Journal of the Waterloo campaign, vol. 1 (of 2) : $b kept throughout the campaign of 1815Mercer, Cavalié
History
Journal of the Waterloo campaign, vol. 1 (of 2) : $b kept throughout the campaign of 1815
Mercer, Cavalié
Mercer, Cavalié, 1783-1868 -- Diaries; Waterloo, Battle of, Waterloo, Belgium, 1815 -- Personal narratives, British
The man said they had been there all night.
After traversing these marshes for about five or six miles, we
entered on a country almost as flat, but of a very different
character, highly cultivated and well wooded. The road became an
avenue, whilst the adjoining fields were interspersed everywhere with
patches of copsewood, and rows of tufted bushes serving here and
there as boundaries in place of hedges; the scenery, of course, much
more pleasing, although not seen to advantage under the still gloomy,
overcast sky.
It was late when we reached Ghistel, the appearance of which,
however, was consolatory, and promised some comfort.
Before we could seek that, a troublesome task still remained to be
performed. Our men could not understand their billets, some of which
were on isolated farms a mile or two from the village; neither could
they inquire their way. It therefore became necessary for us to
accompany and see them safely housed ere we could resign ourselves to
the enjoyments of our auberge. In the village itself they were soon
put up, for many of the people spoke or understood a little English.
At length, as night set in, our business was finished, and we all
assembled at our auberge, which, though humble, was delightfully
clean, and to us, after last night’s adventure, appeared luxurious.
No less so was the excellent dinner to which we soon sat down;
whilst doing justice to which we could not help laughing at its
spread, for it was composed, not of solid joints, &c. &c., but of
an immense multitude and variety of little dishes of stews and all
sorts of nameless (to us) things. A bottle of good port would have
rendered us superlatively happy, but that was not to be thought of in
Ghistel; so having amused ourselves, and puzzled the neat, pretty,
black-eyed girl who officiated as _garçon_ by our inquiries for this
our national, but by her unheard-of, beverage, we were fain to make
ourselves comfortable, and pass the evening in social chat over the
poor, thin, though well-flavoured liquor that the house afforded.
Some of our number, to be sure, were unreasonable enough to grumble,
and one actually got the stomach-ache, but whether from the wine or
last night’s wetting it is difficult to say, though he swore it was
the former.
I shall not easily forget my delight on retiring, when I found a most
clean, enticing bed prepared for me, in a pretty little room, the
window of which looked into a quiet well-kept garden. The enormous
pillow at first took me aback. Such a thing! It seemed to occupy half
the bed. I, however, soon made acquaintance with it, and enjoyed a
most delicious sleep. The first steps in a new country are to me
always a source of pleasurable sensations. Everything one sees is
striking, interesting, and makes a lasting impression. This evening
and its enjoyments will long remain a bright spot in my memory.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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