THE FIELD OF WATERLOO.

HOTEL DU MUSÉE,

AT THE FOOT OF THE LION MOUNT.

This Hotel, kept by a niece of the late Sergeant-Major Cotton, is situated in the very centre of the field of Waterloo, and is strongly recommended to visitors on account of its proximity to the scenes of interest connected with the great battle, and also for the excellent accomodation and comfort it offers at moderate charges.—See Bradshaw’s continental Guide.

Wines and Spirits of the best quality. Bass’s pale Ale;
London porter, etc.

N.B.—Guide Books,—“The voice from Waterloo” by Sergeant Cotton, the most correct and cheapest account of the battle published—Plans of the field views and Photographs of all noted places always on sale at the Hotel.

A Museum of Relics shewn to visitors.

Déposé selon la loi.

Entered at Stationers’ Hall.

BRUSSELS:
J. H. Briard, Printer, 4, Rue aux Laines.

A VOICE FROM

WATERLOO

A HISTORY OF THE BATTLE

FOUGHT ON THE 18TH JUNE 1815

WITH A SELECTION FROM THE WELLINGTON DISPATCHES, GENERAL ORDERS
AND LETTERS RELATING TO THE BATTLE.
ILLUSTRATED WITH ENGRAVINGS, PORTRAITS AND PLANS.

BY

SERGEANT-MAJOR EDWARD COTTON

(LATE 7TH HUSSARS).

“Facts are stubborn things.”

SIXTH EDITION, REVISED AND ENLARGED.

PRINTED FOR THE PROPRIETOR,

MONT-ST.-JEAN,

SOLD ALSO BY THE PRINCIPAL BOOKSELLERS IN BELGIUM.

LONDON

B. GREEN, PATERNOSTER-ROW.

1862

[Pg v]

AS A TESTIMONY

of the profound admiration entertained for His Lordship by every British soldier,

THIS WORK IS HUMBLY DEDICATED

TO FIELD-MARSHAL THE MOST NOBLE

THE MARQUIS OF ANGLESEY, K.G., G.C.B., G.C.H.,

by His Lordship’s grateful servant,

E. COTTON, Sergeant-Major,

LATE 7TH HUSSARS.

TO THE SIXTH EDITION.

“A Voice from Waterloo” is the unassuming tale of an old soldier who was an eyewitness of and actor in many of the scenes he attempts to describe.

My having resided more than fourteen years on the field, as Guide, and Describer of the battle, may be considered as the parent of the present memoirs.

No one can be more convinced than I am, of my inability to do justice to the subject: but I have had great advantages in communicating personally on the spot with “Waterloo men” of every nation; all of whom, from the general to the private, have evidently considered it a duty and a pleasure to assist an old companion in arms. The inquiries and comments made by those gallant men, have afforded me opportunities of gleaning much information which no other person has obtained, and has enabled me to give a fuller and truer history of the battle, than a more talented man could have done, unless he had enjoyed the same privilege.

[viii]

One of my objects in writing, is to correct opinions which have gone forth, and which are greatly at variance with facts: opinions so erroneous as to warrant the remark of general Jomini, that “Never was a battle so confusedly described as that of Waterloo.” It is certain that the hour of many occurrences on the field has been erroneously stated: such as of the arrival, or rather becoming engaged, of the different Prussian corps; the fall of La Haye-Sainte, defeat of the Imperial guard, etc.

After the publication of so many accounts of the battle of the 18th of June, it may be fairly asked on what grounds I expect to awaken fresh interest in a subject so long before the public. Can I reconcile the conflicting statements which have already appeared in print? Can I add to the information which most of my countrymen already possess concerning this memorable epoch? Or can I present that information in a compendious and lucid form, such as the general reader may still need? Something in all these ways, I hope I have accomplished.

Putting aside some of the French and English accounts as not only irreconcilable with facts, but as self-refuted by their inconsistencies and mutual contradictions,—using such of the French narratives as agree with those of their opponents, which, as Wellington observed of Napoleon’s bulletins, may be safely relied upon as far as they tell against themselves,—I have cleared up a great number of the points disputed by our own writers, who agree in the main, but differ in some circumstances involving not merely questions of time and locality of certain events, but even the claims of individuals, regiments and brigades to the honour attached to their deeds on that day. By my long residence at Mont-St.-Jean, constant study of the[ix] surface of the battle field, knowledge of the composition and even dress of the different bodies of the French troops which stood before us, and by paying close attention to the remarks made by many a gallant comrade revisiting the spot, I have in a great measure succeeded in reconciling discrepancies which perhaps no other person could explain.

I am also emboldened to think that my “Voice from Waterloo” presents to the general reader all the leading facts of this eventful struggle, in so concise a manner, and at so moderate a cost, as to secure it a preference over every other narration of the battle.

Although not strictly belonging to “A Voice from Waterloo,” I have added, as a connecting link in the narrative, an outline map, and a sketch of the military operations of the campaign of 1815.

Most anxious to avoid the imputation of having employed the materials of others without acknowledgment, I beg to state that, besides various military periodicals, I have made use of captain Siborne’s History of the War in France and Belgium: The Military Life of the Duke of Wellington, by Major Basil Jackson and Captain Rochfort Scott; The Wellington Dispatches and General Orders, by Colonel Gurwood; Fall of Napoleon, by Colonel Mitchell; Political and Military Life of Napoleon, and The Art of War, by General Jomini; History of the King’s German Legion, by Major Beamish; Prussian History of the Campaign of 1815, by General Grollman, etc., etc.

As to the manner in which I have executed my task, I know I am open to criticism. No doubt many of my remarks will be considered too digressive. Some persons will think I am too hard upon Napoleon: my authorities in this are more frequently French than English. Others[x] will judge me too partial to the immortal Wellington.

Waterloo was termed by Napoleon, “a concurrence of unexempled fatalities, a day not to be comprehended. Was there treason? or was there only misfortune?”

Wellington said, that “he had never before fought so hard a battle, nor won so great a victory.” If the reader derive the same impression from his attention to “A Voice from Waterloo,” I shall be satisfied, because I shall have succeeded.

Edward Cotton,
Waterloo Guide, and Describer of the Battle.

Mont-St.-Jean, February, 1849.

[xviii]

[Pg 1]

A VOICE

FROM

WATERLOO.

On the 26th of February 1815, Napoleon, accompanied by about a thousand of his guards, and all his civil and military officers, secretly left the isle of Elba, and landed the 1st of March, near Cannes, on the coast of Provence. The Emperor immediately marched towards the French capital; and arrived[2] in Paris on the evening of the 20th; the same day that Louis XVIII set out for Ghent.

Joined by all the troops which had been sent to oppose him, Napoleon was enabled to re-establish his authority in France. Amongst those who rejoined him, was marshal Ney, “le Brave des Braves;” he who had so warmly expressed himself in favour of the restoration of the Bourbons, and who, when appointed to the command of a body of troops to oppose his former master, declared, whilst kissing the king’s hand, that “he would bring back Napoleon in an iron cage.” Ney and the iron cage was the chief topic of conversation in Paris, when the news of his having joined Napoleon with his corps d’armée reached that capital[1].

The great powers of Europe, then assembled in congress at Vienna, instantly declared, that Napoleon, by breaking the convention which established him as an independent sovereign at Elba, had destroyed the only legal title on which his political existence depended, placed himself without the pale of the law, and proved to the world, that there could neither be truce nor peace with him. The allied powers, in consequence, denounced Napoleon as the enemy and disturber of the tranquillity of Europe, and resolved immediately upon uniting their forces against him and his faction, to preserve, if possible, the general peace.

Notwithstanding the hostile declaration of the allied sovereigns, they were utterly unable to put their armies in motion without that most powerful lever, English gold, the real sinews of war. Britain’s expenditure in 1815, was no less than 110,000,000l. sterling; out of which immense sum 11,000,000l. were distributed as subsidies amongst the contracting powers: Austria received 1,796,220l.; Russia, 3,241,919l.; Prussia, 2,382,823l.; and Hanover, Spain, Portugal,[3] Sweden, Italy and the Netherlands, with the smaller German states, shared the remainder amongst them.

Menacing as the position of the allies towards Napoleon appeared to be, and imposing as were their armies assembling to oppose him, he assumed a bold and resolute posture of defence. The general aspect of France at that time was singularly warlike; nearly the whole nation appeared to be electrified, and buckled on its armour to join the messenger of war. The exaltation of Napoleon was soon however sobered down by the arrival in Paris of the declaration of the allied powers, which document was little calculated to produce a favourable impression as to the ultimate success of the Emperor’s enterprise. The war-cry of nearly every state in Europe was, To arms! Draw the sword, throw away the scabbard, until the usurper shall be entirely subjugated and his adherents put down.

Napoleon, however, appeared undismayed, and endeavoured, by every means, to conceal the determined resolution of Europe from the French nation, who, for the most part, cheerfully responded to their leader’s call. Troops were organized, as if by magic, all over the country. The scarred veterans of a hundred battles, they who had followed their “petit caporal” through many a gory fight, heard with joy the voice of their idolized Emperor, summoning them again to glorious war and the battle field. There was a generation of fierce, daring, war-breathing men, ever ready to range themselves under the Imperial banners. Davoust states that France, on Napoleon’s return, was overrun with soldiers just released from the prisons of Europe, most of whom counted as many battles as years, and who quickly flocked round the Imperial eagles. Transports of artillery, arms, ammunition waggons, with all the materials of war, were to be seen moving from every point towards the frontiers. France, in a short time, bore the appearance of one vast camp.

To completely surround Paris with fortifications, as Louis-Philippe has since done, was also the desire of Napoleon, who inquired of Carnot, how much time and money it would require. “Three years and two hundred millions,” replied the minister, “and when finished, I would only ask for[4] sixty thousand men and twenty-four hours to demolish the whole.”

Early in April 1815, the allied troops began to assemble in Belgium. The Anglo-Hanoverian army, commanded by the prince of Orange, (afterwards William II,) had occupied the Low-Countries for the protection of Belgium and Holland, which had been constituted by the congress of Vienna a new monarchy, under the name of the Kingdom of the Netherlands. This army comprised about 28,000 men, 15,000 being British and German troops; a part of these were the remains of lord Lynedoch’s army, and the remainder young Hanoverians. 20,000 Dutch-Belgians were raised to act in concert with these troops. The general appearance of the army is thus described by sir Henry, now lord Hardinge, in a letter to lord Stewart: “This army is not unlike lord Randscliff’s description of a French pack of hounds: pointers, poodles, turnspits, all mixed up together and running in sad confusion.”

The duke of Wellington arrived in Brussels from the congress of Vienna on the night of April 4th, and took the command of the allied army; but the Dutch-Belgian army had not been placed immediately under the Duke’s command. His Grace being strongly convinced that his power of regulating the movements of the Dutch-Belgian troops ought not to be left open to any cavil or dispute, demanded the most unequivocal statement upon this matter from the king of the Netherlands. Nothing less than this measure could have made those troops serviceable to the cause of their country; such was still the fascinating power of Napoleon’s name over countries in which his rule and conscriptions had subdued and enervated the minds of men. On the 4th of May, Wellington received copies of the king’s decrees, making him field-marshal in his service, and placing the Dutch-Belgian army entirely under his command[2]. The Duke immediately put matters in a better condition, and instructed the prince of Orange how to keep up the necessary communications[3]. He transferred[5] prince Frederick’s corps to lord Hill[4], warned the Prussian commandant at Charleroi, the duke of Berry, and all others concerned, to be on the alert; he also gave them exact accounts of the movements and strength of the enemy between Valenciennes and Maubeuge. All this was accomplished by the Duke before the 10th of May. On the 11th, he wrote to sir Henry Hardinge, then attached to the Prussian head-quarters for the purpose of communication, that he reckoned the enemy’s strength on the frontiers at 110,000 men; and was glad that Blücher was drawing his forces nearer to the British. His Grace adopted the most effective measures for placing all the fortified towns and strong places in a condition to embarrass the enemy; and notwithstanding the objections made, by interested parties, to the necessary inundations, he was firm in ordering them, wherever the general security required it. The Duke sent able engineers to limit, as much as possible, the injury arising from letting out the waters, and to inundate with fresh instead of salt water, when practicable. For this timely care of the general interests, and even, as far as it was possible, of private property, the return he met with was unceasing complaints from the authorities of the several towns, where these measures had been applied. But the Duke did his duty firmly, and, after some expostulation with unreasonable grumblers, compelled them to do theirs. On the 7th of June, he issued his orders for the defence of the towns of Antwerp, Ostend, Nieuport, Ypres, Tournay, Ath, Mons and Ghent. The governors of these respective towns were required to declare them in a state of siege, the moment the enemy should put his foot on the Belgian territory: the towns were to be defended to the utmost; and if any governor surrendered before sustaining at least one assault, and without the consent of his council, he should be deemed guilty, not only of military disobedience, but of high treason. Such decisive measures were rendered necessary, in consequence of the equivocal loyalty of many who held municipal and military rank in the Netherlands. The king had prudently invested Wellington with these important[6] powers, and no man could have exercised them more effectively.

The French court (Louis XVIII and his suite) received advice how to save themselves by retiring to Antwerp, in case the enemy should succeed in turning the British right: they were desired to be in no alarm, nor to be startled by mere rumours, but to await positive information. Having thus provided for the military wants, and even for the fears of those behind him, the Duke devoted his whole attention to the army; and in proportion as the storm approached, repeated his warnings to the Prussians, by incessant dispatches to sir Henry Hardinge. He also sent frequent instructions to his own officers who were the nearest to the enemy, to keep on the alert.

The regiment I belonged to disembarked at Ostend on the 21st of April, and we soon found there was work in hand. Swords were to be ground and well pointed, and the frequent inspections of arms, ammunition, camp equipage, etc., plainly announced that we were shortly about to take the field. The army, soon after our arrival, had, in consequence of a secret memorandum[5] issued by the duke of Wellington to the chief officers in command, drawn closer together, in the probable expectation of an attack, and our great antagonist was not the sort of man to send us word of the when and the where. Louis XVIII, with his suite and a train of followers, being with us at Ghent, we were not destitute of information. Napoleon was as well informed of all that transpired in Belgium as if it had taken place at the Tuileries.

Things continued in this state until June, when, from various rumours, we began to be more on the alert.

At the commencement of operations, the duke of Wellington’s army comprised about 105,000 men, including the troops in garrison, and composed of about 35,000 British, 6,000 King’s German legion, 24,000 Hanoverians, 7,000 Brunswickers, and 32,000 Dutch-Belgians and Nassau-men, with a hundred and ninety-six guns. Many in the ranks of the last-named troops had served under Napoleon, and there still prevailed[7] amongst them a most powerful prejudice in his favour; it was natural, therefore, that we should not place too strong a reliance upon them, whenever they might become opposed to their old companions in arms.

The Anglo-allied army was divided into two corps, of five divisions each. The first was commanded by the prince of Orange; its head-quarters being Braine-le-Comte. Those of the second corps, under lord Hill, were at Grammont. The cavalry, divided into eleven brigades, was commanded by the earl of Uxbridge, now marquis of Anglesey; head-quarters Ninove. His Grace’s head-quarters were at Brussels, in and around which place was our reserve of all arms, ready to be thrown into whatever point of our line the enemy might attack, so as to hold the ground until the rest of the army could be united.

The Prussian army, under the veteran prince Blücher, consisted of about 115,000 men, divided into four corps, each composed of four brigades. The head-quarters of the 1st, or Zieten’s corps, were at Charleroi; the 2d, Pirch’s, at Namur, which was also Blücher’s head-quarters; the 3d, Thielmann’s, at Ciney; and the 4th, Bulow’s, at Liège.

Each corps had a reserve cavalry attached, respectively commanded by generals Röder, Jurgass, Hobe, and prince William. Their artillery comprised three hundred and twelve guns.

The Prussian army was posted on the frontier upon our left, from Charleroi to Maestricht. Our left, communicating with Blücher’s right, was at Binche; and our right stretched to the sea.

A large proportion of the British troops was composed of weak second and third battalions, made up of militia and recruits, who had never been under fire[6]; most of our best-tried Spanish infantry, the victors of many a hard-fought field, were on their way from America. The foreign troops, with the exception of the old gallant Peninsular German legion, were chiefly composed of new levies, hastily embodied, and[8] very imperfectly drilled; quite inexperienced in war, raw militia-men in every sense of the word, and wholly strangers to the British troops and to each other. Nor was the Prussian army what it had been; it was no longer the old Silesian one: many soldiers had just been embodied, and thousands had fought under the Imperial eagles.

The French army of the North, commanded by the Emperor in person, and destined to act against Belgium, early in June, was divided into six corps, and cantoned: the 1st, or D’Erlon’s, at Lille; the 2d, or Reille’s, at Valenciennes; the 3d, or Vandamme’s, at Mézières; the 4th, or Gérard’s, at Metz; and the 6th, or Lobau’s, at Laon. The Imperial guard was in Paris. The reserve cavalry, commanded by generals Pajol, Excelmans, Milhaut, and Kellermann, cantoned between the Aisne, the Meuse and the Sambre. There were three hundred and fifty pieces of artillery.

