Chapter IX: Journey to Flanders (1)

When we left Paris, we took the road to Soissons and Laon, with a view to see the seat of war during the previous campaign, and examine the interesting country of Flanders. After passing the village of La Villette, and the heights of Belleville, the country becomes flat and uninteresting, and is distinguished by those features which characterise almost all the level agricultural districts of France. The road, which is of great breadth, and paved in the centre, runs through a continued plain, in which, as far as the eye can reach, nothing is to be discerned but a vast expanse of corn fields, varied at intervals by fallows, and small tracts of lucerne and sainfoin. No inclosures are to be met with; few woods are seen to vary the uniformity of the view; and the level surface of the ground is only broken at intervals by the long rows of fruit-trees, which intersect the country in different directions, or the tall avenues of elms between which the _chaussèes_ are placed.

These elm trees would give a magnificent appearance to the roads, both from their age and the immense length during which they fringe its sides, were it not that they are uniformly clipt to the very top, for firewood, by the peasantry, and that all their natural beauty is in consequence destroyed. The elm, indeed, pushes out its shoots to replace the branches which have been destroyed, and fringes the lofty stem with a cluster of foliage; but as soon as these young branches have become large, they too are in their turn sacrificed to the same purpose. When seen from a distance, accordingly, these trees resemble tall May-poles with tufts at their tops, and are hardly to be distinguished from the Lombardy poplars, which, in many parts of the country, line the sides of the principal roads.

One most remarkable circumstance in the agricultural districts of France, is here to be seen in its full extent. The people do not dwell in detached cottages, placed in the centre of their farms or their properties, as in all parts of England; they live together in aged villages or boroughs, often at the distance of two or three miles from the place of their labour, and wholly separated from the farms which they are employed in cultivating. It is no uncommon thing accordingly, to see a farmer leaving a little town in the morning with his ploughs and horses, to go to his piece of ground, which lies many miles from the place of his residence.

This circumstance, which exists more or less in every part of France, is characteristic of the state in which the people were placed in those remote periods, when their habits of life were originally formed. It indicates that popular degradation and public insecurity, when the poor were compelled to unite themselves in villages or towns for protection from the banditti, whom the government was unable to restrain, or from the more desolating oppression of feudal power. In every country of Europe, in which the feudal tyranny long subsisted; in Spain, in France, in Poland, and in Hungary, this custom has prevailed to a certain extent, and the remains of it are still to be seen in the remoter parts of Scotland. It is in countries alone whose freedom has long subsisted; in Switzerland, in Flanders, and in England, that no traces of its effects are to be discerned in the manners and the condition of the peasantry; that the enjoyment of individual security has enabled the poor to spread themselves in fearless confidence over the country; and that the traveller, in admiring the union of natural beauty with general prosperity, which the appearance of the country exhibits, blesses that government, by the influence of whose equal laws that delightful union has been effected.

In the neighbourhood of Paris, and in those situations which are favourable for vineyard or garden cultivation, this circumstance gives a very singular aspect to the face of the country. As far as the eye can reach, the sloping banks, or rising swells, are cultivated with the utmost care, and intersected by little paths, which wind through the gardens, or among the vineyards, in the most beautiful manner; yet no traces of human habitation are to be discerned, by whose labour, or for whose use, this admirable cultivation has been conducted. The labourers, or proprietors of these gardens, dwell at the distance of miles, in antiquated villages, which resemble the old boroughs which are now wearing out in the improved parts of Scotland. In the greater part of France, the people dwell in this manner, in crowded villages, while the open country, every where cultivated, is but seldom inhabited. The superiority, accordingly, in the beauty of those districts, where the cottages are sprinkled over the country, and surrounded by fruit-trees, is greater than can well be imagined: and it is owing to this circumstance that Picardy, Artois, and Normandy, exhibit so much more pleasing an appearance, than most of the other provinces of France.

In the district between Paris and Soissons, as in almost every other part of the country, the land is now in the hands of the peasantry, who became proprietors of it during the struggles of the revolution. We had every where occasion to observe the extreme industry with which the people conduct their cultivation, and perceived numerous instances of the truth of Mr Young's observation, "that there is no such instigator to severe and incessant labour, as the minute subdivision of landed property." But though their industry was uniformly in the highest degree laudable, yet we could not help deploring the ignorant and unskilful manner in which this industry is directed. The cultivation is still carried on after the miserable rotation which so justly excited the indignation of Mr Young previous to the commencement of the revolution. Wheat, barley or oats, sainfoin, lucerne or clover, and fallow, form the universal rotation. The green crops are uniformly cut, and carried into the house for the cattle; as there are no inclosures, there is no such thing as pasturage in the fields; and, except once on the banks of the Oise, we never saw cattle pasturing in those parts of France. The small quantity of lucerne and sainfoin, moreover, shews that there are but few herds in this part of France, and that meat, butter, or cheese, form but a small part of the food of the peasantry. Normandy, in fact, is the only pasture district of France, and the produce of the dairy there is principally intended for the markets of Paris.

