clad. Every thing, in short, bespoke a rich, prosperous, and happy population.

BRUSSELS is a large, populous, and in many respects a handsome town. It stands upon the side of a hill, the lower part being the old town, and the higher the fashionable quarter. Near the centre of the old town is placed a square of considerable size, surrounded by high antiquated buildings of a most remarkable construction; and the Hotel de Ville, which occupies nearly one of its sides, is ornamented by a high Gothic spire of the lightest form, and the most exquisite proportions. The Cathedral is large, and has two massy towers in front; but the effect of the interior, which would otherwise be very grand, from its immense size, is much injured by statues affixed to the pillars, and an intermixture of red and white colours, with which the walls are painted. In this Cathedral, as well as in the churches throughout Flanders which we visited, we were much struck by the numbers of people who attended service, and the earnestness with which they seemed to participate in religious duty;—a spectacle which was the more impressive, from the levity or negligence with which we had been accustomed to see similar services attended in France.

The Parc, which is an immense square of splendid buildings, inclosing a great space, covered with fine timber, is probably the most magnificent square in Europe. The Royal Palace, and all the houses of the nobility, are here situated. There is nothing of the kind, either in Paris or London, which can be compared with this square, either in extent, the beauty of the private houses, or the richness and variety of the woods.

At Brussels, we saw 1500 British troops on parade in the great square. We were particularly struck with the number and brilliant appearance of the officers. It would be going too far to say, that they understood their duty better than those of the allied armies; but they unquestionably have infinitely more of the appearance and manners of gentlemen. The proportion of officers to privates appeared much greater than in the other European armies; but the common soldiers had not nearly so sun-burnt; weather-beaten an appearance. Among the British troops, the Highlanders resembled most nearly the swarthy aspect of the foreign soldiers. The discipline of these troops was admirable; they were much beloved by the inhabitants, who recounted with delight numerous instances of their humanity and moderation. In this respect they formed a striking contrast to the Prussians, whose abuses and voracity were uniformly spoken of in terms of severe reprobation.

The ramparts at Brussels, especially in the upper parts of the town, are planted with trees, and afford a delightful walk, commanding an extensive view over the adjacent country. The favourite promenade at Brussels, however, is the Allee Verte, situated two miles from the town, on the road to Antwerp, which forms a drive of two miles in length, under the shade of lofty trees. It was filled, when we saw it, with numerous parties of officers of all nations, principally German and British; and we could not help observing, how much more brilliant the appearance of our own countrymen was, than that of their brethren in any other service. Indeed they are taken from a different class of society: in the continental states, men, from inferior situations, enter the army with a view to obtain a subsistence; in the British service alone, men of rank and fortune leave the enjoyment and opulence of peaceful life, to share in the toils and the hardships of war.

The Chateau of Lacken, now the royal dwelling, stands on an eminence in the vicinity of Brussels, commanding a delightful view over the environs of the city. There are few views in Flanders so magnificent as that from the summit of this palace. It is surrounded by beautiful gardens and shrubberies, laid out in the English style, and arranged with much taste.

The vicinity of Brussels is so much clothed with wood, as to resemble, when seen from the spires of the city, a continued forest. To the south-west, indeed, the whole country is covered with the vast forest of Soignies, clothing a range of gentle hills, which stretch as far as the field of Waterloo. The varieties of wood scenery which it exhibits, are exceedingly beautiful; and in many places, the oaks grow to an immense size, and present the most picturesque appearance. It was from this forest that Bonaparte obtained the timber for his great naval arsenal at Antwerp.

To the south of Brussels, in the direction of Liege, and in the environs of that town, the country is covered with innumerable cottages, in the neatest order, inhabited by manufacturers, who carry on, in their own houses, the fabrics for which that city is so celebrated. These cottagers have all their gardens and houses in property; and the appearance of prosperity, which their dwellings uniformly exhibit, as well as the neatness of their dress, and the costly nature of their fare, demonstrate the salutary influence, which this intermixture of manufacturing and agricultural occupation is fitted to have on the character and habits of the lower orders of society. It resembles, in this particular, the state of the people in the West Riding of Yorkshire, and in the beautiful scenes of the vale of Gloucester.