On the 16th of May, we received intelligence of there being 110,000 French troops in our front. On the 1st of June, it was rumoured that we were to be attacked; Napoleon was to be at Laon on the 6th, and extraordinary preparations were being made for the conveyance of troops in carriages from Paris to the frontiers. Intelligence reached the Duke, on the 10th of the same month, that Napoleon had arrived at Maubeuge, and was passing along the frontier. On the 12th, it was ascertained, for certain, that the French army had assembled and was about to cross the frontiers[7]; but the Duke, for reasons we shall hereafter give, did not think proper to move his troops until quite satisfied as to the point where Napoleon would make his attack; that point proved to be Charleroi, on the high-road to Brussels, on the left of the allied and right of the Prussian armies, said to be the most favourable for defeating the two armies, in detail; which I am inclined to doubt. Situated as the allied and Prussian armies were, Napoleon, by attempting to wedge his army in between the two, was pretty certain of having both upon him: he could not[9] aim a blow at one enemy without being assailed in flank or rear by the other.

Brussels, the capital of Belgium, lies in the very centre of that country, which was declared by general Gneisenau, chief of the Prussian staff, to be a formidable bastion, flanking efficaciously any invasion meditated by France against Germany, and serving at the same time as a tête de pont to England.

Napoleon had numerous partisans and friends in Belgium, who secretly espoused his cause, and who, no doubt, would have seconded him in his attempt to again annex that country to the French Empire. The people also were by no means reconciled to the union forced upon them by the congress of Vienna, a union with a country differing from them in religion and customs; and the dense population and troops of Belgium might probably have made a movement in favour of the French, had Napoleon obtained possession of the capital. From the tenor of Napoleon’s letter to Ney, and his proclamations to his army and to the Belgians[8], it is quite evident that the Emperor expected a manifestation of this kind. This would certainly have added to his cause that moral force of which it stood so much in need, and have induced thousands to rally round the Imperial eagles.

Brussels was our main line of operations and the line of communication with Ostend and Antwerp, the dépôts where our reinforcements and supplies were landed. The Duke, in consequence, saw clearly, it was of the utmost importance, both in a military and political point of view, to preserve an uninterrupted communication with those ports, and that the enemy should not, even for a moment, obtain possession of Brussels[9].

By the Emperor’s masterly arrangements his army was assembled on the frontiers with astonishing secrecy; but his intention of taking the two armies by surprise was defeated, on the night of the 13th, by the Prussian outposts, in advance of Charleroi, having observed the horizon illumined by the reflection of numerous bivac fires in the direction of Beaumont[10] and Maubeuge, which announced that a numerous enemy had assembled in their immediate front; this intelligence was forthwith transmitted to both Wellington and Blücher.

Zieten, the Prussian commander at Charleroi, received intelligence, on the afternoon of the 14th, that the enemy’s columns were assembling in his front, the certain prelude to an attack, probably the next day. Blücher, apprized of this about ten o’clock the same evening, immediately sent off orders for the concentration of the Prussian army at Fleurus, a preconcerted plan between the two commanders. When the order was first sent to Bulow at Liège, to move to Hannut, had the most trifling hint been given him of the French being about to attack, he would probably have been up in time to share in the battle of Ligny, which might have changed the aspect of affairs.

After dispatching orders for the concentration of the Grand army, Napoleon left Paris on the 12th, and, as he himself states, under a great depression of spirits, aware he was leaving a host of enemies behind, more formidable than those he was going to confront. He slept at Laon, and arrived at Avesnes on the 13th, near which place he found his army assembled, amounting, according to his own account, to 122,400 men and three hundred and fifty guns. Their bivacs were behind small hills, about a league from the frontier, situated so as to be concealed, in a great measure, from the view of their opponents.

The Emperor’s arrival amongst his devoted soldiers raised their spirits to the highest degree of enthusiasm, and on the 14th he issued the following order:

About four o’clock in the morning of the 15th of June, Napoleon attacked the Prussian outposts in front of Charleroi, at Thuin and Lobbes[11]. The Prussians fell back, slowly and with great caution, on their supports. By some unaccountable neglect Willington was not informed of the attack until after three o’clock in the afternoon, although the distance from[12] Thuin and Lobbes to Brussels is but forty-five miles[12]. Had a well arranged communication been kept up, the Duke could have been informed of the first advance of the French by ten o’clock A.M., and of the real line of attack by four P.M.

The French were in possession of Charleroi by eleven o’clock. The Prussians retired to a position between Ligny and St.-Amand, nearly twenty miles from the outposts. At three o’clock in the afternoon, the 2d Prussian corps had taken position not far from Ligny; Blücher had established his head-quarters at Sombreffe. The advanced posts of the French left column were at Frasnes, three miles beyond Quatre-Bras, from which the advanced posts of the allies had been driven. Ney’s head-quarters were at Gosselies, with a part of his troops only, whilst D’Erlon’s corps and the cavalry of Kellermann were on the Sambre. The centre column of the French army lay near Fleurus, the right column near Châtelet, and the reserve, composed of the Imperial guard and the 6th corps, between Charleroi and Fleurus.

The duke of Wellington, although apprized of the advance of Napoleon and his attack on the Prussian outposts, would make no movement to leave Brussels uncovered, until certain of the real line of attack, as such attacks are often made to mask the real direction of the main body of the enemy. But orders were immediately transmitted to the different divisions to assemble and hold themselves in readiness to march, some at a moment’s notice, and some at day-light in the morning[13].

Lord Uxbridge was ordered to get the cavalry together at the head-quarters (Ninove) that night, leaving the 2d hussars of the King’s German legion on the look-out between the Scheldt and the Lys.

The troops in Brussels, composed of the 5th, or Picton’s division, the 81st regiment, and the Hanoverian brigade of the 6th division, called the reserve, were to be in readiness to march at a moment’s notice.

[13]

After the Duke had completed his arrangements for the concentration of the army, his Grace, with many of our officers, went to the celebrated ball, given, on the eve of the memorable engagement at Quatre-Bras, by the duchess of Richmond, at her residence, now Nº 9, Rue des Cendres, Boulevard Botanique, near the Porte de Cologne. The saloons of the duchess were filled with a brilliant company of distinguished guests. The officers in their magnificent uniforms, threading the mazy dance with the most lovely and beautiful women. The ball was at its height, when the duke of Wellington first received positive intelligence that Napoleon had crossed the Sambre with his whole army and taken possession of Charleroi. The excitement which ensued, on the company being made acquainted with Napoleon’s advance, was most extraordinary. The countenances which, a moment before, were lighted up with pleasure and gaiety, now wore a most solemn aspect. The duke of Brunswick, sitting with a child (the present prince de Ligne) on his knees, was so affected, that in rising he let the prince fall on the floor. The guests little imagined that the music which accompanied the gay and lively dances at her Grace’s ball, would so shortly after play martial airs on the battle field, or that some of the officers present at the fête would be seen fighting in their ball dresses, and, in that costume, found amongst the slain.

At about the same time, his Grace also received information from his outposts in front of Mons, and from other sources, which proved that the enemy’s movement upon Charleroi was the real point of attack, and he immediately issued the following orders:

Picton’s division and the Hanoverian brigade marched from Brussels about two o’clock A.M., on the 16th, taking the road to Waterloo by the forest of Soigne; near which they halted to refresh, and to await orders, to march either on Nivelles or Quatre-Bras, (the roads branching off at Mont-St.-Jean,) according as the Duke might direct, upon his becoming acquainted with the real state of affairs in front. Shortly after they were joined by the Brunswickers.

While halting, the duke of Wellington, who had left Brussels between seven and eight o’clock, passed with his staff, and gave strict orders to keep the road clear of baggage, and everything that might obstruct the movements of the troops. The duke of Brunswick dismounted, and seated himself on a bank on the road side, in company of his adjutant-general, colonel Olfermann. How little did those who observed this incident, think, that in a few hours the illustrious duke would, with many of themselves, be laid low in death! and numbers truly there were amongst the slain ere the sun set.

About twelve o’clock, orders arrived for the troops to proceed on to Quatre-Bras, leaving the baggage behind; this[15] looked rather warlike, but as yet nothing was known for certain. The Duke galloped on, and, after a hasty glance at the Waterloo position, rode to Quatre-Bras, where he conversed with the prince of Orange respecting the disposition of the troops as they arrived. His Grace well reconnoitred the enemy’s position. Seeing the latter were not in great force, he rode on to hold a conference with Blücher, whom he found about half-past one o’clock P.M. at the wind-mill at Bussy, between Ligny and Bry, where towards noon, by great activity and exertion, three corps of the Prussian army, about 85,000 men, had been put in position, but so disposed as to draw from the Duke his disapprobation of the arrangements. His Grace saw that the enemy were strong in Blücher’s front, and promising to support his gallant and venerable colleague, shook hands and returned to Quatre-Bras, where he arrived at about half-past two o’clock, soon after which time Napoleon began his attack upon Blücher.

Marshal Ney, who commanded the French troops at Quatre-Bras, commenced his attack upon Perponcher’s Dutch-Belgian division under the prince of Orange. About two o’clock, Picton’s division came up, composed of Kempt’s brigade, the 28th, 32d, 79th Highlanders, and 1st battalion 95th rifles, and of Pack’s brigade, the 1st Royal, 44th, 42d and 92d Highlanders, with Best’s Hanoverian brigade; soon after, the Brunswickers arrived incomplete, and some Nassau troops. Towards six o’clock, sir Colin Halkett’s brigade, the 30th, 33d, 69th, and 73d regiments, also Kielmansegge’s Hanoverian brigade, most opportunely reached the scene of action. Pack’s noble fellows were by this time so hard pressed, so much exhausted, and their ammunition was so nearly expended, that sir Denis Pack applied for a fresh supply of cartridges, or assistance, to sir Colin Halkett, who immediately ordered the 69th to push on and obey any orders given by Pack; the latter then galloped forward to a commanding point, and soon discovered the formation of a large force of cuirassiers preparing for attack. He spurred off to his brigade to prepare them for the coming storm, and in passing by the 69th, ordered colonel Morice to form square, as the enemy’s cavalry was at hand. The formation was nearly completed,[16] when the prince of Orange rode up, and, by a decided misconception, most indiscreetly directed them to reform line, which they were in the act of doing, when the rushing noise in the high corn announced the arrival of the enemy’s cuirassiers, who charged them in flank, rode right along them, regularly rolling them up. A cuirassier carried off the 69th’s colour, in defence of which cadet Clarke, afterwards lieutenant in the 42d, received twenty-three wounds, one of which deprived him of the use of an arm for life.

The duke of Wellington was nearly taken prisoner, and owed his escape to an order which he promptly gave to a part of the 92d, who were lining a ditch, to lie down whilst he galloped over them.

A little before seven o’clock, sir G. Cooke’s division, composed of the 1st brigade, under major-general Maitland, (the second and third battalions of the 1st foot-guards,) and of the 2d brigade, under sir J. Byng, (now lord Strafford,) composed of the 2d battalions of the Coldstream and the 3d foot-guards, came up, and soon drove the enemy back. Ney’s attacks were maintained with the greatest impetuosity during the first hours, but they became fewer and feebler as our reinforcements joined us, and towards the close of the day conducted with greater caution. Soon after sun-set, Ney fell back upon Frasnes, and the desperate struggle terminated. The duke of Wellington then advanced his victorious troops to the foot of the French position, when piquets for the night were thrown forward by both parties. Thus ended the action of Quatre-Bras, during which our troops were fully employed, and the Duke prevented from rendering his promised aid to the Prussians. It was only through the greatest personal exertions of our gallant chief and the most determined resistance on the part of his troops, that the enemy’s attacks were repulsed, and our communication with Blücher at Ligny by the Namur road kept open. The Emperor’s instructions to Ney to drive back the English, whom he supposed to be at that point in no great numbers, and afterwards to turn round and envelop the Prussian right flank, were completely frustrated. Our force in the field towards the close of the day was about 29,000 infantry, 2,000 cavalry, and sixty-eight guns; that of[17] the enemy, about 16,000 infantry, 5,000 cavalry, with fifty guns.

To the fortunate circumstance of the marching and countermarching of D’Erlon’s corps (Ney’s reserve) between Frasnes, Ligny and Quatre-Bras, without pulling a trigger, we may probably attribute our success on the 16th. An additional force of 25,000 men, either at Ligny or Quatre-Bras, might have gained Napoleon a decisive victory.

The action at Quatre-Bras possessed its own peculiar and important merits, which, with our masterly retreat to the Waterloo position, would have been sounded by the trumpet of fame, but for the glorious achievement that immediately followed on the field of Waterloo.

In no battle did the British infantry display more valour or more cool determined courage than at Quatre-Bras. Cavalry we had none that could stand the shock of the French; the Brunswick and Belgian cavalry, it is true, made an attempt, but were scattered like chaff before the wind by the veteran cuirassiers, who, to render them the more effective, had been mounted on horses taken from the gendarmes throughout France. The British cavalry had had a long march, some nearly forty miles, and consequently did not arrive until the battle was over. The gallant Picton, seeing the cavalry driven back, led on our infantry in squares into the centre of the enemy’s masses of cavalry; faced with squares the charging squadrons, and in line, the heavy columns of infantry. What may not be effected by such troops, led by such a general? The duke of Brunswick fell, while rallying one of his regiments that had given way. Colonel sir Robert Mac Ara of the 42d, and colonel Cameron of the 92d, were also killed.

During our struggle at Quatre-Bras, Napoleon had attacked the Prussians at Ligny, and between nine and ten o’clock in the evening, their centre was broken, and they began a retreat upon Wavre[15]. The horse of marshal Blücher,[18] a beautiful grey charger, presented to him by our Prince Regent in 1814, was shot under him, and, while lying on the ground, the field-marshal was twice charged over by the enemy’s cavalry. Sir Henry Hardinge, attached to the Prussian head-quarters, lost his left hand at Ligny; and about eight thousand Prussians deserted, and returned home.

The battle of Ligny may be considered as a series of village fights, and had the impetuous old hussar, the gallant Blücher, then seventy-three years of age, not drawn troops from his centre, to strengthen his right, and to enable him to attack the enemy’s left, he might probably have maintained his position; but immediately Napoleon perceived that Blücher had withdrawn his troops from his centre, he made a dash at it, forced it, and thus gained the victory. Notwithstanding the Prussians were defeated, they highly distinguished themselves by their audacity and valour. The battle of Ligny was a fierce and sanguinary contest, and little or no quarter given by either side. Both parties were excited by deadly animosity, and the helpless wounded became the victims. The Prussian loss was about fifteen thousand men and twenty-five guns, exclusive of the eight thousand men that disbanded themselves. The French loss was rather less.

[19]

Our bivac was quiet during the night, except that the arrival of cavalry and artillery caused an occasional movement.

About two o’clock in the morning, a cavalry patrol got between the piquets, and a rattling fire of musketry began, which brought some of our generals to the spot; Picton was the first that arrived, when it was found that no attempt to advance had been made, and all was soon quiet again. After which the stillness of the enemy quite surprised his Grace, and drew the remark, “They are possibly retreating.”

The Duke, who had slept at Genappe, was early at Quatre-Bras. Up to this time we had no satisfactory intelligence of the Prussians. His Grace consequently sent a patrol along the Namur road to gain intelligence; captain Grey’s troop of the 10th hussars was sent on this duty, accompanied by lieutenant-colonel[20] the Hon. sir Alexander Gordon, one of the Duke’s aides-de-camp. Shortly afterwards, captain Wood, of the 10th, who had been patrolling, informed the Duke that the Prussians had retreated. Gordon’s patrol discovered, on the right of the road, some of the enemy’s vedettes and a piquet; they fell back hurriedly before the patrol, who turned off the high-road to their left, about five miles from Quatre-Bras, and about an hour afterwards came up with the Prussian rear. After obtaining the required information, the patrol returned to head-quarters at Quatre-Bras, where they arrived about seven o’clock A.M., reporting that the Prussians were retreating upon Wavre[16].

The Duke immediately issued the following orders:

To General Lord Hill, G.C.B.

[21]

An officer from the Prussian head-quarters, bearing dispatches, written, no doubt, in secret characters, or the French would have immediately discovered the direction in which the Prussians retreated, had been waylaid and made prisoner in the night. But a second officer afterwards arrived at our head-quarters, and confirmed colonel Gordon’s statement that the Prussians had fallen back upon Wavre. The Duke immediately wrote to Blücher, informing him of his intention to retreat upon the position in front of Waterloo, and proposing to accept battle on the following day, provided the Prince would support him with two corps of his army.

The first hint to Picton of the Duke’s intention to retreat, was an order conveyed to him, to collect his wounded; when he growled out, “Very well, sir,” in a tone that showed his reluctance to quit the ground his troops had so bravely maintained the day before.

The Duke commenced the retrograde movement, masked as much as possible from the enemy, who followed us with a large force of cavalry, shouting, Vive l’Empereur!

