At the distance of six miles from Laon, the descent begins to the plain below, down the side of a deep ravine, beautifully clothed with woods and vineyards. On the other side of this ravine lies the plateau on which the battle of Craon was fought, whose level desolate surface seemed a fit theatre for the struggle that was there maintained. At the bottom of the ravine the road passes a long line of villages, surrounded with wood and gardens, which had been wholly ruined by the operations of the armies; and among the neighbouring woods we were shewn numerous graves both of French and Russian soldiers.
The approach to Laon lies through a great morass, covered in different places with low brushwood, and intersected only by the narrow chaussèe on which the road is laid. The appearance of the town is very striking; standing on a hill in the centre of a plain of 10 or 12 miles in diameter, bounded on all sides by steep and wooded ridges. It is surrounded by an old wall, and some decayed towers, and is adorned by some fine Gothic spires, whose apparent magnitude is much increased by the elevated station on which they are placed.
In crossing this chaussèe, we were immediately struck with the extraordinary policy of Bonaparte, in attacking the Russian army posted on the heights of Laon, where his only retreat was by the narrow road we were traversing, which for several miles, ran through a morass, impassible for carriages or artillery. This appeared the more wonderful, as the army he was attacking was more numerous than his own, composed of admirable troops, and posted in a position where little hopes of success could be entertained. It was an error of the same kind as he committed at Leipsic, when he gave battle to the allied armies with a single bridge and a long defile in his rear. It is laid down as one of the first maxims of war, by Frederic the Great, "never to fight an enemy with a bridge or defile in your rear: as if you are defeated, the ruin of the army must ensue in the confusion which the narrowness of the retreat creates." We cannot suppose so great a general as Bonaparte to have been ignorant of so established a principle, or a rule which common sense appears so obviously to dictate; it is more probable, that in the confidence which the long habit of success had occasioned, he never contemplated the possibility of a defeat, nor took any measures whatever for ensuring the safety of his army in the event of a retreat. Be this as it may, it is certain that he fought at Laon with a morass, crossed by a single chaussèe, in his rear, and that if he had been totally defeated, instead of being repulsed in the action which then took place, his army must have been irretrievably ruined, in the narrow line over which their retreat was of necessity conducted.
At the foot of the hill of Laon is placed a small village named Semilly, in which a desperate conflict had evidently been maintained. The trees were riddled with the cannon-shot; the walls were pierced for the fire of infantry, and the houses all in ruins, from the showers of balls to which they had been exposed. The steep declivity of the hill itself was covered with gardens and vineyards, in which the allied army had been posted during the continuance of the conflict; but though three months had not elapsed since the period when they were filled with hostile troops, no traces of desolation were to be seen, nor any thing which could indicate the occurrence of any extraordinary events. The vines grew in the utmost luxuriance on the spot where columns of infantry had so recently stood, and the garden cultivation appeared in all its neatness, on the very ground which had been lately traversed by all the apparatus of modern warfare. It would have been impossible for any one to have conceived, that the destruction they occasioned could so soon have been repaired; or that the powers of Nature, in that genial climate, could so rapidly have effaced all traces of the desolation which marked the track of human ambition.
The town of Laon itself contains little worthy of note; but the view from its ramparts, though not extensive, was one of the most pleasing which we had seen in France. The little plain with which the town is surrounded, is varied with woods, corn fields, and vineyards; the view is closed on every side by a ridge of hills, which form a circular boundary round its farthest extremity, while the foreground is finely marked by the decaying towers of the fortress, or the dark foliage which shades its ramparts.
We walked over the field of battle with a degree of interest, which nothing but the memorable operations of which it had formerly been the theatre, could possibly have excited. The accounts of the action, which we received from the inhabitants of the town, and peasantry in its vicinity, agreed perfectly with the official details which we had previously read; and although we could not give an opinion with confidence on a military question, it certainly appeared to us, that the operations of the French army had been ill combined. Indeed, some French officers with whom we conversed on the next day, allowed that the battle had been ill fought, but, as usual, laid all the blame upon Marmont. The main body of the French army, advancing by the road from Soissons, attacked the villages of Ardon and Semilly in front of the town, on the centre of Marshal Blucher's position, and his right wing, which was posted in the intersected ground to the west of the town, on the morning of the 9th of March. These parts of the position were occupied chiefly by the corps of Woronzoff and Buloff, and as they were very strong, no impression was made on them, and the troops who defended them maintained themselves, without support from the reserves, during the whole day. Late in the evening, the corps of Marmont, with a body of cavalry under Arrighi, appeared on the road from Rheims, advancing apparently without any communication or concert with the troops under Napoleon in person, (who were drawn up, for the most part, in heavy columns, in the immediate vicinity of the Soissons road), and made a furious attack on the extreme left of Marshal Blucher's position. The Marshal being satisfied by this time, that the troops in position about the town were adequate to the defence of it against Napoleon's force, was enabled to detach the whole corps of York, Kleist, and Sacken, with the greater part of his cavalry, to oppose Marmont, who was instantly overthrown, cut off from all communication with Napoleon, and driven across the Aisne, with the loss of four or five thousand prisoners, and forty pieces of cannon. The only assistance which Napoleon could give him in his retreat, was by renewing the attack on Ardon and Semilly, which he did next morning, and maintained the action during the whole of the 10th, with no other effect, than preventing the pursuit of Marmont from being followed up by the vigour which might otherwise have been displayed by the Silesian army, notwithstanding the fatigues which they had undergone at that time, during six weeks of continued marching and fighting.
