Hougomont，--this was a funereal spot， the beginning of the obstacle， the first resistance， which that great wood-cutter of Europe， called Napoleon， encountered at Waterloo， the first knot under the blows of his axe.
It was a chateau; it is no longer anything but a farm. For the antiquary， Hougomont is Hugomons. This manor was built by Hugo， Sire of Somerel， the same who endowed the sixth chaplaincy of the Abbey of Villiers.
The traveller pushed open the door， elbowed an ancient calash under the porch， and entered the courtyard.
The first thing which struck him in this paddock was a door of the sixteenth century， which here simulates an arcade， everything else having fallen prostrate around it. A monumental aspect often has its birth in ruin. In a wall near the arcade opens another arched door， of the time of Henry IV.， permitting a glimpse of the trees of an orchard; beside this door， a manure-hole， some pickaxes， some shovels， some carts， an old well， with its flagstone and its iron reel， a chicken jumping， and a turkey spreading its tail， a chapel surmounted by a small bell-tower， a blossoming pear-tree trained in espalier against the wall of the chapel--behold the court， the conquest of which was one of Napoleon's dreams. This corner of earth， could he but have seized it， would， perhaps， have given him the world likewise. Chickens are scattering its dust abroad with their beaks. A growl is audible; it is a huge dog， who shows his teeth and replaces the English.
The English behaved admirably there. Cooke's four companies of guards there held out for seven hours against the fury of an army.
Hougomont viewed on the map， as a geometrical plan， comprising buildings and enclosures， presents a sort of irregular rectangle， one angle of which is nicked out. It is this angle which contains the southern door， guarded by this wall， which commands it only a gun's length away. Hougomont has two doors，--the southern door， that of the chateau; and the northern door， belonging to the farm. Napoleon sent his brother Jerome against Hougomont; the divisions of Foy， Guilleminot， and Bachelu hurled themselves against it; nearly the entire corps of Reille was employed against it， and miscarried; Kellermann's balls were exhausted on this heroic section of wall. Bauduin's brigade was not strong enough to force Hougomont on the north， and the brigade of Soye could not do more than effect the beginning of a breach on the south， but without taking it.
The farm buildings border the courtyard on the south. A bit of the north door， broken by the French， hangs suspended to the wall. It consists of four planks nailed to two cross-beams， on which the scars of the attack are visible.
The northern door， which was beaten in by the French， and which has had a piece applied to it to replace the panel suspended on the wall， stands half-open at the bottom of the paddock; it is cut squarely in the wall， built of stone below， of brick above which closes in the courtyard on the north. It is a simple door for carts， such as exist in all farms， with the two large leaves made of rustic planks: beyond lie the meadows. The dispute over this entrance was furious. For a long time， all sorts of imprints of bloody hands were visible on the door-posts. It was there that Bauduin was killed.
The storm of the combat still lingers in this courtyard; its horror is visible there; the confusion of the fray was petrified there; it lives and it dies there; it was only yesterday. The walls are in the death agony， the stones fall; the breaches cry aloud; the holes are wounds; the drooping， quivering trees seem to be making an effort to flee.
This courtyard was more built up in 1815 than it is to-day. Buildings which have since been pulled down then formed redans and angles.
The English barricaded themselves there; the French made their way in， but could not stand their ground. Beside the chapel， one wing of the chateau， the only ruin now remaining of the manor of Hougomont， rises in a crumbling state，--disembowelled， one might say. The chateau served for a dungeon， the chapel for a block-house. There men exterminated each other. The French， fired on from every point，--from behind the walls， from the summits of the garrets， from the depths of the cellars， through all the casements， through all the air-holes， through every crack in the stones，-- fetched fagots and set fire to walls and men; the reply to the grape-shot was a conflagration.
