After Waterloo: Reminiscences of European Travel 1815-1819 Part 1

After Waterloo: Reminiscences of European Travel 1815-1819 Part 1

After Waterloo: Reminiscences of European Travel 1815-1819.

by Major W. E Frye.

PREFACE

The knowledge of Major Frye's ma.n.u.script and the privilege of publishing it for the first time I owe to the kindness of two French ladies, the Misses G----. Their father, a well known artist and critic, used to spend the summer months at Saint Germain-en-Laye together with his wife, who was an English woman by birth. They had been for a long time intimately acquainted with Major Frye, who lived and ended his life in that quiet town. The Major's hostess, Mme. de W----, after his death in 1858, brought the ma.n.u.script to Mrs. G---- and gave it to her in memory of her friend. It was duly preserved in the G---- family, but remained unnoticed. The Misses G---- rediscovered it in 1907, when it had been lying in a cupboard for upwards of half a century. On their showing it to me I thought it was interesting for many reasons, and worthy of introduction to the public. I hope the reader will share my opinion, which is also that of several English scholars and men of letters, to whom I communicated extracts from the ma.n.u.script.

The reminiscences are in the form of letters addressed to a correspondent who, however, is never named and of whose health, family and private circ.u.mstances not the slightest mention is to be found. So I am inclined to believe that he never existed, and that Major Frye chose to imitate President de Brosses and others who thus recorded their travelling experiences in epistolary form.

The ma.n.u.script--which will eventually be deposited in a public library--is entirely in Major Frye's large and legible hand; at some later time it was evidently revised by himself, but many names which I have endeavoured to complete were left in blank or only indicated by initials. There are three folio volumes, bound in paper boards. In this edition it has been thought advisable to leave out a certain number of pages devoted to theatricals, of which Major Frye was a great votary, and also some lengthy descriptions of landscapes, museums and churches, the interest of which to modern readers does not correspond to the s.p.a.ce occupied by them. For the information contained in the footnotes I am indebted to many correspondents, English, French, Swiss, Belgian and Italian, to whom I here express my hearty thanks. I am under special obligation to Sir Charles Dilke, Mr Oscar Browning, Professor Novati, Professor Corrado Ricci, Commandant Esperandieu, Professor c.u.mont, Professor Stilling and Mr Hochberg.

Major Frye's tombstone is in the cemetery of Saint Germain, and reads thus: "To the memory of Major William Edward Frye, who departed this life the 9th day of October, 1858." On the same stone has been added in French: "Perceval Edmond Litchfield, decede le 15 Avril, 1888." About P.E.

Litchfield I know nothing; he must have been the Major's intimate friend during the last period of his life.

W.E. Frye was born Oct. 29, 1784, and received his education at Eton (1797-9) in the time of the French Revolution. "The system was," he says, "to drill into the heads of the boys strong aristocratic principles and hatred of democracy and of the French in particular." The effect produced on the youth was the reverse of that intended. From 1799 to 1822 he belonged to the British army: here is an abstract of his services:

Ensign, 2nd Foot, 5th August, 1799.

Lieutenant, 2nd Foot, 7th March, 1800.

Half-pay, 4th Foot, 14th April, 1808.

Lieutenant, 24th Foot, 8th December, 1804.

Captain, 56th Foot, 18th April, 1805.

3rd Ceylon Regt., 15th Feb., 1810.

Half-pay, 3rd Foot, 7th March, 1816.

4th Foot, 24th Feb., 1820.

Brevet-Major, 12th August, 1819.

Sold out, 15th August, 1822.

In 1799, Frye took a part in the British Expedition to Holland. In 1801 he was in Egypt with Lord Abercrombie's army and received the medal for war service. His career in India lasted six years and gave him occasion to visit the three presidencies and Ceylon. In 1814 he returned on furlough to Europe and was in Brussels during the Waterloo campaign. The subsequent years--1815 to 1819--he employed visiting Western Europe, as appears from his reminiscences. I have read letters of his which prove that he lived in Paris from 1830 to 1832. Later, about 1848, he took an apartment in Saint Germain, and died there in 1858.