In the neighbourhood of Brussels, the condition of the peasantry appeared exceedingly comfortable. Their neat gardens, their substantial dwellings, their comfortable dress, indicated here, as elsewhere in Flanders, the effects of d and general prosperity. Most of these houses and gardens belong in property to the peasants; others are hired from the proprietors of the ground; but when this is the case, they generally have the advantage of a long lease. The peasants complained, in the bitterest terms, of the taxes and contributions of the French, stating that the public burdens had been more than quadrupled since they were separated from the Austrian Government, of which they still spoke in terms of affection and regret. The impot fonciere, or land-tax, under the French, amounted to one-fifth of the rent, or 20 per cent. The wages of labour were from 15 sous to one franc a-day; but the labourer dined with the farmer, his employer. Most of the land was laid out in garden cultivation, and every where tilled with the utmost care. The soil appeared rich and friable; and the crops, both of agricultural and garden produce, were extremely heavy. The rent was stated as varying from 60 to 150 francs journatier, which appeared to be about three-fourths of an acre.

One thing struck us extremely in the condition of the people, both here and in other parts of Flanders—the sumptuous fare on which they live. It is a common thing to see artisans and mechanics sitting down to a dinner, at a table d'hote, of ten or twelve dishes; such a dinner as would be esteemed excellent living in England. The lower orders of the people, the day labourers and peasants, seemed to live, generally speaking, in a very comfortable manner. Vegetables form a large portion of their food, and they are raised in large quantities, and great perfection, in all parts of the country.

On leaving Brussels, we took the road to Malines and Antwerp. The surface of the ground the whole way is perfectly flat, and much intersected by canals, on whose banks much rich pasture is to be seen. For the first six miles, the road is varied by chateaus and villas, laid out in the stiff antiquated style of French gardening. The cultivation between Brussels and Malines is all conducted in the garden style, and with the most incomparable neatness; but the cottages are formed of wood and mud, and exhibited more symptoms of dilapidation, than in any other part of the country which we had seen. Whether this was the consequence of the materials of which they are built, or was the result of some local institution, we were unable to determine.

We saw a body of 3000 Prussian landwehr enter Brussels, shortly before we left the city. The appearance of these men was very striking. They had just terminated a march of 14 miles, under a burning sun, and were all covered with dust and sweat. Notwithstanding the military service in which they had been engaged, they still bore the appearance of their country occupations; their sun-burnt faces, their rugged features, and massy limbs, bespoke the life of laborious industry to which they had been habituated. They wore an uniform coat or frock, a military cap, and their arms and accoutrements were in the most admirable order; but in other respects, their dress was no other than what they had worn at home. The sight of these brave men told, in stronger language than words could convey, the grievous oppression to which Prussia had been subjected, and the unexampled valour with which her people had risen against the iron yoke of French dominion. They were not regular soldiers, raised for the ordinary service of the state, and arrayed in the costume of military life; they were not men of a separate profession, maintained by government for the purposes of defence; they were the people of the country, roused from their peaceful employments by the sense of public danger, and animated by the heroic determination to avenge the sufferings of their native land. The young were there, whose limbs were yet unequal to the weight of the arms which they had to bear; the aged were there, whose strength had been weakened by a life of labour and care; all, of whatever rank or station, marched alike in the ranks which their valour and their patriotism had formed. Their appearance suited the sacred cause in which they had been engaged, and marked the magnitude of the efforts which their country had made. They were still, in some measure, in the garb of rural life, but the determination of their step, the soldier-like regularity of their motions, and the enthusiastic expression of their countenances, indicated the unconquerable spirit by which they had been animated, and told the greatness of the sufferings which had at last awakened

"The might that slumbers in a peasant's arm."

There is no spectacle in the moral history of mankind more interesting or more sublime, than that which was exhibited by the people of the north of Germany in the last war. During the progress of the disastrous wars which succeeded the French revolution, the states of Germany experienced all the miseries of protracted warfare, and all the degradation of conquered power; but amidst the sufferings and humiliation to which they were subjected, the might of Germany was concentrating its power; the enthusiasm of her people was animating the soldier's courage, and the virtue of her inhabitants was sanctifying the soldier's cause: and when at last the hour of retribution arrived, when the sufferings of twenty years were to be revenged, and the disgrace of twenty years was to be effaced; it was by the energy of her people that these sufferings were revenged, and by the sacrifices of her people, that these victories were obtained. Crushed as they had been beneath the yoke of foreign dominion; shackled as they were by the fetters of foreign power, and unprotected as they long continued to be from the ravages of hostile revenge; the people of PRUSSIA boldly threw off the yoke, and hesitated not to encounter all the fury of imperial ambition, that they might redeem the glory which their ancestors had acquired, and defend the land which their forefathers had preserved. While Austria yet hung in doubt between the contending Powers; while the fate of the civilized world was yet pending on the shores of the Vistula, the whole body of the Prussian people flew to arms; they left their homes, their families, and all that was dear to them, without provision, and without defence: they trusted in God alone, and in the justice of their cause. This holy enthusiasm supported them in many an hour of difficulty and of danger, when they were left to its support alone; it animated them in the bloody field of Juterbock, and overthrew their enemies on the banks of the Katzback; it burned in the soldier's breast under the walls of Leipsic, and sustained the soldier's fortitude in the plains of Vauchamp: it terminated not till it had planted the Prussian eagle victorious on the ruins of that power, which had affected to despise the efforts of the Prussian people.