In the ruined wing， through windows garnished with bars of iron， the dismantled chambers of the main building of brick are visible; the English guards were in ambush in these rooms; the spiral of the staircase， cracked from the ground floor to the very roof， appears like the inside of a broken shell. The staircase has two stories; the English， besieged on the staircase， and massed on its upper steps， had cut off the lower steps. These consisted of large slabs of blue stone， which form a heap among the nettles. Half a score of steps still cling to the wall; on the first is cut the figure of a trident. These inaccessible steps are solid in their niches. All the rest resembles a jaw which has been denuded of its teeth. There are two old trees there: one is dead; the other is wounded at its base， and is clothed with verdure in April. Since 1815 it has taken to growing through the staircase.
A massacre took place in the chapel. The interior， which has recovered its calm， is singular. The mass has not been said there since the carnage. Nevertheless， the altar has been left there-- an altar of unpolished wood， placed against a background of roughhewn stone. Four whitewashed walls， a door opposite the altar， two small arched windows; over the door a large wooden crucifix， below the crucifix a square air-hole stopped up with a bundle of hay; on the ground， in one corner， an old window-frame with the glass all broken to pieces--such is the chapel. Near the altar there is nailed up a wooden statue of Saint Anne， of the fifteenth century; the head of the infant Jesus has been carried off by a large ball. The French， who were masters of the chapel for a moment， and were then dislodged， set fire to it. The flames filled this building; it was a perfect furnace; the door was burned， the floor was burned， the wooden Christ was not burned. The fire preyed upon his feet， of which only the blackened stumps are now to be seen; then it stopped，-- a miracle， according to the assertion of the people of the neighborhood. The infant Jesus， decapitated， was less fortunate than the Christ.
The walls are covered with inscriptions. Near the feet of Christ this name is to be read: Henquinez. Then these others: Conde de Rio Maior Marques y Marquesa de Almagro (Habana). There are French names with exclamation points，--a sign of wrath. The wall was freshly whitewashed in 1849. The nations insulted each other there.
It was at the door of this chapel that the corpse was picked up which held an axe in its hand; this corpse was Sub-Lieutenant Legros.
On emerging from the chapel， a well is visible on the left. There are two in this courtyard. One inquires， Why is there no bucket and pulley to this? It is because water is no longer drawn there. Why is water not drawn there? Because it is full of skeletons.
The last person who drew water from the well was named Guillaume van Kylsom. He was a peasant who lived at Hougomont， and was gardener there. On the 18th of June， 1815， his family fled and concealed themselves in the woods.
The forest surrounding the Abbey of Villiers sheltered these unfortunate people who had been scattered abroad， for many days and nights. There are at this day certain traces recognizable， such as old boles of burned trees， which mark the site of these poor bivouacs trembling in the depths of the thickets.
Guillaume van Kylsom remained at Hougomont， "to guard the chateau，" and concealed himself in the cellar. The English discovered him there. They tore him from his hiding-place， and the combatants forced this frightened man to serve them， by administering blows with the flats of their swords. They were thirsty; this Guillaume brought them water. It was from this well that he drew it. Many drank there their last draught. This well where drank so many of the dead was destined to die itself.
After the engagement， they were in haste to bury the dead bodies. Death has a fashion of harassing victory， and she causes the pest to follow glory. The typhus is a concomitant of triumph. This well was deep， and it was turned into a sepulchre. Three hundred dead bodies were cast into it. With too much haste perhaps. Were they all dead? Legend says they were not. It seems that on the night succeeding the interment， feeble voices were heard calling from the well.
This well is isolated in the middle of the courtyard. Three walls， part stone， part brick， and simulating a small， square tower， and folded like the leaves of a screen， surround it on all sides. The fourth side is open. It is there that the water was drawn. The wall at the bottom has a sort of shapeless loophole， possibly the hole made by a shell. This little tower had a platform， of which only the beams remain. The iron supports of the well on the right form a cross. On leaning over， the eye is lost in a deep cylinder of brick which is filled with a heaped-up mass of shadows. The base of the walls all about the well is concealed in a growth of nettles.