Major Frye was a very distinguished linguist; besides knowing Greek and Latin, he understood almost all European languages, and was capable of writing correctly in French, Italian and German. The Misses G---- have shown me a rare book published by him at Paris in 1844 under the following t.i.tle:

"Trois chants de l'Edda. Vaftrudnismal, Thrymsquidal, Skirnisfor, traduits en vers francais, accompagnes de notes explicatives des mythes et allegories, et suivis d'autres poemes par W.E. Frye, ancien major d'infanterie au service d'Angleterre, membre de l'Academie des Arcadiens de Rome. Se vend a Paris, pour l'auteur, chez Heideloff & Cie, Libraires, 18 Rue des Filles St. Thomas. 1844" (In 8vo, xii, 115 pp.)

At the end of that volume are translations by Major Frye of several Northern poems--in German, Italian and English verse--from the Danish and the Swedish; then come two sonnets in French verse, the one in honour of Lafayette, the other about the Duke of Orleans, whose premature death he compares with that of the Northern hero of the Edda, Balder. A part of Frye's translation of the Edda, before appearing in book form, had been published in _l'Echo de la Litterature et des Beaux Arts_, a periodical edited by the Major's friend, M. de Belenet.

Frye loved poetry, though his ideas on the subject were rather those of the eighteenth century than our own. It is interesting to find an English officer reading Voltaire, Gessner, Ariosto, and quoting them from memory (which explains that some of his quotations had to be corrected). The sentimental vein of Rousseau's generation still flows and vibrates in him, as when he says that he has never been able to read the letters of Wolmar to St Preux in Rousseau's _Nouvelle Helose_ without shedding tears. German minor poetry, now quite forgotten, attracted him almost as much as the great pages of Schiller, Burger, and Goethe. The Misses G. possess a ma.n.u.script translation in three volumes, in the Major's own hand, of Wieland's _Agathodemon_ done into English. This he evidently intended to publish, as he had written the t.i.tle-page which is worded as follows:

"Agathodemon, a philosophical romance translated from the German of Wieland by W.E. Frye, member of the Academy degli Arcadi in Rome, and of the Royal Society of Northern Antiquarians of Copenhagen, ex-major of infantry in His British Majesty's service."

Frye describes with accuracy, and shows much appreciation of fine scenery and architecture. His judgements in painting and sculpture are sincere, though often betraying the autodidact and amateur. He loved music, especially Rossini's operas which were then beginning their long career of triumph. Theatricals of all sorts, especially ballets, had a great attraction for him and elicited his enthusiastic comments. In comparing tragedies and comedies which he had seen performed in different countries, he gave repeated proofs of his knowledge and critical insight. We can take him as a good example of that intelligent cla.s.s of English travellers whose intercourse with the Continental _litterati_ has so well contributed to establish the good reputation of British culture and refined appreciation of the arts.

The chief interest of Frye's reminiscences lies, however, in quite another direction. He was a friend of liberty, a friend of France, an admirer of Napoleon, and a hater of the Tory regime which brought about Napoleon's downfall. "France's attempts at European domination, in the Napoleonic era, are graciously described as but so many efforts towards spreading the light of civilization over Europe." These words, written about a quite recent work and a propos of the "Entente cordiale," apply perfectly to Frye's reminiscences. Travelling immediately before and after the Emperor's collapse, he found that everywhere, excepting in Tuscany, the French domination was regretted, because the ideals of liberty and equality had shone and vanished with the tricolour flag. He admires the French people, though not the _Ultras_ and bigots, and has fine words of praise for the French army: "Yes, the French soldier is a fine fellow. I have served against them in Holland and in Egypt, and I will never flinch from rendering justice to their exemplary conduct and lofty valour." He takes trouble to refute the exaggerated reports which were then circulated all over Europe about the cruelties and vandalism practised by the French: "If the French since the Revolution have not always fought for liberty, they have done so invariably for science; and wherever they carried their victorious arms abuses were abolished, ameliorations of all kinds followed and the arts of life were improved. Our government, since the accession of George III, has never raised its arm except in favour of old abuses, to uphold despotism and unfair privileges or to establish commercial monopoly."