The town of Malines is exceedingly neat, and ornamented by a great tower, of heavy architecture, producing a striking effect from every part of the adjoining country. The interior of the church, like that of all the other Catholic churches, is impressive to an English spectator, from the effect of its vast dimensions. The town was entirely filled by Prussian soldiers, and landwehr of the Prussian corps d'armee of Bulow, who went through their evolutions in the exactest discipline.

From Malines to Antwerp the country is under a higher system of management, than in any other district of Flanders which we had seen. It is thickly planted with trees, insomuch as, from an eminence, to have the appearance of a continued forest. The landscape scenery, seen through the openings of the wood, and generally terminating in a village spire, is exceedingly beautiful, and reminded us of the scenes in Waterloo's engravings. Great quantities of potatoes and beans are to be seen in the fields, which are kept in the highest state of cultivation. The number of villages is extremely great; but the people, though so numerous, had all the appearance of being in a prosperous and happy condition.

On approaching Antwerp, the trees and houses are all cut down, to give room for the fire of the cannon-shot from the ramparts of the fortress. We passed over this desolated space in the evening, soon after sunset, when the spires of the city had a beautiful effect on the fading colours of the western sky. High over all rose the spire of the cathedral, a most beautiful piece of the lightest Gothic, of immense height, and the most exquisite proportions. Though this building has stood for seven centuries, the carving of the pinnacles, and the finishing of the ornaments, are at this moment as perfect as the day they were formed; and when seen in shadow on an evening sky, present a spectacle which combines all that is majestic and graceful in Gothic architecture.

After passing through the numerous gates, and over the multiplied bridges which surround this fortress, we found ourselves in the interior of Antwerp; a city of great interest, in consequence of the warlike preparations of which it had been the theatre, and the importance which had been attached to it by both parties in the recent contest. It is an extensive old city, evidently formed for a much more extensive commerce than it has now for a long period enjoyed. The form of the houses is singular, grotesque and irregular, offering at every turn the most picturesque forms to a painter's eye. We were soon conducted to the famous dockyard, constructed by Bonaparte, which had been the source of so much uneasiness to this country; and could not help being surprised at the smallness of the means which he had been able to obtain for the overthrow of our naval power. The docks did not appear to us at all large; but they are very deep, and during the siege, by the English and Prussian troops, contained 20 ships of the line, besides 14 frigates. When we saw them they were lying in the Scheldt, and being all within two miles of each other, presented a very magnificent spectacle.

In the arsenal were 14 ships of the line on the stocks, of which seven were of 120 guns; but these vessels were all demolished except one, shortly after we left them, in virtue of an article in the treaty of Paris. Bonaparte had for long been exerting himself to the utmost to form a great naval depot at Antwerp; he had not only fortified the town in the strongest possible manner, but collected immense quantities of timber and other naval stores for the equipment of a powerful fleet. The ships first built, however, had been formed of wood, which was so ill seasoned, that, ever since their construction, above 200 carpenters had been employed annually to repair the beams which were going to decay.