This well has not in front of it that large blue slab which forms the table for all wells in Belgium. The slab has here been replaced by a cross-beam， against which lean five or six shapeless fragments of knotty and petrified wood which resemble huge bones. There is no longer either pail， chain， or pulley; but there is still the stone basin which served the overflow. The rain-water collects there， and from time to time a bird of the neighboring forests comes thither to drink， and then flies away. One house in this ruin， the farmhouse， is still inhabited. The door of this house opens on the courtyard. Upon this door， beside a pretty Gothic lock-plate， there is an iron handle with trefoils placed slanting. At the moment when the Hanoverian lieutenant， Wilda， grasped this handle in order to take refuge in the farm， a French sapper hewed off his hand with an axe.
The family who occupy the house had for their grandfather Guillaume van Kylsom， the old gardener， dead long since. A woman with gray hair said to us: "I was there. I was three years old. My sister， who was older， was terrified and wept. They carried us off to the woods. I went there in my mother's arms. We glued our ears to the earth to hear. I imitated the cannon， and went boum! boum!"
A door opening from the courtyard on the left led into the orchard， so we were told. The orchard is terrible.
It is in three parts; one might almost say， in three acts. The first part is a garden， the second is an orchard， the third is a wood. These three parts have a common enclosure: on the side of the entrance， the buildings of the chateau and the farm; on the left， a hedge; on the right， a wall; and at the end， a wall. The wall on the right is of brick， the wall at the bottom is of stone. One enters the garden first. It slopes downwards， is planted with gooseberry bushes， choked with a wild growth of vegetation， and terminated by a monumental terrace of cut stone， with balustrade with a double curve.
It was a seignorial garden in the first French style which preceded Le Notre; to-day it is ruins and briars. The pilasters are surmounted by globes which resemble cannon-balls of stone. Forty-three balusters can still be counted on their sockets; the rest lie prostrate in the grass. Almost all bear scratches of bullets. One broken baluster is placed on the pediment like a fractured leg.
It was in this garden， further down than the orchard， that six light-infantry men of the 1st， having made their way thither， and being unable to escape， hunted down and caught like bears in their dens， accepted the combat with two Hanoverian companies， one of which was armed with carbines. The Hanoverians lined this balustrade and fired from above. The infantry men， replying from below， six against two hundred， intrepid and with no shelter save the currant-bushes， took a quarter of an hour to die.
One mounts a few steps and passes from the garden into the orchard， properly speaking. There， within the limits of those few square fathoms， fifteen hundred men fell in less than an hour. The wall seems ready to renew the combat. Thirty-eight loopholes， pierced by the English at irregular heights， are there still. In front of the sixth are placed two English tombs of granite. There are loopholes only in the south wall， as the principal attack came from that quarter. The wall is hidden on the outside by a tall hedge; the French came up， thinking that they had to deal only with a hedge， crossed it， and found the wall both an obstacle and an ambuscade， with the English guards behind it， the thirty-eight loopholes firing at once a shower of grape-shot and balls， and Soye's brigade was broken against it. Thus Waterloo began.
Nevertheless， the orchard was taken. As they had no ladders， the French scaled it with their nails. They fought hand to hand amid the trees. All this grass has been soaked in blood. A battalion of Nassau， seven hundred strong， was overwhelmed there. The outside of the wall， against which Kellermann's two batteries were trained， is gnawed by grape-shot.
This orchard is sentient， like others， in the month of May. It has its buttercups and its daisies; the grass is tall there; the cart-horses browse there; cords of hair， on which linen is drying， traverse the spaces between the trees and force the passer-by to bend his head; one walks over this uncultivated land， and one's foot dives into mole-holes. In the middle of the grass one observes an uprooted tree-bole which lies there all verdant. Major Blackmann leaned against it to die. Beneath a great tree in the neighborhood fell the German general， Duplat， descended from a French family which fled on the revocation of the Edict of Nantes. An aged and falling apple-tree leans far over to one side， its wound dressed with a bandage of straw and of clayey loam. Nearly all the apple-trees are falling with age. There is not one which has not had its bullet or its biscayan.[6] The skeletons of dead trees abound in this orchard. Crows fly through their branches， and at the end of it is a wood full of violets.
