The morning star and Catholic messenger. [volume] (New Orleans [La.]) 1868-1881, 1869-09-19
THE BLIN.p. aIRL OF WATERLOO.

The little Belgic hamlet of Waterloo, al
though otherwise entirely insignificant and
embarrassing, lying some miles southerly from
Brussels was, as my reader need not be in
Formed, some fifty years since the locality of
One of the most important and desperately
contested battles of modern times. The spot
5 now classic ground; and no one, am sure,
for whom the romantic career of Napoleon has
over possessed half the interest and fascina-
ION which the perusal of its record usually
Ncites. can linger among the shattered walks
Of Hougomont La Hayc Sainte, or survey
he field from the heights of La Belle Alliance,
Nhere the Emperor staked and lost throne,
| liberty aud power, without becoming deeply
.tbSofbed III the reflections so naturally suG-
.Sested by the scene. At harvest time, Il rank
growth of grain thickly covers the ridges and
Intervals, which, as the guides tell you, grows
| o rust and decay before it rpens; and where
he grain is the richest you can easily mark
he spots where the carnage was most bloody.
70 strange did it seem that the best blood of
Hrope should be given to enrich, and to no
purpose, the fields of Waterloo.
And dOubly strange did it seem to reflect, rs
did while wandering amid these relics OF
man violence, that spectacle SO awful, so
ragic, as that switch the 18th day of June
SIS, here witnessed, should have been dis
played upon the Sabbath that of all other
| lays should have been consecrated to this
|earfnl work, which a merciful Creator set
part for rest and worship; that while the pa
ents, the brothers and sisters, the wives of
hose who here met in the struggle of death
we're sending up their prayers to heaven, in
or whom they duplicated were, it may be ut
hat scltSame moment, engaged in the work
.Df slaughter, were themselves gasping in
he aSonies of death upon tho field of rcd
|faterloo.~
And yet, much reflections like these af-
.ecfed me-sOlemn rs the thought that
ere hundreds of the bravest hearts of, France
nd England were forever stilled, leaving in
heir distant homes mourners for lifc-I must
ontess that nothing which here saw or felt
aterested or affected me half SO deeply as It
"'tss-4-44tsrd the same evening, upon
. ~ return from the battle field to the hamlet.
As we passed through the little street of the
|ltter, my attention was attracted by group,
family as judged, sitting in front of one of
he numberless shops where mementocs of the
lace are sold. There was, first, female,
Dung girl whose face, save strange vacancy
MI dreaminess in it's eXpIe ssion, impressed me
$ being extremely lovely. Further eXamina-
on, however, made me aware of the fact that
he was entirely blind. A little child evident
\ her own, to judge from the marked resem-
lance between them, stood by her side while
ose at hand, watching every slight move
lent each expression of her face, was an ath-
etIc, handsome man, whose intelligent coun-
|enance was extremely grave and Careworn.
le sad yet patient face of the blind girl, the
.Onduct of this man particularly drew my at
|ention. The contemplation of his companion
eemed to engross all his faculties he was so
bsorbed in watching her as to be almost un-
luscious Of the presence of aught else; or if
Is eyes were casually turned to some other
| Aiect, it was but for an irstant--they were
amediately directed again to her face.
Pierre,H she murmuredssftlX while we still
pod by-"Pierre, my husband, where are
Here, darling" the man quickly replied,
nj his hand was placed in her lap, so that she
build clasp it in both OF hers. "What do You
ish, Ninctte = Tell me, that might crafty
pu.'
Mother is crying" the little child artIessly
fped striving to Chamber upon her fathers
lee Speak to her, papa-bid her not to