The first part of the day (the 17th) was sultry, not a breath of air to be felt, and the sky covered with dark heavy clouds. Shortly after the guns came into play, it began to thunder, lighten, and rain in torrents. The ground very quickly became so soaked, that it was difficult for the cavalry to move, except on the paved road: this, in some measure, checked the advance of the French cavalry, who pressed us very much.

The regiment to which I belonged covered the retreat of the main columns. As we neared Genappe, our right squadron, under major Hodge, was skirmishing. By this time the ploughed fields were so completely saturated with rain, that the horses sunk up to the knees, and at times nearly up to the girths, which made this part of the service very severe. Our other two squadrons cleared the town of Genappe, and formed on the rising ground on the Brussels side. Shortly after, the right squadron retired through the town, and drew up on the high-road in column, when a few straggling French lancers, half tipsy, came up and dashed into the head of the column; some were cut down, and some made prisoners. The head of the French column now appeared debouching from the town,[22] and lord Uxbridge being present, he ordered the 7th hussars to charge.

The charge was gallantly led by the officers, and followed by the men, who cut aside the lances, and did all in their power to break the enemy: but our horses being jaded by skirmishing on heavy ground, and the enemy being chiefly lancers, backed by cuirassiers, they were rather awkward customers to deal with, particularly so, as it was an arm with which we were quite unacquainted. When our charge first commenced, their lances were erect, but upon our coming within two or three horses’ length of them, they lowered the points and waved the flags, which made some of our horses shy. Lord Uxbridge, seeing we could make no impression on them, ordered us about: we retired, pursued by the lancers and the cuirassiers intermixed. We rode away from them, reformed, and again attacked them, but with little more effect than at first. Upon this, lord Uxbridge brought forward the 1st life-guards, who made a splendid charge, and drove the cuirassiers and lancers pell-mell back into Genappe; the life-guards charging down hill, with their weight of men and horses, literally rode the enemy down, cutting and thrusting at them as they were falling. In this affair my old regiment had to experience the loss of major Hodge and lieutenant Myer, killed; captain Elphinstone[17], lieutenant Gordon and Peters, wounded; and forty-two men, with thirty-seven horses, killed and wounded. We were well nigh getting a bad name into the bargain.

Reports, as false as they were invidious, having been propagated by some secret enemy of the 7th hussars, it may not be uninteresting to the military world to be made acquainted with the opinion of their colonel, the marquis of Anglesey[18], as conveyed in the following letter:

The 23d light dragoons, supported by the life-guards,[24] covered our retreat, and we arrived at a position on which was exhibited as noble a display of valour and discipline, as is to be found either in our own military annals, or in those of any other nation. This position was in front of and about two miles and a half from Waterloo, where most of our army was then drawn up.

The French advance-guard halted on the heights near La Belle-Alliance, when Napoleon said, he wished he had the power of Joshua to stop the sun, that he might attack us that day.

They opened a cannonade upon our line, but principally upon our centre behind the farm of La Haye-Sainte: our guns soon answered them to their cost, and caused great havock amongst the enemy’s columns, as they arrived on the opposite heights between La Belle-Alliance and the orchard of La Haye-Sainte. It was now getting dusk, and orders were given to throw out piquets along the front and flanks of the army.

Our left squadron, under captain Verner, was thrown into the valley in front of the left wing; the rest of my regiment bivacked near where Picton fell the next day.

The spirit of mutual defiance was such, that in posting the piquets, there were many little cavalry affairs, which, although of no useful result to either side, were conducted with great bravery, and carried to such a pitch, that restraint was absolutely necessary. Captain Heyliger, of the 7th hussars, (part of our piquet,) with his troop, made a spirited charge upon the enemy’s cavalry, and when the Duke sent to check him, his Grace desired to be made acquainted with the name of the officer who had shown so much gallantry. A better or more gallant officer, than captain Heyliger, never drew a sword; but he was truly unfortunate: if there was a ball flying about, he was usually the target. I was three times engaged with the enemy, serving with the captain, and he was wounded on each of those occasions: the first time, foraging at Haspereen; next, at the battle of Orthez; and thirdly, at Waterloo. The ball he received on the last occasion was extracted at Bruges, in 1831.

Our bivac was dismal in the extreme; what with the thunder,[25] lightning and rain, it was as bad a night as I ever witnessed, a regular soaker: torrents burst forth from the well charged clouds upon our comfortless bivacs, and the uproar of the elements, during the night preceding Waterloo, seemed as the harbinger of the bloody contest. We cloaked, throwing a part over the saddle, holding by the stirrup leather, to steady us if sleepy: to lie down with water running in streams under us, was not desirable, and to lie amongst the horses not altogether safe. A comrade of mine, Robert Fisher, a tailor by trade, proposed that one of us should go in search of something to sit on. I moved off for that purpose, and obtained two bundles of bean-stalks from a place that I now know as Mont-St.-Jean farm. This put us, I may say, quite in clover. The poor tailor had his thread of life snapped short on the following day.

The duke of Wellington established his head-quarters opposite the church at Waterloo, (now the post-house and post-office;) while his Imperial antagonist, Napoleon, pitched his tent near the farm of Caillou, about five miles from Waterloo, on the left of the Genappe road, in the parish of Old-Genappe. The Imperial baggage was also at this farm.

Most of the houses in the villages adjacent Waterloo were occupied by our generals, their staff, and the superior officers. Their names and rank were chalked on the doors, and legible long after a soldier’s death had snatched many of them from the field of their prowess and glory.

In the course of the evening the Duke received a dispatch from Blücher, in answer to his letter sent from Quatre-Bras, requesting the support of two corps of the Prussian army. The officer bearing this dispatch was escorted from Smohain, to Waterloo, by a party of the 1st King’s German hussars. Blücher’s reply was:

“I shall not come with two corps only, but with my whole army, upon this condition, that should the French not attack us on the 18th, we shall attack them on the 19th.”

The Duke therefore accepted battle only under these circumstances; Napoleon’s lauded plan of operations enabling his Grace to ultimately place the author of those brilliant conceptions between two fires. Blücher appeared most anxious[26] to fight side by side with the allies and their chief, deeming an Anglo-Prussian army invincible; while Wellington, after having defeated most of Napoleon’s best marshals, was no doubt desirous of measuring swords with their mighty master himself, the hero of a hundred battles.

There is every reason to believe that the Duke was more apprehensive of being turned by Hal on his right, and of Brussels being consequently taken by a coup de main, than about any other part of his position. This fact is confirmed by the following orders, dated

The field of Waterloo is an open undulating plain; and, on the day of the battle, was covered with splendid crops of rye, wheat, barley, oats, beans, peas, potatoes, tares and clover; some of these were of great height. There were a few patches of ploughed ground. The field is intersected by two high-roads which branch off at Mont-St.-Jean; these are very wide: the one on the right, leading to Nivelles and Binche, since planted with trees, is straight as an arrow for miles; that on the left, lying in the centre of both armies, leading south to Genappe, Charleroi and Namur, is not so[27] straight as the former: about eleven hundred yards in advance of the junction, is a gently elevated ridge which formed a good natural military position.

Nearly a year before these events, the Duke had written to lord Bathurst, enclosing “a Memorandum on the defence of the Netherlands,” in which he says:

“About Nivelles, and between that and Binche, there are many advantageous positions; and the entrance of the forêt de Soigne, by the high-road which leads to Brussels from Binche, Charleroi and Namur, would, if worked upon, afford others[20].”

The great advantage was that the troops could rest in rear of the crest of the ridge, screened in a great measure from the enemy’s artillery and observation, whilst our guns were placed at points, from whence they could sweep (they are wonderful brooms) the slope that descends to the valley in front. Upon the crest is a cross-road running east and west, intersecting the Genappe road at right angles, about two hundred and fifty yards on this side of the farm of La Haye-Sainte. The cross-road marks the front of the allied position. Near where the Lion now stands, the cross-road or line runs curving forward a little for about six hundred yards, when it first gently and then abruptly falls back into the Nivelles road, near the termination of the ridge, where it takes a sweep to the rear.

This point was at first our right centre, but became our right when lord Hill’s troops were brought forward into the front line, between four and five o’clock P.M.

About four hundred and fifty yards south of this point, is the important post of Hougoumont, destined to become so celebrated in the annals of history, and which even now stands a noble monument of the determined valour of both the assailed and assailants.

It was then a gentleman’s seat, with farm, out-buildings, walled garden, orchard and wood. The latter has been since cleared, in consequence of the injury the trees sustained in[28] the battle. The buildings are more than two hundred years old, and were erected for defence. Many of the stone loop-holes made in the garden walls when first built, are still quite perfect, as are also those made by our troops on the spur of the moment. The hedges were all banked up, and with the ditches on the inner side formed excellent breastworks.

A ravine or hollow-way, called by colonel Hepburn “our friendly hollow-way,” runs along the northern boundary of the premises, which during the battle frequently served as a covered communication with the walled enclosures and buildings, as also for a rallying point and cover.

Hougoumont was formerly the property of Arrazola Deonate, who had been viceroy of Naples. In 1815 it was in the occupation of M. de Luneville, a descendant of the above family; it is now the property of count Robiano. This post is situated about midway between the positions of the two hostile armies. The château, farm, walls, etc., were at the time of the battle of a substantial nature. The garden, or park, was enclosed, on the east and south sides, by a wall, in which our troops made additional loop-holes; they also cut down a portion of the buttresses, on the inside of the south wall, for the purpose of erecting a scaffolding which would enable them to fire over the top of the wall, or to bayonet intruders. At the east wall, an embankment, and the scaffolds erected with some farming utensils, enabled the Coldstream to throw such a fire upon the enemy’s left flank when in the large orchard, that colonel Hepburn, who commanded there from about two o’clock, considered it (the east wall) as the strength of his position. Loop-holes were also made in the stables joining the south gate, and a scaffold was erected against the wall on the west, that ran from the south stables to the barn. The flooring over the south gateway was partly torn up, to enable our men to fire down upon the enemy, should they force the gate which had been blocked up, and was not opened during the action. The little chapel and crucifix still remain; but the numerous autographs of persons visiting the field since 1815, are all destroyed, the walls having been lately fresh plastered. The most interesting objects now at Hougoumont, for visitors to see, are the north gateway facing our position, by which[29] the enemy entered, its burnt beams, the small barn where many of the wounded were burnt, the cannon-ball hole in the east gable of the building attached to the present farm-house[21], the well perforated top part of the south gate, the battered front of the house, stables, and the loop-holed walls with the banked-up hedges, hollow-way, and some perforated trees in front of the walls. In the garden is a tomb, beneath which lie the remains of captain Blackman of the Coldstream, (brother to sir George Harnage,) who fell on that spot[22]. Hougoumont presents even at this moment a scene of shattered ruins, which cannot be viewed without exciting feelings of the deepest interest.

On the troops being thrown into Hougoumont on the 17th, all means were employed to strengthen it as much as possible, and there are still to be seen many of the intended loop-holes in an incomplete state, from which it may be inferred that the troops were called off to defend the post, whilst in the act of making them.

Hougoumont was first occupied on the afternoon of the 17th by the light companies of the 1st division of British guards: the light troops of the 1st regiment, under colonel lord Saltoun, held the orchard and wood; those of the Coldstream and 3d guards, under colonel Macdonell, held the buildings and garden. In the out-grounds and wood there were also a battalion of Nassau troops, a company of Hanoverian field riflemen, and a hundred men from the Luneburg battalion. The supernumerary light companies of the guards were thrown into the valley on our side of the enclosures, as a support, and to keep up a communication with the main line.

On the east side of the Genappe road, the cross-road was lined by two broken banked-up hedges, extending about half a mile; near the termination of which is a knoll, with a bit of copse or brushwood on the rear slope: this mound, or knoll,[30] overlooks the farms of Papelotte, La Haye, Frischermont, and the hamlet of Smohain in the valley.

The undulation in rear of the ridge afforded excellent protection to the second line, cavalry and reserves, which were quite concealed from the enemy’s view. Beyond the right of the main ridge, on the right of the Nivelles road, is a deep valley which runs round Hougoumont in the direction of Merbe-Braine, and from the valley cutting through the ridge to the little white chapel on the Nivelles road, runs a deep ravine, which is the one mentioned by the Duke in his dispatch, and intersects the second ridge or plateau, that was occupied by part of the 2d corps, under lieutenant-general lord Hill, who were to act as a right wing, en potence[23], or as a reserve, as circumstances might require.

The principal part of the troops occupying this plateau and valley, belonged to the 2d British division under lieutenant-general sir Henry Clinton: it was composed of the 3d light brigade, major-general F. Adam; the 52d, colonel sir John Colborne (now lord Seaton); the 71st, colonel T. Reynell; the 2d battalion 59th rifles[24], colonel Norcott, with two companies of the 3d battalion 95th, under lieutenant-colonel Ross, who were posted near Merbe-Braine.

The 1st brigade, King’s German legion, under colonel Duplat, was composed of the 1st, 2d, 3d, and 4th line battalions. The 3d, Hanoverian brigade, under colonel Hugh Halkett, consisted of the militia battalions, Osnabruck, Salzgitter, Bremeverden, and Quakenbruck.

The Brunswick corps, after their duke had fallen, were under colonel Olfermann, also near Merbe-Braine. Along the Hougoumont avenue and the road leading from it to Braine-l’Alleud, were some light troops, who, in conjunction with the hussars posted on their right, had in the morning, before the battle began, a sharp skirmish with the enemy. They were part of the fourth brigade of the 4th division, under colonel Mitchell, and attached to the 2d division, composed of the[31] 51st regiment, lieutenant-colonel Rice, the 15th regiment, lieutenant-colonel Tidy, and of the 32d fuzileers, colonel sir H. Ellis; the latter came into front line during the afternoon.

On the right of the former, was a squadron of the 15th hussars, under captain Wodehouse, who threw out vedettes and kept a look-out upon our extreme right. Upon the Nivelles road, opposite the Hougoumont avenue, was an abattis, or barricade. Near Mitchell’s brigade were posted, about two o’clock, two companies of the Coldstream guards, with their colours, in reserve.

Upon the ridge above and overlooking, Hougoumont was posted the 1st division of British guards, composed of the 2d battalion of the Coldstream guards, colonel Woodford, who was a little in advance; the 2d battalion of the 3d guards, colonel Hepburn, posted a little in rear of the crest of the ridge. The whole were in battalion columns, with deploying intervals, and in chequer.

On their left was the first brigade, composed of the 2d battalion of the 1st guards[25], colonel Askew, and posted in rear; and of the 3d battalion, colonel the Hon. W. Stuart, posted a little in advance of the crest.

On the left of Maitland, was the 3d division, under lieutenant-general count Alten; the 5th British brigade, composed of the 30th, colonel Hamilton, and the 73d, colonel G. Harris, posted in advance; and of the 33d, colonel Elphinstone, with the 69th, colonel Morice, posted upon the right rear of the 30th and 73d. The four regiments formed and acted as two.

On their left was the 1st Hanoverian brigade, under major-general count Kielmansegge. The field battalions of Bremen, Verden, York, Grubenhagen and Luneburg were posted three in front and two in second line.

On Kielmansegge’s left, was the 2d brigade of the King’s German legion, under colonel Ompteda, which formed Alten’s left and rested upon the Genappe high-road: it was composed[32] of the 1st light battalion, major Bussche, and the 2d, colonel Baring; of the 5th line, colonel Linsingen, and the 8th, colonel Schröder: the 1st and 5th were a little in rear of the cross-road upon the ridge; the 8th in reserve.

The 2d light, under colonel Baring, held La Haye-Sainte, a post far from being so commodious as Hougoumont, but considerably nearer our position, consequently easier of access, although more exposed to the enemy’s attacks and cannonade. It was a strong stone and brick building, with a narrow orchard in front, and a small garden in the rear, both of which were hedged round, except the east side of the garden, on which there was a strong wall running along the high-road side, then taking a western direction terminated upon the east end of the barn; a large and small gate opened on the road; a yard and barn door led to the orchard and fields which now face the Lion. At this point was the chief tug of war.

A passage led through the house from the farm-yard into the garden, which lies on the north or allied side of the buildings, the door of which was four feet wide; there were also on the same side four windows and ten loop or air-holes, by which any quantity of ammunition might have been thrown in; consequently, the oft-told tale that a breach should have been made on that side but was forgotten, falls to the ground, like many other false reports. A dozen loop-holes in the west or Lion side of the buildings would have added considerably to the strength of the post. Loop-holes were made in the south and east walls as well as in the roofs, and the post strengthened on being occupied by our troops.

A barricade was thrown across the high-road, near the south-east angle of the wall; but there were several drawbacks to the strengthening of this post. The working tools had been lost, the carpenters had been sent to assist at Hougoumont; half of the large west barn door was wanting, and in addition, the post was exposed to a line of batteries, that had been pushed forward upon the inner ridge of the French right wing, at a range of from six to eight hundred yards.

In rear of the interval between Halkett’s and Kielmansegge’s brigades stood the Nassau brigade, three battalions of the 1st regiment of Nassau, under general Kruse.