The soil is apparently excellent the whole way, composed of a loam in some places, mixed with clay and sand, and extremely easily worked. Miserable fallows are often seen, on which the sheep pick up a wretched subsistence--their lean sides and meagre limbs exhibit the effects of the scanty food which they are able to obtain. The ploughing to us appeared excellent; but we were unable to determine whether this was to be imputed to the skilfulness of the labourer, or the light friable nature of the soil.

The property of the peasantry is not surrounded by any enclosures, nor are there any visible marks whereby their separate boundaries could be determined by the eye of a stranger. The plain exhibits one unbroken surface of corn or vineyards, and appears as if it all formed a part of one boundless property. The vast expanse, however, is in fact subdivided into an infinite number of small estates, the proprietors of which dwell in the aged boroughs through which the road occasionally passes, and the extremities of which are marked by great stones fixed on their ends, which are concealed from a passenger by the luxuriant corn in which they are enveloped. This description applies to the grain districts in almost every part of France.

Although the condition of the peasantry has been greatly ameliorated, in consequence of the division of landed property since the revolution, yet their increased wealth has not yet had any influence on the state of their habitations, or the general comfort of their dwellings. This rises from the nature of the contributions to which they were subjected during the despotic governments which succeeded the first years of the revolution. These contributions were levied by the governors of districts in the most arbitrary manner. The arrondissement was assessed at a certain sum by the government, or a certain contribution for the support of the war was imposed; and the sum was proportioned out among the different inhabitants, according to the discretion of the collector. Any appearance of comfort, accordingly, among the peasantry, was immediately followed by an increased contribution, and heavier taxes; and hence the people never ventured to make any display of their increased wealth in their dwellings, or in any article of their expenditure, which might attract, the notice of the collectors of the imperial revenue. The burdens to which they were subjected, moreover, especially during the last years of the war, were extremely severe, arising both from the enormous sums requisite to save their sons from the conscription, and the heavy unequal contributions to which they were subjected.

From these causes, the division of landed property has not yet produced that striking amelioration in the habits and present comfort of the peasantry, which generally attend this important measure; and their wealth is rather hoarded up, after the eastern custom, for future, emergencies or spent in the support of an early marriage; and never lavished in the fearless enjoyment of present opulence.

In some respects, however, their appearance evidently bears the mark of the improvement in their situation. Their dress is upon the whole neat and comfortable, covered in general by a species of smock frock of a light blue colour, and exhibiting none of that miserable appearance which Mr Young described as characterising the labouring classes during his time. They evidently had the aspect of being well fed, and both in their figures and dress, afforded a striking contrast to the wretched and decrepid inhabitants of the towns, in whom the real poverty of the people, under the old regime, was still perceptible. In some of these towns, the appearance of the beggars, their extraordinary figures, and tattered dress, exhibited a spectacle which would have been inconceivably ludicrous, were it not for the melancholy ideas of abject poverty which it necessarily conveyed.

About twenty miles from Soissons, the road passes through the magnificent forest of Villars Coterets, which, in the luxuriance and extent of its woods, rivals the forest of Fontainbleau. The place on which it stands is varied by rising grounds, and the distance exhibits beautiful vistas of forest scenery and gentle swells, adorned by rich and varied foliage. It wants, however, those grand and striking features, that mixture of rock and wood, of forest gloom and savage scenery, which give so unrivalled a charm to the forest of Fontainbleau.

From Villars Coterets, the road lies over a high plateau, covered with grain, and exhibiting more than ordinary barrenness and desolation. After passing over this dreary track, you arrive at the edge of a steep declivity, which shelves down to the valley in which the Aisne wanders. The appearance of this valley is extremely beautiful. It is sheltered by high ridges, or sloping hills, covered with vineyards, orchards, and luxuriant woods: the little plain is studded with villas and neat cottages, embosomed in trees, or surrounded by green meadows, in which the winding course of the Aisne can at intervals be discerned. When we reached this spot, the sun had newly risen; his level rays illuminated the white cottages with which the valley is sprinkled, or glittered on the stream which winded through its plain; while the Gothic towers of Soissons threw a long shadow over the green fields which surrounded its walls. It reminded us of those lines in Thomson, in which the effect of the morning light is so beautifully described:

"Lo, now apparent all,
Aslant the dew-bright earth and coloured air,
He looks in boundless majesty abroad,
And sheds the shining day, that burnished plays
On rocks, and hills, and towers, and wandering streams,
High gleaming from afar."

The descent to Soissons is through a declivity adorned by thriving gardens and neat cottages, detached from each other, which afforded a pleasing contrast to the solitary, uninhabited, though cultivated plains through which our route had previously lain. The Fauxbourgs of the town were wholly in ruins, having been totally destroyed in the three assaults which they had sustained during the previous campaign. The town itself is small, surrounded by decayed fortifications, and containing nothing of note, except the Gothic spires, which bear testimony to its antiquity.