[6] A bullet as large as an egg.
Bauduin， killed， Foy wounded， conflagration， massacre， carnage， a rivulet formed of English blood， French blood， German blood mingled in fury， a well crammed with corpses， the regiment of Nassau and the regiment of Brunswick destroyed， Duplat killed， Blackmann killed， the English Guards mutilated， twenty French battalions， besides the forty from Reille's corps， decimated， three thousand men in that hovel of Hougomont alone cut down， slashed to pieces， shot， burned， with their throats cut，--and all this so that a peasant can say to-day to the traveller: Monsieur， give me three francs， and if you like， I will explain to you the affair of Waterloo!
乌古蒙是一个伤心惨目的地方，是障碍的开始，是那名叫拿破仑的欧洲大樵夫在滑铁卢遇到的初次阻力，是巨斧痛劈声中最初碰到的盘根错节。
它原是一个古堡，现在只是一个农家的庄屋了。乌古蒙对好古者来说，应当是雨果蒙。那宅子是贵人索墨雷·雨果，供奉维莱修道院第六祭坛的那位雨果起造的。
过客推开了大门，从停在门洞里的一辆旧软兜车旁边走过，便到了庭院。
在庭院里。第一件使过客注目的东西。便是一扇十六世纪的圆顶门，门旁的一切已经全坍了。宏伟的气象仍从遗迹中显示出来。在离圆顶门不远的墙上，另辟了一道门，门上有亨利四世时代的拱心石，从门洞里可以望见果园中的树林。门旁有个肥料坑、几把十字镐和尖嘴锹，还有几辆小车，一口井口有石板铺地和铁辘轳的古井，一匹小马正在蹦跳，一只火鸡正在开屏，还有一座有小钟楼的礼拜堂，一株桃树，附在礼拜堂的墙上，正开着花。这便是拿破仑当年企图攻破的那个院子的情形。这一隅之地，假使他攻破了，全世界也许就是属于他的。一群母鸡正把地上的灰尘啄得四散。他听见一阵狺吠声，是一头张牙露齿、代替英国人的大恶狗。
当年英国人在这地方是值得钦佩的。库克的四连近卫军，在一军人马猛攻之下，坚持了七个钟头。
乌古蒙，包括房屋和园子在内，在地图上，作为一个几何图形去看，是一个缺了一只角的不规则长方形。南门便在那角上，有道围墙作它最近的屏障。乌古蒙有两道门：南门和北门，也就是古堡的门和庄屋的门。拿破仑派了他的兄弟热罗姆去攻乌古蒙；吉埃米诺、富瓦和巴许吕各师全向那里进扑，雷耶的部队几乎全部用在那方面，仍归失败，克勒曼的炮弹也都消耗在那堵英雄墙上。博丹旅部从北面增援乌古蒙并非多余，索亚旅部在南面只能打个缺口，而不能加以占领。
