I read the diary yesterday.  I found it to be very interesting, and informative.  There is some information in this diary regarding the battle and how the Belgians felt about Napoleon, Wellington, the British and Prussian soldiers, and especially the Scotch troops, that I am certain has never before been published.  I found it to be very enlightening.

Following are some notes from Ms. Daniels concerning the diary you are about to read:

This has been typed as accurately as possible from the original notebook, numbered 5:

• spelling is unaltered
• grammar is unaltered
• punctuation, including, underlinings, parentheses, capital letters in (to us) strange places, is unaltered
• references to deletions are made where the deletions themselves may be of interest
• the ‘modern painting’ representing the field of battle immediately after the engagement may have been by J.M.W.Turner, who visited the site of the Battle of Waterloo in 1817

Note 2:  On 10 January 2008, I received more of Rev. Barmby's diary from Ms. Daniels; this time a portion from Book 3, which makes reference to Napoleon's wives; Josephine and Marie Louise.  The entire entry is very interesting.  I have added this new material between the portions from Book 1 and Book 5.

We went this morning to the Court Legislatif* which answers to our House of Commons, which is thought to be, and certainly is, a very fine place.   In one of the rooms we saw several fine paintings, one of which interested us nearly as much as any we have seen in Paris;  it represents Hero finding the dead body of Leander on the seashore.

From thence we went a second time to the Hospital of Invalids, and were more successful than the day before.

We met a very old Soldier and Dr. H. stopped him to ask him his age.  He immediately began to recount the succession of Kings under whom he had served, the battles in which he had fought and the many wounds he had received.   He was very warm in his description of the many comforts and enjoyments they had in the Hospital, and said that as to the building it was the grandest in Europe. Dr. H. asked him if he had ever heard of Greenwich Hospital in England, which he thought was a superior building.

The old man immediately took fire at this, and said, with great animation, that their Hospital had been visited by the greatest Kings and Emperors and Generals in Europe, and that they all acknowleged (sic) that neither in Prussia, nor Russia, nor Germany nor England, nor in any part of the world was there such another building to be seen.  The old man was not far wrong, for I have seldom seen this building much surpassed either in exterior or interior splendor (sic).

Dr. H. asked him if he had fought for the Republic and Bonaparte.  The old man shrugged his shoulders and shook his head, and said, 'Oh Yes!  if a soldier w. eat his bread, he must march where he is ordered'.

From hence we went to the Observatory and ascended to the top of it, from whence we had a complete view of  the whole extent of Paris.

It had the appearance of a vast City built in the midst of trees and gardens.

This arises not merely from the great number and extent (of) public walks shaded with trees and the gardens connected with Palaces and other public buildings: But every house of consequence, in the midst of the City, had an extent of gardens and walks belonging to it.   The only entrance is thro’ a large Gate or Door which is opened and closed at pleasure;  a high wall is built round the premises:  these are often extensive, including gardens and pleasure grounds in which a person may be as retired, in the heart of the City, as if he were in the midst of the country.   The windows and walls are guarded;  so that here it may be truly said ‘Every man’s house is his Castle.’

The gardens of the palace of Luxembourg (thro’ which we returned) are very spacious and beautiful and open to the public.

We passed the place where Ney was shot;  and had the spot where the Duke d’Enghien was murdered point out to us from the top of the Observatory.

Our attention was likewise directed to the place where Louis was beheaded.

*Corps Legislatif
 
 

I went to the Cathedral Church of Notre Dame, and was present at the celebration of Mass.

There was a great deal of most delightful singing and music, and so much shew (sic) and splendor (sic) in the whole business that it was very interesting to see it as a grand and attractive spectacle; and, tho’ it is difficult to conceive what useful purposes of Religion can be answered by so much parade, yet the people in general seemed exceedingly attentive, and had a greater appearance of devotion than most congregations in reformed countries.

We took a coach and, attended by Miss Tolson and two other English young Ladies, we rode to St. Cloud and passed altogether the most interesting day we have spent in our travels.  On our way, we were informed by one of the young Ladies that we should not see any of the royal family, as she knew from good authority that the King was at Versailles.  On our arrival there we saw some of the King’s body-guards stationed near the gates, a proof we were told, that the King was at St. Cloud.   In a short time an empty carriage, drawn by 8 (? illegible) most beautiful horses, passed our hotel.  We were told that the King was going to ride and that an empty carriage always preceded him. Another vehicle soon passed by, drawn by six horses.  In this rode the King’s Smiths, to be ready in case of any accident to the royal carriage.  As the King rode at 4 o clock and the hour was approaching, we determined to walk toward the Palace and see him get into his carriage.  On our way and when at some distance from the Palace we heard the sound of trumpets and drums, and were mortified to learn from a French man near us, that this was a signal that the King had set off.