In the citadel, which is a beautiful fortification in the finest order, we conversed with various English soldiers who had been in the attack on Bergen-op-Zoom, of which they all spoke in terms of the utmost horror. Its failure they ascribed not to any error in the plan of attack, which they all agreed was most skilfully combined, but to a variety of circumstances which thwarted the attack, after its success appeared to have been certain. Our troops, they said, went round the ramparts, and carried every battery; but neglecting to spike the guns, the French came behind them, and turned the guns they had recently captured against themselves. Much also was attributed to the hesitation occasioned by the death of the principal officers, and the unfortunate effect of the discovery of some spirit cellars, from which the soldiers could not be restrained. We were much gratified, by hearing the warm and enthusiastic manner in which even the private soldiers spoke of their gallant commander, Sir Thomas Graham; While we admired the frank, open and independent spirit which these English soldiers in garrison at Antwerp evinced, we could not help observing, that they did not converse on military matters with nearly the same intelligence, or evince the same reflection on the manoeuvres of war, as those of the French imperial guard, with whom we had spoken in a former part of our journey.

Though such extensive naval preparations had been going forward for years at Antwerp, there was not the slightest appearance of bustle at activity in the streets, or on the quays of the city. These were as deserted, as if Antwerp had been reduced to a fishing village, indicating, in the strongest manner, that nothing but the habits of commerce, and the command of the seas, can nurse that body of active seamen, who form the only foundation of naval power.

There is a fine picture, by Oels, in the church of St Paul's at Antwerp; but the church itself is built in the most barbarous taste. The cathedral is a most magnificent building, both in the outside and inside; and its spire, which is 460 feet in height, is probably the finest specimen of light Gothic in the world. Its immense aisles were filled at every hour of the day, by numbers of people, who seemed to join in the service with sincere devotion, and exhibited the example of a country, in which religious feeling was generally diffused among the people—which formed a striking contrast to the utter indifference to these subjects which universally prevails in France.

It was not a mere vain threat on the part of Napoleon, that he would burn the English manufactures. We were informed at Antwerp by eye-witnesses, that they had seen L. 90,000 worth of English goods burnt at once in the great square of that city; all of which had been bought and paid for by the Flemish merchants. The people then spoke in terms of great sorrow, of the ruin which this barbarous policy had brought upon the people of the countries in which it was carried into effect.

In the vicinity of Antwerp, we walked over the Counter Dyke of Couvestein, which was the scene of such desperate conflicts between the army of the Prince of Parma, and the troops of the United Provinces, who were advancing to the relief of Antwerp. The interest arising from the remembrance of this memorable struggle, was increased by the narrowness of the ground on which the action was maintained, being a long dyke running across the low country which borders the banks of the Scheldt near Fort Lillo, and which alone of all the surrounding country, at the time of the action, was not immersed in water. Every foot, therefore, of the ground of this dyke which we trod, must have been the spot on which a desperate struggle had been maintained. In casting our eyes back to the distant spires of the city of Antwerp, we could not help entering for an instant, into the feelings of the people who were then besieged; and remembering that these spires, which now rose so beautifully on the distant horizon, were then crowded with people, who awaited with dreadful anxiety, in the issue of the action which was then pending, the future fate of themselves and their children.

To those who take an interest in the delightful study of political economy, and who have examined the condition of the people in different countries, with a view to discover the causes of their welfare or their suffering, there is no spectacle so interesting as that which the situation of the people in Flanders affords. The country is uniformly populous in the extreme; go where you will, you every where meet with the marks of a dense population; yet no where are the symptoms of general misery to be found; no where does the principle of population seem to press beyond the limits assigned for the comfortable maintenance of the human species. Flanders has exhibited, for centuries, the instance of a numerous, dense, and happy population. It would perhaps not be unreasonable to conclude, from this circumstance, that the doctrines now generally admitted in regard to the increase of the human species have been received with too little examination. Man possesses in himself the principles requisite for the regulation of the increase of the numbers of mankind; and where the influence of government does not interfere with their operation, they are sufficient to regulate the progress of population according to the interest and welfare of all classes of the people.

END OF VOLUME FIRST.

EDINBURGH: Printed by JOHN PILLANS, James's Court.



TRAVELS IN FRANCE,

DURING THE YEARS 1814-15.

COMPRISING A

RESIDENCE AT PARIS DURING THE STAY OF THE ALLIED ARMIES,

AND

AT AIX, AT THE PERIOD OF THE LANDING OF BONAPARTE.

IN TWO VOLUMES.

VOL. II.

SECOND EDITION, CORRECTED AND ENLARGED.

EDINBURGH:

PRINTED FOR MACREADIE, SKELLY, AND MUCKERSY, 52, PRINCE'S STREET;

LONGMAN, HURST, REES, ORME, AND BROWN; BLACK, PARRY AND CO. T. UNDERWOOD, LONDON; AND J. CUMMING, DUBLIN.

