_April 24._--Orders to march to-morrow morning to Thermonde. At a
loss to know where this can be, but find it is Dendermonde. Whether
this be in consequence of any movement of the French army, or only
for the purpose of concentration, we are in the dark. The other
troops of horse-artillery in Ghent have also received orders to
march, but we move independently of each other. To-day passed in
preparation, visiting, and leave-taking. Called on my host, whom
I found in a handsome well-furnished drawing-room at the back of
the house, looking over a very nice garden. Had no idea of so much
cheerfulness and comfort existing under our roof, nor of the two
good-looking women I found with him. After much complimenting we
parted.
_25th._--Fine morning. Marched early; leaving Ghent by the road
already mentioned as passing under the Citadel, and crossing
that flat but splendid country which I understand extends without
interruption to Antwerp, or rather to the Tête de Flandre. This is
the Pays de Waes, perhaps the highest cultivated land in Europe. It
is said to have been once little better than moving sand, but that
the great quantities of manure laid on it for so many successive
centuries have completely changed its nature, and produced the fine
rich black mould which is now everywhere of considerable depth. If
this be true, it will in some measure account for the hillock already
spoken of, which is entirely of sand. Passing close under this, I
could not but be struck by the circumstance of this sandy mound
standing in the midst of an otherwise unbroken level, and conjectured
it must be artificial--one of those enormous tumuli erected as the
tomb of departed warriors, or as a look-out, which was a common Roman
custom, particularly in so flat a region. It is about the height of
Silbury, perhaps less, but by no means of so regular a form; its
slope, which is covered with trees and bushes, being excavated and
broken in numerous places, probably for the sand. Standing as it
does amidst a grove of trees, through the boles of which one catches
pretty peeps of the blue distance, and crowned by the little chapel,
independent of its historical or geological existence, it is really
a very interesting object, and forms an admirable foreground to a
picture of the Pays de Waes. Every one does not understand the beauty
of a landscape the principal feature of which is a dead level. Yet
these, like others, have their beauties, which consist principally
in the effect under which they are seen, and the delicious tones
of the aerial perspective gradually melting into the purply tints
of extreme distance. I have often found very exquisite beauty in
these flat Flemish scenes, especially when relieved and animated
by groups of men and cattle, such as one sees in Cuyp and all the
Dutch and Flemish masters. Whether from the richness of the soil, or
some peculiar quality of the atmosphere, I know not, but I always
fancied the colouring here much more vivid than in England, and the
distances much more purply--quite Italian. But I am halting under
the hill; so to proceed. Our road led us through the midst of this
magnificent Pays de Waes, everywhere exhibiting such crops and such
pastures as it is difficult to form an idea of--the latter covered
with fine beasts, which I understand are brought hither from Holland
to fatten. We passed through several populous villages, particularly
Locristy and Seven Eeke, and about fifteen miles from Ghent reached
Lokeren, a large manufacturing town, having all the dirty, smoky,
dismal appearance of our northern manufacturing places, to which the
blackish-coloured stone--somewhat, in colour at least, resembling
the slag used about Bristol as a building material--contributes not
a little. The houses, of three and four storeys, appeared tenanted
each by many families; and the population had all the squalid, filthy
character of our own manufacturing population, always excepting those
of Stroudwater and the bottoms in Gloucestershire. Cloth is the
article fabricated here, but of what quality I know not.
A strong column of Hanoverian infantry, composed of several
battalions of militia, crossing our route, detained us at the
entrance of the town more than half an hour, to the great amusement
of a crowd of gazing weavers and dyers, with upturned sleeves
and blue hands and arms, who surrounded us. The Hanoverians were
fine-looking troops, generally very young, and completely English in
dress and appointments, except that the officers wore particoloured
sashes. Each battalion had a very good band, though rather
noisy, from the number of jingling instruments entering into its
composition--as cymbals, triangles, ottomans, &c. &c.--all which
are much more patronised by foreigners than by us. The Chaussée
terminating at Lockeren, when we continued our march it was on a
bad cross-road, which soon brought us to Zêle--a large populous
manufacturing village, having a wide, clean street. Houses in the
cottage style, and generally only of one floor. The whole population
turned out to see us pass, with the _curé_ at their head--a tall,
respectable-looking old man, who, judging from the good-humoured
countenance with which he scrutinised our column as it passed, and
the air _empressé_ with which he came forward to offer his advice
respecting the road to Dendermonde, I set down either as a very
amiable person, or very zealous in the cause of legitimacy: we were
feeling our way without a guide, and therefore had to ask. The
respectful, quiet, and contented air of his flock spoke also in his
favour, and, together with the bright eyes of numerous pretty women
among the crowd, left a favourable impression of Zêle.
