n more particularly the object of vengeance; it was throughout
nearly a repetition of the suburbs of Soissons. Laon rises like a sort
of Gibraltar from a rich and beautiful plain covered with little woods,
vineyards, villages, and cornfields; the summit is crowned with an old
castle, the town with its Cathedral towers and a parcel of windmills.
Buonaparte had been extremely anxious to dislodge the allies; for two
days made a furious and almost incessant attack, which was fortunately
unsuccessful owing, to speak in French terms, to _la petite trahison_,
in plain English, the bravery of the Russians, who not only withstood
the repeated shocks, but pursued the enemy all the way to Soissons,
every little copse and wood becoming a scene of contest, and the whole
plain was strewed with dead. Since quitting Rouen I do not recollect any
town at all to be compared with Laon either in point of scenery without
or picturesque beauty within; it is one of the most curious old places I
ever saw--Round Towers, Gateways, &c. We took up our quarters at an
odd-looking Inn, with the nicest people we had met with for some time.
They spoke with horror of the miseries they had undergone in this Inn,
not much larger than Cutts' at Wilmslow; they had daily to feed and
accommodate for upwards of two months 150 Russians of all descriptions,
and this at a moment when provisions were, of course, extremely dear.
The landlord's daughter with two friends were imprisoned, actually
afraid of putting their noses beyond the keyhole; luckily they could
make artificial flowers, and two of them drew remarkably well; a
favourite dog of the landlord's was their companion. A Cossack had one
day taken him by the tail with the firm intent to put him on the kitchen
fire, the bare recollection of which kindled all our host's anger, and
he declared that had his poor dog been roasted, though he well knew the
consequence, he should have shot the Cossack; fortunately the dog
escaped, but as his Master assured me, never smelt or heard a Cossack's
name mentioned afterwards without popping his tail between his legs and
making off with the utmost speed. Both at this place and at Soissons we
met with people with whom Davenport[80] had lodged, and in both places
he has established a character which reflects the highest credit on his
activity, humanity, and generosity. He was no idle spectator; he went
about endeavouring by every means in his power to alleviate the miseries
of