CHAPTER V.

Waterloo-Namur and its bell-Aix-la-Chapelle and its relics-The danger of being caught by appearances― Cologne.

NOTWITHSTANDING its heat and noise, I could not help feeling regret when we left the gay capital of Belgium. The day was intensely hot, and we suffered so much from the fatigue of travelling, that nothing short of Waterloo could have induced us to encounter the broiling sun on its treeless plains. We got out of the carriage at St. Jean, and made a pilgrimage to the little mound overhung by a willow-tree, under which Lord Anglesey's leg is buried. In the house they showed us the boot which was cut off the severed limb, and the table on which the operation was performed. A likeness of his lordship hangs in the little parlour,

which was sent to Madame Williams by Lady Anglesey, whose note on the subject is religiously preserved in the archives of St. Jean. We were told that the marquis visited the cottage about a year since with his family, and dined off the same table on which he was laid after the battle to have his leg amputated.

Of all the heroes of Waterloo, Lord Anglesey seems to be best remembered and most beloved by the people there, who dwell with great pleasure on any little circumstance connected with him. The way in which I heard him spoken of was particularly gratifying to my feelings, as I never can forget, that to his kindness and personal exertions, I am indebted, under Providence, for the preservation of my life.

One has heard and read so much of the plains of Waterloo, that one fancies it hardly possible to gain any new ideas by visiting them. Still there is a feeling-an indescribable something that accompanies the knowledge that you are actually standing upon that hard-fought fieldthat your feet are pressing the soil once red with the brave heart's blood of so many gallant men, which neither books nor description can impart.

Our guide had been a sergeant-major in Lord Anglesey's regiment, the 7th Hussars, and has established himself at the village of Waterloo, for the purpose of acting as such to strangers. He had been in the action, and has besides collected so many particulars respecting it, that his account is very circumstantial.

What interested me most of all that was shown us, was the little church at St. Jean, whose walls are covered with the monuments of the slain. It is quite impossible to look at these tributes to the memory of the loved and the lost, without emotion. One is erected by a sorrowing wife,-another by a father or a sister's hand, or the surviving brother-officers of the departed. A desolate thing it is to think of them lying there so many hundred miles from the homes that must know them no more, and the bereaved hearts whom that fatal day has sent mourning on through the remainder of their earthly pilgrimage.

How many sad reflections crowded into my mind as I gazed on those monuments of the dead! Two that were near and dear to me, though I was then too young to be aware of it, were on that battle-field! One has since ended

his brief career, and closed his eyes in a foreign land; the other lives; and while standing before the tombs at the little church of St. Jean, I could not repress a tear of fervent thankfulness for the mercy that spared from the perils of the sword one whose love and affection are now among the first blessings of my life.

The heat was so intolerable during the remainder of the day, that when we reached Namur we were so overcome by the fatigue and suffering consequent upon it, as to be unable to stir. I was forced to see W- depart alone to explore the curious old town and fortress; my inclinations would have taken me with him, but, alas! an aching head and weary limbs chained me to the hotel.

All, therefore, that G and myself saw of the beauties of the Meuse that night were the trout and cray-fish that appeared on the table at dinner. We congratulated ourselves, however, on the quiet and stillness of our room at the D'Arscamp hotel, and contrasted it, with no small satisfaction, with the noise of Brussels. We threw open the croisée, and sat admiring the picturesque, dome-like tower of a church, so near that we could almost touch it from the

place where we were seated. The swallows were flying in myriads about it, wheeling round the top, and darting in and out of the holes ; the dark-grey of the stone was deepening in the fading light, and nothing disturbed the calm of the summer's evening but the chirping and twittering of the birds. Nothing could be more luxurious, when, lo! bang went the stentorian bell of the church immediately over our heads!-the effect was electric-the walls seemed to shake with the mighty vibration, and at first we were so stunned as to be unconscious for a moment of the acute and splitting pain our unfortunate heads were undergoing as every shock of the bell struck them. Our delightful visions of quiet and repose were soon put to flight!

We started next morning at a very early hour, and on leaving, took an admiring gaze at the ancient city of Namur, which, from its numbers of towers, spires, and steeples, has a fine effect at a distance. I cannot say that we admired our old friend behind the D'Arscamp quite as much as before we had suffered so severely from its thundering bell.

Nothing could be more enjoyable than our