The lower chamber was, till lately, decorated with two paintings of the battles of Nieuport and Waterloo. In the latter, the principal figure was that of the Prince of Orange, at the moment of his receiving his wound in the action. This unhappy painting seems to have been a source of some embarrassment--to keep such a conspicuous memento of the expelled dynasty, and that, too, recording its strongest claim upon the gratitude of the nation; and, above all, to leave it suspended in the very midst of the revolutionary leaders, must have been peculiarly awkward. But then, this objection did not extend to the battle of Nieuport--one of the most decisive victories of the patriots over the Spaniards in the war of liberation, and to take down the one without the other would have looked peevish. The difficulty seems, however, to have been surmounted, for we found them both gone; and that of Waterloo, we saw in a back apartment, awaiting, perhaps, its removal to some still more secluded depository. The Park, which forms the centre of the square, which is flanked by these public buildings, is the favourite promenade of the Bruxellois--the Tuilleries’ garden of their little Paris, and, in fact, it is _a garden_, its dimensions being too small to merit its more dignified title. Without being either Dutch or cockney, it contains as many varieties of ornament as could well be disposed of in so small a space--broad green slopes, tall trees and shaded walks, with fountains, busts and statues in abundance. Within the gardens, there is a miniature theatre and a café, and a ball-room, called La Salle du Wauxhall, and in summer, a military band plays during the evening promenade. This little “pleasance” was, in 1830, the focus of the revolutionary riot, where the Dutch troops, under the command of Prince Frederick, made their unfortunate entry into the city, and after an interval of carnage and incendiarism, retired, without a demonstration of their strength, or a vigorous effort to crush the revolt. The houses and trees still bear traces of these sanguinary “three days,” the latter having their wounds still bound up with plates of lead and iron nailed over the spots which were torn by the balls.