Our march now lay in the direction of Paris, and being made all in the daytime, caused us very little fatigue, as we halted often, besides always encamping or billeting at night. We never fell in with the enemy ourselves, though some few collisions took place between the Prussians and French after this, and likewise some towns were taken by our army; but beyond that our march was generally quiet, and we continued on to within a few miles of, and in sight of Paris, where we remained for a short time, coming up here with our allies the Prussians. They had already opened fire on that city of despotism, which was returned faintly by the enemy; but once the balance is turned, and once a man, however great, is defeated, all seem to forsake him, and he immediately becomes an usurper, as was shown to be true in this Napoleon’s case. There is not a doubt that the populace would have held to him if he had been a conqueror, but as it was, the whole city now changed its sentiments from Napoleon to Louis XVIII., who had advanced with us with about fifty of his own guards.

On our approach to the city the inhabitants soon sent a flag of truce for terms, and the firing having ceased on both sides, these were agreed upon, and the city gates were opened. Napoleon Buonaparte had previously flown to the coast to get a ship to America, but not finding one at hand, and fearing that if he stayed on land he might on account of his unpopularity be taken prisoner by his own bloodthirsty people, he went on board and gave himself up to the captain of one of our ships of the line, a seventy-four called the Bellerophon. I remember that owing to that event she was very commonly known amongst us as the “Billy Ruff’un,” and we used to aggravate the people not a little on our march into the city, by singing, “God save Buonaparte, who has fled and given himself up to the Billy Ruff’uns,” in opposition to their cry of “God save the king;” thousands of them having come out with white cockades in their hats to welcome the king. They even wanted to take the horses out of his carriage and draw him into the city, but Lord Wellington would not allow this, knowing well their changeable disposition, and fearing they might make their king a head shorter by the morning.

The king therefore slept that night at St. Denis, a few miles from Paris, and on the following morning about three thousand men with cannon and cavalry were ordered to convey him into the city, amongst whom was myself. We started at about eleven or twelve o’clock, still not knowing how we should be welcomed, which was the reason for this large force being thought necessary; but as we met with no opposition at the entrance, the bands of each regiment soon struck up, and on proceeding through the streets we found flags from endless windows, and the cry, “God save the king!” resounding everywhere. Our destination was of course the palace, where the king was again placed on his throne, with a strong guard to protect his person.

After this we saw no more of Napoleon’s army, nor did we want to much, for most of us had had quite enough of it at Waterloo, and now we found ourselves comfortably quartered at the different barracks throughout the city, where we remained for three months or so scarcely wanting for anything but money. During this time it became my duty to be one of the king’s guard two or three times at the palace, which was a splendid place, with fine grounds and a beautiful river running at the back. Nothing of particular note occurred whilst we were staying here, and on leaving it at the end of the time we encamped on Marshal Ney’s own property in front of his residence or palace. At that time there could not have been much less than two hundred thousand troops encamped in various parts of and around Paris, and those all of foreign nations: truly a downfall for that noble but despotic city.

In the November of the same year Marshal Ney was brought to justice as a traitor. He was tried by his own country’s law, Lord Wellington having nothing to do with the matter, and being found guilty, was shot. I believe that he was generally liked by the army he commanded through nearly the whole of the Peninsular campaign.

The Bourbons, on their part, were evidently not liked by the French, for the next heir to Louis XVIII. was assassinated in the streets. His duchess however, very shortly afterwards had a son, and so there was soon another of the family in the way. Still these ill-disposed French people could not rest, and the next thing was that two men were caught in the act of undermining the palace, with a view to blow the duchess and her child up. They were tried and sentenced to be guillotined, but the sentence was never carried into effect, as the duchess, in spite of her husband having been killed by the same party, begged their lives of the king, and they were transported for life instead.

During our stay in the environs of Paris the whole army was reviewed by two English Dukes; one of them was the Duke of York, but the other’s name I am not able to give, as I never heard. A sham fight was likewise held, in which I should say more powder was thrown away than at Waterloo itself; and I am positive I was quite as tired after it as at Waterloo, for it lasted all day, and a great deal more marching took place than did there, for we were on the move the whole time, while at Waterloo we did not advance or retreat more than a hundred yards during the entire action.

The inhabitants kept up a continual market at the rear of our camp, which was always guarded by sentries to prevent plunder, and so we could always easily obtain supplies of every description.

While we were lying there several of the wounded who had recovered rejoined the army from Brussels, and with some of these Bartram made his appearance, the man whom I mentioned as having smelt powder at the beginning of the 18th of June, and having so cowardly fallen out of his rank. As soon as I saw him I put him in the rear-guard as a prisoner, and reported him, as it was my duty to do, to the captain of my company. Next day a court-martial was ordered, I being the chief but not the only evidence against him, and being sentenced to three hundred lashes as a punishment for absenting himself from the field of action, he was tied up and received every lash.