We met an open carriage, drawn by 6 horses, in which were the Duke and Duchess d’Angouleme.  She was an interesting-looking woman, but had a melancholy in her face.  We were told that she always has that appearance and that she is grown a complete Devotee.  We now learnt that the trumpets and drums announced the departure of this part of the royal family, and that the King was not yet gone.

We had an opportunity of gratifying our curiosity, for in a short time a long train of life-guards, gaily caprisoned, advanced at great speed.  They preceded the royal party.  The King, with three or four other gentlemen, was in an open carriage drawn by 8 (?) most beautiful horses.  He was dressed in blue and had a cocked hat:  He looked very well and appeared to us to resemble the royal family of England.  He was followed by an empty carriage, drawn by 8 horses, and a long train of Guards.  It was altogether  a very grand sight, and had an appearance of royal pomp and magnificence such as I had never witnessed before.  There were some slight cries of  ‘vive le Roi’ as he passed;  and a paper was thrown into  the carriage to him, which he caught in his hand.

We were now permitted to go thro’ the Palace, and as we went from one splendid room to another, where every thing had the appearance of imperial wealth and magnificence, and afterwards, when we rambled thro’ the beautiful grounds wch. surround the palace, we cd. not  help frequently expressing our surprise at the folly of Bonaparte for not keeping all this grandeur.

In different parts of the Palace were a number of gentlemen in military uniforms, who appeared to us some of the finest men we ever saw.  None of them seemed to be less than  6 feet high, and they had a grace and elegance in their persons and movements which I never saw surpassed.  We were told they were young men of the first families of France, who were in constant attendance on his Majesty.

The person who shewed us the Palace had a great deal of courtly politeness and, as he conducted from one room to another, said ‘Ladies and Gentlemen, when you have satisfied yourselves with admiring, will you have the complaisance to walk this way?’  Dr. H. wished to see the Duchess d’Angouleme’s apartments:  The man expressed the very great pleasure he shd. have in obliging us, but said that he was quite in despair of having that honour, as the Duchess was expected to return from her ride every moment.

We returned to our hotel and were waited upon by one of the most merry, gay-hearted French girls we ever saw.  We had ordered, among other things, some fried gudgeons, and Dr. H. having, by mistake, made use of a French word of similar sound, which meant fried legs of mutton, the girl was so exceedingly diverted with the mistake that Richard Tolson was obliged to catch her in his arms to prevent her from falling down with laughing.  Dr. H. says that this is the only instance he recollects when his blunder was laughed at by a French person.  During dinner an open carriage, with six horses, drove by with great rapidity.  I saw in  the carriage a gentleman, with a military air, who bowed to the company as he passed;  and every French man in an instant pulled off his hat to the ground, and seemed to gaze after the carriage in mute astonishment.–I remarked immediately that I was convinced it was some person of great distinction; but it was not till a considerable time afterwards that we learned that it was the Duke of Wellington.

What feeling it was that prompted the French men to shew such respect and homage to their Conqueror, who had so completely humbled them, and shorn them of their glory, we cd. not rightly understand.

We are here at the foot of Mont Blanc, which rises almost perpendicularly from the valley to the height of 12,000 feet above our heads which is a greater altitude than the highest peak of the Andes from its base.  Yet above the level of the sea the elevation of the Andes is 19,000 and Mont Blanc is 15,000.  We passed near one of the glaciers last night before we reached this place, but as it was dark, we did not stop our carriage.

This morning we went to see the most celebrated Glacier of the Alps,  called the sea of ice.  We were mounted on mules which carried us part of the way up a very rough and steep ascent, of the difficulties and dangers of which we had heard exaggerated accounts.  We left the mules about midway and were obliged to perform the rest on foot, and neither this part of (the) journey nor the former had anything formidable in it.   The eminence to which we ascended is called Mont enverd (sic) from the verdure of its summit.  It is 5724 feet above the level of the sea.

As we were ascending we heard a frequent roaring, as from the distant discharge of cannon.  The Guides informed us that the noise proceeded from the falling of the ice in the Glaciers above.  On the top of the hill a man and his daughter reside several months in the year, in a rude cabin, for the purpose of accommodating visitors.  Exactly opposite to Mont enverd on which we stood, rises to a perpendicular rock of Granite with sharp points called ‘Les Arguilles (sic) du Don’ or the Needles, to the height 7532 feet above the level of the sea, the summit of which is inaccessible to man and is the sole dominion of birds;  it is frequented by wild partridges and Eagles.

In the valley between these two eminences lies the Glacier we came to see:  and a most surprising sight it is.  It is called ‘the Sea of Ice’;  and has exactly the appearance of the Ocean in a storm.  We cd. see it extending 18 miles above us and down to the valley below, a complete mass of everlasting Ice, generally in the form of waves, sometimes rising in a pyramidal figure to the height of 50, 60 and 100 feet.  We descended to it and walked over some part of it, and found it as hard as a rock.

