PRIVATE CORRESPONDENCE OF A WOM.A.N FASHI ON.
Tins was probably intended from the first for the public : it is, ne- vertheless, the composition of a woman of rank, or at least of what is called good society ; and will be considered very light and agree- able reading, by those who are tolerably well acquainted with the persons and events of the last quarter of a century. With such readers, it is possible the dashes and the initials will furnish a set of agreeable charades,—the more interesting, that their solution, instead of unfolding an abstract term, discloses a morsel of gossip. Though the actual letters of this correspondence-may be ficti- tious, the observations are not: the writer existed where she pre- tends to have been at the time ; and a woman both of talent and taste forms a very pleasant guide and companion through many eventful scenes. The date of the earliest letter is 1814. After indulging in the English gossip of that day, at Brighton and, London, connected with the visits of the Kings and Emperors to this country, and the exile of NAPOLEON, she goes abroad. At Paris, we have the gossip of that metropolis, under the heavy reign of the restored King, and the subsequent fright and flight on the return of NAPOLEON. The scene shifts to Brussels, and. remains there during the interesting months that preceded the battle of Waterloo, and the eventful moments which followed upon it. We are then taken to Paris; and the work brings us back to England at the epoch of the Queen's Trial. During the whole of this time, the writer appears to have mixed with the principal ac- tors in these pregnant events, and gives us at least lively descrip- tions of their external bearing. The part which has chiefly in- terested us, is the.portion embracing the letters from Brussels prep vious to the battle of Waterloo : the picture of those stirring times is excellent, and not the less so that the character there given of the Belgians—treacherous, cowardly, and turbulent—has been justified by every succeeding event. The first letter, dated the day after the battle of Waterloo, is te• fair sample of the rest : we will give a portion- of it—the interest is never-dying.
On the first day we had so little idea of the vicinity of the engagement, that:f drove out with a Belgian family in an open carriage towards the Bois de Soig., nies. But we were obliged to retreat precipitately, and take another direction across the country, and...pass through a different barriarc through the town te my residence. They wished me to accept an instant asylum with them. The house of Monsieur d'H— was built over part of the old palace; and he had prepared one of the extensive caves for his family, in the event of the town being given up to the sword and rapine. I promised to avail myself of their kind offer, should the peril become more urgent ; but I resolved to remain another day in our villa. Towards five the following morning, I was roused from the sofa on which I had thrown myself, by the trampling of horses, and the cries of the people of the suburbs. I flew to the window, and beheld a troop of Belgians in full flight, covered, not with glory, but with dust, galloping towards the town ! I heard the-gates close against them, and saw them scamper o'er the plain towards Lacken. The mob increased ; their shrieks of-terror rent the air, —"Les Francois sont ici ! lls s'emparent de la porte de la sae!" mingled with the cries of the women, and with those of my little household, who all rushed into my chamber, expecting me to save them. In the midst of this terror, I heard the well-known voice of the commander of the town, Colonel Jones, vociferating with all the energy and passion of a Welchman. In myths. traction, I ran out to him ; he stormed, and explained in no gentle terms, that it was a false alarm, caused by the sudden nervous affection ot the troop of Belie gians I had seen in flight. He commanded. me to quit my house and kindly! sent me a carriage to secure my entrance into the town. We were house, in the hurry of quitting our rural abode, by the arrived of some thousands of British troops; many of the poor fellows, heated and languid, entered asking for water to quench their thirst. From them I learnt that they had returned to England from America,.and, without being permitted to land, were immediately ordered to Ostend. I felt what might be their influence on the fate of that day, and selfishly partook of their impatience to arrive on the field of battle. The whole of Saturday we believed the battle lost;. and there are-those who think that it was, but for the mysterious conduct of Grouchy, or the-treason of the estafettes sent to summon him to advance. The English-families continued to fly towards Ostend : the roads and inns were crowded; the living bewailing,tlaeir temerity, close to the chambers of the dead ! Your brother and sister were at Antwegt, in the next room to the um. fortunate Due de Brunswick. The awful hours passed tardily with me, in pans for the soldier and his chiefs. 'On Saturday the 17th, to add to the accumulat- lag horrors &our critical situation, the very elements vented forth their wrath, in the most tremendous thunder and lightning ; the rain poured in torrents; all nature was at fearful strife, and God's anger was apparent ; for it seemed as if the very heavens were warring against man's quarrel ; and in my agony I ex- claimed with Macbeth-