Sometimes, indeed, speaking of his own country and its government, Major Frye uses very hard words, which might seem unpatriotic if we did not know, from many other memoirs and letters, to what a terrible strain orthodox Toryism, coupled with bigotry and hypocrisy, had put the patience of liberal Englishmen at that period. He called the British government "the most dangerous, artful, and determined enemy of all liberty,"--"England,"


he says, "has been always ready to lend a hand to crush liberty, to perpetuate abuses and to rivet the fetters of monarchical, feudal and ecclesiastical tyranny." And later on he inveighs against the English merchants, who "contributed with their gold to uphold the corrupt system of Pitt and to carry on unjust, unreasonable and liberticide wars."

Whatever may be the final judgement of history on the Tory principles in politics in the days of the Congress of Vienna, Major Frye's love of liberty and intellectual progress ent.i.tle him to the sympathy of those who share his generous feelings and do not consider that personal freedom and individual rights are articles for home use only. Since Frye wrote, the whole of Europe, excepting perhaps Russia, has reaped the benefits of the French Revolution, and reduced, if not suppressed, what the Major called "kingcraft and priestcraft." He did not attempt to divine the future, but the history of Europe in the nineteenth century has been largely in accordance with his desires and hopes. It is not a small merit for a writer, in the midst of one of the most rabid reactions that the world has known, to have clung with such tenacity to ideals, the complete victory of which may now be contemplated in the near future.

S.R.

CHAPTER I

MAY-JUNE, 1815

Pa.s.sage from Ceylon to England--Napoleon's return--Ostend--Bruges--Ghent-- The King of France at Ma.s.s--Alost--Bruxelles--The Duke of Wellington very confident--Feelings of the Belgians--Good conduct of British troops--Monuments in Bruxelles--Theatricals--Genappe and Namur--Complaints against the Prussian troops--Mons--Major-General Adam--Tournay--A French deserter--General Clinton's division--Cavalry review--The Duke de Berri--Back to Bruxelles--Unjust opinions about Napoleon and the French--Battle at Ligny--The day of Waterloo in Bruxelles--Visit to the battlefield--Terrible condition of the wounded--Kindness of the Bruxellois.

BRUXELLES, May 1, 1815.

I proceed to the fulfilment of my promise, to give you from time to time the details of my tour, and my reflections on the circ.u.mstances that occur at this momentous crisis.

To me, who have spent the greatest part of my life out of Europe, the whole scene is so new that I am quite bewildered with it; and you will, I am afraid, as I write on the impulse of the moment, find my ideas at times rather incoherently put together. What changes have taken place in Europe within the last two years! and how great were those which occurred during the interval of my pa.s.sage from Ceylon last year, which island I quitted about the time that we received in that part of the world intelligence of the battle of Leipsic! Having had a long pa.s.sage from distant Taprobane, it was only on my arrival at the Cape of Good Hope, that I learned, to my utter astonishment, the news of the capitulation of Paris to the allied powers, and of the overthrow of the power and dynasty of Napoleon. I recollect that at the Cape there was great rejoicing and jubilee on this occasion; but I confess, as to myself, I did not see any reason for giving vent to this extravagant joy; and I must have had even at that time somehow or other a presentiment of what would soon happen, as in communicating this intelligence to a friend in India I made use of these words: "get a court dress made, my good friend, and a big wig, ruffled shirt, and hair-powder, and stick an old-fashioned sword by your side, for, depend on it, old fashions will come into play again; the most arbitrary and aristocratic notions will be revived and terrible machinations will be framed against the liberties of Europe."