A little to our right we saw another Eminence, similar to that before us, but much more elevated, towards which the Glaciers extend, which is the boundary of Savoy and Piedmond (sic) in Italy is on the other side.

One of the wonders of this wild scene is that, in the midst of this expanse of ice, there is a garden in a flourishing state.  It is on a rock, which rises as an Island in this Ocean of Ice and is adorned (as the guides informed us) with the choisest (sic) flowers, which grow in a wild state, and bloom in the state of never-ceasing winter.

In the middle of the ice, I observed several exceedingly large rocks and was told, on inquiry, that they had fallen from the mountains above and were continually advancing downwards along with the whole mass of ice: This in fact is continually moving, being forced forward by the weight of mountains of ice above.  It is ascertained to gain a foot a day:  and wd. in the progress of no long time completely overwhelm the valley (upon which it has of late been making great encroachments) if it were not melted, as it advances lower, by the heat of the Sun.

At the summit is a large Book in which all who have ascended thither write their names, and many of them some sentiment of their own or quotation from authors suggested by the situation.   We saw the signatures of the two wives of Bonaparte, who had ascended this hill, and to Josephine’s were annexed the following lines in her own handwriting.

‘Ah! Je sens qu’ ( gap, followed by insert mark) de ces grand phino memes,
‘ De ces tableux touchons de ces terribles scenes.
‘Tout eleve l’esprit, tout occupe les yeux.
‘ Le ceur (sic) seul un moment se repose en ces lieux.’

The following translation of them was attempted by some other visitor and written in the book

‘Mid this dread picture, this majestic scene
‘ Where Nature hath assumed her proudest mien
‘The mind is occupied, the eyes are charm’d
‘The heart alone is frozen and unwarm’d.’

There were other verses no doubt well worth transcribing.  We had time to write out the following only, which struck us, at the moment, as being above the common run:

‘Formidables ramparts d’inegale structure
‘Qu’aux premiers jours du mond eleva la nature
‘Enorme entassement de Rocs audacieux
‘Que l’il surprise voit croire et monter jusqu’aux vieux
‘Depots des longs fumaits que blanchissent vos tetes
‘D’on tompent les torrens on sufflent les vents tempetes
‘Rochers majestieux perdus dans les nuages
‘Je ‘en eleve avec par de (gap, followed by insert mark) les orages
‘Duignez me recevoir sommets religieux
‘On l’esprit des mortels commerce avec les Dieux’

(This ‘above the common run’ piece is, for the most part, difficult to read and the typist’s French is not up to ‘accurate guessing’ level!)

The guides who attended us were very civilized intelligent men.   Dr. Hartley said that one of them spoke the French language with the accent and correctness of a well educated Parisian;  and he was able to answer any question and converse upon any subject.

He told us that he conducted both the wives of Bonaparte to the Glaciers.  Josephine rode on a mule as high as we did, and walked the remainder of the way, up and down, like other Travellers.

Maria Louisa was carried by eight Servants.

He said that Bonaparte had as many as 500 men quartered at the same time for months together at the small village of Chamouny.  We inquired how the men conducted themselves.   He answered ‘Like Soldiers’; that is, as he explained it, They helped themselves to whatever they pleased, as if they were the Masters.

We inquired how they treated the women:  He said the women in that country were sage and discreet;  that they took good care of themselves and wd. not permit the soldiers to come near them.  He said that the instances of a woman falling were very uncommon, and this never happened but in bad families.

When we inquired if they were in a worse state under Bonaparte or the King of Sardinia, he said that, under the French, the trade was free;  but that now they had no trade at all.

Every man has a garden and a small portion of land with his house; and upon these they depend for the maintenance of themselves and families.

We arrived at Brussels, the Capital of (‘the Netherlands’ deleted) Belgium, about 11 o’clock this morning and are at the Hotel of the Duke of Clarence.

Our voyage down the Rhine ended at Cologne. (in the margin:  Cologne was the birthplace of Rubens).  We sailed about 100 miles down this River:  Cologne, where we stopped all night, is a very large town.  A Passenger in the Diligence inform’d us that a very remarkable festival had been lately celebrated there, ‘the exhibition of the Cloth in which our Saviour’s body was wrapped when he was buried.’   This Cloth is annually shewn from the Tower of the Cathedral, for either a week or a fortnight together.  Spectators, who are attracted from far on this occasion, are not allowed to stop longer than one night in the town and there were daily 50,000 strangers at least collected by this circumstance.

The following instance of credulity occurred at the same time.  A wart, which began to make its appearance on my upper lip at the commencement of our travels, has increased to such a size as to make both unsightly and troublesome.

A young French Lady undertook to cure it, and (‘for that purpose’ deleted) pulled some string from her bosom which she wished to apply to my lip for the purpose of removing the excrescence.  The string, she said, was given to her by an old Lady at Mentz who assured her that it had been dipped in our Saviour’s blood.  She had herself experienced its miraculous properties; - for when she was afflicted with a violent headach (sic) and bleeding of the nose at Mentz, the application of this string to the parts affected had instantaneously relieved her.

