After leaving the field, we passed through the straggling village of Waterloo, (now the abode of cicerones and speculators in old swords, muskets, and sundry other relics of the 'grand bataille,' most of which are doubtless manufactured for the special benefit of credulous tourists), we entered a thick and beautiful grove, two or three miles long, and soon came in sight of the capital, which is nine miles from Waterloo. The general view of Brussels, on this side, is not more imposing than that of several minor towns; and the quarter we entered was still less favorable for a 'first impression.' Instead of the fortified portal, usual in insignificant villages in Germany, the city is guarded at the 'Porte de Namur' by a wooden fence, scarcely fit for a cow-pasture. In the 'Rue Haute,' which we first traversed, the houses are neither high nor handsome; most of them with gable-ends to the street, in the primitive Dutch style. But when I arrived at the 'Hotel de Bellevue,' (chosen at random from the list,) the face of things was changed. This hotel is in a large and splendid square, next to the king's palace, and the public buildings, and directly opposite the park, one of the most beautiful in Europe. The Rues Royale, de Brabant and de Zoi, which enclose that charming promenade, are decidedly superior to Rivoli, the boast of Paris. The royal palace and that of the 'prince hereditary,' are near each other, in a corner of the square; and on the opposite side, extending the whole length of the park, is the immense palace of the States' General. These buildings are all of the light cream color, so prevalent in Paris and Frankfort. The park is adorned with several fine pieces of sculpture, including a series of the Roman emperors. The views from the various avenues through the trees are magnificent. In rambling through the fairy place, I heard, from a building in the corner,
——'A sound of revelry by night,
For Belgium's capitol had gathered now
Her beauty and her chivalry.'
It certainly has gathered a quantity of English visitors, for the hotels are full of them, and they are now listening to 'music with its voluptuous swell,' at the opera, where I doubt not
'Soft eyes look love to eyes which speak again,
And all goes merry as a marriage bell.'
18th.—Just finished lionizing. Firstly, churches; St. Jacques; Corinthian order; remarkably elegant and tasteful: Notre Dame des Victoires, Notre Dame de Chapelle, and St. Michael; cathedrals richly adorned with paintings and sculpture. The towers of St. Michael are massive and conspicuous objects in the panorama of the city; and the magnificence of the interior is really astonishing. High mass was here also in operation in more than usual splendor, but I need not detail the ceremonies, with which I am free to say I was more amused than edified. In these cathedrals, as you are aware, there are no such things as pews, or permanent seats. The multitude are content to kneel on the cold stone floor, or if perchance a few chairs are provided, the occupants are often interrupted in their 'Ave Marias' by a summons for the rent thereof. Much did some of them seem to marvel that my heretical self touched not the holy water. 'While I stood wrapped in the wonder of it,' comes up a batallion of about one hundred young ladies, all dressed alike, in black silk frocks and straw bonnets, respectable and intelligent-looking girls, probably belonging to some large Catholic seminary. They were escorted by two ladies into the choir.
Close by Notre Dame, I passed a grog-shop with this sign, verbatim.
'À LA GRACE DE DIEU:
VALENTINE, MARCHAND D'EPICERIES ET LIQUEURS.'
In all these churches there are little chapels around the walls, dedicated to the different saints, with contribution-boxes at the entrance, labelled in French and Dutch, 'Ici on offre à St. Roch, patron contre maladies contagieuse.' 'Ici on offre à St. Antoine patron contre;' something else, I forget what. 'Ici on offre à Notre Dame des doleurs aux pieds de la croix;' and so on.