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having seen the Park； the fashionable boulevard； the pictures； the
cafeshaving sipped； I say； the sweets of every flower that grows
in this paradise of Brussels； quite weary of the place； we mounted
on a Namur diligence； and jingled off at four miles an hour for
Waterloo。
The road is very neat and agreeable： the Forest of Soignies here
and there interposes pleasantly； to give your vehicle a shade； the
country； as usual； is vastly fertile and well cultivated。 A farmer
and the conducteur were my companions in the imperial； and could I
have understood their conversation； my dear； you should have had
certainly a report of it。 The jargon which they talked was；
indeed； most queer and puzzlingFrench； I believe； strangely
hashed up and pronounced； for here and there one could catch a few
words of it。 Now and anon； however； they condescended to speak in
the purest French they could muster； and； indeed； nothing is more
curious than to hear the French of the country。 You can't
understand why all the people insist upon speaking it so badly。 I
asked the conductor if he had been at the battle； he burst out
laughing like a philosopher； as he was； and said 〃Pas si bete。〃 I
asked the farmer whether his contributions were lighter now than in
King William's time； and lighter than those in the time of the
Emperor？ He vowed that in war…time he had not more to pay than in
time of peace （and this strange fact is vouched for by every person
of every nation）； and being asked wherefore the King of Holland had
been ousted from his throne； replied at once； 〃Parceque c'etoit un
voleur：〃 for which accusation I believe there is some show of
reason； his Majesty having laid hands on much Belgian property
before the lamented outbreak which cost him his crown。 A vast deal
of laughing and roaring passed between these two worldly people and
the postilion； whom they called 〃baron；〃 and I thought no doubt
that this talk was one of the many jokes that my companions were
in the habit of making。 But not so： the postilion was an actual
baron； the bearer of an ancient name； the descendant of gallant
gentlemen。 Good heavens！ what would Mrs。 Trollope say to see his
lordship here？ His father the old baron had dissipated the family
fortune； and here was this young nobleman； at about five…and…forty；
compelled to bestride a clattering Flemish stallion； and bump over
dusty pavements at the rate of five miles an hour。 But see the
beauty of high blood： with what a calm grace the man of family
accommodates himself to fortune。 Far from being cast down； his
lordship met his fate like a man： he swore and laughed the whole of
the journey； and as we changed horses； condescended to partake of
half a pint of Louvain beer； to which the farmer treated him
indeed the worthy rustic treated me to a glass too。
Much delight and instruction have I had in the course of the
journey from my guide； philosopher； and friend； the author of
〃Murray's Handbook。〃 He has gathered together； indeed； a store of
information； and must； to make his single volume； have gutted many
hundreds of guide…books。 How the Continental ciceroni must hate
him； whoever he is！ Every English party I saw had this infallible
red book in their hands； and gained a vast deal of historical and
general information from it。 Thus I heard； in confidence； many
remarkable anecdotes of Charles V。； the Duke of Alva； Count Egmont；
all of which I had before perceived； with much satisfaction； not
only in the 〃Handbook；〃 but even in other works。
The Laureate is among the English poets evidently the great
favorite of our guide： the choice does honor to his head and heart。
A man must have a very strong bent for poetry； indeed； who carries
Southey's works in his portmanteau； and quotes them in proper time
and occasion。 Of course at Waterloo a spirit like our guide's
cannot fail to be deeply moved； and to turn to his favorite poet
for sympathy。 Hark how the laureated bard sings about the
tombstones at Waterloo：
〃That temple to our hearts was hallow'd now；
For many a wounded Briton there was laid；
With such for help as time might then allow；
From the fresh carnage of the field conveyed。
And they whom human succor could not save；
Here； in its precincts； found a hasty grave。
And here； on marble tablets； set on high；
In English lines by foreign workmen traced；
The names familiar to an English eye；
Their brethren here the fit memorial placed；
Whose unadorned inscriptions briefly tell
THEIR GALLANT COMRADES' rank； and where they fell。
The stateliest monument of human pride；
Enriched with all magnificence of art；
To honor chieftains who in victory died；
Would wake no stronger feeling in the heart
Than these plain tablets by the soldier's hand
Raised to his comrades in a foreign land。〃
There are lines for you！ wonderful for justice； rich in thought and
novel ideas。 The passage concerning their gallant comrades' rank
should be specially remarked。 There indeed they lie； sure enough：
the Honorable Colonel This of the Guards； Captain That of the
Hussars； Major So…and…So of the Dragoons； brave men and good； who
did their duty by their country on that day； and died in the
performance of it。
Amen。 But I confess fairly； that in looking at these tablets； I
felt very much disappointed at not seeing the names of the MEN as
well as the officers。 Are they to be counted for nought？ A few
more inches of marble to each monument would have given space for
all the names of the men； and the men of that day were the winners
of the battle。 We have a right to be as grateful individually to
any given private as to any given officer； their duties were very
much the same。 Why should the country reserve its gratitude for
the genteel occupiers of the army…list； and forget the gallant
fellows whose humble names were written in the regimental books？
In reading of the Wellington wars； and the conduct of the men
engaged in them； I don't know whether to respect them or to wonder
at them most。 They have death； wounds； and poverty in contemplation；
in possession； poverty； hard labor； hard fare； and small thanks。
If they do wrong； they are handed over to the inevitable provost…
marshal； if they are heroes； heroes they may be； but they remain
privates still； handling the old brown…bess； starving on the old
twopence a day。 They grow gray in battle and victory； and after
thirty years of bloody service； a young gentleman of fifteen； fresh
from a preparatory school； who can scarcely read； and came but
yesterday with a pinafore in to papa's dessertsuch a young
gentleman； I say； arrives in a spick…and…span red coat； and calmly
takes the command over our veteran； who obeys him as if God and
nature had ordained that so throughout time it should be。
That privates should obey； and that they should be smart