[33]

Upon the left of the Genappe road, in columns just under the crest of the ridge, was the 5th division: the 8th brigade, composed of the 28th, colonel sir P. Belson; the 32d, colonel Hicks; the 79th Highlanders, colonel Douglas, and of the 1st battalion 95th rifles, colonel Sir A. Barnard. In front of the right of the brigade, and about a hundred and forty yards from the cross-road, stood a knoll, in front of which was a sand-hole, (where the Hanoverian monument now stands;) on our side of the knoll and parallel with our front, was a hedge slightly studded with trees, about a hundred and forty yards long. The whole of this ground was occupied by three companies of riflemen, under major Leach, who made a barricade across the road: more of the rifles lined the straggling hedge along the cross-road; their reserve was at the junction of the roads.

On their left was the 9th brigade, consisting of the 1st or Royal Scots, colonel Campbell; the 42d Royal Highlanders, colonel sir R. Mac Ara; the 44th, colonel Hamerton; and the 92d Highlanders, colonel Cameron; their left near the brushwood, upon the rear face of the knoll on our left. From this to Wavre, which is concealed by woods and high ground, and from whence the Prussians had to march, the distance is about twelve miles: consequently the Duke had good reason for calculating on a much earlier support by Blücher.

In Pack’s left front was the 4th Hanoverian brigade, under colonel Best, composed of the militia battalions, Luneburg, Verden and Osterode; the Munden in reserve.

In Best’s left rear, and posted a little under the crest of the ridge, was the 5th Hanoverian brigade, 5th division, under colonel Vincke, in columns of battalions: namely, those of Hameln and Hildesheim, Peine and Gifhorn.

The hamlet of Smohain, with the farms of Papelotte and La Haye, and the houses and enclosures in the valley, were occupied by the second brigade of the 2d Dutch-Belgian division, under general Perponcher. This brigade, under the duke of Saxe-Weimar, was composed of the two battalions of Orange-Nassau, and the 2d and 3d battalions of the regiment of Nassau, the 1st battalion of which was at Hougoumont.

[34]

Upon our extreme left was the 6th cavalry brigade, under major-general sir Hussey Vivian, composed of the 10th hussars, colonel Quentin; the 18th hussars, colonel the Hon. H. Murray, and of the 1st hussars of the German legion, colonel de Wissel. A piquet of the 10th, under captain Taylor[26] was thrown into Smohain in the valley; their vedettes were posted on the rising ground beyond.

Before the battle began, a Prussian patrol arrived at this piquet, and informed captain Taylor, that part of Bulow’s (4th) corps was at St.-Lambert; this intelligence was immediately sent to the duke of Wellington.

On Vivian’s right was the 4th cavalry brigade, under major-general sir J. O. Vandeleur, composed of the 11th light dragoons, colonel Sleigh; the 12th, colonel the Hon. F. Ponsonby, and the 16th, colonel J. Hay. In advance of the hedge, in front of the centre of the left wing, was Byland’s brigade of the Netherlands, deployed in line, composed of the 27th Dutch light infantry, the 5th, 7th, and 8th Dutch militia, and the 7th of the Belgian line; the 5th Dutch was in reserve.

On the left of the Genappe road, in rear of Picton’s division, was the 2d cavalry brigade, under major-general sir William Ponsonby, composed of the 1st Royal dragoons, colonel Clifton; the 2d or Scots Greys, colonel Hamilton, and the 6th, Inniskilling, colonel Muter.

Near the farm of Mont-St.-Jean[27], was the 10th brigade of the 6th division, which was to have been under lieutenant-general the Hon. sir L. Cole, but he had not joined. Sir J. Lambert commanded this brigade, which was composed of the 4th, colonel Brook; the 27th, Inniskilling, major Hare, and the 40th, major Heyland; they had just landed from America, and had made forced marches from Assche. These were what the Duke termed Spanish, or old tried infantry, most of whom being on their way from America did not arrive until the[35] battle was fought. Sir Harry Smith (the hero of Aliwal) was on sir J. Lambert’s staff.

In the hollow, on the right of the high-road in rear of Ompteda, was the 1st or household brigade, under major-general lord Edward Somerset, viz. the 1st life-guards, colonel Ferrior; the 2d ditto, colonel the Hon. E. Lygon; the Royal horse-guards (Blues,) colonel R. Hill; 1st dragoon guards, colonel Fuller.

In rear of Alten’s centre were the 3d hussars of the King’s German legion, under colonel sir F. Arentschild. Behind the centre was the cavalry division of the Netherlands, under lieutenant-general baron Collaert: the 1st brigade, major-general Tripp, the 1st and 3d Dutch, and 2d Belgian carabineers. The second brigade, major-general de Ghigny, consisted of the 4th Dutch light dragoons, and the 8th Belgian hussars. The 3d brigade, major-general Merle, was composed of the 5th Belgian light dragoons and the 6th Dutch hussars.

On the right of the 3d German hussars were the Cumberland Hanoverian hussars, under colonel Hake.

In rear of Halkett’s right was the 3d cavalry brigade, under major-general sir William Dornberg, consisting of the 23d light dragoons, major Cutcliffe, and of the 1st and 2d light dragoons of the King’s German legion.

In rear of Byng was the 5th cavalry brigade, under major-general sir Colquhoun Grant, composed of the 7th hussars, colonel Kerrison, of the 15th hussars, colonel L. Dalrymple, and of the 13th light dragoons, lieutenant-colonel Boyse. The 13th did not properly belong to this brigade.

The 3d division of the Netherlands, lieutenant-general Chassé, (who so gallantly defended the citadel of Antwerp in 1832,) was under lord Hill: its 1st brigade, under colonel Ditmers, was composed of the 33d battalion of Belgian light infantry, and the 2d of the line, with the 4th, 6th, 17th, and 19th battalions of Dutch militia. It occupied the town of Braine-l’Alleud; the 17th was posted a little nearer to the 2d British division, to keep up the communication.

The 2d brigade, under major-general d’Aubremé, composed of the 36th Belgian light infantry, the 3d, the 12th,[36] and the 13th line, and the 10th militia, was at the farm of Vieux-Forêt, beyond Braine-l’Alleud, for the security of our right flank, and to keep open the communication with our detached forces at Hal, etc., for the protection of our extreme right. The 6th British brigade thus detached was composed of the 35th, 55th, 59th, and 91st regiments, under major-general Johnstone, with the 6th Hanoverian brigade, major-general sir James Lyon, and two regiments of Hanoverian cavalry, under colonel Erstorff, and a division of Netherlanders, under prince Frederick of Holland. These troops were thus posted for the protection of Brussels against a coup de main by any detached force of the enemy[28].

The reader will observe that the principal advantages of the allied position were.

1º The junction of the two high-roads immediately in rear of our centre, from which branched off the paved broad road to Brussels, our main line of operation, and the paved road to the capital by Braine-l’Alleud and Alsemberg. This added to the facility of communication, and enabled us to move ammunition, guns, troops, the wounded, etc., to or from any part of our main front line, as circumstances demanded.

2º The advanced posts of Hougoumont, La Haye-Sainte, Papelotte, and La Haye farms, near which no enemy could pass without being assailed in flank by musketry.

3º The continuous ridge from flank to flank towards which no hostile force could advance undiscovered, within range of our artillery upon the crest. Behind this ridge our troops could manœuvre, or lie concealed from the enemy’s view, while they were in great measure protected from the fire of the hostile batteries.

4º Our extreme left was strong by nature. The buildings, hollow-ways, enclosures, trees and brushwood, along the valley from Papelotte to Ohain, thickly peopled with light infantry, would have kept a strong force long at bay. Our batteries on the left on the knoll commanded the valley and the slopes. The ground from those batteries to Ohain, which was occupied till near eight o’clock P.M. by Vandeleur’s[37] and Vivian’s brigades, was admirably adapted for cavalry.

5º Our extreme right was secured by numerous patches of brushwood, trees and ravines, and further protected by hamlets, and by lord Hill’s troops en potence, part of which occupied Braine-l’Alleud and the farm of Vieux-Forêt, on the height above that town.

Between nine and ten o’clock, the French began to take up their position in our front, on an opposite ridge running nearly parallel to ours; their centre being near La Belle-Alliance, about fourteen hundred yards from ours; their right running east along the ridge towards Frischermont. At two hundred yards behind La Belle-Alliance is a cross-road, leading from Plancenoit to the Nivelles road, and intersecting the latter about midway between Hougoumont and Mon-Plaisir, at which point there are now two small houses built, and visible from the allied right wing. It was near this point that the French left terminated.

The French right wing was the 1st corps, under lieutenant-general count d’Erlon, the same, (with the exception of Durutte’s infantry and Jacquinot’s cavalry divisions, which were at Ligny,) that had been marching and countermarching between Gosselies, Ligny and Frasnes on the 16th, and which, up to this time, had not fired a shot during the campaign. It was composed of four divisions of infantry, and one of light cavalry. The 2d or left division, under general Donzelot, had its left upon La Belle-Alliance. It consisted of the 13th light, and 17th, 19th, 51st of the line, and was drawn up, like the whole of their front, in two lines about sixty yards apart. On their right was the 1st division, under general Alix: the 28th, 54th, 55th, and 105th of the line. On their right was the 3d division, under lieutenant-general Marcognet: the 21st, 25th, 45th, and 46th of the line. On their right was the 4th division, under general Darutte: the 8th, 29th, 85th, 95th of the line. The 1st division of cavalry, under general Jacquinot, was on the right of this corps: it consisted of the 3d and 7th light dragoons, and the 3d and 4th lancers, with seven batteries to the corps.

The left wing was the 2d corps, under lieutenant-general[38] count Reille, composed of three divisions of infantry and one of cavalry. The right division, the 5th, under lieutenant-general Bachelu, rested its right upon La Belle-Alliance, and its left in the valley that runs round the south enclosures of Hougoumont: it comprised the 12th, 61st, 72d, and 108th line. Girard’s division was during the 16th and 17th at Ligny, where it was left on the 18th, it is said, by mistake.

Upon their left, and facing the wood of Hougoumont, was the 9th division, under lieutenant-general Foy; viz. the 4th light, the 92d, 93d, and 100th line. On the left of the 9th division, upon the ridge facing the buildings of Hougoumont, was the 6th division, under general prince Jérôme Napoleon, comprising the 1st and 2d light, and 1st, 2d, and 3d line; the last three regiments were composed of three battalions each. On the left of the corps was the 2d cavalry division, under lieutenant-general Piré, being the 1st and 6th light dragoons, and the 5th and 6th lancers; they crossed the Nivelles road in lines, and threw forward piquets towards Braine-l’Alleud and Uphain; thus keeping a look-out upon the extreme left of their army. Their artillery, composed of five batteries, was ranged along the front of the divisions.

Behind their centre, close along their left of the Genappe road, was the 6th corps, under lieutenant-general count de Lobau (George Mouton). The 19th and 20th divisions only were present: they were formed in close columns of battalions, by divisions. The 19th division was about two hundred yards behind the right of the 2d corps; the 20th about two hundred yards in rear of the 19th division. The former was under lieutenant-general Simmer, being the 5th, 11th, 27th, and 84th of the line. The 20th division, under lieutenant-general Jeannin, was formed of the 5th light, and 10th, 47th, and 107th line. There were five batteries to this corps. The 21st, or Teste’s division, was with Grouchy.

Upon the right of the 6th corps, separated only by the road, was the 3d cavalry division, under lieutenant-general Domont, being the 4th, 9th, and 12th light dragoons; and the 5th cavalry division, under lieutenant-general Subervie, being the 1st and 2d lancers, and the 11th light dragoons. They were[39] in close columns. Their two troops of artillery were on their right.

Behind the centre of the right wing was the 4th cavalry corps, under lieutenant-general count Milhaut.

The 13th cavalry division, under lieutenant-general Wattier, comprised the 5th, 6th, 9th, and 10th cuirassiers; and the 14th division, under lieutenant-general Delort, consisted of the 1st, 4th, 7th, and 12th cuirassiers. Their two troops of artillery were in the centre.

In rear of those divisions, in reserve, was the light cavalry of the Imperial guard, composed of light dragoons and lancers, under generals Lefebvre-Desnouettes and Colbert, like the rest, drawn up in two lines; their artillery in the centre.

In rear of the centre of the left wing was the 3d cavalry corps, under lieutenant-general Kellermann. It comprised the 11th cavalry division, the 2d and 7th dragoons, and 8th and 11th cuirassiers, under lieutenant-general L’Héritier; and the 12th division, viz. the 1st and 2d carabineers (brass-clad cuirassiers,) and 2d and 3d cuirassiers, under lieutenant-general Roussel. Their two troops of artillery were upon their flanks.

In rear of those two divisions were the horse-grenadiers and dragoons of the Imperial guard, in reserve, under the generals Guyot and Hoffmeyer; their artillery was in their centre.

In rear of the 6th corps and the 3d and 5th cavalry divisions, near the farm of Rossomme, was the infantry of the Imperial guard, in reserve, under lieutenant-general Drouot: it consisted of four regiments of grenadiers, four regiments of chasseurs, two regiments of tirailleurs and two of voltigeurs, of two battalions each. The 1st and 2d regiments of grenadiers and chasseurs formed the old guard, under lieutenant-general Friant; the 3d and 4th regiments of grenadiers and chasseurs formed the middle guard, under lieutenant-general count Morand; and the four regiments of voltigeurs and tirailleurs formed the young guard, under lieutenant-general Duhesme. They were drawn up in six lines of four battalions each; the Genappe high-road divided them into two equal parts; their artillery (six batteries) was on their flank. The[40] reserve artillery of the guard (twenty-four guns) was in their rear.

Such was Napoleon’s disposition of his eager and gallant followers.

“This admirable order of battle,” observes a distinguished military writer, “at once grand, simple and imposing, and presenting to its skilful designer the most ample means of sustaining, by an immediate and efficient support, any attack from whatever point he might wish to direct it, and of possessing everywhere a respectable force at hand to oppose any attack made upon himself, from whatever quarter it might be made, was no less remarkable for the regularity and precision with which the several masses, constituting thirteen distinct columns, advanced to their destined stations, than for the unusual degree of warlike pomp and high martial bearing with which the lines drew up in this mighty battle array.” (Siborne, vol. I.)

Both positions, whatever some prejudiced French writers may assert, offered everywhere fair fighting ground, on which all arms could act without any disadvantage.

THE EVE OF WATERLOO.

Sunday the 18th June 1815, which cast such a brilliant lustre on the military annals of Britain, broke but slowly through the heavy clouds. The rain descended in torrents, succeeded, as the morning advanced, by a drizzling shower which gradually ceased. Soon after break of day, all who were able were on the move. Many, from cold and fatigue, could not stir for some time; fortunately, on most of us the excitement was too powerful to allow this physical inconvenience to be much felt; although, in after-years, many suffered most severely from it. Some were cleaning arms; others fetching wood, water, straw, etc., from Mont-St.-Jean, (my present place of abode;) some trying, from the embers of our bivac, to light up fires, most of which had been entirely put out by the heavy rain. At this time there was a continual irregular popping along the line, not unlike a skirmish, occasioned by those who were cleaning their fire-arms, discharging them, when practicable; which was more expeditious and satisfactory than drawing the charges. Our bivac had a most unsightly appearance: both officers and men looked blue with cold; our long beards, and wet and dirty clothing drying upon us, were anything but comfortable. As morning advanced and all were in motion, one might imagine the whole plain itself to be undergoing a movement. Imagine seventy thousand men huddled together. The buzzing resembled the distant roar of the sea against a rocky coast.

Between nine and ten o’clock, the duke of Wellington, with his usual firm countenance, passed along the line and was loudly cheered. His Grace was dressed in his ordinary field costume, white buckskin pantaloons, hessian boots and tassels, blue frock coat with a short cloak of the same colour, white cravat, sword, a plain low cocked hat without plume or ornament, except the large black cockade of Britain, and three smaller ones of Spain, Portugal and the Netherlands. In his right hand he carried a long field telescope, drawn out, ready for use. His Grace was mounted on his favourite chesnut[42] charger, Copenhagen. He was followed by a numerous staff, several foreign officers, and the Russian, Austrian, Prussian and Spanish ministers, count Pozzo di Borgo, baron Vincent, baron Müffling, and general Alava. I observed several in his train dressed in plain clothes. Their number was much diminished ere the day was over.

The Duke generally rode alone, or rather without having any one by his side, and rarely spoke, unless to send a message or to give orders; sometimes he would suddenly turn round and glide past his followers; halting occasionally, and apparently paying no attention to his own troops, his Grace would observe through his telescope those of the enemy, which the docile Copenhagen appeared perfectly to understand, from his showing no impatience nor getting restive.

The troops had been previously placed in their respective positions, and afterwards the cavalry dismounted.

About this time, the French bands struck up, so that we could distinctly hear them. I have no doubt, this was the moment when Napoleon assembled all his generals, and forming a circle, placed himself in the centre, and gave his orders. This was in the hamlet of La Maison-du-Roi, about a mile in the rear of his centre.

Not long after, the enemy’s skirmishers, backed by their supports, were thrown out; extending as they advanced, they spread over the whole space before them. Now and then, they saluted our ears with well-known music, the whistling of musket-balls.

