t a hurried
account of our visit to the great battle field of Europe. We were all up
early in the morning, and, after an excellent breakfast, we engaged a
carriage and pair of horses for the day. The distance is about twelve
miles. After riding about two miles, we found the road touched the
Forest of Soignies, so well known in consequence of Byron's description
of the march of the army from Brussels to Waterloo. On the way we met
several guides, who commended their services to our notice, backed up by
testimonials of former travellers. We selected Pirson, and he took his
place beside the driver, and we arrived in two hour at the village.
Passing by what is called a museum, we addressed ourselves at once to a
survey of the field. There are no signs of the past, excepting in
monuments and houses that are famous for their being occupied by the
hostile parties during the battle. We turned our attention first to the
Chateau of Hougomont, because, from our knowledge of the transactions of
the great day, we regarded it as the grand point of attraction, and the
central one for our observations. This farm is an old-looking affair,
with out-buildings--a small chapel, twelve or fifteen feet long, and the
garden and orchard, having a strong stone wall around them. This was the
strong point of the British army; and if Napoleon could have gained it,
he would have turned the flank of the enemy. To this he directed all his
power, and the marks of the conflict are yet very apparent. All day the
attack was made, upon the farm by thousands, under the command of Jerome
Bonaparte. The wall was pierced with loopholes, and through these the
English Coldstream Guards kept up a most destructive fire upon the
French troops. The exterior of the wall still shows what a terrific
onset was made. We went into the house, obtained some refreshment,
bought some relics, and, among other things, a neat brass crucifix,
which hung against the wall. We then, went to look at the farms La Belle
Alliance and La Haye Sainte--the famous mound where the dead were
interred, and which is surmounted by the Belgic lion. This is an immense
work, two hundred feet high; and from the summit we saw the entire
field. Of course, we all had our feelings excited at standing on a spot
where the two greatest soldiers of Europe measured swords, and had a
continent for spectators of the conflict.

When the French army marched through Waterloo, on their way to Antwerp,
in 1831, the