Henceforward the scenery took a very different aspect, and we
exchanged the smiling, populous, well-wooded country we had been
hitherto traversing for a lugubrious, marshy tract, devoid of
anything that could break its monotony--neither trees nor houses,
and but few cattle, were to be seen, whilst the abominable road
became so slippery that it was with difficulty our horses could keep
their feet.
About half a league from Dendermonde we struck the Scheldt, but
could see nothing of it or the opposite country for the high dyke by
which the river is here confined, and along the foot of which, for
some little distance, our road lay, until it brought us to a wooden
bridge elevated nearly thirty feet above the water, and so tottering
that it was necessary to pass by single divisions, and even then its
vibrations were not pleasant. Our quartermaster, who had been sent
in advance, met us here, with orders not to halt in Dendermonde, but
to proceed on to St Gille, situated beyond it on the Brussels road.
The appearance of things improved here, from the number of trees
about Dendermonde, which we soon after entered by a long, straight,
narrow, gloomy, mean-looking street of low houses, built of the same
dark stone we had seen at Lokeren. This led us to a spacious quay,
encompassing what I supposed to be the harbour, for the water was
very low, and the mud bare, like Bristol. Passing round the head
of this, we soon left the town again, and almost immediately found
ourselves at St Gille, which consists of a few mean houses scattered
along the Chaussée, the only decent one being that of a _juge de
paix_, on which I found myself billeted.
In a country so carefully cultivated as this is, a piece of waste
land is a rarity, and therefore we had some difficulty in forming
our park, which at last was done in a small enclosed cemetery, not
without disturbing the ashes of the dead, and running some risk of
breaking our horses’ legs and our own necks, for the graves had all
been so loosely filled in that the horses sank to their shoulders
in the light soil. Our men and horses were dispersed amongst
the neighbouring farms of the commune, and though rather widely
scattered, yet most comfortably put up everywhere.
Whilst employed at the park my servant had taken my baggage to my
billet, so that on repairing thither I found Madame la Juge, _en
habit de Dimanches_, already waiting at the door to receive me. A
fine and handsome woman, perhaps turned of thirty, and possessing a
degree of _embonpoint_ which, whilst it added dignity to her air,
detracted nothing from the grace of her person. She received me with
more than common politeness, with kindness and cordiality, which, as
an intruder, I felt I had no right to expect, and, conducting me into
the house, assured me that it should be her study to render my stay
at St Gille as agreeable as possible, ushering me into an apartment
destined for my use, and offering the assistance of her servants--in
short, the whole house was at my disposal. All this was not mere
compliment, for in good truth she kept her word to the very letter.
I never experienced greater kindness, or more sincere hospitality,
and under such circumstances soon felt myself perfectly at home in my
neat lodgings.
What a contrast was this to the gloomy billet I left in the morning
in the silent, solitary Rue de Bruges! Here everything was light,
airy, and cheerful. But I must describe my new home. The _apartment_
consisted of a saloon of about eighteen feet square, with a little
cabinet or sleeping-room adjoining and opening from it. Both were
as clean as it was possible to conceive anything could be, and
the white walls perfectly immaculate. Furniture of the simplest
kind--chairs of oak or walnut ranged along the walls, two tables
covered with oil-cloth, neat but scanty window-curtains, with
draperies and fringe, and a most brilliant stove, _en faïence_,
ornamented with brass-work, standing out nearly in the middle of
the floor; that floor of red tiles, or brick highly varnished, the
coolness of which, in the present hot weather, was highly grateful.
