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of that part of the armour in the effigy of Sir Hugh Calvely, in “ The Monumental Effigies of Great Britain."

This elevation on the shoulder is not unlike the hunch of a dromedary; yet, from this, and the cumbrous harness altogether, I could rather fancy myself drawn by rhinoceroses. But what most drew my attention was, the various modes of doing up the horses' tails, reminding me of a line in Shenstone, which he applies, I believe, to the fashionable head-dresses of his day,

“ Alas! so various are the ways of dressing a calf's head."

The first horses we saw had flowing, or, rather, curly tails, such as we see in the pictures of the Flemish masters; others had them tied up in the centre; others had them with a kind of double tie, such as is still seen in our barrister's wig: this, I think, is called the Ramillies wig, as at that battle the English officers tied up their full-bottomed wigs, that they might more easily attack their enemies; and it is rather an odd coincidence that this mode of dressing the tail took place near Ramillies. Some of the

tails were so long and flowing, that I said they were à la Saracénique, and might serve to do honour to a pacha of three tails. But the most singular costume of the whole was where the tail was formed into a knot, and interwoven with orange lilies, which I at first took for ribbons. This was not far from another cele brated field of battle, namely, Waterloo. It reminded me of a popular cry during the Dutch revolution, “Orange-boven," which, I was told, signifies Orange above, or at the top. Perhaps the present might mean, if it meant anything, Orange below; I know not, therefore, whether it was complimentary or otherwise, or, as I have just said, whether it had any meaning at all.

From an engraving I had seen, I recollected (though there was nothing picturesque in it) the Auberge de la Belle Alliance, where Wellington and Blucher met, which is recorded over the door. The Belgians, however, seem to have done all they could to appropriate to themselves a full share in the victory. They have raised an immense mound, with a lion on the top of it. I had lately been reading, in the Transactions of the Royal Society of Literature, an account of the locale of the battle of Marathon. That a battle at so early a period should be commemorated by a mound, or that a mound should be raised by the deposit of the dead, is natural enough ; but, when the common despatches of the commanders form matters of history, and, by a comparison of each, the truth is so easily attained (not to mention the narratives, both personal and written, of others), that a mode should be adopted of recording the event, which serves in no small degree to defeat it, is, to say the least, to be regretted.

Now the portion of earth required to raise this barrow destroys the real nature of the ground. The barrow itself, also, is of a disagreeable form, being too straight, more like a pyramid than a heap of earth, which, of all memorials, is perhaps the most appropriate. On the summit is a lion, which, if it rested on a mere slab, or two or three steps, might have appeared to great advantage; but it is raised upon an elevated base, which, in proportion to its height, detracts from the dimensions of the figure. Had it been placed on a plain, the effect would have been different, and praiseworthy; but here it only proves the ignorance of the artist. The other monuments are in a less ambitious style, and therefore may be allowed to pass without criticism ; but the church, in which, I believe, are deposited the remains of so many of our countrymen, is rather of a picturesque description. I had so recently passed through the crowd of pedestrians, equestrians, and charioteers in Hyde Park looking at the arrival of the surviving heroes of Waterloo, to dine with their noble leader at Apsley House, on the anniversary of that battle, that I felt the contrast of the present solitariness of the spot itself.

71

LETTER III.

TO A. J. KEMPE, ESQ., F. S. A.

On the Road still. Allusion to a former Journey

here. - Report concerning De Coster. - The Road to Namur. - Approach to the Town. Arrival. Supper. Singular Cradle for a Bottle of Wine. - A Bell of all Bells. Environs of the Place. Start in the Diligence for Metz. - Belgian Verdure. Rysdale's Landscapes. Little Travelling. - Road-side Worship.--Images and Altars. - The French Lady, named before by the Sexagenarian, a fellow-traveller. - Arrival at La Marche. An Attempt to Sup. - The Damsel of the Inn. A Night in the Diligence. - Society. Arrival at Arlon to Breakfast. Approach to Longwy. - Steep Ascent. - Arrival at Metz Hotel de l'Europe. Tea-making on the Continent; its Varieties and Difficulties.

My dear Brother, It was on the morning of the 1st of July that we left Brussels, and, as you have read in Mr. Bray's journal, passed, in our way to Namur, the field of Waterloo. Over this I had passed in my former visit to Belgium, under the guidance

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