庄屋在院子的南面。北门被法军打破的一块门板至今还挂在墙上。那是钉在两条横木上面的四块木板，攻打的伤痕还看得出。
这道北门，当时曾被法军攻破过，后来换上了一块门板，用以替代现在挂在墙上的那块；那道门正在院底半掩着，它是开在墙上的一个方洞里的，堵在院子的北面，墙的下段是石块，上段是砖。那是一道在每个庄主人家都有的那种简单的小车门，两扇门板都是粗木板做成的，更远一点，便是草地。当时两军争夺这一关口非常猛烈。门框上满是殷红的血手印，历久不褪，博丹便在此地阵亡。
鏖战的风涛还存在这院里，当时的惨状历历在目，伏尸喋血的情形宛然如在眼前；生死存亡，有如昨日；墙垣呻吟，砖石纷飞，裂口呼叫，弹孔沥血，树枝倾斜战栗，好象力图逃遁。
这院子已不象一八一五年那样完整了，许多起伏曲折、犬牙交错的工事都已拆毁。
英军在这里设过防线，法军突破过，但是守不住。古堡的侧翼仍屹立在那小礼拜堂的旁边。但是已经坍塌，可以说是徒存四壁，空无所有了，这是乌古蒙宅子仅存的残迹。当时以古堡为碉楼，礼拜堂为营寨，两军便在那里互相歼灭。法军四处受到火枪的射击，从墙后面、顶阁上、地窖底里，从每个窗口、每个通风洞、每个石头缝里都受到射击，他们便搬一捆捆树枝去烧那一带的墙和人，射击得到了火攻的回答。
那一侧翼已经毁了，人们从窗口的铁栏缝里还可以看见那些墙砖塌了的房间，当时英军埋伏在那些房间里，一道旋梯，从底到顶全破裂了，好象是个破海螺的内脏。那楼梯分两层，英军当时在楼梯上受到攻击，便聚集在上层的梯级上，并且拆毁下层。大块大块的青石板在荨麻丛里堆得象座小山，却还有十来级附在墙上，在那第一级上搠了一个三齿叉的迹印。那些高不可攀的石级，正如牙床上的牙一样，仍旧牢固地嵌在墙壁里。其余部分就好象是一块掉了牙的颚骨。那里还有两株古树：一株已经死了，一株根上受了伤，年年四月仍发青。从一八一五以来，它的枝叶渐渐穿过了楼梯。
当年在那礼拜堂里也有过一番屠杀。现在却静得出奇。自从那次流血以后，不再有人来做弥撒了。但是祭台依然存在，那是一座靠着粗石壁的粗木祭台。四堵用灰浆刷过的墙，一道对着祭台的门，两扇圆顶小窗，门上有一个高大的木十字架，十字架上面有个被一束干草堵塞了的方形通风眼，在一个墙角的地上，有一个旧玻璃窗框的残骸，这便是那礼拜堂的现状。祭台旁边，钉了一个十五世纪的圣女安娜的木刻像；童年时代的耶稣的头，它不幸也和基督一样受难，竟被一颗铳子打掉了。法军在这礼拜堂里曾一度做过主人，继又被击退，便放了一把火。这破屋里当时满是烈焰，象只火炉，门着过火，地板也着过火，基督的木雕像却不曾着火。火舌灼过他的脚，随即熄灭了，留下两段乌焦的残肢。奇迹，当地的人这样说。儿时的耶稣丢了脑袋，足见他的运气不如基督。
墙上满是游人的字迹。在那基督的脚旁写着：安吉内。还有旁的题名?b@!!!l?瘃| ?誡@着惊叹号，那是愤怒的表示。那道墙在一八四九年曾经重加粉刷，因为各国的人在那上面互相辱骂。
一个手里捏着一把板斧的尸首便是在这礼拜堂的门口找到的，那是勒格罗上尉的遗骸。
从礼拜堂出来，朝左，我们可以看见一口井。这院子里原有两口井。我们问：“为什么那口井没有吊桶和滑车了呢？”因为已经没有人到那里取水了。为什么没有人到那里取水呢？因为井里填满枯骨。
到那井里取水的最后一个人叫威廉·范·吉耳逊。他是个农民，当时在乌古蒙当园丁。一八一五年六月十八日，他的家眷曾逃到树林里去躲藏。