I have designated this room as light and airy, and truly it was
so, for it was illuminated by no less than six windows. Three of
these in the front commanded a pleasant view over the well-wooded
and beautifully-cultivated country beyond the great Brussels road,
which ran beneath them--the fields more resembling extensive gardens
than anything else. As this part of the house, projected beyond the
_porte cochère_, a window in the side afforded a peep up the road,
terminated by the town of Dendermonde, which hence appeared embosomed
in trees. Two fine acacias in front of the gateway overshadowed this
with their delicate pensile foliage, and screened it from the hot
rays of the afternoon sun. The remaining two windows in the back
looked into a delicious and carefully-kept garden, divided as usual
by those verdant hornbeam walls into different departments. Such was
my saloon. My bed-room, if so it may be called, was equally neat and
simple in its equipment: a low bedstead without curtains, bedding of
humble materials, but so clean that the most fastidious could have
found no fault with it, a chair or two, and a small dressing-table
in the single window, constituted its whole furniture. Having made
arrangements for establishing our mess here, I set off to visit my
people, who, as before mentioned, were scattered by threes and fours
all over the commune amongst the farmers; and with these good and
simple people I found them already quite at home. In most houses I
found them seated at dinner with the family--at all they had been
invited so to do; and everywhere the greatest good-humour and best
possible understanding prevailed between the host and guests. When
I asked, “Ist der meister content mit den Soldaten?”--gibberish
coined for the occasion, as they understood no French, and I no
Flemish--the answer was always a hearty “Yaw, mynheer--yaw! ist
brav--ist goot”--at the same time goodnaturedly slapping one of
them on the back, and leering archly round at the others. Boys,
women, and children would all swarm round me, exclaiming “Goot,
goot, goot!” Then, anticipating my wish to see the horses, one of
them would invite me to the stables, which, though dark, were all
warm and comfortable. Here I found our cattle stowed away, perhaps,
amongst half-a-dozen of their elephants of horses, literally living
in clover, for their racks and mangers were full of it (the finest
I ever saw), and their stalls of clean straw up to their bellies.
These good people seemed quite proud of having made the lucky brutes
so comfortable. I found afterwards from our Juge de Paix that this
bounty was in some measure repaid by the dung, which is here so
valuable that the production of one horse in four-and-twenty hours is
worth at least three or four pounds of hay, and perhaps four times
the quantity of clover.
These farming establishments were very much alike, generally
speaking; embosomed in orchards, which in their turn are surrounded
by lofty elms. The dwelling-house is usually of brick, only
one floor, a high roof, under which are the dormitories with
garret-windows, sometimes two tiers of them. On the ground-floor the
windows are large and open in the French style, outside shutters
almost invariably _green_. Commonly there are only two rooms on this
floor, one on each side of the passage, the door of which opens on
the yards, as do the windows. One of these rooms is the kitchen,
or ordinary residence of the family, the other is a _salle de
cérémonie_. In the first is the usual display of brass pans, kettles,
crockery, &c., which, with some common benches and a large table or
two, constitute its furniture. As everywhere throughout this country,
the most perfect cleanliness prevails, and the metallic lustre of the
brass is brought out as much as scrubbing can effect. The _salle_
exhibits a collection of stiff old-fashioned chairs with rush bottoms
and high upright carved backs, ponderous oaken tables, snow-white
window-curtains, and a series of very common prints, in as common
frames, suspended from the walls. These usually represent saints,
&c. On the chimney-piece waxen or earthenware figures of animals,
fruits, &c.; and frequently affixed to the wall over the centre one
sees a kind of deep frame or box with glass front, in which, amongst
cut paper, moss, or shell-work, is either a crucifix or a portrait of
the Virgin and child. The barns, stables, cow-houses, and other out
offices, form the other three sides of a square of which the front of
the dwelling is the fourth. A rough pavement of about ten or twelve
feet wide runs all round in front of the building; the remainder of
the area is one vast dunghill, having a reservoir in the centre to
receive its drainings, whilst it receives those of the cow-houses,
stables, and dwelling by means of gutters constructed for the
purpose. This precious fluid is the great dependence of the Flemish
agriculturist, as the principal fertiliser of his fields. When the
land is to be manured, it is carted out upon the grounds in a large
tub (like a brewing-tub). A boy leads the cart very slowly all over
the field, whilst a man, armed with a scoop, keeps scattering it
in all directions. It must be confessed that the fields after this
aspersion do not exhale the most savoury odours, but then nothing can
exceed their fertility. The country about Dendermonde was, generally
speaking, laid out in long narrow patches, separated from each other
sometimes by a belt of turf, sometimes by a footpath, at others by
ditches, along the edge of which might be a growth of alders, but no
regular hedges anywhere. Towards the Dender, ditches of water were
the common division, and these fields were fertilised by irrigation,
not by the scoop, and a more beautiful verdure could not be seen,
all being pastures; of the other fields or patches, each bore a
different crop, some flax, some wheat, some _trèfle_ or clover, some
buckwheat, some hops--the whole district having the appearance of
one vast garden. The soil in general was a light rich mould, but
degenerating into sand as it approached the Scheldt, on the north
side of St Gille. The absence of hedges was fully compensated by the
numerous copses that enriched the scenery in all directions, together
with the rows of trees with which almost every road was bordered, so
that, although a dead level, nothing could be more pleasing than the
pictures it presented, except the tract towards the Scheldt, which
was bleak enough.