On leaving Soissons on the road to Laon, you go for two miles through the level plain in which the town is situated; after which you begin to ascend the steep ridge by which its eastern boundary is formed. It was on the summit of this ridge that Marshal Blucher's army was drawn up, 80,000 strong, at the time when a detachment of his troops, under Count Langeron, was defending Soissons against the French army. Immediately below this position, there is placed a small village, which bore the marks of desperate fighting; all the houses were unroofed or shattered in every part by musket balls; and many seemed to have been burnt during the struggles of which it was formerly the theatre. There is an old castle a little higher up the ascent, which was garrisoned by the allied troops; in the neighbourhood of which, we perceived numerous traces of the immense bivouacs which had been made round its walls; particularly the bodies of horses and oxen, which the Russians had left on the ground, and which the peasants had taken no pains to remove.

From thence the road runs over a high level plateau, covered with miserable corn, or worse fallows, and having an aspect of sterility very different from what we were accustomed to in the rich provinces of France. In the midst of this dreary country, we beheld with delight several deep ravines, formed by streams which fall into the Aisne, sheltered from the chilling blasts that sweep along the high plains by which they are surrounded, the steep sides of which were clothed with luxuriant woods, and in the bottom of which are placed many little farms and cottages, which exhibited a perfect picture of rural beauty. Even here, however, the terrible effects of war were clearly visible; these sequestered spots had been ravaged by the hostile armies; and the ruined walls of the peasants dwellings presented a melancholy spectacle in the midst of the profusion of beauty with which they were surrounded.

Half way between Soissons and Laon, is placed a solitary inn, at which Bonaparte stopt six hours, after the disastrous termination of the battle of Laon. The people informed us, that during this time, he was in a state of great agitation, wrote many different orders, which he destroyed as fast as they were done, and covered the floor with the fragments of his writing. Many Cossacks and Bashkirs had been quartered in this inn; the people, as usual, would not allow them any good qualities, but often repeated, with evident chagrin--"Ils mangent comme des diables; ils ont mangé tous les poulets."

The features of the country continue with little variety, till you begin to descend from the high plateau, over which the road has passed into the wooded valley, in the centre of which the hill and town of Laon are placed. The dreary aspect of this plateau, which, though cultivated in every part, exhibited few traces of human habitation, was enlivened occasionally by herds of pigs, of a lean and meagre breed, (followed by shepherds of the most grotesque appearance,) wandering over the bare fallows, and seemingly reduced to the necessity of feeding on their mother earth.

At the distance of six miles from Laon, the descent begins to the plain below, down the side of a deep ravine, beautifully clothed with woods and vineyards. On the other side of this ravine lies the plateau on which the battle of Craon was fought, whose level desolate surface seemed a fit theatre for the struggle that was there maintained. At the bottom of the ravine the road passes a long line of villages, surrounded with wood and gardens, which had been wholly ruined by the operations of the armies; and among the neighbouring woods we were shewn numerous graves both of French and Russian soldiers.

The approach to Laon lies through a great morass, covered in different places with low brushwood, and intersected only by the narrow chaussèe on which the road is laid. The appearance of the town is very striking; standing on a hill in the centre of a plain of 10 or 12 miles in diameter, bounded on all sides by steep and wooded ridges. It is surrounded by an old wall, and some decayed towers, and is adorned by some fine Gothic spires, whose apparent magnitude is much increased by the elevated station on which they are placed.

In crossing this chaussèe, we were immediately struck with the extraordinary policy of Bonaparte, in attacking the Russian army posted on the heights of Laon, where his only retreat was by the narrow road we were traversing, which for several miles, ran through a morass, impassible for carriages or artillery. This appeared the more wonderful, as the army he was attacking was more numerous than his own, composed of admirable troops, and posted in a position where little hopes of success could be entertained. It was an error of the same kind as he committed at Leipsic, when he gave battle to the allied armies with a single bridge and a long defile in his rear. It is laid down as one of the first maxims of war, by Frederic the Great, "never to fight an enemy with a bridge or defile in your rear: as if you are defeated, the ruin of the army must ensue in the confusion which the narrowness of the retreat creates." We cannot suppose so great a general as Bonaparte to have been ignorant of so established a principle, or a rule which common sense appears so obviously to dictate; it is more probable, that in the confidence which the long habit of success had occasioned, he never contemplated the possibility of a defeat, nor took any measures whatever for ensuring the safety of his army in the event of a retreat. Be this as it may, it is certain that he fought at Laon with a morass, crossed by a single chaussèe, in his rear, and that if he had been totally defeated, instead of being repulsed in the action which then took place, his army must have been irretrievably ruined, in the narrow line over which their retreat was of necessity conducted.

At the foot of the hill of Laon is placed a small village named Semilly, in which a desperate conflict had evidently been maintained. The trees were riddled with the cannon-shot; the walls were pierced for the fire of infantry, and the houses all in ruins, from the showers of balls to which they had been exposed. The steep declivity of the hill itself was covered with gardens and vineyards, in which the allied army had been posted during the continuance of the conflict; but though three months had not elapsed since the period when they were filled with hostile troops, no traces of desolation were to be seen, nor any thing which could indicate the occurrence of any extraordinary events. The vines grew in the utmost luxuriance on the spot where columns of infantry had so recently stood, and the garden cultivation appeared in all its neatness, on the very ground which had been lately traversed by all the apparatus of modern warfare. It would have been impossible for any one to have conceived, that the destruction they occasioned could so soon have been repaired; or that the powers of Nature, in that genial climate, could so rapidly have effaced all traces of the desolation which marked the track of human ambition.