Of course at the Cape we only heard one side of the question; and I began to be almost convinced that it was as necessary for humanity, as for the repose of Europe, that the giant should be put down; and I was consoled when it was effected, ostensibly, at least, by the voice of the people.

I had scarcely been three months in England, when the return of Napoleon from Elba, and the extraordinary dislocation of the Bourbons from the throne of France, summoned Europe again to arms; the crusade is preached at Vienna, and behold! his Grace of Wellington appointed the G.o.dfrey of the holy league. I had reason, about six weeks before the news of this event reached London, from some conversation I had with an intelligent friend, who had just returned from a tour on the Continent, to suppose that the slightest combination against the Bourbons would prove successful, from their injudicious conduct and from the temper of the people; but I never could have supposed that the return of the man of Elba would be hailed with such unparalleled and unanimous acclamation. As I had long ago wished for an opportunity of visiting the continent of Europe, which had never before occurred to me, I eagerly embraced the offer made to me by my friend Major-General Wilson, formerly Lieut.-Governor of Ceylon,[1] to accompany him on a military tour through the country about to be the theatre of war.

Though I had never before visited the Continent (except with the British army in the invasion of Holland in 1799, when I began my military career), yet I was not wholly unprepared for travelling, having united to a cla.s.sical, as well as military education, a tolerable knowledge of history, and a partial acquirement of the princ.i.p.al modern European languages, which I had begun to learn when very young and which I kept up during my leisure hours in India, which, like those of Don Quixote, were many. I preferred this study infinitely to that of the Asiatic languages, for which I never felt any taste, as I dislike bombast, hyperbole and exaggeration; and though an ardent admirer of the Muses, I never could find pleasure in what Voltaire terms "le bon style oriental, ou l'on fait danser les montagnes et les collines," and I prefer the amatory effusions of Ovid to those of the great King Solomon himself.

The war will no doubt commence in Belgium, and of course the Emperor Napoleon will be the a.s.sailant, for it cannot be supposed that after the act of ban pa.s.sed against him by the Amphictyons of Vienna he will remain tranquil, and not strike the first blow, which may render him master of Belgium and its resources.

We embarked at Ramsgate on the first of May for Ostend on board of a small vessel bound thither. Our fellow pa.s.sengers were two officers of dragoons, several commissaries with their servants, horses, etc. After a pa.s.sage of twenty-four hours, we entered the harbour of Ostend at one o'clock the following day. Ostend, once so flourishing and opulent, has long since fallen into decay; its usual dullness is however just now interrupted by the bustle of troops landing to join the allied army. Cavalry, infantry, artillery, horses, guns, stores, etc., are landed every minute. The quays are the only parts of this city which can boast of handsome buildings; the fortifications seem to be much out of repair; in fact, the aggrandizement of Antwerp occasioned necessarily the deterioration of Ostend.

The General and myself went to put up at the _Tete d'Or_, the only inn where we could procure beds; and we embarked early next morning at the embouchure of the ca.n.a.l on board of a _treckschuyt_ which conveyed us in three hours to Bruges.

The landscape between Ostend and Bruges is extremely monotonous, it being a uniformly flat country; yet it is pleasing to the eye at this season of the year from the verdure of the plains, which are all appropriated to pasturage, and from the appearance of the different villages and towns, of which the eye can embrace a considerable number. There is a good road on the banks of the ca.n.a.l, and the troops, on their line of march, enlivened much the scene. Bruges, formerly the grand mart and emporium of the commerce of the East, not only for the Low Countries, but for all the North of Europe, seems, if we may judge from the state of the buildings and the stillness that prevails, to be also in a state of decline. We however had only time to visit the _Hotel de Ville_ and to remark the immense height of the steeple on the _Grande Place_. We observed a number of pretty women in the streets and in the shops employed in lace making. Bruges has been at all times renowned for the beauty of the female s.e.x, and this brought to my recollection a pa.s.sage in Schiller's tragedy of the _Maid of Orleans_, wherein the Duke of Burgundy says that the greatest boast of Bruges is the beauty of its women.

