...

He has never dared to go out since; the others go about, and go to the theatre. This morning I saw 5,000 prisoners come in, with a great many officers, and a quantity of wounded; the latter were a sickening sight.. B. sets off to-morrow; I need not say what I feel about it, because you know it requires no common courage to think even of my forlorn situation here (Berlin), which is rendered for the moment ten times worse by the advance of the armies towards the Rhine, as, though it is such good news for the cause, it removes him so much further from me.'

At this point a break occurs in the young wife's letters, those which she wrote home having been either lost or destroyed. She had to remain for three weeks without any news from her husband, or of his position, and when at last she found out that he had joined the Austrian headquarters on their way to Frankfort, alone to Frankfort this true scion of the Wellesley stock determined to go. She had to cross the line of the French retreat, Sir Thomas Tyrwhitt serving as her escort. She was but twenty years of age; the season was late in November 1813, and on the morning that she started snow fell heavily. It took her eight days to reach Frankfort, viá Potsdam, Halle, and Weimar.

We

'My dearest mama, you see that we have not gone through Leipzig. It is in such a state from the numbers of unburied bodies remaining from the battle that we were advised not to approach, and God knows we have seen horrors enough without seeking more. have come all along the line of the French retreat, and, as it is not a month since they passed, the road was covered with dead horses and the remains of dead men. The latter, I am told, we shall see many of between this and Frankfort, particularly at Hanau, where Wrede fought his sanguinary battle a fortnight ago. No language can describe the horrible devastation these French have left behind them, and without seeing it one could form no idea of the country through which such a retreat as theirs has been made. Every bridge blown up, every village burnt or pulled down, fields completely devastated, orchards all turned up, and we traced their bivouaques all along by every horror you can conceive. None of the country people will bury them or their horses, so there they remain, lying all over the fields and roads, with millions of crows feasting. We passed quantities of bones of all kinds, hats, shoes, epaulettes, and a surprising quantity of rags and linen-every kind of horror. They told us the French soldiers were in such a state of starvation they took the earrings from their ears and implored for bits of bread, which none of the inhabitants would give them. The consequence is the river is full of bodies, and we found Halle full of wounded, there being 14,000 in that town. There was but one room in the inn, which was also quite full of wounded Russians, and smelling! oh, heavens! I got that room for myself and Madame Legoux, and T. Tyrwhitt persuaded some Prussian officers to give up another to him and his secretary. I wear quantities of

camphor and my dear little aromatic vinegar box, and make Madame L. do the same. Never was such a treasure as she is, or any creature so attentive, so amiable, and such a comfort as I find her in the midst of all my troubles. We have not seen a single traveller on the road.'

It was hardly to be expected that she should, and we are sure that our readers will only part with great regret from this intrepid heroine. She found Lord Burghersh at Hanau, and they made a long halt together in Frankfort, from whence young Woronzow, who sets off to-night for England,' carried home the tale of her experiences. In Frankfort she was soon the observed of all observers. Blücher called Lord Burghersh 'the lovely woman's husband,' and she, in her turn, made sketches for her family of the strange assortment of royal and military persons that surrounded her. Of the Emperor Alexander, who considered himself such a fortunate accident' in his unprepossessing family, she will not say more than that his countenance is not bad, but that he holds himself bent forward. Grand Duke Constantine is the greatest monster' she ever saw in a human form. The Emperor of Austria is a little 'wizened old man,' but of the King of Prussia, and of his 'two nice boys' (King Frederic William IV. and Emperor William I.), she cannot speak warmly enough. Then comes the Hetman Platow, the finest old weather-beaten face." Barclay de Tolly (the descendant of an Aberdeenshire squire) is an ugly old fellow.' Old Blücher 'never was beat, and to him the allies certainly owe much of their 'success.' He is followed by Uvaroff, who looks like a 'savage,' Radzivill, who came from Berlin to see the fun,' and Pozzo di Borgo, who is to set off for England in the course of the night.'