We passed thro’ Aix la chapelle and stopped all night in this City, which we thought the genteelest place we had lunch, with the exception of Paris.  The heat was so oppressive that Dr. Hartley said he cd. not bear travelling any longer in such weather and must be left behind.

We passed the house (a little before we entered the city) which, we were told, has been engaged, at an enormous price, by the Emperor of Russia, for the meeting of the Congress.

This town seems to be surrounded with public walks under the shade of trees very tastefully arranged;  and the whole appearance of this City and the surrounding country we thought very elegant and interesting.

This part of the country belongs now to the King of Prussia.

We passed through Liege on the Meuse, in the neighbourhood of which we saw as many coal carts as there are near Bradford.  This was a novel sight to us; as hitherto we had seen nothing but wood for fuel.

We were now in the Netherlands;  and saw a different race of people and heard a different language.

Nothing has attracted our notice more, since we entered this country, than the prodigious number of beggars.  In no part of our travels have we met with such crowds of (‘beggars’ deleted) these people as in the Netherlands.  Wherever we stopped we were beset with them and they were noisy and clamorous in the extreme:  (‘In Switzerland’ deleted).  We compared them to a pack of hungry hounds; a great part of them were children and they followed the carriage a great way from the towns and villages;  some whining, some singing, some dancing, some tumbling.  They knew us to be English the moment they saw our faces, and addressed us as such. – One ragged boy followed us a long way, singing and waltzing by the side of the Coach in a most ludicrous manner.  And when he cd. not succeed in obtaining our charity, he put himself into a boxing attitude, which is one of the ways of taking off yr. English.  The common nickname for the English, upon the Continent, is ‘G-- d-- your blood’:  And several beggars have called after us in these words, when we would not relieve them.

The Belgians are exceedingly dissatisfied with being subject to the Dutch, and would have much preferred (they told us) being (‘subject to’ deleted) under the English.  We should have treated them like gentlemen and let them have plenty of trade.

A postilion, who was a great politician, considered the King of the Netherlands as only the Deputy of England; and had no doubt but he gave our government a great deal of money for letting him be King; and he said this was the general opinion.

The people on the Continent seem to consider the English as having the management of all the nations of Europe.

(‘Another of this man’s odd opinions was that before the battle’ deleted),

We had as a passenger in the Diligence a very intelligent Gentleman, a native of Brussels, who gave us some particulars of the state of things during the battle of Waterloo.

No language can describe or imagination conceive the confusion and consternation of the place before the issue of the battle was known.  They anticipated nothing but the success of the French and the dreadful consequences.

He is a married man with a family; and he declared that his own feelings were so agitated the his hair turned grey in one night.

He mentioned the Scotch Soldiers as being particularly beloved at Brussels and he spoke of them in a manner the most respectful and affectionate.

He told us that, after the battle, those families in which they  had been quartered were in such a state of affliction on their account, that they ran to the field of battle, like distracted Parents in search of their own children.  And after the business was over, while the Germans and Prussians and other soldiers were boasting of their exploits, the brave Scotch, tho’ they had been in the hottest of the engagement and performed prodigies of valour, were quiet and modest and never heard to talk of their own exploits.

Another gentleman had before given us a similar description of these troops.

There were 2500 wounded soldiers at one time in Brussels; and the first Ladies in the place were employed in dressing the wounds and attending on the sick.

This gentleman, notwithstanding his dread of the success of the French, said that things even now are in a worse state in Belgium, than they had been under the French.  Provisions are as dear as before and there is scarcely any trade.  This he attributes to the bad state of the Police and the laws not being put in force.

We have met with very few people who have expressed any great abhorrence of Bonaparte, but numbers who will not hear him abused.

The Ladies seem to espouse his cause full (sic) as warmly as the men.  We breakfasted in our travels at the Hotel of the Duke of Wellington and a young French lady said it was a pity he was not killed at the battle of Waterloo instead of one of his Aides de camp.  Dr. H. expostulated with her upon the shockingness of such a sentiment and the want of loyalty to her King which it shewed.  She denied that she was disloyal; but confessed that she regretted the downfall of Bonaparte and said that Louis was not the King of France but the Duke of Wellington.

Dr. H. endeavoured to convince another young French Lady that they ought to think themselves much obliged to the English for assisting them to recover their own King.  She took fire at this;  and said the French considered themselves under no obligation to the English;  that they knew nothing about Louis and did not want him for their King.  She said that she hated the English:  she had several Brothers who had nothing to do, owing to the peace, and that they all wished for and soon would have another war with our Country.

