Fifteen of the unfortunate Mamelukes had survived; the others had been either killed or scattered.
Two or three out of the twenty-five or thirty officers who had lodged with us called to see us as they passed through: the others were left behind, either at the farm of Hougoumont or at la Haie-Sainte, or in the famous ravine which served as a common ditch wherein ten thousand heroes were buried! My sister and her husband arrived in the midst of this rout. Thanks to M. Letellier's excellent conduct as mayor during the siege of Soissons, in 1814, his son had obtained promotion, and was made contrôleur ambulant at Villers-Cotterets.
They came in by the Paris road just as the enemy was expected from the Soissons road.
The cruelty was not so great this time, as no resistance was offered.
Napoleon had abdicated, and Napoleon the Second had been proclaimed. No one seemed to put serious belief in that proclamation, not even those who had brought it about.
One day we heard clarions playing a strange air, and saw five or six thousand men enter the main square of our town.
They were Prussians of the grand-duchy of Baden, clad in their elegant uniform, faultless, save that it is too elegant for military purposes.
An English regiment marched in along with them, and two English officers fell to our lot.
The famous haricot mutton reappeared; our guests were two fine hearty young fellows, who did ample justice to it.
They spoke no French. I, of course, knew no English at that time. One of them began to talk to me in Latin.