I spent nearly an hour yesterday with Sa Majesté Impériale Alexandre, and in a way which made me better acquainted with him. than I should have been in meeting him thirty times in society. The Grand Duchess Catherine (whom I quite delight in) sent to desire I would go to her at one o'clock. I found the Emperor with her. She said she hoped I would forgive cette petite surprise, as the Emperor wished very much to know me, and she was sure I should not dislike such a connaissance. As there was only herself, him, and me, we soon got intimate. He gave me a whole account of last year's campaign (the burning and retreat from Moscow) with a great deal of modesty as to himself and his people, and then made most violent panegyrics upon Lord Wellington, saying, "Ah, si nous avions un capitaine comme celui-là, nous aurions bien mieux fait." I said I did not think that it was possible to mieux faire. "Ah, madame, c'est que le bon Dieu nous a servi de capitaine, et que l'exemple des Anglais nous a donné

du courage." I was much better pleased with him than I expected. His manners have less fanfaronnade than I had imagined, and his countenance is certainly very delightful. Nevertheless, I cannot think him handsome, and his voice is rough and disagreeable. I have made lately another acquaintance which I delight in old General Blücher. He is the picture of a fine old hero. The worst is he speaks very little French, and I have not learnt any German but what I pick up here and there, so we can't get on very well without an interpreter. What fun we should have if you were here with me, and how little writing answers to one's feelings! I must leave you to go and dress for dinner at the Chancellor Hardenberg's. I see Lord Byron has

published a new poem. Pray send it to me... I must tell you an

odd thing that happened to me on Monday night. I got out at the post-house about eleven at night while the horses were putting to. At the door we met Prince Metternich, who was travelling here also, and while B. was talking to him, the place being full, I got separated from him, and he, thinking I was gone into the room, went out with Metternich to see about the horses. I, not finding him or knowing where to go, opened the first door, which proved to be the kitchen, to the dire offence of an old woman, who immediately seized me by the arm, swearing in German as hard as she could jabber, and dragged me, notwithstanding my struggles, into a room, pushed me in, and slapped the door upon me. I found myself with four Cossack officers, who were eating their supper. I was a little scared, but one of the officers having spoken in French put me at ease directly, and I told them how I came there, and begged one of them to go out and look for mon mari, as I was afraid of going out alone where I could not make myself understood. They were excessively civil, and another soon recognised me as "la dame Anglaise qui veut bien embellir notre quartier général." So by the time B. came in, which was not for a good while, as he had had a row to settle about the horses, he found me sitting with them in high conversation and the best friends possible. I think when I return I shall amuse you with many things one can't write. I am wonderfully well in body and mind, and quite strong. I am surprised at it myself, but much more surprised to find myself always contented and gay, without anxieties or fears on any subject, not minding noise, stink, or dirt in the least, and quite bold on horseback and amongst men and soldiers, even Cossacks, who are the greatest thieves in the world! I believe God has changed me inside and out expressly for this journey, and for that one cannot be sufficiently thankful.'

A young lady of such mirthful firmness would seem to have little left to learn, even in such a campaign; but at Christmas she added an item to her experiences. She saw and heard the siege of Huningue, watching from her bed the shot and shells that burst, on which she only remarks, 'that the noise at first prevented her sleeping, but that she 'got not to mind it at all.' Early in January came the passage of the Rhine by the Allies.

'Is it not most wonderful that the Allies should now be in so many different points in France, and that we cannot hear of any French army collecting anywhere? Platow and his Cossacks are at Ñancy.

January 20.-I was woke this morning by a note from Metternich announcing that Langres was ready to be laid à vos jolis pieds. Think of our occupying Langres, Nancy, and Dijon without firing a shot! Here we are far advanced into France, and I can only say that after all the places I have been in I have never met with hospitality and cordiality till here. The people give us everything they have, and show an eagerness to do their utmost, which is delightful. They all talk of Buonaparte exactly in the same manner as of a monster whom they detest. They say that since his defeats Napoléon est toujours soul, and they say that for four years the war in Spain has been the subject of universal execration. Peace will probably be signed in a short time. I hear that Lord Beverley and his son are still prisoners at Moulins. There was a very brilliant affair two days ago between Mortier and the Prince Royal of Würtemburg near Bar-sur-Aube, where the latter drubbed him and killed 2,000 men.