Among the great number of postilions, bargemen, guides, hostlers, waiters and travellers we have been concerned with during our travels, we have scarcely met with an Individual who has not been a conscript in Bonaparte’s armies;  and we thought we discovered in them all a bias in his favour.  Indeed (as I may have remarked before) we have nowhere met with that abhorrence of his system and execration of his name which might have been expected to prevail upon the Continent.

We saw here a noble collection of paintings of all the great Masters of the Flemish School as well as of other Artists;  and we had the opportunity of seeing many of the stolen pictures (some of the finest in the Collection) with which Bonaparte adorned the Louvre – now restored to their rightful owners.

In the collection we saw a modern painting representing the field of battle immediately after the engagement.

The old man who explained these paintings to us, in pointing our attention to the different troops, abused the Russians and Prussians exceedingly, calling them ‘beast and savages’ and said that they behaved ill in their quarters:  But burst out into an exclamation of admiration and praise of the Scotch Soldiers;  and with tears in his eyes expatiated upon their amiable qualities and noble characters. ‘si braves, si bonnes, si douces, si trqanquilles, si patients’!

The Scotch are almost adored in this country.  I mentioned this circumstance to an English Officer we met with in our travels.  He said, ‘it was the same on every part of the continent, - and they deserved it, they were so civil and accommodating in their quarters and so brave in the field.’

At our hotel a wounded Scotch (‘soldier’ deleted) Officer was confined for several months after the battle;  in a most deplorable state.   He was waited upon, by day and by night, by the daughter of our Host (a very interesting young woman) during the whole of the time with ceaseless attention:  he was as helpless as a child and she supplied him with every mouthful of refreshment that he took.

He at length so far recovered that he was able to return to England;  and the young woman had received from him two letters expressing his deep and grateful sense of her extraordinary attention and kindness to him.  These letters she preserved with great care and is so proud of them that she shews them to every Englishman she meets with and requests that they may be read to her in French;  as she cannot read them herself in English.

We saw them;  they contain very proper sentiments;  but appeared to us to be written in the style of a foreigner utterly ignorant of the idiom of  our language;  from which we concluded he was a Highlander who understood English imperfectly. – Our host had reason to believe that the poor man was since dead. – and we were sorry to learn that he had not been paid anything for their great trouble and expense. – He would not, however, harbour a thought for a moment that the Officer was to blame.  He said he was ‘a brave, noble, good Gentleman’ and they wd. do as much again for him, if they never received the least remuneration. – Dr. H. endeavoured to put him into the way of applying to his friends.

We see a greater number of English here than in any part of our travels, excepting Paris.  We think almost every Lady and Gentleman of fashion we meet are our own country people.

The female costume of this country is singular and is much admired by some of our party. It resembles the dress of Nuns as we often see them represented in pictures. A long black veil reaches from their heads to the ground, exactly like the Madonna in my profession.

We observed an advertisement for a grand Féte and Ball on Sunday next;  for which great preparations are making.

It is well known that the Duke of Wellington and many of the British Officers were at a Ball given by the Duchess of Richmond on the evening when the news of the approach of the French arrived at Brussels.  At midnight the bugle sounded and the drum beat to arms; and many of them went to battle in their ballroom dresses.

We had great pleasure in repeating on the spot Lord Byron’s fine description of this event.

‘There was a sound of revelry by night
And Belgium’s capital had gather’d then
Her beauty and her chivalry, and bright
The lamps shone o’er fair women and brave men;
A thousand hearts beat happily;  and when
Music arose with its voluptuous swell,
Soft eyes look’ d love to eyes which spake again
And all went merry as a marriage-bell,
But hush! hark! a deep sound strikes like a rising knell.

‘Did ye not hear it?  No.  ‘twas but the wind
Or the car rattling o’er the stony street;
On with the dance!  let joy be unconfined;
No sleep till morn, when Youth and Pleasure meet
To chase the glowing hours with flying feet –
But hark!  that heavy sound breaks in once more,
As if the clouds its echo would repeat:
And nearer, clearer, deadlier than before!
Arm!  arm!  it is the cannon’s opening roar.

**************************************

‘Last noon beheld them full of lusty life;
Last eve in beauty’s circle proudly gay;
The midnight brought the signal-sound of strife
The morn the marshalling in  arms, - the day
Battle’s magnificently stern array!
 

Brussels is a very handsome City and looks like the ancient Capital of some great Empire.  The streets are much wider and more elegant (the public buildings excepted) than those of Paris.  One of the Squares is said to be the finest in Europe for its antiquity.

There is a great peculiarity in the buildings which gives it more decidedly the appearance of a foreign town than any we have seen before.  In dipping into a little book which I happen to see here I find the following description of the Architecture.  M. Dumuis has described in a few words the kind of Architecture which distinguishes the buildings of the Low Countries.  In general (he says) the style of Architecture and the ornaments of Sculpture which pervade most of the public buildings is of a peculiar kind.  It is a mixture of the Moorish with the Gothic;  which astonishes more by its boldness, grandeur and lightness, than the beauty of design or harmony of its proportions.  This kind of Architecture was taken from the Spaniards, by whom it was borrowed from the Moors who had introduced it into Spain.
 