My rounds finished, I returned to my billet, where I found our people
all assembled, and we soon sat down to a most excellent dinner. The
wine, which we had procured from the town, was thin, pale, almost
white, but of a very piquant flavour, and over it we were enjoying
ourselves, when a servant came in, and announced that M. le Juge,
having that moment returned from the town, begged permission to
pay his respects to M. le Commandant. Permission granted. Enter a
little vulgar-looking man, about sixty years of age, whose coarse
and by no means prepossessing physiognomy was not improved by the
loss of an eye; nor was his person set off to the best advantage
by his costume, consisting of a shabby blue frock, dark waistcoat
sprigged over with golden flowers, and very long drab pantaloons,
hanging about his legs in large folds, evidently unrestrained by any
suspensatory process. His head was surmounted by a sort of forage-cap
of dark-green velvet, with a band of silver lace, and a silver tassel
falling over the crown. Doffing this, with a profusion of bows he
casts his sharp single eye inquiringly round our party, exclaiming,
“M. le Commandant?” I bow. “M. le Commandant, se trouve-t-il bien
ici?” I assent, and express my gratitude to his better half for
her attentions. “Da tout, M. le Commandant, da tout! Elle n’a rien
fait que son devoir aupres de vous, M. le Commandant! Et de plus,
je vous engagé de considerer la maison and les domestiques tous à
votre service, M. le Commandant--tous, tous, tous!” (pronouncing
strongly the final _s_ of the last word) “et si, par hazard, M. le
Commandant aimerait la solitude, voilà la joli promenade là bas,”
pointing to the garden. All this passed with us as mere words; but
we had formed a wrong estimate of our Juge, who fulfilled to the
utmost his professions, and turned out a very worthy fellow. Whilst
this colloquy was in progress, our friend had established himself
at the table with less ceremony than might have been expected from
so complimentary a gentleman, and the bottle, circulating briskly,
had the usual effect of loosening tongues and tightening friendship.
M. le Juge begged to know where we had obtained our wine, which he
did not approve of; it was not such as we ought to drink; begged
permission to send for some of a very superior quality from his own
cellar. The wine is brought accordingly, a bottle drawn by Monsieur
himself with great solemnity and some grimace, relating at the same
time its whole history. Clean glasses are called for, Monsieur fills
a bumper, and after contemplating it for a moment against the light,
hands it to me with a profound inclination. In colour it exactly
resembles what is on the table. I taste it: there is not a shade of
difference in the flavour. M. le Juge fills a glass for each of my
companions, and hands it to them with the same ceremonious bow. It
was easy to see that their opinions coincided with mine; but we did
not wish to hurt the good man, and so we one and all smacked our
lips, and pronounced it excellent. He immediately ordered a further
supply, and insisted on our drinking nothing else. However, the
bottles becoming mingled on the table, none of us could distinguish
the difference, and our friend himself, I observed, filled his own
glass indiscriminately from the one and the other. He meant to treat
us, and took this way of accomplishing it, no doubt. We found him
an intelligent, facetious companion, although, as we got farther
into the night, he did get a little prosy with his anecdotes of the
good people of Dendermonde. _En revanche_, he amused us much with
a description of the process of enrolling the militia then going
on; and droll pictures he drew of the peasantry who were brought
to him for that purpose every day by the _gens-d’armés_. It would
seem that these people were forced into the service sorely against
their will, being much attached to Buonaparte, and quite averse
to the new order of things. This seemed to be the general feeling
amongst the bourgeois of Dendermonde, as far as we could learn; and
it appeared very doubtful whether our worthy host himself, although
a public functionary under the new Government, did not participate
in this rage for Napoleon and Impérialisme. Be that, however, as it
may, he was so well pleased with our society, that the first cocks
crew ere he retired, his hiccoughing adieus and twinkling eye fully
demonstrating that, for him at least, the wine was not quite such
watery stuff as we had at first imagined. To us _port-drinkers_ it
was innocuous. The next day we had leisure to look about us, and
visit Dendermonde--a place, in my mind, inseparably connected with
Corporal Trim and Uncle Toby; and no little amusement was it to my
good Juge and his spouse when I related to them the story. They
thought it all true for a time.