'Twas a rough night—"
asI listened ao the pelting storm, crouching on a mattress by the side of my weeping ensigree, imploring me for words of comfort. Towards morning the rain abated, but gloomy clouds ushered in that eventful day. At two o'clock I dined with Monsieur d'11—, whose daughter-in-law, la Cointesse de P—'s first-born son, had seen the light of this world only a few hours before. While at dinner, the servants rushed into the room in disorder, exclaiming, " All is over ! A detachment of dragoons, which passed a few hours ago to join the enemy, are returned." We rose precipitately ; M. d'H— took a key from a drawer, and commanded us to follow him. We traversed rapidly the chamber of the invalid lady, each inconsiderately repeating to her—" All is lost ! " We descended a dilapidated staircase, and passing through a small trap-door, what was my astonish- ment when I found myself in the park! There we beheld the said detachment of dragoons—an affrighted mob; and many sinisteMooking persons, who seemed well satisfied at the evidence of our fears. The gentlemen rushed out of the adjoining café, _ the English calling for their servants and horses (many of whom, by the way, who had never possessed any); one of these fainted—no heart of oak was he, when our ancient Briton the commandant, Colonel Jones, again presented himself, v if et emporte. The spectators exclaimed—" Que celu venuit de la trey rapide circulation de son sang. ' N'importe : the choleric Colonel, blustering, restored us to comparative tranquillity, as he brandished on high his sword, giving it an after-sweeping movement, as if to moissonner no thes ; my valiant compatriot extended on the pavement was the only head in security. The Colonel commanded the misled dragoons to return ; and it appeared that they had encountered some miscreants, disguised as British officers, who gave them a forged official order to retreat, " the battle being lost ! " We descended through our trap-door, and reassured our friend the Cointesse, who seemed to have received our intelligence (en passant) with as perfect calmness as that in which lay her new-born babe.
To add to my discomfort, deep and loud were the murmurs on Sunday against the Duke. The merchants said his Grace ought not to have lingered in the salons of amusement one instant after he lied been apprized that Napoleon had quitted Paris, whose gigantic strides all Europe had experienced during many long years. They even denounced his life ; while others, more moderate but equally incensed, had commenced a written remonstrance to the British government : in such an excited state were men's minds! Victory silenced these despairing murmurs—success caste its vivid radiance o'er the hero's fame ; whit so potent as its influence ! Prosperity with its magic wand can transform vice into virtue, stupidity into wit, and endows with new talents its favoured object. It is a potent drug that caste a charm o'er the fascinated eyes of us worldlings, and lulls Our spleen to sleep. • I took leave of my Belgian friends, who promised to come for me (in case of a fatal termination) to share their safety, and partake of the good cheer they had prepared for our seclusion in the devastated cares of that palace, which in olden time were filled with the finest produce of Rhenish vintages. At three o'clock entered the good Abbe Bernard, holding up to view a paper with large charac- ters imprinted—" The French flying l—the City saved !_Victory!" Never shall I forget my sensations at that joyful, yet awful moment of restored peace to mankind ! The bells of the different churches chimed the exhilarating note of victory ! The good priest announced that Te Deem was celebrating, and invited use to accompany them to the noble cathedral, St. Gudule. "What signify forms? " the good man said : "let us lift up our hearts in grateful thanksgiving to the only true God ! " That noble temple of the Almighty was already thronged. Voices, so late stricken in terror, now soared aloft in celestial sounds to the throne of Heaven !—all was congratulation. But alas ! profound regrets soon mingled with my joyful sensations, as I cast my eyes around, and encountered only mangled objects, who, chilled and exhausted, were crowding into the town (and are still arriving on this, the sixth day). We were addressed, with solicitations, by enfeebled heroes, to be shown to hospitals. We found it impossible to return to our villa, from the confusion of military baggage, &c. ; while the English, even females of rank, with eager curiosity, were hastening to the scene of carnage. The noise of their chariot-wheels, mingling with the moans of the dying, and the cries of parents and relatives in search of their sons and their kindred, formed a scene that must have moved the coldest heart, and that never can be effaced from my memory!