The town of Laon itself contains little worthy of note; but the view from its ramparts, though not extensive, was one of the most pleasing which we had seen in France. The little plain with which the town is surrounded, is varied with woods, corn fields, and vineyards; the view is closed on every side by a ridge of hills, which form a circular boundary round its farthest extremity, while the foreground is finely marked by the decaying towers of the fortress, or the dark foliage which shades its ramparts.

We walked over the field of battle with a degree of interest, which nothing but the memorable operations of which it had formerly been the theatre, could possibly have excited. The accounts of the action, which we received from the inhabitants of the town, and peasantry in its vicinity, agreed perfectly with the official details which we had previously read; and although we could not give an opinion with confidence on a military question, it certainly appeared to us, that the operations of the French army had been ill combined. Indeed, some French officers with whom we conversed on the next day, allowed that the battle had been ill fought, but, as usual, laid all the blame upon Marmont. The main body of the French army, advancing by the road from Soissons, attacked the villages of Ardon and Semilly in front of the town, on the centre of Marshal Blucher's position, and his right wing, which was posted in the intersected ground to the west of the town, on the morning of the 9th of March. These parts of the position were occupied chiefly by the corps of Woronzoff and Buloff, and as they were very strong, no impression was made on them, and the troops who defended them maintained themselves, without support from the reserves, during the whole day. Late in the evening, the corps of Marmont, with a body of cavalry under Arrighi, appeared on the road from Rheims, advancing apparently without any communication or concert with the troops under Napoleon in person, (who were drawn up, for the most part, in heavy columns, in the immediate vicinity of the Soissons road), and made a furious attack on the extreme left of Marshal Blucher's position. The Marshal being satisfied by this time, that the troops in position about the town were adequate to the defence of it against Napoleon's force, was enabled to detach the whole corps of York, Kleist, and Sacken, with the greater part of his cavalry, to oppose Marmont, who was instantly overthrown, cut off from all communication with Napoleon, and driven across the Aisne, with the loss of four or five thousand prisoners, and forty pieces of cannon. The only assistance which Napoleon could give him in his retreat, was by renewing the attack on Ardon and Semilly, which he did next morning, and maintained the action during the whole of the 10th, with no other effect, than preventing the pursuit of Marmont from being followed up by the vigour which might otherwise have been displayed by the Silesian army, notwithstanding the fatigues which they had undergone at that time, during six weeks of continued marching and fighting.

The village of Athies, where the contest with Marmont's corps was decided, containing about 200 houses, had been completely burnt in the time of the action; and, when we were there, little progress had been made in rebuilding it, but the inhabitants, then living in temporary sheds, displayed their usual cheerfulness and equanimity; they were very loud in reprobation of the military conduct of Marmont, and very anxious to convince us, that the French had been overwhelmed only by great superiority of numbers, and that the allies might have completely cut off the retreat of Marmont towards Rheims, if they had known how to profit by their success.

June 8th, we left Laon at sunrise, and took the road to St Quentin. For a few miles the road passes through the plain in which the town is placed, after which it enters a pass, formed between the sloping hills, by which its boundary is marked. These hills are, for the most part, soft and green, like those on the banks of the Yarrow in Scotland, but varied, in some places, by woods and orchards; and their lower declivities are every where covered by vineyards and garden cultivation. Near their foot is placed the village of Cressy, which struck us as the most comfortable we had seen in France. The houses are all neat and substantial, covered with excellent slated roofs, and lighted by large windows, each surrounded by a little garden, and exhibiting a degree of comfort rarely to be met with among the dwellings of the French peasantry. On inquiry, we found that these peasants had long been proprietors of their houses, with the gardens attached, and had each a vineyard on the adjoining heights. The effects of long established property were here very apparent in the habits of comfort and industry, which, in process of time, it had ingrafted upon the dispositions and wishes of the people.

After passing the ridge of little hills, through banks clothed with hanging woods, the road descends into a little circular valley, surrounded on all sides by rising grounds, which presented a scene of the most perfect rural beauty. The upper part of the hills were covered with luxuriant woods, whose flowing outline suited the expression of softness and repose by which the scene was distinguished; on the declivities below the wood, the vineyards, gardens, and fruit-trees, covered the sunny banks which descended into the plain, while the lower part of the valley was filled with a village, embosomed in fruit-trees, ornamented only by a simple spire. It is impossible for language to convey an adequate idea of the beauty of this exquisite scene; it united the interest of romantic scenery with the charm of cultivated nature, and seemed placed in this sequestered valley, to combine all that was delightful in rural life. When we first beheld it, the sun was newly risen; his increasing rays threw a soft light over the wooded hills, and illuminated the summit of the village spire; the grass and the vines were still glittering in the morning dew, and the songs of the peasants were heard on all sides, cheering the beginning of their early labour. The marks of cultivation harmonized with the expression by which the scene was characterised; they were emblematic only of human happiness, and had a tendency to induce the momentary belief, that in this sequestered spot the human species shared in the fulness of universal joy.