The village of Athies, where the contest with Marmont's corps was decided, containing about 200 houses, had been completely burnt in the time of the action; and, when we were there, little progress had been made in rebuilding it, but the inhabitants, then living in temporary sheds, displayed their usual cheerfulness and equanimity; they were very loud in reprobation of the military conduct of Marmont, and very anxious to convince us, that the French had been overwhelmed only by great superiority of numbers, and that the allies might have completely cut off the retreat of Marmont towards Rheims, if they had known how to profit by their success.
June 8th, we left Laon at sunrise, and took the road to St Quentin. For a few miles the road passes through the plain in which the town is placed, after which it enters a pass, formed between the sloping hills, by which its boundary is marked. These hills are, for the most part, soft and green, like those on the banks of the Yarrow in Scotland, but varied, in some places, by woods and orchards; and their lower declivities are every where covered by vineyards and garden cultivation. Near their foot is placed the village of Cressy, which struck us as the most comfortable we had seen in France. The houses are all neat and substantial, covered with excellent slated roofs, and lighted by large windows, each surrounded by a little garden, and exhibiting a degree of comfort rarely to be met with among the dwellings of the French peasantry. On inquiry, we found that these peasants had long been proprietors of their houses, with the gardens attached, and had each a vineyard on the adjoining heights. The effects of long established property were here very apparent in the habits of comfort and industry, which, in process of time, it had ingrafted upon the dispositions and wishes of the people.
After passing the ridge of little hills, through banks clothed with hanging woods, the road descends into a little circular valley, surrounded on all sides by rising grounds, which presented a scene of the most perfect rural beauty. The upper part of the hills were covered with luxuriant woods, whose flowing outline suited the expression of softness and repose by which the scene was distinguished; on the declivities below the wood, the vineyards, gardens, and fruit-trees, covered the sunny banks which descended into the plain, while the lower part of the valley was filled with a village, embosomed in fruit-trees, ornamented only by a simple spire. It is impossible for language to convey an adequate idea of the beauty of this exquisite scene; it united the interest of romantic scenery with the charm of cultivated nature, and seemed placed in this sequestered valley, to combine all that was delightful in rural life. When we first beheld it, the sun was newly risen; his increasing rays threw a soft light over the wooded hills, and illuminated the summit of the village spire; the grass and the vines were still glittering in the morning dew, and the songs of the peasants were heard on all sides, cheering the beginning of their early labour. The marks of cultivation harmonized with the expression by which the scene was characterised; they were emblematic only of human happiness, and had a tendency to induce the momentary belief, that in this sequestered spot the human species shared in the fulness of universal joy.
As we descended into the valley, we perceived a great chateau near the western extremity of the village of Foudrain, which appeared still to be inhabited, and had none of the appearance of decay by which all that we had hitherto seen were distinguished. It belongs to the Chevalier Brancas, who is proprietor of this and seven or eight of the adjoining villages, and whose estates extend over a great part of the surrounding country. On enquiry, we found that this great proprietor had, long before the revolution, pursued a most enlightened and indulgent conduct towards his peasantry, giving them leases of their houses and gardens of 20 or 30 years, and never removing any even at the expiration of that period, if their conduct had been industrious during its continuance. The good effects of this liberal policy have appeared in the most striking manner, not only in the increased industry and enlarged wealth of the tenants; but in the moderate, loyal conduct which they pursued, during the eventful period of the revolution. The farmers on this estate are some of the richest in France; many being possessed of a capital of 15,000 or 16,000 francs, (from £. 750 to £. 800 Sterling,) a very large sum in that country, and amply sufficient for the management of the farms which they possessed. Their houses are neat and comfortable in the most remarkable degree, and the farm-steadings as extensive and substantial as in the most improved districts of England. The ground is cultivated with the utmost care, and the industry of the peasants is conspicuous in every part of agricultural management. It was impossible, in comparing these prosperous dwellings with the decayed villages in most other parts of the country, not to discern, in the clearest manner, the salutary influence of individual security upon the labouring classes; and the tendency which the certainty of enjoying the fruits of their labour has, not merely in increasing their present industry, but awakening those wishes of improvement, and engendering those habits of comfort; which are the only true foundation of public happiness.