Their columns, preceded by mounted officers to take up the alignments, soon began to appear; the bayonets flashing over dark masses at different points, accompanied by the rattling of drums and the clang of trumpets.

Could any one behold so imposing a spectacle without awe, or without extreme excitement? Could any one witness the commencement of the battle with indifference? Can any one forget the impressions that are made upon the mind at such a moment? What a magnificent sight! Napoleon the Great, marshalling the chosen troops of France, against those of Britain and her allies under the renowned Wellington! Here, on one side, were the troops that had held nearly all Europe[43] in bonds, and by whom kings and princes had been humbled and deposed; and although it was not the first time that many of us had faced them, yet, on the present occasion, they were under the immediate command of their idolized Napoleon. It was impossible to contemplate so formidable a power in battle array, without a feeling of admiration towards such noble antagonists.

It presented altogether a sight that must be seen and felt to be duly appreciated, a sight that “survivors recollect in after-years.”

Such a scene fires the blood of the brave, and excites feelings and hopes, compared with which, all other emotions are cold and powerless:

Picture their infantry in front, in two lines sixty yards apart, flanked by lancers with their fluttering flags. In rear of the centre of the infantry wings were the cuirassiers, also in two lines. In rear of the cuirassiers, on the right, the lancers and chasseurs of the Imperial guard, in their splendid but gaudy uniforms: the former clad in scarlet; the latter like hussars, in rifle-green fur-trimmed pelisse, gold lace, bear-skin cap. In rear of the cuirassiers on the left, the horse-grenadiers and dragoons of the Imperial guard, with their dazzling arms.

Immediately in rear of the centre was the reserve, composed of the 6th corps, in columns; on the left, and on the right of the Genappe road, were two divisions of light cavalry.

In rear of the whole, was the infantry of the Imperial guard in columns, a dense, dark mass, which, with the 6th corps and cavalry, were flanked by their numerous artillery. Nearly seventy-two thousand men, and two hundred and forty-six guns, ranged with matches lighted, gave an awful presage of the approaching conflict.

The enemy were quite in hand, all within call, there was nothing to prevent a movement being made. Why tarries Napoleon, so often termed “the thunderbolt of war?”[44] Every minute’s delay is loss to him, and gain to Wellington, whose game it was to stand fast until the Prussians arrived. Was the Emperor tampering with a portion of the allies who had formerly fought in his ranks, and who might again rally round his eagles, (as he had been led to believe,) should a favourable opportunity present itself? French writers reply, and with some justice, that Napoleon waited for the partial drying of the ground, which the night’s rain had rendered very unfavourable for cavalry and artillery. The grand martial display was calculated to heighten the enthusiasm of his legions, at the same time that it gratified the Emperor’s unbounded ambition.

The allied army, a motley group, of nearly sixty-eight thousand men and a hundred and fifty-six guns, though almost as numerous as that of the enemy, did not present so imposing a spectacle, being for the most part drawn up in chequered columns of battalions at deploying intervals, the cavalry being on the flanks and in the rear. According to the nature of the ground, the guns were skilfully ranged at points whence the melancholy work of destruction could be best effected; yet, from its undulating form, it concealed from the enemy’s view a great portion of our force.

“Never,” said Napoleon, “had his troops been animated with such spirit, nor taken up their ground with such precision. The earth seemed proud of being trodden by such combatants.... Never yet, I believe,” said he at St.-Helena, “has there been such devotion shown by soldiers, as mine have manifested to me; never has man been served more faithfully by his troops.”

The two armies were now fairly in presence of each other.

The French lines being completed, the Emperor passed along them, attended by a brilliant and numerous staff: a forest of plumes waved around him. The troops hailed him with repeated shouts of Vive l’Empereur! the infantry raising their caps upon their bayonets, and the cavalry their casques or helmets upon their swords and lances. The parade over, the whole instantly formed columns.

With an army thus animated by one sentiment, and doubtless calculating on being joined during the fray by more[45] than a few of the motley group who stood in his front, it may readily be conceived that Napoleon fully participated in the general confidence of a signal victory.

“The force of the two armies,” said the Emperor just before the battle began, “could not be estimated by a mere comparison of numbers; because the allied army was composed of troops more or less efficient: so that one Englishman might be counted for one Frenchman; but two Netherlander, Prussians, Germans, or soldiers of the Confederation, were required to make up one Frenchman.”

[46]
[47]

Just before the commencement of the battle, and after taking a minute survey of his troops on the position, the Duke rode down to Hougoumont, and following the footpath that traversed the wood, halted at the eastern boundary, from whence he surveyed the enemy’s masses in that vicinity. He afterwards returned to the buildings, and, casting a hasty glance around, made a few observations to colonel Macdonell, ordered a slight change to be made in the troops holding the wood and out-grounds, and then rode away.

[48]

At about half-past eleven o’clock, his Grace was near the bit of hedge-row on the road side, midway between the Lion and Hougoumont, in conversation with one of his staff, when a strong force of light troops of prince Jérôme’s division commenced an attack in the wood of Hougoumont upon our light troops, who, being under cover of the hedge and trees, kept them at bay for some time: the French however pressed on briskly into the wood, and drove our troops back towards the buildings. The rattle of the musketry was kept up in the wood for some time; and thus opened the memorable day of Waterloo.

Upon Jérôme’s supporting columns being put in motion, (about ten minutes to twelve, according to lord Edward Somerset and general Shaw Kennedy’s watches[29],) captain Cleeve’s German battery first opened upon them, and produced a most terrific effect, making a complete road through the mass[30]: the leading column was broken, and fell back behind the ridge; upon which our artillery more to the right opened upon the French rear columns which had slightly changed their position. Reille’s guns now opened, and a heavy cannonade was carried on. Napoleon ordered Kellermann to push forward his horse batteries: thus the fire augmented like thickening peals of thunder, and the whole kept up a continual roar;

Our Nassau and Hanoverian light troops being forced out of the wood by the French, the light companies of the British guards advanced on the right of the buildings, and also from the orchard into the fields, driving the enemy before them.

During the time the French occupied the wood, the Duke, after explaining the danger attending the howitzers’ range, as, from the proximity of the hostile forces, friends might be[49] destroyed as well as foes, ordered Bull’s howitzer battery to throw shells into it. A shower of shells was soon sent flying into the wood, which forced Jérôme’s light troops and their supports to retire. Up to this time, except a little skirmishing, the battle was confined to Hougoumont. The roar of artillery was increasing. At this period a body of the enemy’s cavalry approached our left at a good pace; upon which, Best’s Hanoverians formed square; but the French cavalry went about. It was a reconnoitering party, to see whether we had thrown up any field-works, as our position, when seen from the French right, had all the appearance of being intrenched. Fresh columns of Jérôme’s division, supported by Foy’s, were sent upon our post at Hougoumont; they united, extended their front, and pressed through the wood and open fields.

The horse battery upon the French left opened upon our right, and a sharp cannonade was kept up between the batteries. Our light troops in the wood and orchard made a desperate resistance, but were ultimately obliged to fall back upon the flanks of the buildings. As the French approached the banked-up hedge that masked the loop-holed wall, they pressed up to it, thinking our troops were behind it; but they were suddenly brought to a stand, by an efficacious fire through the loop-holes and from the scaffold over the top of the wall: most of their advance were brought down, and those who followed were staggered, without being able to make out whence the fire came that caused such havock in their ranks; little thinking that a masked battery of muskets was within forty yards of them. They at length perceived whence this well-directed fire came; still they returned with redoubled fury to the attack, in hopes of carrying this important post. Not thinking it prudent to attempt an escalade, they covered themselves, as best they could, by the banked-up hedge and trees, and continued a dropping fire upon the wall, which was so peppered as to lead one to suppose they had an idea of battering it down with musketry, or mistook the red bricks for our red coats. At length some of the more daring, and there were many in their ranks, rushed over the hedge up to the wall, and seized the muskets which protruded through the loop-holes.

[50]

The enemy were making their way through a gap, out of the wood, into the large orchard, when lord Saltoun charged them with his light troops and drove them back. Our howitzers upon the right of the main ridge began again plying with shells the enemy in the wood: they falling back, and our men moving on slowly, the shells were thrown in another direction, upon some supports. The enemy were again reinforced, and pressed on in a most daring manner.

Our guards on the right, under colonel Macdonell, fell back upon the haystack (afterwards burnt) that stood between the buildings and the wood, and upon the hedges and the right enclosures; while those on the left or orchard side, under colonel lord Saltoun, fell back to the south banked-up hedge of the orchard. Those on the right were assisted by their comrades from the windows of the house, as well as from the loop-holes of the south stables. They managed upon that point to keep the enemy at bay for some time, but perceiving some of Jérôme’s troops out-flanking them on the allied right of the buildings, and thus exposing our men to the danger of being turned on their right and cut off from retreat, they hastily fell back and entered the buildings by the north gate, which they attempted to block up: but the French were too close upon them, and forced an entrance. Our men quickly taking the best cover they could find, opened a rattling fire upon the intruders, then darted forward, and a struggle ensued, distinguished by the most undaunted courage on both sides. At length colonel Macdonell and his small force, amongst whom was sergeant Graham, succeeded in overpowering the enemy and closing the gate. All of the enemy who had entered were either killed or severely wounded. Shortly after a French soldier climbed to the top of the gateway, and sergeant Graham immediately shot him, by order of captain Windham, who at the time was holding Graham’s musket, whilst the latter was further securing the gate.

At this moment the position was nearer falling into the hands of the enemy, than at any other period during the day. A party of French drove back our light companies, and passed the avenue hedge which leads to the Nivelles road, turning the post on the allied right. Being favoured by the[51] brushwood and high crops, they got close up under the ridge on the right of our main front line, and destroyed some of our artillery-men and horses, causing Webber Smith’s battery to be drawn back into the hollow road, where his guns were refitted. Colonel Woodford, with the rest of the Coldstreams, went down and drove the French before him; but, before his arrival, such a numerous body of the enemy had congregated at the north gate and wall of Hougoumont, that our artillery opened fire upon them. Colonel Woodford’s advance caused it to cease, from the fear of destroying our own men. Woodford cleared all before him, and leaving a detachment to guard the avenue, he entered the building from the lane by a small door of the barn (now bricked up).

Sergeant Graham, some time after this, asked permission to fall out for a few minutes: a request which surprised colonel Macdonell, and induced him to inquire the motive. Graham replied, that his brother was lying in the buildings wounded, and, as the flames were then fast extending, he wished to remove him to a place of safety. The request was granted, and Graham, having rescued his brother from the fate which menaced him, speedily returned to his post. Graham died an inmate of the Royal hospital, Kilmainham, Dublin, in 1845.

The French on our left of Hougoumont, pressed on, and turned lord Saltoun’s troops on their left, driving them across the orchard to the friendly hollow-way; but upon the enemy following through the south hedge, all within musket range received, from the Coldstreams stationed inside the east garden wall, such a severe fire upon their left flank, as staggered and brought them up. Upon which lord Saltoun, who had been reinforced upon his left by some of the 3d guards from the main line, advanced, drove the enemy before him, and again occupied the front hedge; than which there was not a more secure position on the field, as long as the enemy did not outflank it: but this the French frequently attempted to do by attacking, from the open field beyond the east hedge of the enclosure, Saltoun’s left, posted at the south-east angle of the orchard.

The enemy now occupied the wood and open fields on both[52] flanks. Outside the left enclosures there was cavalry-skirmishing. About this time small bodies of cavalry, supposed to be Prussians, were observed on the heights on our left, near St.-Lambert.

In consequence of the determined resistance the enemy met with at our advanced post of Hougoumont, which proved a regular stumbling-block to Napoleon, he resolved upon attacking the left of our main line[31]. Marshal Ney had been making preparations for so doing, by pushing forward part of his artillery to the intermediate ridge of their right wing,[53] placing his guns so that their range was not beyond half a mile; they were to cover, as is usual, the advance of their columns of attack, formed of the whole of d’Erlon’s corps, supported by part of Reille’s.

Napoleon’s aim was to turn our left, force the left centre, get possession of the farms of La Haye-Sainte and Mont-St.-Jean, and establish a force there, in order to cut off our communication with Brussels, and to prevent our cooperation with the Prussians. The French columns had been moved to the hollow, between the main and inner ridges. All was ready for the grand attack, of which Ney apprized Napoleon; who, before he gave the order to begin, took a general survey upon his right, when, perceiving in the direction of St.-Lambert what he thought to be troops, he asked his adjutant-general (Soult[32],) what the cloud of troops were that he saw in the distance? Soult replied, “I think I see five or six thousand men: possibly part of Grouchy’s corps.” The telescopes were all put in requisition; but the day being hazy, the opinions were various and conflicting. Upon this, general Domont was sent for, and ordered to proceed with two light cavalry divisions in the direction of St.-Lambert, and ascertain what the supposed troops were. Domont and Subervie, it is said, immediately moved to the right, and drew up en potence on the right of the French army, and facing the wood of Paris. This must have occurred about one o’clock. Soon after, an officer of the light cavalry brought in a Prussian hussar taken prisoner, who had been charged with a letter for orders from Bulow to Wellington. The Prussian was very communicative, and answered all questions in a loud tone; he said, “his corps had been that morning at Wavre, near which the other three Prussian corps had encamped; that his regiment had sent out patrols for six miles in all directions, but had not fallen in with any part of the French army, consequently they had concluded that Grouchy had joined the Emperor at Plancenoit; and that the column seen near St.-Lambert was the advance-guard of Bulow’s (4th) corps, about 30,000 strong, that had not been present at the battle of Ligny.” This intelligence[54] obliged Napoleon to hold a considerable force in hand, in order to defend his right flank. It is therefore evident, that more caution and vigilance should have been used by him, at an earlier period, in that direction.

Soult, who was at this time writing a dispatch to Grouchy, informed him that the Emperor wished him to manœuvre in the direction of the main army; to find out the point where it was, to keep up a close communication, and to be at hand to fall upon and destroy any enemy that might attempt to disturb their right flank.

It was sent off with the intercepted letter, but did not reach Grouchy till after seven P.M. Domont soon after made the communication, that he had fallen in with the enemy in the direction of St.-Lambert; the Emperor might be assured that the troops he had seen were enemies, and that he had sent out patrols to find out Grouchy and to open a communication with him.

Napoleon remarked to Soult, “This morning we had ninety chances for us; the arrival of Bulow loses us thirty, but we have still sixty against forty. If Grouchy repair the horrible fault which he committed yesterday in amusing himself at Gembloux, and send his detachment with rapidity, the victory will be more decisive, because Bulow’s corps will be quite destroyed.” The Emperor still felt sanguine as to the successful result of the battle, notwithstanding he had received no intelligence from Grouchy, nor any information which he considered satisfactory respecting the Prussians. It was only by a gross oversight on the part of Napoleon, or some of his officers, that Bulow was allowed to approach his right. Had he detached six or eight thousand men of all arms on the 17th, or at an early hour on the 18th, to command the entrance to the defiles of the Lasne and St.-Lambert, through which Bulow[55] had to pass, and not above ten minutes’ gallop from the French right (consequently the force could have been recalled at any moment,) Napoleon could have kept Bulow’s corps, out of action until the arrival of Zieten’s (1st) corps, at about eight o’clock, and before that hour he might with his whole force have assailed Wellington’s position.

The appearance of the Prussians at St.-Lambert was ominous for Napoleon: it compelled him to alter his plan of battle, and tended to paralyze part of his reserves. The Prussians were now in great force between Grouchy’s corps and the French right. Grouchy might indeed fall upon the Prussian rear; but he might also be retarded at the passage of the Dyle, or by some other difficulty or misfortune. The prospect was sufficiently gloomy to make Napoleon detach some cavalry for the purpose of observing Bulow’s corps, and to keep a strong force in hand ready to check the Prussians, should they attempt to disturb his right.

The Emperor now sent word to Ney to commence the attack. D’Erlon’s four massive columns advanced, accompanied by Ney, who halted on the high-road where it cuts through the bank, before reaching La Haye-Sainte orchard. As soon as the columns reached the inner ridge, and were passing between their batteries, our guns opened upon them; they were scarcely down the slope so as to be under cover from their own guns, when their batteries of between seventy and eighty pieces, posted on their main and inner ridges, opened with a tremendous roar upon our lines, causing dreadful havock in Picton’s division and Byland’s brigade. The balls that went over fell with terrific effect amongst our cavalry in the rear. The flank columns which were detached to attack La Haye-Sainte, and Papelotte, La Haye and Smohain on our left, soon became engaged. The German rifles from the orchard of La Haye-Sainte opened first: then the Nassau on the left, with the light troops in advance of the columns, and soon the skirmish became general along the whole front of attack. Papelotte, la Haye and the orchard of La Haye-Sainte were carried.