As we descended into the valley, we perceived a great chateau near the western extremity of the village of Foudrain, which appeared still to be inhabited, and had none of the appearance of decay by which all that we had hitherto seen were distinguished. It belongs to the Chevalier Brancas, who is proprietor of this and seven or eight of the adjoining villages, and whose estates extend over a great part of the surrounding country. On enquiry, we found that this great proprietor had, long before the revolution, pursued a most enlightened and indulgent conduct towards his peasantry, giving them leases of their houses and gardens of 20 or 30 years, and never removing any even at the expiration of that period, if their conduct had been industrious during its continuance. The good effects of this liberal policy have appeared in the most striking manner, not only in the increased industry and enlarged wealth of the tenants; but in the moderate, loyal conduct which they pursued, during the eventful period of the revolution. The farmers on this estate are some of the richest in France; many being possessed of a capital of 15,000 or 16,000 francs, (from £. 750 to £. 800 Sterling,) a very large sum in that country, and amply sufficient for the management of the farms which they possessed. Their houses are neat and comfortable in the most remarkable degree, and the farm-steadings as extensive and substantial as in the most improved districts of England. The ground is cultivated with the utmost care, and the industry of the peasants is conspicuous in every part of agricultural management. It was impossible, in comparing these prosperous dwellings with the decayed villages in most other parts of the country, not to discern, in the clearest manner, the salutary influence of individual security upon the labouring classes; and the tendency which the certainty of enjoying the fruits of their labour has, not merely in increasing their present industry, but awakening those wishes of improvement, and engendering those habits of comfort; which are the only true foundation of public happiness.

During the revolution, when the peasants of all the adjoining estates violently dispossessed their landlords of their property; when every adjoining chateau exhibited a scene of desolation and ruin; the peasants of this estate were remarkable for their moderate and steady conduct; so far from themselves pillaging their seigneur, they formed a league for his defence "--Ils l'ont soutenùs," as they themselves expressed it--_and he continued throughout, and is now in the quiet possession of his great estate_. It is not perhaps going too far to say, that had the peasants throughout the country been treated with the same indulgence, and suffered to enjoy the same property, as in this delightful district, France would have been spared from all the horrors and all the sufferings of her revolution.

From Foudrain to La Fere, the country is, for the most part, flat; and the road, which is shaded by lofty trees, skirts the edge of a great forest, which stretches as far as the eye can reach to the left; and joins with the forest of Villars Coterets. For many miles the road is bordered by fruit-trees, and the cottages have a most comfortable thriving appearance. To St Quentin the face of the country is flat, though the ridge over which you pass is high; the villages have an appearance of progress and opulence about them, which is rarely to be met with in other parts of France. All the peasantry carry on manufactures in their own houses; and probably their gains are very considerable, as their houses are much more neat and comfortable than in districts which are solely agricultural, and their dress bears the appearance of considerable wealth. The cultivation in the open country still continues, in general, to be wheat, barley, clover, and fallow; but the approach to French Flanders is very obvious, both from the increased quantity of rye under cultivation, from the occasional fields of beans which are to be met with, and from the numbers of potatoes and other vegetables which are to be discerned round the immediate vicinity of the villages. In these villages the houses are white-washed, surrounded by gardens, and have a smiling aspect.

La Fere is a small town, surrounded with trifling fortifications, containing a considerable arsenal of artillery. We were much amused, while there, with the spectacle which the market exhibited. A great concourse of people had been collected from all quarters, to purchase a number of artillery horses which the government had exposed at a low price, to indemnify the people for the losses they had sustained during the continuance of the war. The crowds of grotesque figures which thronged the streets, the picturesque appearance of the horses that were exposed to sale, and the fierce martial aspect of the grenadiers of the old guard, a detachment of whom were quartered in the town, rendered this scene truly characteristic of the French people.

St Quentin is a neat, clean, and thriving town, resembling, both in the forms of the houses, and the opulence of the middling classes, the better sort of the country towns in England. It is the seat of considerable manufactures, which throve amazingly under the imperial government, in consequence of the exclusion of the English commodities during the revolutionary wars. The linen manufacture is the staple branch of industry, and affords employment to the peasantry in their own houses, in every direction in the surrounding country, which is probably the cause of the thriving prosperous appearance by which they are distinguished. The great church of St Quentin, though not built in fine proportions, is striking, from the coloured glass of its windows, and its great dimensions.

The French cultivation continues without any other change than the increased quantity of rye in the fields, and vegetables round the cottages, to the frontier of French Flanders. Still the country exhibits one unbroken sheet of corn and fallow; no inclosures are to be seen, and little wood varies the uniformity of the prospect. In crossing a high ridge which separates St Quentin from Cambray, the road passes over the great canal from Antwerp to Paris, which is here carried for many miles through a tunnel under ground. This great work was commenced under the administration of M. Turgot, but it was not completed till the time of Bonaparte, who employed in it great numbers of the prisoners whom he had taken in Spain. The magnitude of the undertaking may be judged of from the immense depth of the hollow which was cut for it, previous to the commencement of the tunnel, which is so great, that the canal, when seen from the top, has the appearance of a little stream. The course of the tunnel is marked on the surface of the ground by a line of chalky soil, which is spread above its centre, and which can be seen as far as the eye can reach, stretching over the vast ridge by which the country is traversed.

