Tour in England, Ireland, and France, in the years 1826, 1827, 1828 and 1829.: with remarks on the manners and customs of the inhabitants, and anecdotes of distiguished public characters. In a series of letters by a German Prince.Pückler-Muskau, Hermann, Fürst von
History
Tour in England, Ireland, and France, in the years 1826, 1827, 1828 and 1829.: with remarks on the manners and customs of the inhabitants, and anecdotes of distiguished public characters. In a series of letters by a German Prince.
Pückler-Muskau, Hermann, Fürst von
Great Britain -- Description and travel; Great Britain -- Social life and customs -- 19th century
The fight is begun by the 'tirailleurs;' whole
columns then advance upon each other, and charge with the bayonet; the
French cuirassiers charge the Scotch Grays; and as there are a thousand
men and two hundred horses in action, and no spare of gunpowder, it is,
for a moment, very like a real battle. The storming of Houguemont, which
is set on fire by several shells, was particularly well done: the
combatants were for a time hidden by the thick smoke of real fire, or
only rendered partially visible by the flashes of musquetry, while the
foreground was strewed with dead and dying. As the smoke cleared off,
Houguemont was seen in flames,--the English as conquerors, the French as
captives: in the distance was Napoleon on horseback, and behind him his
carriage-and-four hurrying across the scene. The victorious Wellington
was greeted with loud cheers mingled with the thunder of the distant
cannon. The ludicrous side of the exhibition was the making Napoleon
race across the stage several times, pursued and fugitive, to tickle
English vanity, and afford a triumph to the 'plebs' in good and bad
coats. But such is the lot of the great! The conqueror before whom the
world trembled,--for whom the blood of millions was freely shed,--for
whose glance or nod kings waited and watched,--is now a child's pastime,
a tale of his times, vanished like a dream,--the Jupiter gone, and as it
seems, Scapan only remaining.
Although past midnight it was still early enough to go from the strange
scene of illumination and moonlight to a splendid ball at Lady L----'s,
where I found a blaze of diamonds, handsome women, dainty refreshments,
a luxurious supper, and gigantic ennui; I therefore went to bed as early
as five o'clock.
_July 13th._
I had often heard of a certain Mr. Deville, a disciple of Gall; a
passionate craniologist, who voluntarily, and only with a view to the
advancement of his science, gives audience every day at certain hours.
He carefully examines the skulls of his visitors, and very courteously
communicates the result of his observations.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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