As the columns approached the rise of our position, they appeared en échelons from their left. Byland’s brigade of the[56] Netherlands was overpowered and gave way before the overwhelming force which advanced against it, but was rallied again in rear of the ridge, where it remained for the rest of the day. Some of this brigade, particularly the 5th militia, had behaved with great gallantry on the 16th, at Quatre-Bras. The flanking fires from La Haye-Sainte and the enclosures of Smohain induced the enemy’s flank columns to swerve away towards the centre, before they dropped off their supports: so much so, that their central columns had not sufficient space to deploy. The left column got a strong fire from the walls of La Haye-Sainte, which it had scarcely cleared, when our sand-hole rifles began; this at first staggered the column, but still it pressed on with deafening shouts of Vive l’Empereur! and turned our sand-larks, who fell back behind the knoll, and from thence upon their battalion.

The enemy had dislodged the green Germans from the orchard of La Haye-Sainte, and were desperately disputing the buildings, a most serious impediment to the French, whose attacking columns were advancing towards the hedge. The French artillery now suspended their fire, for fear of destroying friends as well as foes: whilst our few but well-served batteries were carrying destruction through the enemy’s columns, who, regardless of the iron hail, gallantly pressed on until within forty yards of the hedge, when the undaunted Picton ordered Kempt’s brigade to deploy into line. This brigade moved up to the hedge, fired a volley into the enemy while deploying, which dreadfully shattered their ranks and stemmed their further progress; then with a loud Hurrah! rushed through the hedge and received a murderous volley in return. This caused some disorder and delay, particularly among the 79th regiment: but the delay was momentary; our soldiers quickly rallied, and levelling their bayonets, presented a line of British infantry at the charge. Picton’s gallant example at Quatre-Bras had so inspired his troops, that nothing could now resist the impetuosity of their attack.

By the terrific fire of our infantry, a timely check was given to the burning ardour of the assailing columns, which were soon turned into a shapeless mass of men, destitute of order, although still endeavouring to hold their ground; pouring[57] out a straggling fire, yet unable to withstand the storm about to burst upon their devoted heads. During this time a portion of the first light battalion of the German legion crossed the high-road to support our advancing brigade. The French left attacking column became panic-stricken, and, in utter confusion, fled precipitately down the slope. As the British pressed forward, their front was crossed by a body of cuirassiers hotly pursued by the 2d life-guards. The cuirassiers dashed in amongst their own broken infantry, who flung themselves on the ground to allow both cavalries to ride over them, they then rose up and fired after the life-guards. The cuirassiers coming nearer to their own position pulled up their steeds, and boldly faced their pursuers, but in vain; after many an isolated and individual combat, they were obliged again to turn and fly. It was here that Shaw, the famous life-guardsman, fell in the mêlée, mortally wounded by a carbine-ball, after having, it is said, killed nine of his steel-clad opponents.

During this same attack, a French officer, whose horse had been shot under him, seized the regimental colour of the 32d, which was carried at the moment by lieutenant Belcher: a struggle ensued; the Frenchman was in the act of drawing his sword, when he received a thrust in the breast from a sergeant’s halbert, and instantly after, notwithstanding the major (Toole) called out, (alas! too late,) “Save the brave fellow!” he was shot by a man named Lacey, and fell dead at lieutenant Belcher’s feet. This officer and lieutenant-colonel Brown, both of the 32d and actors in this scene, revisited the spot in 1845. They related all that took place on this part of our line during the day, and further told me, that in collecting their wounded on the morning after the battle, they found, near where the Hanoverian monument now stands, a most beautiful young lady who had been shot dead in the costume of an officer of the French hussars[33].

It was during this gallant and eminently successful repulse[58] of the enemy, that the brave Picton fell[34]: he was struck by a musket-ball in the right temple, and died immediately. His last words were, “Charge! charge! Hurrah!” His life had been spent in fighting the battles of his country: his end was suited to his stormy career; and although he had attained the meridian of military glory, no one of the many that fell that day was so lamented, as no one had been so admired and loved by the British army. His renown had attracted the notice of Napoleon, who on the morning of the battle inquired, “Where is Picton’s division?” His desire to know this might be attributed to his thinking, that, as they had been so roughly[59] handled and had lost so many men at Quatre-Bras, their morale was shaken and they might be easily overpowered.

It appears that Picton had been wounded on the 16th, at Quatre-Bras; but it was not discovered till his body was laid out on the 19th, at Brussels.

He was succeeded in the command of the division by sir James Kempt; colonel Belson, of the 28th, taking command of the brigade.

The 95th rifles were soon in the midst of the broken French infantry, over which the two cavalries had ridden; they took a vast number of prisoners and sent them to the rear. The rifles then reoccupied the knoll and sand-pit, and Baring’s gallant Germans the little garden and orchard of La Haye-Sainte, from whence the enemy had been driven.

Ponsonby’s brigade had advanced close up to the ridge, and was waiting the proper moment to charge; for the French columns on Kempt’s left, having had nothing in their front to check them after Byland retreated, were making through the hedges that lined the road. Part of the Royal dragoons dashed into the head of the enemy’s column in their front, and at the same moment a portion of the 28th regiment brought their right shoulders forward and fired a volley into its left flank. At this time, part of Pack’s brigade, formed of the redoubtable remains of the 92d Highlanders, was in rear of the ridge, their left brought forward, resting in front of the brushwood upon the knoll on our left. Part of another French column had passed the straggling hedge, and were pressing on towards the position of this brigade, bearing directly on its left. This handful of tried soldiers, partially aided by the Royal Scots and 42d Highlanders, immediately advanced in order to come to close quarters with the enemy, whose fire they received without returning, until within thirty yards; they then threw in a concentrated and destructive volley, which completely staggered the French, who however soon sufficiently recovered themselves to return the fire. At this moment, the Scots Greys came up, and the Highlanders opened out to let them pass. The wild shrill squeaking bagpipes, mixed with the shouting of “Scotland for ever!” heightened the national enthusiasm, and many of them, breaking[60] from their ranks, caught hold of the Grey’s stirrups to be able to keep up with them, and to take their part in completing the destruction of the enemy.

While we see in this fact ample proof of the ardour which fired the breasts of our brave Scottish troops, yet we must allow that the mingling of broken infantry with cavalry advancing to an attack, must have materially impeded the impetus and efficiency of both. The cavalry having the advantage of the descent, bore down all before them. Unfortunately this splendid result was not enough for the gallant spirits that achieved it. Wild with their success and carried away by the ardour of the fight, they hurried in utter confusion up the opposite slopes, sabring every living thing that came in their way. This was not the only instance of our cavalry getting disordered and out of hand by their own headlong rashness, and in consequence causing most serious loss of life.

The eagle and colour of the 45th regiment in the French column, attracted the particular attention of sergeant Ewart of the Greys; he gallantly rushed forward to secure the trophy. The following is his account of the affair: “It was in the charge I took the eagle from the enemy: he and I had a hard contest for it; he made a thrust at my groin, I parried it off and cut him down through the head. After this a lancer came at me; I threw the lance off by my right side, and cut him through the chin and upwards through the teeth. Next, a foot-soldier fired at me, and then charged me with his bayonet, which I also had the good luck to parry, and then I cut him down through the head; thus ended the contest. As I was about to follow my regiment, the general said, ‘My brave fellow, take that to the rear; you have done enough till you get quit[61] of it.’ I took the eagle to the ridge, and afterwards to Brussels[35].”

The Greys, with the Highlanders, took and destroyed nearly the whole of the front attacking column. Upon the right of the Greys were the Inniskilling dragoons, who dashed through the straggling hedge[36] down upon the supporting columns, and made fearful havock amongst them; and although they had not the good fortune to capture an eagle, their attack was as brilliant as that of the other regiments of the brigade. On the right of the brigade were the Royal dragoons, as before mentioned, who, like the Greys[37], met the head of the enemy’s column on our side of the Wavre road and hedge; the column threw out a straggling fire, and attempted to repass the hedge; but the Royals were soon among them, cutting and slashing away, and causing a panic, which, from the enemy’s situation, was not to be wondered at. In the centre of this column was the eagle of the 105th regiment; this caught the eye of captain Clarke, of the Royal dragoons. The following extract is from the records of the regiment, page 105: “I was,” he said, “in command of the centre squadron of the Royal dragoons in this charge; while following up the attack, I perceived a little to my left, in the midst of a body of infantry, an eagle and colour, which the bearer was making off with towards the rear. I immediately gave the order to my squadron, ‘Right shoulders forward!’ at the same time leading direct upon the eagle and calling out to the men with me to secure the colour; the instant I got within reach of the officer who carried the eagle, I ran my sword into his right side, and he[62] staggered and fell, but did not reach the ground on account of the pressure of his companions: as the officer was in the act of falling, I called out a second time to some men close behind me, ‘Secure the colour, it belongs to me.’ The standard coverer, corporal Styles[38], and several other men rushed up, and the eagle fell across my horse’s head against that of corporal Styles’s: as it was falling, I caught the fringe of the flag with my left hand, but could not at first pull up the eagle: at the second attempt however I succeeded. Being in the midst of French troops, I attempted to separate the eagle from the staff, to put it into the breast of my coatee, but it was too firmly fixed. Corporal Styles said, ‘Sir, don’t break it;’ to which I replied, ‘Very well; carry it off to the rear as fast as you can:’ he did so. Though wounded, I preferred remaining on the field in command of my squadron, which I did till near seven o’clock in the evening, when I was obliged to withdraw; having had two horses killed under me, and having received two wounds, which confined me to my quarters at Brussels for nearly two months.”

During this conflict, the valley and slopes of both positions presented a sight indeed! they were covered with broken troops of both armies: ours, both infantry and cavalry, bringing up prisoners singly and in groups. Some few of our fellows, until driven back by their officers, were helping themselves to any little valuable article they could lay hand on.

Many French officers were brought up prisoners; they delivered up their swords to our officers. The enemy upon the opposite heights were similarly employed in taking prisoners, and destroying such of our cavalry as had ventured too far, particularly the Scots Greys, who, by their ill-timed impetuosity, lost many men and horses. In fact most of Ponsonby’s brigade, with a portion of the household brigade, animated by their first success, pursued their advantage too far; they crossed the valley in disorder, and galloped up to the French position in two’s and three’s and groups, brandishing their swords in defiance, riding along the ridge, sabring the gunners,[63] and rendering about thirty guns useless: the bugles, or trumpets, sounding to rally, were unheeded.

General Ponsonby rode forward to stop their wild career, but he was intercepted in a ploughed field by the lancers, and killed. The command of the brigade devolved on colonel Muter, of the Inniskillings. The enemy’s cuirassiers, lancers and chasseurs, perceiving the isolated and unsupported position of our broken dragoons, rushed forward and made serious havock, pursuing them down the slope into the valley. Those of our men whose horses where blown and exhausted by their recent exertions, became an easy prey to the enemy; but at length the 12th and 16th light dragoons, part of Vandeleur’s brigade, came forward. The 12th, under colonel F. Ponsonby, charged some unsteady infantry in the valley, and then attacked the lancers, whom they overpowered, thus relieving our broken cavalry. In advancing, the 12th suffered most severely from the fire of some of Durutte’s division, who were concealed by a high bank in the valley, in front of our left.

The 16th light dragoons charged some of the enemy’s cavalry; part of Merle’s Dutch-Belgian cavalry came up as a support; a portion went down the slope. Vivian’s brigade moved from our extreme left towards the scene of action, but like Merle’s it was not required. Both sides were now employed in reforming upon their original positions, except our two light cavalry brigades, which took position somewhat more to their right. The skeleton remains of Ponsonby’s brigade, at a later period of the day, crossed the Charleroi road, and joined lord Edward Somerset’s. Meanwhile our rockets were playing with destructive effect upon the enemy, who were rallying opposite to our left.

After this sanguinary conflict, Napoleon rode along his right wing, and as usual he was loudly cheered. Sir Hussey Vivian, who at the time was in front of the knoll on our left, told me that he distinctly saw the Emperor: he was galloping towards some of his lancers that were reforming; upon the near approach of Napoleon they waved their lance-flags and shouted, Vive l’Empereur! Shortly before this, Vivian ordered two of major Gardner’s guns which were attached to his brigade, to[64] open fire. Upon this the French artillery opened, and a shot striking one of our ammunitions tumbrels, it blew up, which called forth a shout from the French gunners.

We may remark upon this attack[39], which the Duke pronounced the most serious that occurred during the day, that it was entirely defeated; that it gave us a great many prisoners, led to our disabling many of their guns, and that its failure frustrated Napoleon’s entire plan. Nor can any doubt be entertained, that if Wellington’s forces on this eventful day had been wholly composed of his Peninsular soldiers, of whom he had said, “I always thought, I could go anywhere and could do anything with that army!” we should not have looked so anxiously for the arrival of the Prussians, nor would they have been up in time to have taken any share in the victory.

Meanwhile the enemy’s attack upon La Haye-Sainte had been continued; they had, as related, dislodged the German riflemen from the orchard and garden, although a most determined resistance had been made by major Baring. During the advance of d’Erlon’s columns, the Duke observed the dreadful havock made by the enemy’s batteries in his front troops posted between the two high-roads, and ordered them to retire behind the crest of the ridge for shelter. This movement was mistaken by Napoleon for one of retreat, and he immediately launched forward Kellermann’s cuirassiers and carabineers to pick up our guns and stragglers, and press our rear. Shortly before this, his Grace advanced a reinforcement to La Haye-Sainte, having observed that the enemy was about to make another attack. Upon the arrival of this reinforcement, Baring tried to recover the orchard, as well as the little garden on our side of the farm, which had fallen into the hands of the French. The Germans were advancing, when they observed some cuirassiers moving forward. Lord Edward Somerset, whose brigade was now in line immediately in rear of this part of the position, had placed two officers on the ridge,[65] to give a signal of the enemy’s advance, in order to time his charge. Upon the cuirassiers approaching the line of skirmishers in front of our right of the farm, these latter ran in upon Baring’s troops, who were near the orchard, and threw them into confusion. They took to flight, but were overtaken, ridden down and sabred. While the cuirassiers were ascending the ridge, our artillery opened with grape and case-shot, which laid many low, and disordered their ranks: they however pressed forward most gallantly. Somerset’s line was now coming over the ridge, led by Uxbridge, and, at the moment our front squares fired into the cuirassiers, the two cavalries dashed into each other: the shock was terrific; the swords clashing upon the casques and cuirasses so that, as lord Edward Somerset humorously observed to me when he visited the field in June 1842, “You might have fancied that it was so many tinkers at work.” But it was of short duration. The British household cavalry soon cleared the ridge of the cuirassiers, although these made a most gallant resistance: they fled down the slope on both sides of La Haye-Sainte, closely followed by the brigade; those on the allied left of the farm, by the 2d life-guards. It was in following up this charge, that part of this brigade mixed with Ponsonby’s broken dragoons on the French position, and fell upon and sabred some of the enemy’s infantry who had been assaulting La Haye-Sainte. Part of the 1st life-guards pursued some cuirassiers, till both became wedged in between the two high banks of the Genappe road, beyond the orchard of La Haye-Sainte. Some of Reille’s troops, who had advanced in support of d’Erlon’s attack, fired down from these banks upon our life-guards, who had to get back to our line as well as they could. Most of the King’s dragoon guards had dashed over the road and were falling back to reform; but they lost many men and some officers, by the enemy’s fire from the little garden of La Haye-Sainte.

In leading this charge, lord Edward Somerset lost his cocked hat, and went to the charge bare-headed. On his return, whilst looking for his hat, a cannon-ball took off the flap of his coat and killed his horse. During the rest of the day he appeared in a life-guard’s helmet.

[66]

Lambert’s brigade was now brought forward to reinforce the remains of Kempt’s division.

Captain Siborne, in the following spirited manner, concludes his narrative of the attack and defeat of the enemy, upon our left and centre, between half-past one and three o’clock:

“Thus terminated one of the grandest scenes which distinguished the mighty drama, enacted on the ever-memorable plains of Waterloo: a scene presenting in bold relief genuine British valour, crowned with resplendent triumph; a scene which should be indelibly impressed upon the minds as well of living British warriors, as of their successors in ages yet unborn.

“Britons, before other scenes are disclosed to your view, take one retrospective glance at this glorious, this instructive spectacle. Let your imagination carry you to the rear of that celebrated position, and a little to the left of the Charleroi road. Behold, in the foreground on the right, a British line of cavalry advancing to the charge, exulting in the consciousness of its innate courage, indomitable spirit, and strength of arm. Whilst you are admiring the beautiful order and steadiness of their advance, your eyes are suddenly attracted by the glittering of a line of horsemen in burnished coats of mail, rising above the brow, and now crowning the summit of the ridge.

“They are the far-famed cuirassiers of France, led on by a Kellermann: gallant spirits, that have hitherto overcome the finest troops that could be brought against them, and have grown grey in glory. Trumpets sound the charge; in the next instant your ears catch the low thundering noises of their horses’ hoofs, and your breathless excitement is wound to the highest pitch as the adverse lines dash together with a shock, which at the moment you expect must end in their mutual annihilation. Observe the British, how they seem to doubt for a second in what manner to deal with their opponents.