At the distance of three miles from the town of Cambray, the road crosses the ancient frontiers of French Flanders. We had long been looking for this transition, to discover if it still exhibited the striking change described by Arthur Young, "between the effects of the despotism of old France, which depressed agriculture, and the free spirit of the Burgundian provinces, which cherished and protected it." No sooner had we crossed the old line of demarcation between the French and Flemish provinces, than we were immediately struck with the difference, both in the aspect of the country, the mode of cultivation, and the condition of the people. The features of the landscape assume a totally different aspect; the straight roads, the clipt elms, the boundless plains of France are no longer to be seen; and in their place succeeds a thickly wooded soil and cultivated country. The number of villages is infinitely increased; the village spires rise above the woods in every direction, to mark the antiquity and the extent of the population: the houses of the peasants are detached from each other, and surrounded with fruit trees, or gardens kept in the neatest order, and all the features of the landscape indicate the long established prosperity by which the country has been distinguished.

Nor is the difference less striking in the mode of cultivation which is purified. Fallows, so common in France, almost universally disappear; and in their place, numerous crops of beans, pease, potatoes, carrots and endive, are to be met with. In the cultivation of these crops manual labour is universally employed; and the mode of cultivation is precisely that which is carried on in garden husbandry. The crops are uniformly laid out in small patches of an acre or thereby to each species of vegetable; which, combined with the extreme minuteness of the cultivation, gives the country under tillage the appearance of a great kitchen garden. This singular practice, which is universal in Flanders, is probably owing to the great use of the manual labour in the operations of agriculture. Rye is very much cultivated, and forms the staple food of the peasantry. The crops of wheat, barley, oats, rye, and clover, struck us as exceedingly heavy, but not nearly so clean as those of a similar description in the best agricultural districts of our own country.

But it is principally in the condition, manners, and comfort of the people, that the difference between the French and Flemish provinces consists. Every thing connected with the lower orders, indicates the influence of long-established prosperity, and the prevalence of habits produced by the uninterrupted enjoyment of individual opulence. The population of Flanders, both French and Austrian, is perfectly astonishing; the villages form an almost uninterrupted line through the country; the small towns are as numerous as villages in other parts of the world, and seem to contain an extensive and comfortable population. These small towns are particularly remarkable for the number and opulence of the middling classes, resembling in this, as well as other respects, the flourishing boroughs of Yorkshire and Kent, and affording a most striking contrast to those of a very opposite description, which we had recently passed through in France.

The cottages of the peasantry, both in the villages and the open country, are in the highest degree, neat, clean, and comfortable; built for the most part of brick, and slated in the roof; nowhere exhibiting the slightest symptoms of dilapidation. These houses have almost all a garden attached to them, in the cultivation of which, the poor people display, not only extreme industry, but a degree of taste superior to what might be expected from their condition in life: The inside bore the marks of great comfort, both from the cleanness which every where prevailed, and the costly nature of the furniture with which they were filled. Nothing could be more pleasing than the appearance of the windows, every where in the best repair, large and capacious, and furnished with shutters on the outside, painted green, which, together with the bright whiteness of the walls, gave the whole the appearance of buildings destined for ornamental purposes, rather than the abode of the lower orders of the people.

Cambray is a neat comfortable town, containing 15,000 inhabitants, and surrounded by fortifications in tolerable repair, but which, when we passed them, were not armed. It was once celebrated for its magnificent cathedral, reckoned the finest in France; but a few ruins of this great building alone have escaped the fury of the people, during the commencement of the revolution. These trifling remains, however, were sufficient to convey some idea of the beautiful proportions in which the whole had been constructed; they resembled much the finest part of Dryburgh Abbey, in Scotland. The modern cathedral, built near the site of the old one, has a mean exterior, but possesses considerable splendour in the inside.

From Cambray to Valenciennes, the features of the country continue the same as those we have just described. The surface of the ground is still flat, and cultivated in every part with the utmost care, in the garden style of husbandry. We were particularly struck, in this district, by the quantity of drilled crops, the admirable order in which they are kept, and the vast numbers of people, both men, women, and children, who appeared engaged in their cultivation. Nothing, indeed, but the great demand for labour, occasioned by the use of manual labour in husbandry, could have produced, or could support, the great population by which Flanders has always been distinguished.

Valenciennes, situated in one of the finest districts of Flanders, is likewise a well built, comfortable town, built entirely of brick, and surrounded by magnificent fortifications, in admirable repair. As this was the first well fortified town which we had seen, it was to us a matter of no ordinary interest, which was encreased by the remembrance of the celebrated siege which it had undergone from the English army at the commencement of the revolutionary war. We were shewn the point at which the English forced their entrance; and the numberless marks of cannon-balls which their artillery had occasioned during the siege were still uneffaced. Though the modern fortifications, built after the model of Vauban, have not the romantic or picturesque aspect which belongs to the aged towers of Montreuil, Abbeville, or Laon, or the more ruinous walls of the town of Conway in Wales, yet they present a pleasing spectacle, arising partly from the regularity of the forms themselves, and partly from the association with which they are connected.