Another _treckschuyt_ was to start at twelve o'clock for Ghent; but we preferred going by land and General Wilson hired a carriage for that purpose. The distance is about thirty miles. The road from Bruges to Ghent or Gand is perfectly straight, lined with trees and paved like a street.

The country is quite flat, and though there is nothing to bound the horizon, the trees on each side of the road intercept the view.

We arrived at Ghent about six in the afternoon of the 4th and had some difficulty in finding room, as the different hotels were filled with officers of the allied army; but at length, after many ineffectual applications at several, we obtained admission at the _Hotel de Flandre_, where we took possession of a double-bedded room, the only one unoccupied.

Gand seems to be a very neat, clean and handsome city, with an air of magnificence about it. The _Grande Place_ is very striking, and the promenades are aligned with trees. We inspected the exterior of several public buildings and visited the interior of several churches. In the cathedral we had the honour of seeing at High Ma.s.s his most Christian Majesty, Monsieur and the Comte de Blacas, Vicomte de Chateaubriand and others, composing the Court of _notre Pere de Gand_, as Louis XVIII is humorously termed by the French, from his having fixed his head-quarters here. A great many French officers who have followed his fortunes are also here, but they seem princ.i.p.ally to belong to the Gardes du Corps. A number of military attended the service in the cathedral in order to witness the devotions of the Bourbon family. Monsieur has all the appearance of a worn out debauchee, and to see him with a missal in his hand and the strange contrite face he a.s.sumes, is truly ridiculous. These princes, instigated no doubt by the priests, make a great parade of their sanct.i.ty, for which however those who are acquainted with their character will not give them much credit. But religious cant is the order of the day _intra et extra Iliacos muros_, abroad as well as in England. The King of France takes the lead, having in view no doubt the advice of Buckingham to Richard III:

A pray'r book in your hand, my Lord, were well, For on that ground I'll make an holy descant.

and M. de Chateaubriand will no doubt trumpet forth the devotion and Christian humility of his master. Those, however, who are at all acquainted with this prince's habits, and are not interested in palliating or concealing them, insinuate that his devotions at the table are more sincere than at the altar and that, like the Giant Margutte in the Morgante Maggiore of Pulci, he places more faith and reliance on a cappone lesso ossia arrosto than on the consecrated but less substantial wafer.[2]

After contemplating this edifying spectacle, we returned to our inn, and the next morning after breakfast we set out on our journey to Bruxelles.

The road is exactly similar to that between Bruges and Gand, but the country appears to be richer and more diversified, and many country houses were observable on the road side. We pa.s.sed thus several neat villages. At one o'clock we stopped at Alost to refresh our horses and dine. At the table d'hote were a number of French officers belonging to the Gardes du Corps. On entering into conversation with one of them, I found that he as well as several others of them had served under Napoleon, and had even been patronised and promoted by him; but I suppose that being the sons of the ancient _n.o.blesse_ they thought that grat.i.tude to a _parvenu_ like him was rather too plebeian a virtue. Some of them, however, with whom I conversed after dinner seemed to regret the step they had taken. "If we are successful," said they, "it can only be by means of the Allied Armies, and who knows what conditions they may impose on France? If we should be unsuccessful, we are exiled probably for life from our country." During dinner, two pretty looking girls with musical instruments entered the hall, and regaled our ears with singing some romances, among which were _Dunois le Troubadour_ and _La Sentinelle_. They sang with much taste and feeling.

I surmise this is not the only profession they exercise, if I might judge from the _doux yeux_ they occasionally directed to some of the officers.

These girls did not at least seem by their demeanour as if likely to incur the anathema of Rinaldo in the _Orlando Furioso_:

meritamente muoro Una crudele,