 

Richard Tolson and myself hired a one horse carriage this morning, for the purpose of going to view the field of battle at Waterloo.  As Dr. H had been there two years before he did not attend us.

Our road lay thro’ the Forest of Soignies, whose thick shade was, as we went and returned, a most welcome screen from the excessive heat of the sun and contributed very much to the pleasantness of our excursion.

I had formed a pretty good idea of the road thro’ this forest from Scott’s Poem, in which the description of it is very accurate.

‘Thy wood, dark Soignies, holds us now
Where the tall beeches’ glossy bough
For many a league around,
With birch and darksome oak between
Spreads deep and far a pathless screen
Of tangled forest gtround:

‘Stems planted close by stems defy
Th’adventurous foot;  the curious eye
For access seeks in vain;
Ad the brown tapestry of leaves
Strew’d on the blighted ground receigves
Nor sun, nor air, nor rain.

‘No opening glade dawns on our way
No streamlet glancing to the ray
Our woodland path hath cross’d,
And the straight causeway which we tread
Prolongs a line of dull Arcade
Unvarying thro’ th’unvaried shade
Until in distance lost.’

Through this sort of scene we travelled for many a mile, till at length we saw an opening, and by and by,at a distance, a hamlet and a spire, which we found to be the village and the Church of Waterloo.

We stopped our carriage opposite the church and went into it, but as we found a congregation at their morning prayers, we did not stop long.  It is a small village church and is filled with plain monuments in memory of different Officers who fell in the late battle.

Near it is a neat cottage with a garden before it.  This is the cottage to which the Marquis of Anglesea was brought after he received his wound.  I think our guide said that he himself was present when the  amputation took place.  The Marquis conversed cheerfully during the operation and no alteration in his countenance cd. be observed.  He said ‘It is worth while losing a leg for such a victory.’ ‘He had on silk stockings and these shoes, just as he came from the ball;  in which he had left out of doors in deep mud and amidst incessant rain.’  Many of the Officers were starved to death from their circumstances.  The leg is buried in the garden, and a monument erected.

About a mile from Waterloo is the hamlet of St. Jean, near which the last decisive battle (illegible deletion here) took place.  We drove to the Inn at this village and, having breakfasted, engaged a guide who attended us over the field of battle.  He was well qualified to answer all our questions and explain to us whatever was worthy of our notice.

We were interested beyond measure in surveying the different parts of the field distinguished by remarkable events during the battle, about which we had read and heard so much.

We saw the spot where General Picton and Ponsonby fell, where the Marquis of Anglesea was wounded; - the point where the Prussians made their appearance – where the Scotch Infantry stood like a wall when charged by the Imperial Guards and the Scotch Cavalry were stationed when they attracted the admiration of Bonaparte – Bonaparte’s station during the latter part of the engagement in the hollow of the road we of course examined.  The situation protected him, by the rising banks on each side, from all such balls as did not come in a straight line.  The Duke of Wellington’s situation during the whole of the engagement was in one of the most exposed parts of the field.  We were surprised to observe how near they were to each other.  The tree, near which he stood and which is now called by his name, will not stand long.  It was dreadfully shattered during the engagement, and it since has had not only all its branches cut away by visitors but is also almost entirely stripped of its bark.

The farm of La Haye Sainte and the Chateau of Hougoumont, the two places that were so obstinately contested during the whole of the day, still bear marks of the hot engagements that took place about them.  Every part of the walls and doors of the Farm are indented and shattered with bullets and balls, and the floor and beams of the barn we saw stained with blood.

The effects were still more visible in the shattered appearance of every hedge and tree and walk about the Chateau of Hougoumont.

It is well known that the French, unable to get possession of this station, succeeded near the conclusion of the day in setting fire to the building.  The house was burnt down and the flames were communicated to a Chapel adjoining it, at that time filled with wounded English Soldiers.  The roof was on fire and the flames were bursting thro’ the door.  Immediately over the door is an Image of  our Saviour hanging on the Cross and it is a singular circumstance that as soon as the flames reached this Image they stopped and did no further damage.  We saw the toes of the figure scorched with the fire and every other part completely uninjured, and when our guide directed our attention to this circumstance, he said, ‘You see, that was a miracle.’  Among other things we inquired for the two solitary trees (mentioned by Lord Byron) beneath which Major Howard died and was buried.  The trees had been cut down;  but the small hollow where his body was laid was pointed out to us.

‘Their praise is hymn’d by loftier harps than mine
Yet one I would select from that proud throng
Partly because they blend me with his line
And partly that I did his sire some wrong
And partly that bright names will hallow song
And his was of the bravest, and when  shower‘d
The death-bolts deadliest the thinn’d files along
Even where the thickest of war’s tempest lower’d
They reach’d no nobler breast than thine
young, gallant Howard!