This may seem to some a hard case, three hundred lashes for absenting himself, but it must be remembered that had there been many like this man, for I cannot call him a soldier, that day would most decidedly have ended in favour of the French. When taken down he was sent to hospital for three weeks and then came back to us, but even then he was not quite free, for I had orders from the captain to examine his kit to see if everything was complete, and I found his knapsack completely empty. I then searched his pouch and found all his ammunition gone. I was not much surprised at this, knowing that he did not like the smell of powder; but I reported these circumstances to the captain, who ordered him back to the rear-guard as a prisoner again; and the next day another court-martial was held on him for making away with his kit, and he was sentenced to three hundred more lashes, of which strange to say he received every one without crying out. He seemed to be a man without any feeling, for it may be pretty well taken for granted that the drummers did not fail in their duty towards such a man as this, for there is no one they feel more strongly against than a coward.

He was then sent for three weeks more to the hospital, and at the end of the time again joined; but the poor fellow must after that have been very miserable, for all his comrades shunned his society and would scarcely speak to him at all; and not only that, but having had a new kit and sixty rounds of ball-cartridge supplied to him, he had sixpence a day stopped out of his money till they were paid for, his pay being only thirteenpence a day, so that after another sixpence had been stopped for his food he had only one penny per day to take. I need hardly say that he was consequently always without money, and at last we missed him for two or three days, after which he returned, having again lost his kit. We found he had been into Paris and sold it for those two or three days’ maintenance, so he was again sent to the rear-guard and reported, again court-martialled and sentenced to three hundred lashes, and again received the whole to the very letter and sent to hospital for the same time. When he again rejoined he went on better for a while, but on our regiment afterwards getting to Scotland he transgressed and was flogged for a fourth time, and when he came out of hospital the colonel ordered his coat to be turned, and a large sheet of paper to be pinned on it with the words, “This is a coward, a very bad soldier, and one who has been whipped four times;” and he was then drummed out of the barracks, and I never saw anything of him again, which I was not sorry for, as he gave me more trouble than all the rest of my men put together.

The reason of our stay in and about Paris so long was to see Louis XVIII. thoroughly fixed again and in power on his throne. The armies being now moved into winter quarters chiefly in cantonments, our brigade took its route to St. Germains, which lies ten or twelve miles to the north-west of Paris on the River Seine, where we remained quartered a few months.

It was owing to this long stay, and my happening to see a young woman who gained my affections, that it fell out that I first then thought of marriage. For outside the barrack-gate where we were quartered was a movable stall, which was spread out in the day with fruit, spirits, tobacco, snuff, &c., and was cleared away at night. This was kept by the woman whom I afterwards made my wife. Her father was a gardener in business for himself, and this was the way in which he disposed of most of his goods. My first introduction was through my going to purchase a few articles that I wanted from her, and it very shortly became a general thing for me to dispose of the chief of such time as I had to spare at the stall; and thus the attachment was formed of which I am happy to say I never afterwards repented.

I happened to be at the stall one day when I saw a soldier of the Twenty-Seventh Regiment, which was stationed at the barracks as well as ours, deliberately take half a pound of tobacco which was already tied up off the stall and attempt to get off with it. But that didn’t suit me, so I pursued and overtook him, and delivered him over to his own regiment to dispose of as they thought best after I had told them the circumstances. I told them too that I didn’t wish to prosecute him myself, so I never heard anything more of him. I took the tobacco, however, back to my intended, who of course was pleased, as what young woman would not have been under the circumstances we were then in? And so our courtship went on; but for a very little while, for once we were enamoured of one another we were not long in making things all square for our union.

I made my intentions known to my captain, who I knew would not object, and he signed my paper to take to the colonel, whose permission I had next to get. The colonel could not understand at first my marrying a Frenchwoman, but he nevertheless consented, saying that she would do to teach the soldiers French, but that he advised me to wait till I got to England. But having got the grant, it was a question of now or never for me; so I made arrangements with the army chaplain, who fixed the time and we were duly united. It cost us nothing, for neither the parson nor clerk looked for any fee, neither were we troubled with any wedding-cake, but simply took ourselves off for a day’s merrymaking.

My wife’s maiden name had been Marie Louise Claire, but owing to Buonaparte’s first wife having been Marie Louise too, she had been compelled to drop that name and assume that of Clotilde; a proclamation having been made that no one should be called Marie Louise but the Empress, and so by that vain freak of Buonaparte’s all in France who were called Marie Louise had to change their names.

Of course before marrying her I had explained to my wife the course of life she would have to put up with, and that at any moment we might have to proceed from her native place, and even might be recalled to England, but she did not mind the prospect of all this. And at length the time arrived that we had to go, for orders were given, and that on very short notice, that we were to prepare to resume our march. A farewell had then to be taken of her parents, whom we expected never to behold again, and this cast a slight shadow for a time over my wife’s countenance, but it quickly passed away within the next few succeeding days.