“Now they urge their powerful steeds into the intervals between the necks of those of the cuirassiers. Swords brandished high in air gleam fitfully in rapid succession throughout the lines, here clashing together, there clanging against helmet and cuirass, which ring under their redoubled strokes.[67] See, the struggle is but a moment doubtful: the cuirassiers, seemingly encumbered by their coats of mail, are yielding to superior strength, dexterity and bravery combined; men and horses reel and stagger to the earth: gaps open out in their line; numbers are backing out, others are fairly turning round; their whole line now bends and breaks asunder into fragments: in the next moment they appear, as if by a miracle, to be swept from off the crest of the position, and being closely and hotly pursued by the victors, the whole rushing down the other side of the ridge, are snatched from your view. Your attention is now irresistibly drawn to that part of the foreground immediately facing you, where you have barely time to catch sight of a line of British infantry just as it forces its way through the hedge that runs along the crest of the ridge, to charge a column advancing up the other side.

“At the moment the shouts that proclaim its triumph reach your ear, you are struck by the majestic advance, close to your left, of another line of British horsemen. These halt just under the brow of the ridge. In their left front your eye now also embraces a line of British infantry moving quickly up the steep; whilst at the same time you see the heads of two hostile columns issuing through the hedge, and crowning the ridge amidst shouts of Vive l’Empereur! The one nearest to you, finding no immediate opposition to its farther advance, is rapidly establishing itself on the height; the other is met by the advancing line of infantry. A struggle ensues; the farther column is concealed from your view by the smoke by which it is suddenly enshrouded: but, at the very moment when doubts arise in your mind as to the result, the cavalry rushes forward, and passing through intervals opened out for it by the infantry, charges both those heads of columns, cutting them up, as it were, root and branch; and then bounding through the hedge, the whole disappears as if by magic.

“Now let your imagination, keeping pace with the intensity of feeling excited by such a scene, carry you up to the summit of the ridge. Behold, at once, the glorious spectacle spread out before you; the furious impetuosity of their onslaught overcomes all resistance: the terror-stricken masses,[68] paralyzed by this sudden apparition of cavalry amongst them, have neither time nor resolution to form squares, and limit their defence to a feeble, hasty, straggling fire from their ill-cemented edges: a flight, commencing from the rearmost rank, is rapidly augmented by the outward scattering, occasioned by the continually increasing pressure upon the front; the entire slope is soon covered with the dispersed elements of the previously attacking force: parties of infantry are hurrying over the brow of the ridge to aid others of the cavalry in securing their prisoners; three thousand of these are swept to the rear, and two eagles are gloriously captured. From the momentary contemplation of these trophies, your eyes instinctively revert to the course of the victors, whom you now perceive in the middle distance of the view; a broken line of daring horsemen rushing up the opposite height.

“Their intoxicating triumph admits of no restraint. They heed not the trumpet’s call to halt and rally; but, plunging wildly amidst the formidable line of batteries ranged along the French position, they commence sabring the gunners, stabbing the horses, and seem to clear the ground of every living being. But physical efforts, however powerfully developed and sustained, have their limit; exhausted nature yields at length, and their fiery steeds, subdued not by force but by exhaustion, retire with lagging, faltering pace. You look in vain for a support; there is none: but your eye is suddenly caught by the fluttering of lance-flags of a column of the enemy’s cavalry approaching from the left, and you become nervously alive to the danger that awaits the valiant band of heroes, who are only now made sensible of the necessity of retiring to collect and rally their scattered numbers. Seeing no support ready to receive them, and becoming aware of the near approach of hostile cavalry, they make a last and desperate effort. Those who are best mounted, and whose horses are least blown, succeed in regaining the allied position unmolested; but a very considerable number are overtaken by the lancers, with whom they now contend under a fearful disadvantage in point of speed and order.

“But mark! a rescue is at hand: a gallant line of friendly cavalry throws itself against the right flank of the lancers,[69] the farther portion or left of that line first dashing through and scattering an unsteady mass of infantry, the sole remaining column out of the entire attacking force that has yet kept together. The tide of destruction now sets in strongly against the lancers: their pursuit is checked; the heavy dragoons are relieved from the pressure. A mêlée ensues, but you are not kept long in suspense; for in another moment this newly arrived force, making good its way, succeeds in driving the lancers in confusion down to the foot of the valley. The arena in your front is speedily cleared of both friends and foes; the discharge of rockets which now attracts your attention appears like a display of fireworks in celebration of the glorious triumph. The affair has terminated.

“But stay to witness the concluding part of the scene. Observe the splendidly attired group entering upon the right, just above La Haye-Sainte.

“It is headed by one whom you cannot for a moment mistake, the illustrious Wellington. Lord Uxbridge, returning from his brilliant charge, now joins the Duke, while the whole Corps diplomatique et militaire express in the strongest terms their admiration of the grand military spectacle of which they have been spectators. Among them are representatives of nearly all the continental nations; so that this glorious triumph of your valiant countrymen may be said to have been achieved in the face of congregated Europe. Honour, imperishable honour, to every British soldier engaged in that never-to-be-forgotten fight.

“When Britain again puts forth her strength in battle, may her sovereign’s guards inherit the same heroic spirit which animated those of George, Prince Regent, and inspire them with the desire to maintain, in all their pristine purity and freshness, the laurels transmitted to them from the field of Waterloo; and when the soldiers of the three united kingdoms shall again be found fighting side by side against the common enemy, may they prove to the world that they have not degenerated from the men of the ‘Union brigade,’ who, by their heroic deeds on that great day, so faithfully represented the military virtues of the British empire.”

Several instances of extraordinary heroism were displayed[70] by lord Uxbridge[40], especially when, between one and two o’clock, he was leading on to the charge the admiring men of the two heavy cavalry brigades. It was perhaps not less prudent than gallant to kindle a daring spirit in our cavalry, and rouse them to the highest pitch of emulation by the dashing valour of their chief. There was not a man amongst us who did not feel certain that Uxbridge would have led the charge, even if the whole French army had been moving in mass against him; yet it is well known that there was one looking on, who did[71] not wear a black stock nor carry a musket[41], that would have been better pleased if our chivalric leader had been a little more cautious to support, and more successful in keeping the cavalry well in hand.

[72]
[73]

Skirmishing continued along our whole front: the entire space between La Haye-Sainte and Hougoumont was up to this time defended by Alten’s skirmishers, commanded by colonel Vigouroux, (30th regiment). The light companies of the guards were, as already stated, fully engaged at Hougoumont, to which post, about two o’clock, sir J. Byng ordered colonel Hepburn to advance, with the remaining companies of the 3d guards. When they reached the first hedge of the orchard, in the hollow-way, they met with lord Saltoun, who, in consequence of the severe loss of his light troops, gave up the command to colonel Hepburn, and returned to his own regiment, (the 1st guards,) posted on the main ridge.

General Cooke having lost an arm by a round-shot, the command of the division devolved on general Byng, and the latter’s brigade on colonel Hepburn, who soon after crossed the orchard, driving the French before him, and occupied the south hedge; this he considered his position. The French[74] went through a gap at the south-west corner of the orchard, into the wood, and, being huddled together, suffered severely from the concentrated fire of their pursuers, as well as from that of the Coldstream upon the scaffolds and through the loop-holes of the wall. I have been told by a British staff officer, who passed along the south hedges on the morning of the 19th, that, notwithstanding he had been at most of the battles in the Peninsula, he had never seen, except at a breach, dead and wounded men lie thicker than along those hedges.

About this time, the 7th hussars were in line, and near the right of the main ridge. Our officers and men were falling fast from the fire of musketry; at length it was discovered that a dropping fire came from a spot covered with standing rye. Sergeant Montague and a few hussars galloped to the place, and surprised a group of the enemy’s skirmishers, all of whom they cut down.

A strong line of the enemy’s cavalry passed Hougoumont on their left, and ascended our position, apparently regardless of the fire of our artillery, although it somewhat disordered their ranks. The 7th, with a portion of the 15th hussars, was led against them. After a few cuts and points, the enemy went about, and rallied behind another well-formed body of their cavalry; we rallied in rear of our position. About the same time colonel Hepburn’s troops were warmly attacked, out-flanked, and again obliged to retire to their friendly hollow-way; but when the enemy passed the south hedge and entered the large orchard, all within musket range got again such a severe fire from the Coldstream at the east wall that they were staggered; Hepburn again advanced, and recovered his position.

About the time the 2d brigade of guards advanced to Hougoumont, the Brunswickers came into line on the right. A column of French infantry was now seen advancing towards Alten’s and the left of Cooke’s divisions. Our skirmishers were pushed forward to feel them; upon which they changed their direction towards the Hougoumont enclosures through a winding valley, and got as it were under our position, so that they could not be seen. The officer of artillery, who fired the first shot, was posted near where the Lion now stands; judging[75] the course they were taking, he allowed them to proceed to a point where he could best exercise his engines of destruction, and opened upon the mass with fearful precision and awful effect. The whole column was thrown into confusion, and moved to some lower ground for protection; there it was reformed, and again put in motion towards the enclosures of Hougoumont; the guns opened once more upon them with similar results, which probably prevented a serious flank attack on this post.

Napoleon, finding his repeated attacks upon Hougoumont quite unavailing, ordered general Haxo to establish a battery of howitzers to set it on fire. The shells fell into the buildings, and flames shortly burst forth: at about three o’clock, the whole of the château and a portion of the out-offices were on fire. From the right of the allied position the appearance was awfully grand. It is surprising that the enemy, with so large a force of artillery, chiefly twelve-pounders, did not level Hougoumont with the ground. With his left batteries near the Nivelles road, from whence it was completely commanded, he might have soon beaten it about the ears of its defenders; he preferred however burning them out with shells.

The Duke considered it of great importance to withhold this position from the enemy, and directed that it should not be abandoned, whilst there was a man left to defend it, although it was in flames. He deemed the maintaining of the post essential to the success of the day’s operations. Many of the wounded who were in the buildings perished in the flames; those in the chapel escaped, as the flames did not extend far beyond the entrance; and it is a remarkable fact, that they ceased at the feet of the wooden image of our Saviour.

The Duke’s orders were carried down to Hougoumont by[76] major Hamilton, aide-de-camp to general Barnes, the adjutant-general of the forces, and given to colonel Home, commanding some of the 3d guards on the allied right of the building, near the wood. After delivering the order, major Hamilton went away, but shortly returned and asked colonel Home, if he perfectly understood his Grace’s instructions: “I do,” replied the colonel, “and you can tell the Duke from me, that, unless we are attacked more vigorously than we have hitherto been, we shall maintain the post without difficulty.” Shortly afterwards colonel Home entered the buildings, the greater part of which, together with some stacks, were in a blaze; he found the colonels Macdonell and Woodford in the walled garden, and gave them the Duke’s orders. Colonel Woodford, at this time, commanded in the interior of Hougoumont, and colonel Hepburn in the orchard. To have allowed the enemy to establish himself in such a post, so near our front and flank, might certainly have been followed by the most serious consequences. But why our gallant assailants wasted so much ammunition against brick and stone walls, that might elsewhere have been used with effect against their enemy, is not easily answered. A post of the description of Hougoumont never before sustained such a succession of desperate attacks: the battle began with the struggle for its possession, which struggle only terminated on the utter defeat and rout of the enemy.

The attack upon La Haye-Sainte[42] was repeated, notwithstanding the punishment the enemy had received at the hands of the German rifles. The French again pressed on to closer combat with determined bravery. The principal attacks were directed to the west barn and yard doors leading into the open fields towards the Lion.

About four o’clock, the 13th light dragoons and 15th hussars[77] (part of the brigade in which I served,) were sent off in haste, under general Grant[43], towards Braine-l’Alleud, to watch the movement of a portion of the enemy’s lancers moving in that direction. The 2d German dragoons also were ordered on the same service, to act as a support, if needful.

The fire of the enemy’s artillery had been continued with great vigour; it was now increased upon that part of our position which was between the two high-roads. Our squares, which were lying down behind the crest of the ridge and could not be seen by the enemy, were, in a great degree, protected from the round and grape-shot, but not from the shells, which were bestowed upon them most liberally. They sometimes fell amongst us with great effect. Those missiles may be both seen and heard as they approach; so that by keeping a look-out many lives were saved; the ground too was so saturated with rain that the shells in some instances sunk beneath the surface, and bursting threw up mud and sand, which were comparatively harmless. The oldest soldier however had never witnessed so furious a cannonade. The Duke, writing to lord Beresford, says, “I never saw such a pounding match.” The havock was dreadful in the extreme, for some considerable time before the impetuous Ney came on with his grand cavalry attack, made by forty squadrons. On their right, close to La Haye-Sainte, were the cuirassiers; then the lancers and chasseurs à cheval of the Imperial guard. They advanced in lines, en échelons, their left reaching nearly to the east hedge of Hougoumont.

As those on the right neared the ridge, their artillery discontinued firing; and ours opened with grape, canister and Shrapnel shells, which rattled like hail on the steel-clad warriors; but they still pressed on, regardless of our fire, towards the guns, the horses of which had been sent to the rear. Every discharge (the load was usually double,) dreadfully shattered their ranks, and threw them into great disorder; but excited by the trumpets sounding the charge, they rode up to the cannons’ mouths, shouting, Vive l’Empereur!

Our gunners fled to the squares, which were all ranged in[78] chequer; the front ones had advanced again nearly close to the guns. The French, not perceiving the advantage which the squares afforded the gunners, and imagining that they had captured the guns, shouted out in triumph, and then crossed over the ridge; here they were assailed by a rolling fire from our squares, which were all prepared, the front rank on the right knee, the next rank at the charge.

When the cuirassiers had passed over the ridge, they were out of sight of the lancers and chasseurs, who immediately pressed on to share in the contest. Our artillery received them in a similar manner; some of the men rushing back to their guns, and after discharging them at the foe, taking shelter again within the squares, or under the guns. The firing produced a much greater effect upon such of the enemy’s cavalry as were not protected by the cuirass and casque; consequently their ranks were much more disordered than were the cuirassiers’; still they pursued their onward course, passed the guns, raised a shout and swept round the squares. Some halted and fired their pistols at the officers in the squares; others would ride close up, and either cut at the bayonet or try to lance the outside files. No sooner had the broken squadrons passed the guns, than the gunners were again at their post, and the grape rattled upon the retiring hosts; but frequently, before a succeeding round could be discharged, the hostile cavalry were again upon them, and compelled them to seek shelter.

During the cavalry attacks, those of the enemy were at one time on the allied position, riding about amongst our squares for three quarters of an hour; all cannonading having ceased between the two high-roads.

When the enemy’s squadrons became broken and disordered, our cavalry, who were kept in hand till the favourable moment, again attacked them and drove them down the slope, often following too far, by which they burned their fingers, and likewise prevented our gunners from keeping up a constant fire.

Our position was scarcely free from the enemy’s cavalry, before their numerous artillery began to ply us again with shells and round-shot. After the first cavalry charges, our infantry squares, finding the odds in their favour, gained[79] confidence, and it was soon evident they considered the enemy’s cavalry attacks as a relief, and far more agreeable than their furious cannonade, which was invariably suspended on their attacking force crowning our ridge. I am confident from what I saw and heard, as well during as after the battle, that our British infantry would rather, when in squares, have the enemy’s cavalry amongst them than remain exposed to the fire of artillery. The 1st foot-guards had the enemy’s cavalry on every side of their squares several times, and beat them off. Our squares often wheeled up into line, to make their fire more destructive on the French cavalry when retiring: on this, the cuirassiers would suddenly wheel round to charge; but our infantry were instantly in square, and literally indulged in laughter at the disappointment and discomfiture of their gallant opponents. Throughout the day our squares presented a serried line of bristling bayonets, through which our enemy’s cavalry could not break. Had the French made their attacks throughout with infantry and cavalry combined, the result must have been much more destructive; for, although squares are the best possible formation against cavalry, there can be nothing worse to oppose infantry. I am not aware of any parallel to the extraordinary scene of warfare which was now going forward: most of our infantry were in squares, and the enemy’s cavalry of every description riding about amongst them as if they had been our own; for which, but for their armour and uniforms, they might have been mistaken.

An ammunition waggon in a blaze passed about this time in full gallop close to our rear, and one of our men, I think Fowler, afterwards the sergeant saddler, drew his pistol and fired at the horses, but without taking effect: the waggon shortly after blew up.

The skirmishing at the farms of La Haye and Papelotte, which were retaken, and in the hamlet of Smohain, went on with unabated fury: the attacks upon La Haye-Sainte and Hougoumont were continued. The artillery on both sides was now pealing forth its thunders: the earth trembled with the repeated concussions. Ney and his Imperial master, no doubt, expected to bear down all before them by the aid of the thirty-seven additional squadrons they were about to[80] bring forward; whilst we could only command in addition two regiments, the 13th light dragoons and the 15th hussars, under Grant, who, on discovering that the ruse of the enemy was to draw off a part of our cavalry from the right of our main front line, had now returned and driven some of the enemy’s cavalry down the slope. He was however obliged to retire immediately, as their cavalry was collected in great force in the valley, as also in the hollows near La Haye-Sainte. Being there exposed to the fire of our batteries, the French horsemen would at times call out aloud, “En avant, en avant! (Forward, forward!) here we are knocked to pieces;” upon which their chiefs would again advance and assail our position. About this period our attention was drawn to the firing of a battery in our rear; we all, to a man, looked round, as if by word of command: but found it to be our own guns, which, from the second ridge across the Nivelles road, were firing upon some lancers that were attacking our Brunswick squares upon the rear face of our right wing. They were twice driven off by Bolton’s battery.

