him to moulder with his brethren in arms. Having vented his rage, I
asked him if the French had ever got within the walls. "Yes," he said,
"three times; but they were always repulsed"; he assured me he had been
there during the attack and that he saw them within; but added, "How
they came in at that door" (pointing to the gate by which we were
standing and which was drilled with bullets), "or when they came in, or
how or where they got out I cannot tell you, for what with the noise,
and the fire, and the smoke, I scarcely knew where I was myself."

[Illustration: LA BELLE ALLIANCE.

_To face p. 267._]

One of the farm servants begged me to observe the chapel, which he
hinted had been indebted to a miracle for its safety, and certainly as a
good Catholic he had a fair foundation for his belief, as the flames
had merely burnt about a yard of the floor, having been checked, as he
conceived, by the presence of the crucifix suspended over the door,
which had received no other injury than the loss of part of its feet. He
had remained there till morning, when, seeing the French advance and
guessing their drift, he contrived to make good his escape, but returned
the following day. What he then saw you may guess when I tell you that
at the very door I stood upon a mound composed of earth and ashes upon
which 800 bodies had been burnt. Every tree bore marks of death, and
every ditch was one continued grave.

From Hougoumont we walked to La Belle Alliance,[111] crossing the
neutral ground between the armies; a few days ago a couple of gold
watches had been found, and I daresay many a similar treasure yet
remains. At La Belle Alliance, a squalid farm house, we rested to take
some refreshment. For a few biscuits and a bottle of common wine the
woman asked us five francs, which being paid, I followed her into the
house. Not perceiving me at the door, she met her husband, and bursting
into a loud laugh, with a fly-up of arms and legs (for nothing in this
country is done without gesticulation), she exclaimed, "Only think! ces
gens-la m'ont donne cinq francs." In this miserable pot-house did the
possessor find 280 wounded wretches jammed together and weltering in
blood when he returned on Monday morning. If I proceed to more
particulars I foresee I should fill folios.

I must carry you at once to La Haye Sainte.[112] It was along a hedge
that the severest work took place; it made me shudder to think that upon
a space of fifty squar