'February 3.-The congress opens at Châtillon this day, twelve leagues from hence.'

After severe anxiety about Lord Burghersh, who was under fire at Brienne, the worst of this heroine's trials would have been surmounted, had it not been for a miscalculation.

'Just after the battle of Brienne the Emperor Francis was behind me at Langres, and I expected he would come to Chaumont to fix for some days. Depending upon this, I was under no uneasiness at being there alone, knowing myself to be between him and the rearguard and the other Emperor, &c., with the army. I sent all the horses away with B. and his baggage waggon, knowing that Prince Metternich would take care to give me requisition horses when he and the Emperor moved on. My whole dependence was on them. Conceive, therefore, my sensations when on Friday morning I heard that the Emperor, Metternich, &c.-in short, the whole Court-had gone by in the night, and proceeded to Bar-sur-Aube. So I found myself entirely alone in the town, not even a garrison left, not one soul I could apply to, no order for horses, no passport, no billet for quarters even if I could get off, and the wounded from the battle coming in by cartfuls to make the séjour more agreeable. For the first time I was completely discouraged, and sat for an hour quite bewildered. I think no one ought ever to have any anxiety about me after getting myself, by myself, out of such a situation. After despairing for an hour I began to think I must do something for myself, and that with five senses and money I might do much. So I set about the means of getting on, for the rear of an army is for many reasons much the worst place to be in.'

This traveller, who was clearly designed by nature for a soldier, got hold of four requisition horses. So far so good, but their driver ran off, and she only succeeded, after waiting from 9 A.M. to 2 P.M., in compelling a one

armed man to drive her. Her husband was' she adds, in a terrible taking when he heard the Emperor had 'arrived here without me.' But all is well that ends well, and Lady Burghersh was again able to fill her pretty head, and her letters, with public matters:—

This is certainly the most interesting moment which perhaps the annals of the world affords. Every hour may produce great events. In the midst of all I am quite well, quiet, and happy after some moments of anxiety are passed. It is a dreadful sight to see the wounded coming in after a battle; we met quantities on the road. We have a magnificent army assembled here, but it will ruin the country, which is poor and already exhausted. I never saw so filthy a town as Troyes, and the number of beggars far surpasses that of Dublin—all women and children, for of spare men there are none; but the former follow you about in herds of twenty and thirty together. If you give money to one the rest all fall on her, and then begins a regular fight. The King of Prussia and his two uncommonly nice boys go every night to the theatre. One night there were two women in the gallery; the other nights I have been the only female in the house. Some mameloukes of Buonaparte's bodyguard have deserted from him, and come in here.'

At Châtillon the plenipotentiaries were at work, but their lively critic says of them that they gave too many great dinners to each other, and gorged so effectually that two or three have fallen ill from the effects of their intemperance.' There were moments when she despaired of the possibility of any peace, and expected the congress to break up, and when the negotiations did actually end, on March 19, she expresses

'a hope that Buonaparte, seeing that the allies would not make peace on his terms, might become more moderate. I am very anxious to hear what line the Emperor intends taking. It seems impossible that they should continue the war in this country, which is completely and utterly ruined, pillaged, and devastated.'

Ordered to Dijon by the Emperor Francis, Lady Burghersh was again many days without knowing anything about her husband; nor was her anxiety relieved till a letter, dated April 1, informed her that Lord Burghersh was in Paris. She started at once to go to him, this time with no escort but her maid and a manservant. Before long she was taken prisoner by some French soldiers, but she was released by a commandant, to whom with true Irish readiness she explained, with smiles, and in the most fluent French, that he could do himself no good in the world by detaining a defenceless and unimportant woman. This was her last exploit, and without further let or