3rd Canto,  Stanz. 29 (Childe Harold)

The Guide is an Inhabitant of the village of St. Jean.  He was there during the whole of the engagement.  Most of the Inhabitants fled before the battle into the Forest of Soignies.

He told us that some English Officers had been surveying the ground some time before and had remarked what a suitable place it would be for a field of battle. and it is reported that the Duke of Wellington had said that if he fought with Bonaparte he shd. like to meet him there.

The armies were stationed on the ridge of two eminences exactly opposite to each other;  that occupied by the English aout a mile and a half in extent – the opposite one about 2 miles:  The breadth of the valley between them varies between half a mile and three quarters.  It is said to be the smallest ground in extent ever remembered for the engagement of two such numerous armies.

We thought the ground occupied by the English the most advantageous as it is more elevated and appeared favourable in other respects.  And it is probable that the Duke of Wellington was of this opinion from his anxiety that this should be the scene of action.

Lord Byron says ‘ I went on horseback twice over the field comparing it with my recollection of similar scenes.  As a place, Waterloo seems to be marked out for the scene of some great action, tho’ this may be more imagination:  I have viewed with attention those of Platea, Troy, Mantinea, Leuctra, Chaevronae and Marathon;  and the field around Mount St. Jean and Hougoumont appears to want little but that undefinable but impressive halo which the lapse of ages throws around a celebrated spot, to view in interest with any or all of these, except perhaps the last mentioned.’

We could not help being exceedingly struck with the tranquil appearance of everything around us:  We only saw a few peasants and some children with a few fragments of the battle which they had picked up in the field:  And we could scarcely conceive that this had so lately been the scene of embattled nations  and of  one of the most memorable and sanguinary engagements in the History of the World.

Flanders has been said long ago to be the grave of the brave; as it contains scarcely a spot of ground that has not been deluged with blood.  Its just title to the character will not be diminished by late events:  Eighty thousand men were buried on the field of Waterloo;  and our guide directed our attention to a spot where 4000 men, besides horses, were thrown together into one grave.

The  grass was now growing, rank and luxuriant on the earth that covered them.  We saw many human bones still lying on various parts of the field.

We were told that four days after the battle the wounded and the dying were still lying in the field, unable to get attendance and calling out to the peasants to kill them.  The Prussians, it is said, amused themselves with hacking and mutilating the dying French.  Common sufferings, which have usually the effect of softening animosities and reconciling enemies, had no such influence upon the French and Prussians for they were heard to curse each other with their dying breath and were seen grinning in each other’s faces in their last agonies.

The wounded French Soldiers fared the worst and were the last to obtain medical assistance;  but their disasters and extreme suffering did not seem to abate, in the least, their zeal in the cause and their attachment to their General.  Our guide related to us an anecdote of a French Soldier whose arm it was necessary to amputate.  No sooner was the shattered arm cut off than the man eagerly seized it with his other hand and, waving it in the air, shouted out, ‘Vive l’Empereur!  Vive Napoleon!’ with the most enthusiastic ardour.

Our guide joined in the general sentiment of admiration of the Scotch troops.  He said they were the finest troops in the field and behaved the most gallantly in the battle, excepting the Belgians (his own countrymen).  He gave us an account of a Scotch Lady whom he had lately conducted over the field whose husband had fallen in the battle.  She was a very young woman and had been married only a year, when her husband was killed.  He said he never witnessed such distress as that of this unfortunate widow.  She wept and talked in the wildest manner, inquiring for her husband’s grave and behaved altogether like a woman distracted and almost heartbroken with grief.  She threw herself upon the ground, clinging to it and kissing it,and it was with the greatest difficulty they cd. raise her up and prevail upon her to quit the place.  The poor man dwelt upon this subject, which seemed to have made a deep impression upon him, for a long time,and described what had passed with a good deal of natural eloquence, which even to me, who cd. understand little but his action, was very affecting.

I will put down, without order, a few more particulars respecting the battle whidh we learnt in the neighbourhood. They are probably well known and have been often mentioned.

Bonaparte had promised his soldiers the pillage of Brussels for 26 hours;  some say, for 6 days.  This information was given by the Prisoners.

Dr. H. once travelled in a coach with a person who said he was House Steward in the Palace near Brussels which belongs to the King of the Netherlands.  This man assured him that Bonaparte had ordered a grand Supper to be ready for himself and his Generals at the Palace on the evening of the battle, making himself certain of victory.  During our absence at Waterloo this day Dr. H. went to see the palace and wishing to ascertain the truth of this information, he asked the head-gardener the question, who assured him that it was a fact.  He likewise told him that it was certainly true that Bonaparte had written a letter from the field of battle which was dated at the Palace.