From Valenciennes to Mons, the country is still flat, though the cultivation and the aspect of the scene is somewhat varied from what had been exhibited by the districts of French Flanders, through which we had previously passed. It lies lower, and appears more subject to inundation: Ditches appear at intervals, filled with water, and extensive meadows are to be seen, covered with rank and luxuriant grass. The cultivation of grain and green crops is less frequent, and in their stead, vast tracks of rich pasture cover the face of the country. Much wood is to be seen on all sides, often of great dimensions; and the population appears still as great as before. The villages succeed one another so fast, as almost to form a continued street; and the numberless spires which rise over the woods in every direction, prove that this number of inhabitants extends over the whole country. The cottages still continue neat and comfortable; not picturesque to a painter's eye, but exhibiting the more delightful appearance of individual prosperity. Their beauty is much increased by the quantity of wood, or the variety of fruit-trees, with which the villages are interspersed. There are many coal-pits in this country, and a great deal of carriage of this valuable mineral on the principal roads. They present a scene of infinitely more bustle and activity than the richest parts of France. We met a great number of waggons, harnessed and equipped like those in England; and the numbers of carriages reminded us, in some degree, of the extraordinary appearance, in this respect, which the approach to our own capital presents; a state of things widely different from the desolate _chaussèes_ which the interior of France exhibits. Every thing in the small towns and villages bore the marks of activity, industry, and increasing prosperity. We passed with much interest over the celebrated field of battle of Jemappe, where the remains of Austrian redoubts are still visible.

Mons, the frontier town of Austrian Flanders, was once a place of great strength, and underwent a dreadful siege during the wars of the Duke of Marlborough; but its ramparts are now dismantled, according to the ruinous policy of Joseph II. The square in the town is large, and has a striking appearance, owing to the picturesque and varied forms of the houses and public buildings of which it is formed. From the summit of the great steeple, to which you are conducted by a stair of 353 steps, there is a magnificent view over the adjacent country to a great distance. It is for the most part green, owing to the immense quantity of land under pasturage, and clothed in every direction with extensive woods. At a considerable distance we were shewn the woods and heights of _Malplaquet_, the scene of one of the Duke of Marlborough's great victories, of which the people still spoke, as if it had been one of the recent occurrences of the war. This town, when we visited it, was completely filled with Prussian and Saxon troops, whose intrepid martial appearance bespoke that undaunted character by which they have been distinguished in the memorable actions of which this country has since been the theatre.

On leaving Mons, on the road to Brussels, you quit the low swampy plain in which the town is situated, and ascend a gentle hill, clothed with wood, in the openings of which many beautiful views of the spires of the city are to be seen. The hill itself is composed entirely of sand, and would be reckoned a rising ground in most other countries, but it forms a pleasing variety to the level plains of Flanders. From thence to Brussels, a distance of 35 miles, the scenery is beautiful in the greatest degree. Unlike the flat surface which prevails over most parts of this country, it is charmingly varied by hills and vallies, adorned by beautiful woods, whose disposition resembles rather that of trees in a gentleman's park, than what usually occurs in an agricultural country. The cottages, over the whole of this district, are particularly pleasing; every where white-washed, clean and comfortable; half hid by a profusion of fruit-trees, or the aged stems of elm and ash.

Brain-le-Compte, Halle, and a number of smaller towns through which the road passes, are distinguished by the neatness of the houses, and the number and opulence of the middling classes of society. The vallies are admirably cultivated in agricultural or garden husbandry, and interspersed with numerous cottages; the gentle slopes are laid out in grass or pasture, and the uplands clothed with luxuriant woods. Upon the whole, the scenery between Mons and Brussels was the most delightful we had ever seen of a similar description, both from the richness and extent of the cultivation; the appearance of public and private property, which was unceasingly exhibited; the beautiful variety of the ground, and the charming disposition of the woods which terminate the view. The village spires, whose summits rise above the distant woods in every direction, increased the effect which the objects of nature were fitted to produce, both from the beauty of their forms themselves, and the pleasing reflections which they awaken in the mind.

We passed through this beautiful country in a fine summer evening in the middle of June. The heat of the day had passed: The shades of evening were beginning to spread over the lowland country; the forest of Soignies was still illuminated by the glow of the setting sun, while his level rays shed a peaceful light over the woods which skirt the field of WATERLOO. We little thought that the scene, which was now expressive only of rest and happiness, should hereafter be the theatre of mortal combat: that the same sun which seemed now to set amid the blessings of a grateful world, should so soon illuminate a field of agony and death; and that the ground which we now trod with no other feelings than admiration for the beauty of nature, was destined to become the field of deathless glory to the British name.