In traversing La Grande Place, I was attracted to a kind of military vehicle, by the voice of plaintive distress, appealing for my succour, reiterating the word compatriotc. On approaching, I beheld a handsome and interesting-looking female in equestrian costume ; by her side were two servants, and two very fine saddle-horses. A tent and sonic baggage-waggons, belonging to some regiment, appeared to be included in her train. She announced herself to me as the wife of Captain —, Aid-de-Camp to General C—: by sonic mistake of orders, fatal to her peace of mind, the baggage of her husband's regiment had not been included in the general orders for following the army. Anguish was expressed On her fine countenance. She knew only that we were victorious; but she knew not whether her husband was to be numbered with the dead or with the living. She was without resource, and unacquainted with the French language. She appealed to my protection, and pointed to her servants to corroborate her statement. Fatigued in mind as I was, yet how impossible to hesitate an instant! I immediately conducted her to the librarian who gave me a room; and I sent for refreshments, and fain would have persuaded her to attempt seeking some re- pose ;_ but her mental sufferings were too great to permit her to remain tranquil. She declared that nothing should prevent her following the army to Paris, be- seeching me to obtain permission for her to ride on with the first detachment that quitted the city. I was obliged to comply, for there is no reasoning with the anxious mind of an attached wife ; and I presented myself before our choleric commandant. Being in black, I was mistaken for a hapless widow, and all pressed to offer me service. I found Captain W—, who immediately inter- ested himself; and I had the supreme pleasure of not only obtaining an escort, but of receiving the certain assurance of her gallant husband's safety. She spent the evening with us, and created a general interest. She had accompa- nied her husband in the campaigns in Spain, soon after a marriage purentent d'inclination. Captain —had been brought up to the bar; but the mania i of war seized him, and he preferred figuring n the Army List, and practising military tactics, to studying Burn's Justice and Blackstone's Commentaries. She would not lose sight of her new friend ; and at four o'clock on Tuesday morning I conducted her to the Porte de Namur, where I found the promised escort with two officers, to whom I could consign her with confidence. She sprang into her saddle with an alacrity that expressed she was going to join the husband of her affection • and she promised to present him to sue in Paris.
Old CL--, one of the" all-talented Whigs," who you know is half a buffoon, was a torment to us during the fearful period of the three days—running to and fro, standing in every body's way, seeking and reporting news, exclaiming, "But the battle cannot be lost--I do not see the army in retreat," &c. &c. At length, the battle o'er, England victorious, the Duke on Monday rode quietly into Bruxelles, to make arrangements for the wounded, &c. C— rushes to Ins apartment to make his compliments. "Thirty thousand men lost," replied the Duke.
"But what a-victory!' "4 Thirty thousand men killed !—hard case!" still answered the Duke, with his usual simplicity of expression when speaking of his own exploits. C—, who knew not what diffidence was, nor could discover its merits in another, re- treated in evident disappointment at his compliments of felicitation having the appearance of being so little appreciated ; almost doubtful whether Wellington, was in truth a hero, or whether the battle was really gained. The interiors of the churches are divided into stalls, the wounded placed* in them on layers of straw, and women and surgeons are seen administering to. their ills. The Belgians have thrown open their houses, and officers and sol- diers are promiscuously placed in their decorated salons, and served with equal. assiduity.. The French seemed to have fought with redoubled rancour on these terrible days ; even the nature of the wounds are without parallel in history. The light carts I saw preparing sonic weeks since, were sent off to the frontiers; therefore, to add to.the sufferings of these, brave men, they are brought in upon the rough waggons employed in agriculture. This is the sixth day, and they are still arriving in all kinds of conveyances. Our carriage was stopped in la Rue de Montague lest evening ; the cause originated in two waggous filled with the wounded and the dying, recently discovered ! Some of the inhabitants, with candles, were groping anxiously in search of their relations, and adminis- tering various restoratives to those they knew not, until another church could be hastily prepared to receive them. Hundreds of French prisoners are brought in—many of them quite boys, and in peasants' habits, apparenry freed by cruel conscriptions to become warriors malgre eux, and formii g a vmarkable contrast to those hardy and athletic frames who seem destined by nature for the military career. Here were these poor recruits, a few weeks since dragged from their native hearths, constrained by regal power to illustrate themselves by the sword—when their hearts and characters were formed for domestic cares, and. those agricultural labours which sweetened their rustic meal, and only trying to evade their direst eneny—the recruiting-sergeant of Napoleon ! But there is another distinctive mark in those veteran French soldiers, whom we see conveyed into Bruxelles, wounded and prisoners. They seem to retain a ferocious expression, even at the moment of sinking into the feebleness of death, and while every humane succour is rendering to them. They cast a furtive glance around, and their countenances indicate all the horror of their minds at their late reverses, and to he thinking less of the bodily pains they are enduring, than of their incapability to revenge themselves upon their victors ! Such was the scene exhibited this morning on the steps of the hotel opposite to my apartment.
These are the best letters qua letters, but in reality descriptions. of events, that have been published in English in our time. They are very lively, and letter-like; at the same time that they are descriptive and continuous.
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