那些不幸的流离失所的人在维莱修道院附近的树林里躲了好几昼夜。今天还留下当年的一些痕迹，例如一些烧焦了的古树干，便标志着那些惊慌战栗的难民在树林里露宿的地点。
威廉·范·吉耳逊留在乌古蒙“看守古堡”，他蜷伏在一个地窖里。英国人发现了他。他们把这吓破了胆的人从他的藏身窟里拖出来，用刀背砍他，强迫他伏侍那些战士。他们渴，威廉便供给他们喝。他的水便是从那井里取来的。许多人都在那里喝了他们最后的一口水。这口被许多死人喝过水的井也该同归于尽。
战后大家忙着掩埋尸休。死神有一种独特的扰乱胜利的方法，它在光荣之后继以瘟疫。伤寒症往往是武功的一种副产品。那口井相当深，成了万人冢。那里面丢进了三百具尸体。也许丢得太急。他们果真全是死了的人吗？据传说是未必尽然的。好象在抛尸的那天晚上，还有人听见微弱的叫喊声从井底传出来。
那口井孤零零地在院子中间。三堵半石半砖的墙，折得和屏风的隔扇一样，象个小方塔，三面围着它。第四面是空着的。那便是取水的地方。中间那堵墙有个怪形牛眼洞，也许是个炸弹窟窿。那小塔原有一层顶板，现在只剩木架了。右边护墙的铁件作十字形。我们低着头往下望去，只看见黑魆魆一道砖砌的圆洞，深不见底。井旁的墙脚都埋在荨麻丛里。
在比利时，每口井的周围地上都铺有大块的青石板，而那口井却没有。代替青石板的，只是一条横木，上面架着五六段奇形怪状、多节、僵硬、类似长条枯骨的木头。它已没有吊桶，也没有铁链和滑车了；但盛水的石槽却还存在。雨水聚在里面，常有一只小鸟从邻近的树林中飞来啄饮，继又飞去。
在那废墟里只有一所房子，那便是庄屋，还有人住着。庄屋的门开向院子。门上有一块精致的哥特式的锁面，旁边，斜伸着一个苜蓿形的铁门钮。当日汉诺威的维尔达中尉正握着那门钮，想躲进庄屋去，一个法国敢死队员一斧子便砍下了他的手。
住这房子的那一家人的祖父叫范·吉耳逊，他便是当年的那个园丁，早已死了。一个头发灰白的妇人向您说：“当时我也住在这里。我才三岁。我的姐姐比较大，吓得直哭。他们便把我们带到树林里去了。我躲在母亲怀里。大家都把耳朵贴在地上听，我呢，我学大炮的声音，喊着‘嘣，嘣。’”
院子左边的那道门，我们已经说过，开向果园。
果园的情形惨极了。
它分三部分，我们几乎可以说三幕。第一部分是花园，第二部分是果园，第三部分是树林。这三个部分有一道总围墙，在门的这边有古堡和庄屋，左边有一道篱，右边有一道墙，后面也有一道墙。右边的墙是砖砌的，后面的墙是石砌的。我们先进花园。花园比房子低，种了些覆盆子，生满了野草，尽头处有一座高大的方石平台，栏杆的石柱全作葫芦形。那是一种贵人的花园，它那格局是最早的法国式，比勒诺特尔式还早，现在已经荒废，荆棘丛生。石柱顶端作浑圆体，类似石球。现在还有四十三根石栏杆立在它们的底座上，其余的都倒在草丛里了。几乎每根都有枪弹的伤痕。一条断了的石栏杆竖在平台的前端，如同一条断腿。
花园比果园低，第一轻装队的六个士兵曾经攻进这花园，陷在里面，好象熊落陷阱，出不去，他们受到两连汉诺威兵的攻击，其中一连还配备了火枪。汉诺威兵凭着石栏杆，向下射击。轻装队士兵从低处回射，六个人对付两百，奋不顾身，唯一的屏障只是草丛，他们坚持了一刻钟，六个人同归于尽。
我们踏上几步石级，便从花园进入真正的果园。在一块几平方脱阿斯大小的地方，一千五百人d@!!!l?瘃