He had made no arrangement whatever in the event of a retreat;  and this contributed to the dispersion and destruction of his armies.

It was the expectation of Bonaparte that  the English would retire in the night.  When he saw them at the dawn of the day in the same position he could not contain his joy,  ‘Ah! je les tiens donc, ces Anglois!’

This information comes from Lacoste.  A farmer, so called, who lives near the field of battle was siezed by the French and carried to Napoleon, who mounting him on horseback, tying him to the saddle and giving the bridle into the hands of a trooper compelled him to act as guide.

Before any of the French troops were in their positions Bonaparte ascended a  neighbouring eminence and acquainted himself with every feature of the surrouding country.  His inquisitiveness knew no bounds.  Not an inequality of the ground, not a hedge escaped him.  He was employed in this preparation 4 or 5 hours and every observation was carefully noted in a map which he carried in his hand.

The following were some of his observations during the battle.

‘What brave troops;  it is a pity to destroy them!  But I shall beat them at last.’

‘These English are Devils;  will they never be beaten?’  A moment afterwards he added, ‘I shall beat them yet; but it is a pity to destroy such brave troops.’

When Dr. H. was at Waterloo two years ago, Lacoste himself was his guide.  From his journal I extract the following additional particulars.

‘During the general battle (Lacoste told us) that Bonaparte frequently broke out into exclamations of
praise of the Scotch Greys for their gallant conduct and dexterity in the field.   ‘Regardez ces chevaux gris!’ – In one of their positions the cannon balls flew about them like hailstones.  Bonaparte shewed not the least fear, and, seeing Lacoste ducking, for fear they should hit him, he said ‘Don’t flinch my friend, a shot wil kill you as well behind as in the front.’

‘Lacoste said that Bonaparte never appeared during the whole of the battle in the smallest degree agitated till he saw the Prussians coming out of the wood; but that then ‘il palit comme la morte’ he grew pale as death andnoticed the circumstance to Bertrand.

‘He then ordered the guards to make their last desperate attack.  He advanced with them a short way, and then stopped, crying out,  ‘En avant,en avant!’  Most of the guards were slain.  As soon as he saw everything going against him, he turned his horse about, saying, ‘C’est fine; sauvons nous’, and then galloped off, taking Lacoste before them on a horse,  at full speed.  They were stopped at Genappe nearly an  hour on account of the road being blocked up by waggons, baggage, etc.  A little farther on, Bonaparte and his staff alighted for the first time about 3 oclock in the morning of the 19th, made a fire, sat down round it and drank some wine.  Bertrand then gave Lacoste a Napoleon and dismissed him on foot.  The poor man had never tasted anything from 4 oclock of the morning of the 18th to that time;  nor did he observe Bonaparte to take anything except snuff all the day.’
 

*****************

The Duke of Wellington and old Blucher met at a small Inn called ‘la  belle Alliance’ after the victory.   They embraced each other most cordially and the interview was very affecting.

We went into this Inn and drank a bottle of wine.

From hence the Prussians went in pursuit of the French.  The English gave them three cheers as they passed.  The Dke of W. then led his army by moonlight over the field of battle to his former position; and was so affected that he was seen to burst into tears.

P.S. Lacoste’s narrative to other inquirers was more minute than it seems to have been to Dr. Hartley.

The following were some of Bonaparte’s exclamations.

‘How steadily these troop take their ground!   How beautifully those cavalry form!  Observe those grey horses!  Are they not noble troops?  Yet in half an hour I will cut them to pieces.’

After he had exclaimed, ’Il faut que nous sauvons,’ he retreated with his staff about 40 yards and halted for a moment near ‘La Belle Alliance’, when putting his glass to his eye he saw the Scotch Greys furiously cutting down the French troops, he cryed out ‘Qu’ils son terribles ces chevaux gris!’  How terrible are these grey horses!  Il faut nous depecher, nous depecher.- We must decamp, must decamp.’

We congratulated ourselves on our return to Brussels that we had not passed forward on our journey (as we had almost determined to do) without visiting the field of Waterloo.  We agreed that our gratification from what we had seen on this day was greater, upon the whole, than on any former occasion.  The scene of the wonderful battle is connected with reflections peculiarly interesting to the feelings of Englishmen:  And it is not perhaps too much to anticipate that it will be visited with increasing interest by the latest posterity as one of the most memorable spots on the earth, with sentiments flattering to the British Nation – with admiration of our achievements and with gratitude for our services.
 
 

We set out from Brussels in the Diligence, and passing thro’ several large fortified towns of which Tournay was the principal, we entered French Flanders, we passed thro’ Lisle (at which we stopped for two nights) thro’ Dunkirk and Calais, and have reached Dover this day at 1 o clock, after a passage of somewhat less than 3 hours.

On the back of this final page, the Rev. James Barmby lists:

Dover
Clapham
Rochester
Woolwich
Greenwich
Blackheath
London