Waterloo Days: The narrative of an Englishwoman resident at Brussels in June 1815 — John Shaqi
Waterloo Days: The narrative of an Englishwoman resident at Brussels in June 1815Eaton, Charlotte A. (Charlotte Anne)
History
Waterloo Days: The narrative of an Englishwoman resident at Brussels in June 1815
Eaton, Charlotte A. (Charlotte Anne)
Waterloo, Battle of, Waterloo, Belgium, 1815
After leaving Alost, the country became more rich and undulating.
Instead of a dull, dead flat, which we had before traversed, sloping
grounds, and distant hills, and sheltered valleys diversified the
prospect. The woods rose in prouder beauty, and the fields were
dressed in brighter verdure and richer luxuriance; and as we passed
through those smiling scenes, and saw the husbandman pursuing his
peaceful labours, the cottage wife busy with her household cares,
and the merry groups of haymakers spread over the fragrant meadows,
we rejoiced in the hope that the hand of the spoiler would never lay
waste these fruitful fields, nor burn these peaceful hamlets, and
that these contented peasants would never again be torn from their
homes to fight in the cause of unprincipled ambition, and become in
turn the instruments of that oppression of which they had been the
victims. It was with a feeling of pride for our country we indulged
the thought that it was to England they owed their security; that it
was her protecting arm which interposed the impenetrable shield of
her armies between them and the tyranny and usurpation of France. We
could not but rejoice that since the awful struggle must be made, its
horrors--if inevitable--would, at least, be distant;--that since the
awful thunderbolt of war must fall, it would descend, in all human
probability, upon that country which had raised the storm; and that
France herself would at length be visited by some part of the dreadful
calamities which she had so long and so mercilessly inflicted upon
other nations.[7]
Short sighted mortals! while we fondly indulged these hopes, and
exulted in the blessings of security and peace, how little did we
suspect that the most aggravated horrors of war were ready to burst
over our heads; how little did we foresee the rapid changes and
alarming events which even this very day was destined to produce; and
while we watched the sun sinking in glory in the western sky, how
little did we dream of the scenes that were to pass before the dawn of
morning! In all the bliss of ignorance, however, we journeyed along,
admiring from afar the lofty towers and spires of Brussels, and its
crowded roofs clustering round the steep sides of a hill, in the midst
of a rich and cheerful country, and thinking with joyful and impatient
anticipation of the well-known faces of the beloved friends whom we
were to meet within its walls.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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