The state of agriculture from Cambray to Brussels, both in French and Austrian Flanders, is admirable. No fallows are any where to be seen, and in their place, green crops, of which beans, peas, carrots, &c. form the principal part. These green crops are kept very clean, and all worked by the spade or hoe, which furnishes employment to the immense population which is diffused over the country. Crops of rye, which, when we passed them in the middle of June, were in full ear, are every where very common; indeed, rye bread seems to be the staple food of the peasantry. Much wheat, barley, and oats, are also cultivated, with a great deal of sainfoin and clover, which is never pastured, but cut, and carried green into the stalls of the cattle. No inclosures are to be seen, except round the orchards and gardens which surround the villages; and, indeed, fences would be a useless waste of ground in a country where every corner is valuable, and no cattle are ever to be seen in the open fields. The soil seemed to be excellent throughout the whole country; sometimes sandy, and sometimes, a rich loam; and the crop, both of corn, beans, and grass, heavy and luxuriant. With the exception, however, of the grain crops, which are generally drilled, the fields are not nearly so clean as in the best parts of England.

The farm steadings and implements of husbandry in all parts of Flanders, are greatly superior to those in France. The waggons are not only more numerous on the roads, but greatly neater in their construction than in France; the ploughs are of a better construction, and the farm offices both more extensive, and in better repair. Every thing, in short, indicated a much more improved and opulent class of agriculturists, and a country in which the fundamental expenses of cultivation had long been incurred.

Near Cambray, the wages of labour are one franc a-day. Near Valenciennes, and from that to Mons, they are from 1 franc to 25 sous, that is, from 10d. to 12-1/2d. From Mons to Brussels, and round that town, from 1 franc to 30 sous, that is, from 10d. to 15d. The rent of land was stated in French Flanders at 20 francs, and the price 1000 francs _per marcoti_; and from Valenciennes to Mons, from 35 to 50 francs; but we could never accurately ascertain what proportion a marcoti bore to the English acre.

The size of the farms is exceedingly various in the districts of Flanders which we have visited. From Cambray to Valenciennes, they were called from 200 to 300 _marcotis_; but from Mons to Brussels, an exceedingly well-cultivated district, they seldom exceed from 50 to 100 _marcotis_; which, as far as we could judge, was not above from 25 to 50 acres. That the size of the farms is in general exceedingly small, appears obviously from the immense number of farm-houses which are every where to be seen. The course and mode of cultivation appears to be precisely the same on the great and the small farms.

The state of the people, both in French and Austrian Flanders, was most exceedingly comfortable. Not the smallest traces of dirt are to be seen, either in the exterior or the interior of the peasants dwellings. Their dress, as in France, is in general neat and substantial, covered with a light blue smock-frock, and without any appearance of abject want. The women in general appeared handsome, and very well clad. Every thing, in short, bespoke a rich, prosperous, and happy population.

BRUSSELS is a large, populous, and in many respects a handsome town. It stands upon the side of a hill, the lower part being the old town, and the higher the fashionable quarter. Near the centre of the old town is placed a square of considerable size, surrounded by high antiquated buildings of a most remarkable construction; and the _Hotel de Ville_, which occupies nearly one of its sides, is ornamented by a high Gothic spire of the lightest form, and the most exquisite proportions. The Cathedral is large, and has two massy towers in front; but the effect of the interior, which would otherwise be very grand, from its immense size, is much injured by statues affixed to the pillars, and an intermixture of red and white colours, with which the walls are painted. In this Cathedral, as well as in the churches throughout Flanders which we visited, we were much struck by the numbers of people who attended service, and the earnestness with which they seemed to participate in religious duty;--a spectacle which was the more impressive, from the levity or negligence with which we had been accustomed to see similar services attended in France.

The _Parc_, which is an immense square of splendid buildings, inclosing a great space, covered with fine timber, is probably the most magnificent square in Europe. The Royal Palace, and all the houses of the nobility, are here situated. There is nothing of the kind, either in Paris or London, which can be compared with this square, either in extent, the beauty of the private houses, or the richness and variety of the woods.

At Brussels, we saw 1500 British troops on parade in the great square. We were particularly struck with the number and brilliant appearance of the officers. It would be going too far to say, that they understood their duty better than those of the allied armies; but they unquestionably have infinitely more of the appearance and manners of gentlemen. The proportion of officers to privates appeared much greater than in the other European armies; but the common soldiers had not nearly so sun-burnt; weather-beaten an appearance. Among the British troops, the Highlanders resembled most nearly the swarthy aspect of the foreign soldiers. The discipline of these troops was admirable; they were much beloved by the inhabitants, who recounted with delight numerous instances of their humanity and moderation. In this respect they formed a striking contrast to the Prussians, whose abuses and voracity were uniformly spoken of in terms of severe reprobation.

The ramparts at Brussels, especially in the upper parts of the town, are planted with trees, and afford a delightful walk, commanding an extensive view over the adjacent country. The favourite promenade at Brussels, however, is the Allee Verte, situated two miles from the town, on the road to Antwerp, which forms a drive of two miles in length, under the shade of lofty trees. It was filled, when we saw it, with numerous parties of officers of all nations, principally German and British; and we could not help observing, how much more brilliant the appearance of our own countrymen was, than that of their brethren in any other service. Indeed they are taken from a different class of society: in the continental states, men, from inferior situations, enter the army with a view to obtain a subsistence; in the British service alone, men of rank and fortune leave the enjoyment and opulence of peaceful life, to share in the toils and the hardships of war.