Whilst my comrades sought the town, I turned to the country, which
for me has infinitely more charms. The steeple of a village church
peering above the trees about a mile from us, on the Brussels
road, attracted me in that direction. The opulent village of
Lebbeke, embowered in orchards, appeared peculiarly animated as I
approached it. White tents, horses at picket in long lines, groups
of artillerymen, peasants and their waggons bringing loads of hay,
intermingled amongst the apple-trees, enlivened the scene. Three
batteries of 9-pounders were parked in the orchards, and their people
partly billeted in the farms, partly encamped near their guns. It was
a curious medley of peace and war. Here a large barn by the roadside,
its doors thrown wide open, and peasants within busily occupied in
threshing, spoke of the former; the guns and their accompaniments in
the opposite orchard, of the latter--the horses, looking cool and
comfortable under the shade of a fine row of elms, quietly eating
their hay, or playfully biting each other. Gunners and drivers, half
undressed, were lounging about the tents, or sitting on the wall by
the roadside, contentedly smoking their pipes; others busy cleaning
their appointments, or raking up the hay in front of the horses.
Large, substantial-looking farm-houses principally formed the village
street, and by their comfortable appearance aroused the taste for
rural life; but this would be overset by the sight of an officer,
his coat unbuttoned, forage-cap on head, and cigar in mouth, lolling
listlessly out of a casement, as if perfectly at home--a sight
directly antagonistic to the tranquillity of rural retirement.
The Flemish waggons, with their teams and drivers, bringing loads
of hay, amused me much--long-bodied, and on low wheels, drawn by
four, and sometimes five, immense animals, overloaded with fat.
The waggoner, walking beside the fore-wheels, guides his team with
some dexterity by means of long reins of cord running through holes
in the haims. The horses are harnessed two and two, if the team
be of four--otherwise two in the wheel and three leaders abreast,
always separated from the wheelers by exceedingly long traces; the
pole invariably used. The richer farmers, as with us, affect great
show in their teams, the harness being gay with fringes and tassels
of coloured worsted, and the haims are always particularly fine.
These are of wood, flat, about four or five inches broad, the edges
frequently studded with brass nails, the front decorated with painted
flowers, and often with the Imperial eagle. The overgrown horses are
pampered like pet lapdogs, and never required to do one quarter of
the work they are capable of. They are noble brutes.
However rich the scenery of this country may be from its cultivation,
still, in an Englishman’s eye, there is something wanting. Except on
the pastures along the Dender, no cattle are ever seen animating the
fields. The absence of hedges or other fences obliges the farmer to
keep these shut up, except for a short period after the harvest, when
they are turned out to pick up what they can along the borders and on
the _trèf_ layers.
The quantity of manure accumulated by keeping them up is
considerable, and no doubt enters into the farmer’s calculation.
Sheep in small flocks (for I do not see that any large ones are kept)
are taken out to pasture by a shepherd and two or three dogs--not at
all resembling our sheep-dogs, except in sagacity, but small black
curs with long tails. I have seen one of these shepherds dozing
on a bank by the roadside, whilst his little flock, grazing in an
adjoining slip of grass-land, was quite as efficiently watched as if
the fellow had been wide awake. This slip was bounded on three sides
by young wheat, and on each of the dividing borders was posted one
of these curs. As the flock moved forward or backward so did the
dogs; and whilst they fed, these intelligent animals kept incessantly
running backwards and forwards on their post like sentinels,
instantly darting at any sheep that attempted to break bounds, and
driving it back into the grass-plot. The day was exceedingly warm,
and their lolling tongues proclaimed that the little animals had no
very light task of it, whatever their master’s might be.
The town of Dendermonde (of which I saw but little) is situated
on the right bank of the Scheldt, at the point where the little
river Dender flows into it, as the name imports--Dender mond or
mund--_Dender mouth_. This river flows through it, and, being
backed up by sluices, forms the basin I noticed on the day of our
arrival. It is not large, and its population might be about 5000 or
6000--manufacturers of linens, fustians, &c. &c. The fortifications
have nearly disappeared, the only remnant that I saw being something
like a ravelin on the Alost side. It is, however, so surrounded by
water, and the country is so flat, that an extensive inundation could
soon be formed to supply their place if necessary. The general
aspect of the town is mean and gloomy, but on the side next to St
Gille were several good-looking houses, though all built of the same
dark stone. We saw here more pretty women, however, than we had yet
met with, always excepting in Zêle.