As Thackeray says, there never was, since the days of Darius, such a brilliant train of camp-followers as hung around Wellington’s army in the Low Countries, in the year 1815. French noblesse who had fled their country, English lords and ladies who had crossed over to the Continent, diplomats connected with various European courts, travellers who had stopped at Brussels to await the issues of the campaign--all these crowded the city. With the officers of the English and Belgian armies, this made a brilliant and distinguished society, and many social entertainments were being given. Owing principally to the fact that hers was connected with the march of the English army and the crowning victory of Waterloo, the Duchess of Richmond’s ball has, historically, obliterated every other. Lord Byron immortalized it in “Childe Harold”; and after him came Thackeray with his masterly descriptions in “Vanity Fair.” Until a comparatively recent date it has not been known for certain where the ball took place, for it was well known that it was not given in the house which the Duke of Richmond was temporarily occupying. Sir William Fraser has published a most interesting account of how his industrious search for the famous ball-room was at length rewarded by the discovery that the place actually used for the dance was the store-room, or dépot, of a carriage-builder, whose establishment joined the rear of the Duke of Richmond’s palace. Instead of being a “high-hall” as Byron imagined, it was a low room, 13 feet high, 54 feet broad, and 120 feet long. For the two hundred invited guests it afforded ample accommodations. We can assume that this storage-room for vehicles had been transformed with hangings and decorations until it presented an appearance sufficiently brilliant, and we can imagine the eagerness with which “the beauty and the chivalry” had looked forward to this night. We can imagine the intrigues for tickets. We can imagine fair women leaning on the arms of the brave men, and the crash of music, as the band strikes up, and then, “On with the dance!” Yonder is the Prince of Orange, heir to the illustrious house which boasts such names as William III and William the Silent. To whom does the modern world owe more,--for freedom of conscience, of speech, of person,--than to the heroic Dutchman who stood, almost alone--and triumphantly!--against the whole power of the Spanish Empire and the Pope? From whom have we received a finer lesson in patriotism, and in desperate determination to be free, than from William III when, as the armies of the Grand Monarch came irresistibly on, sternly ordered, “_Cut the dykes! We’ll give Holland back to the sea, rather than become the slaves of France!_”