1816.



CHAPTER I.

JOURNEY TO AIX.

IT was thought advisable, by the gentleman who is now about to commence his journal, to avoid making many remarks on the state of the country, or the manners of the inhabitants, until he should have remained fixed for a few months in France. In no country is it so difficult as there, to obtain information regarding the most interesting points, whether commerce, manufactures, agriculture, manners, or religion; and this arises from the multitude of people of all descriptions, who are willing, and who at least appear able, to afford you information. Strange paradox. A Frenchman makes it a rule, never to refuse information on any subject when it is demanded of him; and although he may, in fact, never have directed his attention to the matter in question, and may not possess the slightest information, he will yet descant most plausibly, and then seeking some opportunity of bidding you good day, he will fly off with the velocity of an arrow, leaving you astonished at the talent displayed: But sit down and analyse what he has said, and you will commonly find it the most thorough trifling—"vox et proeterea nihil." This observation, however, I mean only to apply to the information which a traveller obtains en passant; for there are undoubtedly to be found in France, men of eminent talents and of solid information; but these you can only pick out from the mass of common acquaintances, by dint of perseverance, and by the assistance of time. The result of the observations collected during a residence of five months at Aix, in Provence, will be given at the end of the following Journal.

JOURNAL.

As our present journey was undertaken principally for the benefit of my health, it was necessary that we should travel slowly, and take occasional rests. After our journey from Dieppe to the capital, we remained five days in Paris for this purpose. The first part of this book having conducted the reader by another route to Paris, and given a better description of that city than I am able to supply, I have not thought it necessary to insert the details of our journey thither; I shall content myself with remarking, that we had already gained considerable experience in French travelling, and were pretty well prepared to commence our journey toward the south.—On the 7th of November, therefore, we arranged matters for our departure with the voiturier, or carriage-hirer, who agrees to carry us (six in number), with all our baggage, which weighs nearly four cwt. to Lyons, a distance of 330 miles, for the sum of 630 francs, or, at our exchange, nearly L.30. As this bargain was made for us by Mr B——, a French gentleman, it may afford a good standard for this style of travelling.

We travel at the rate of 10 or 12 leagues a-day; and for invalids or persons wishing to see the country, this is by far the most pleasant, as well as the most economical way. There are two other methods of travelling, namely, en poste, which, though rapid, is very expensive; the charge being, at least a horse, often more, for each person, and very little baggage being taken; and the other is in a diligence, which, as it travels night and day, would not do for us. The carriage we now have is a large and commodious coach, very neat and clean, and we have three good strong horses. Our journey has as yet been varied by very little incident. The amusement derived from travelling in a foreign country, and becoming gradually familiarised to foreign manners,—the contrast between the style of travelling here, and that which you are accustomed to in England,—the amusing groupes of the villagers, who flock out of their houses, to see the English pass,—the grotesque and ludicrous figures of the French beggars, who, in the most unbounded variety of costume, surround the carriage the moment we stop,—and the solemn taciturnity of Monsieur Roger, our coachman, who is an extraordinary exception to the general vivacity of his nation; these are the only circumstances which serve at present to exhilarate our spirits, and to remove the tedium of French travelling.

Between Paris and Montargis, as we travelled during the day, we had a good opportunity of seeing the country. But we passed through it, to be sure, at an unfavourable season of the year. The vines were all withered, and their last leaves falling off. The elm, oak, and maple, were almost bare. There is not much fine wood in that part of the country through which we passed; and on the side of the road, there were many wild and sad looking swamps, with nothing but willow and poplars docked off for the twigs. The chief produce seems to be in grapes and wheat; the wheat here is further advanced than between Dieppe and Paris. The cows are of the same kind, the horses smaller, weaker, and yet dearer than those of Normandy; the agricultural instruments are massy and awkward; their ploughing is, however, very neat and regular, though not deep; their plough here has wheels, and seems easily managed; they harrow the land most effectually, having sometimes 10 or 12 horses in succession, each drawing a separate harrow over the same ground. The farm-horses, though very poor to an English eye, are fortunately much better than the horses for travelling. The stacks of grain, though rarely seen, are very neatly built. We left the grand road at Fontainbleau, and took the route by Nevers to Lyons. We have found it hitherto by no means equal to the other. No stone causeway in the middle, and at this time of the year, I should fear it is always as we found it, very heavy and dirty.