The allied position was again cleared of the enemy, and skirmishers were thrown forward along the valley; some were sent to cover the front from the Hougoumont orchard as far as La Haye-Sainte. At this point the attack had been carried on with great vigour: colonel Baring had made another application for rifle ammunition, which, from some cause or other, was not supplied.

Ney’s cavalry attacks were now renewed, his force being nearly doubled by the addition of a part of general Guyot’s heavy cavalry of the guard, and Kellermann’s cuirassiers.

With this additional force, Ney had a stupendous body of cavalry in comparison with ours. The attack, like the previous ones, was covered by a tremendous fire of artillery, which played on every part of our right wing; the round-shot ploughing up the ground, or tearing open the files of the close and serried ranks; shells exploding in all directions; and at every moment the flashes of the guns, amidst expanding volumes of dense smoke, challenging the attention of every man to the sources of destruction, the well-worked batteries on both sides. Nothing could be more imposing than the[81] advance of Ney’s cavalry, (flanked by infantry to assail our advanced posts,) as they swept up the slope of the allied position under a murderous fire of our double-shotted guns, of which they again succeeded in getting temporary possession. Our devoted squares at times seemed lost amidst the hostile squadrons, who, in vain, made repeated endeavours to penetrate these impregnable barriers; as before, their squadrons got mixed, broken, and their ardour sobered down, when a retrograde movement was commenced, which soon became general.

The allied cavalry, who had been kept in hand to act at the favourable moment, now darted forward and completed the disorganization of the French cavalry. Our undaunted artillery-men, ever on the alert, were to be found at their guns, plying the retiring hostile cavalry with grape, canister, or case-shot.

But the enemy’s cavalry, which frequently reformed in the valley just under our position, where their lances and the tops of their caps might be seen, were soon again on the position and amongst the squares. Some of the most daring would ride up to the squares and cut aside the bayonets. Such parties seldom escaped unhurt: the man, or horse, was almost sure to be brought down; but not near so many saddles were emptied as might have been expected.

During the attacks made by the French cavalry, not a single individual set an example of soldier-like devotedness by rushing upon the bristling bayonets: certainly no agreeable task, nor to be attempted without imminent danger; but one, when required and gallantly done, that raises men to military rank and renown, and that may hasten the crisis and lead to victory. Of the fifteen thousand French horsemen, it is doubtful whether any perished on a British bayonet, or that any of our infantry in square fell by the French cavalry’s sabres; few, comparatively, of the enemy’s cavalry were destroyed, even by our musketry[44].

[82]

Many pretend that good infantry in square can resist the onset of cavalry, however skilful, bold and determined: my opinion is the reverse; much depends on circumstances.

The menacing approach of the French cavalry, who rode amongst and round our squares, was not quietly witnessed by our own horsemen: we made many spirited charges between the allied squares, as well as on every side of them. All the British, German, and Tripp’s Dutch-Belgian cavalry, that were between the two high-roads, were more or less engaged during these attacks.

At times it was quite amusing to see some of the foreign troops cut away from the angles of their squares, and our staff officers galloping after them to intercept their flight. It was surprising to see how readily they returned to their squares.

The fire of volleys from our squares did no great damage; the independent file-firing was the most destructive to the enemy’s cavalry, to such particularly as were not clad in steel or brass. The killed and wounded men and horses, the broken guns, etc., afforded excellent cover to the skirmishers, whilst they impeded the movements of the horsemen, and augmented their disorder and confusion.

It is not difficult to conceive from the foregoing circumstances, what was the rage, the ungovernable fury that animated those attacks; and how, after unceasing combats for above two hours, in a limited space, no result was obtained by the French but a most horrible and bloody-carnage. It was one of the greatest of their errors, on that eventful day, to get their cavalry into a labyrinth from which there was no extricating it before the pride of their fifteen thousand horsemen had been completely broken. It was now evident, from the enemy’s attacks becoming less animated and frequent, that they began to see the utter folly of their attempts against our invincible infantry. It is, in my opinion, very doubtful, whether the enemy’s cavalry ever came into actual collision with our squares[45].

[83]

It has been said by Napoleon, and it is also the remark of most the French writers, that Guyot went into action without orders. Napoleon dispatched general Bertrand to stop the heavy cavalry of the guard; but they were so engaged that a retrograde movement would have then been dangerous. “This,” Napoleon observed, “had deprived him of a cavalry reserve at about five o’clock, because they went two hours sooner than they should have gone into action, and that the same troops well employed had many times gained him a victory.”

I cannot reconcile myself to the idea that a division of cavalry would go into action without orders; it is much more probable that there was some mistake in the transmission of them: but why was not the advance countermanded? Most of their cavalry movements were so slow towards the end of the day, in consequence of the jaded condition of their horses, and the saturated and encumbered state of the ground, that an order sent on foot might have soon brought them back.

At one time during that memorable afternoon, the ridge and rear slope of our position were literally covered with every description of horsemen, lancers, cuirassiers, carabineers, horse-grenadiers, light and heavy dragoons and hussars; during which our guns stood in position, abandoned by the artillery-men, who took refuge in and around the squares: when at length the enemy’s gallant but fruitless efforts became exhausted, our cavalry appeared and cleared the allied position. On one occasion a body of cuirassiers passed along the Nivelles road, closely followed by a party of my regiment, under captain Verner. Upon the high bank on the right of the Nivelles road, a party of the 51st regiment, under lieutenant Kennedy, was firing upon the enemy, and our advanced files narrowly escaped being shot. As the cuirassiers neared the avenue between the Nivelles road and Hougoumont, they came upon an abattis, or barricade, near which was a party of the 51st, under captain Ross, who fired upon them; about a hundred and fifty were killed, wounded or taken prisoners.

[84]

Ney’s grand cavalry attack has called forth the following lively description from the pen of captain Siborne:

“When the tremendous cavalry force, which Ney had now assembled, moved forward to the attack, the whole space between La Haye-Sainte and Hougoumont appeared one moving, glittering mass; and as it approached the Anglo-allied position, undulating with the conformation of the ground, it resembled a sea in agitation. Upon reaching the crest of the ridge, and regaining temporary possession of the batteries, its very shouts sounded on the distant ear, like the ominous roar of breakers thundering on the shore. Like waves following in quick succession, the whole mass now appeared to roll over the ridge; and as the light curling smoke arose from the fire which was opened by the squares, and by which the latter sought to stem the current of the advancing host, it resembled the foam and spray thrown up by the mighty waters, as they dash on isolated rocks and beetling crags: and as the mass separated and rushed in every direction, completely covering the interior slope, it bore the appearance of innumerable eddies and counter-currents, threatening to overwhelm and ingulph the obstructions by which its onward course had been opposed. The storm continued to rage with the greatest violence, and the devoted squares seemed lost in the midst of the tumultuous onset. In vain did the maddening mass chafe and fret away its strength against these impregnable barriers, which, based upon the sacred principles of honour, discipline and duty, and cemented by the ties of patriotism, and the impulse of national glory, stood proudly unmoved and inaccessible. Disorder and confusion, produced by the commingling of corps and by the scattering fire from the faces of the chequered squares, gradually led to the retreat of parties of horsemen across the ridge: these were followed by broken squadrons, and at length the retrograde movement became general.

“Then the allied dragoons, who had been judiciously kept in readiness to act at the favourable moment, darted forward to complete the disorganization of the now receding waves of the French cavalry.”

[85]

In consequence of the enemy’s not closely pursuing, between the evenings of the 16th and 17th, the Prussians from Ligny to Wavre, these, during their retreat, scoured with strong patrols the whole country between their own left and the right of Napoleon’s army, which was then advancing, by the Charleroi road, towards Waterloo. The movements of both Grouchy and the Emperor were thus closely observed, and correct information forwarded from time to time to the Prussian head-quarters. The great vigilance exercised, not only retarded the communication between the Emperor and his detached marshal, by forcing the bearers of their dispatches to take a circuitous route, but also enabled Blücher to perform the contemplated and most important flank movement, without molestation, in order to join us on the field of Waterloo. During the battle of Ligny, some of the Prussian[86] army had shown a bad spirit, and many even had abandoned their colours and gone over to the enemy; while eight thousand men belonging to the provinces newly incorporated with Prussia, had returned home: still the morale of the great mass of the army remained firm and unshaken. On no occasion whatever did a defeated army extricate itself with so much adroitness and order, or retire from a hard-fought battle with so little diminution of its moral force. The example of their venerable and heroic commander, “Marshal Vorwärts,” as he was termed by his soldiers, no doubt stimulated their courage. The Prince, notwithstanding his having been severely shaken and bruised by his fall on the 16th, and his advanced age and toil-worn frame, was, on the morning of the 18th, early on horseback amongst those he termed his children. By an order of the day his troops were thus addressed, “I[87] shall immediately lead you once more against the enemy; we shall beat him, because it is our duty to do so.”

The difficulties encountered by the Prussians on their march from Wavre, by St.-Lambert, to the field of Waterloo, would have put the endurance of any troops to the test. From the heavy rains, the roads were ancle deep, and the defiles of St.-Lambert turned into a regular swamp, almost impassable for men and horses; still worse for the guns and tumbrels of ammunition. These were very numerous and far from being well horsed, sinking at intervals up to the axle-trees. The horses floundering caused a stoppage, and the most robust soldiers in endeavouring to extricate the guns and ammunition waggons would drop down, overcome by the fatigue of their exertions, and declare “they could not get on.”—“But we must get on,” replied their veteran commander, who seemed to multiply himself, and might be seen at different points along the line of march, exciting his men to exertion by words of encouragement: “I have promised Wellington to be up,” said Blücher “and up we must get. Surely you will not make me forfeit my word. Exert yourselves a little more, and victory is certain.”

The duke of Wellington was in constant communication throughout the day with the Prussians, by means of general Müffling, who was attached to our head-quarters’ staff, and by colonel Freemantle, aide-de-camp, colonel Stavely, and captain (now lieutenant-colonel) Basil Jackson of the Royal staff corps, and on the Duke’s staff.

The four corps of Blücher’s army had been concentrated at and near Wavre on the evening of the 17th. The guns of the three corps which had fought at Ligny were refitted, and, as well as the troops, supplied with a fresh provision of ammunition.

The 4th (Bulow’s) corps, which, up to this time, had not fired a shot in the campaign, set out at sunrise on the 18th towards the French right flank, by way of St.-Lambert; they were preceded by strong patrols to ascertain whether Napoleon had yet taken precautionary measures to obstruct their junction with us, or to protect his own right. It was soon discovered that this precaution, so essential to the protection of his[88] right, had been overlooked by the Emperor: the Prussians immediately availed themselves of the advantage which his neglect afforded, by throwing a force into the wood of Paris, which commanded the defiles of the Lasne and St.-Lambert. Zieten’s, or the first corps, was to march, by Fromont and Ohain, direct upon our left; Pirch’s, or the second corps, was to follow Bulow’s: they were delayed by a part of Wavre being on fire, and by the great difficulty of making progress through the defiles of St.-Lambert. They were expected, nevertheless, to be up by or before two o’clock. It was near five o’clock when the first two brigades of Bulow’s corps debouched from their covered position in the wood of Paris.

The 15th brigade, under general Losthin, and the 16th under colonel Hiller, with some cavalry, (altogether about 16,000 men and forty-four guns,) drew up perpendicularly to the French right flank; upon which Durutte’s division, which formed the right of the French main front line, was thrown back en potence. The Prussian commanders detached some battalions to Frischermont and Smohain to secure their right flank, they also sent a few battalions to the Lasne, the woods of Virère and Hubremont, to support their left. So stealthily and cautiously did the Prussians approach Smohain, that both the enemy and allies seemed astounded upon their debouching from the enclosures.

General Domont’s cavalry were still en potence, but at a considerable distance from the Prussians, whose advanced batteries opened upon the French cavalry, although at a long range; but this was merely to acquaint Wellington and Napoleon of their arrival, which doubtless alarmed the latter, whilst, by the former, it was listened to with joy.

Domont sent on part of his force to attack the Prussians, and moved forward his line. Some Prussian cavalry passed through the infantry to meet them, and drove back the French advance: the Prussian cavalry were soon obliged to fall back; but, as their infantry were advancing, and their artillery kept up a sharp fire, Domont did not attack. The Prussian battalions, detached to Smohain, cleared the enclosures, and drew up near the French right flank: they were attacked and driven back by a part of Durutte’s division; but upon the[89] Prussians reaching the enclosures and hollow-ways, they maintained their ground and kept up a rattling fire. This was after six o’clock. Napoleon had ordered the 6th corps, under count de Lobau, to move to the right, and take up a position, where, with six to eight thousand men of all arms, and favoured by the strong ground in front of Plancenoit, he could keep in check thirty thousand of his enemies: at the same time the old and middle guard were advanced into the plain, and occupied the ground vacated by the 6th corps.

Durutte’s light troops had been previously reinforced, and made a desperate effort to force back the Nassau-men at Papelotte and Smohain, for the purpose of preventing the junction of Bulow’s corps with the allied left; but, after a sharp and close skirmish, the enemy’s intention was frustrated. The Prussian general, observing De Lobau’s advance, extended his line; his right rested upon Frischermont, and his left upon the wood of Virère. Part of prince William’s cavalry was in reserve. De Lobau’s corps moved forward; Domont’s and Subervie’s cavalry remained as a second line. De Lobau’s guns soon opened a brisk cannonade upon Bulow’s corps, and were answered with equal spirit.

La Haye-Sainte[46] was again to be attacked, and the west gates soon became the scene of a most dreadful struggle and carnage. Colonel Baring had again applied for a reinforcement and ammunition: the former was sent; but the latter, of which he stood so much in need, was not supplied. The gallant defenders were now cautioned to be sparing of the few cartridges left, and to take deliberate aim at the assailants, who seemed to press on with renewed vigour.

On this occasion, the enemy set fire to the barn, which caused considerable alarm to those on the defensive; but, fortunately, the reinforcement arrived. The Nassau-men, with their huge camp kettles, which they used as buckets, arrived[90] most opportunely, and Baring, with his officers and men, soon extinguished the flames, but not without the loss of many a brave fellow. At this time a portion of the enemy again succeeded in getting into the little garden, and made an effort to force an entrance by the back door. Swarms of their skirmishers passed the buildings and established themselves immediately under the crest of our position, where they not only found cover from the fire above, but, as before, cut off the communication between the farm and our main line. The 5th and 8th line battalions of the German legion were led against the assailants; they pressed on at a good pace, the enemy giving ground. A body of cuirassiers was at hand and fell upon the 5th Germans; but these, being supported by a portion of the remnant of lord Edward Somerset’s brigade, suffered but little; the 8th however were dropped upon quite unawares, and nearly all destroyed. Colonel Schröder was wounded mortally; ensign Moreau, who carried the King’s colour, was severely wounded, and the colour carried off by the enemy.

Every arm on the right of our front line was much annoyed by some of the French left batteries, which had been pushed forward. My horse was killed by a round-shot from that direction; I was however soon mounted again on a cuirassier’s horse.

At length lieutenant Louis was ordered to turn two guns upon those on the enemy’s left; he soon silenced them, and thus rendered essential service, particularly to us, who being on the right, were completely enfiladed by them. A battery was run up to the bank on the side of the cross-road, about a hundred and fifty yards on the Lion side of where the cross-road leads down towards the north-east angle of the orchard of Hougoumont. The muzzles of the guns rested upon the bank, on a level with the ridge in their front, which screened the carriages and wheels from the enemy’s observation and fire. Soon after, a strong body of the enemy’s cavalry advanced upon the battery, which reserved its fire until they came within fifty yards, when, with terrific effect, it opened, doubly charged with grape. The space in front of the battery was quickly covered with killed and wounded. The fire of our[91] artillery during the action surpassed everything of the kind ever before witnessed, frequently making wide roads through the enemy’s masses. From our infantry being generally kept recumbent behind the crest of our position and thus screened from the enemy’s observation, our gunners suffered most dreadfully from the constant exposure to the direct fire of the French artillery, who at times saw nothing else at which to aim.

From certain movements in the enemy’s line, there was reason to expect an attack of infantry towards the right of Alten’s division. Part of the King’s dragoon guards and Blues were moved towards that point. The Cumberland Hanoverian hussars, posted some distance from the front, were also moved close up to general Halkett’s squares; but a few musket-balls whistling about them, and a shell falling into a Nassau square close by, so alarmed them, that they took themselves off. Upon seeing this, lord Uxbridge sent an aide-de-camp, captain T. Wildman, to bring them back, but to no purpose, and Uxbridge, deeming his absence long, sent a second messenger after them, captain H. Seymour, who, finding that the colonel and his men were anxious to quit the scene of action, took the former by the collar, and nearly shook him out of his saddle; he then inquired for the next in command, but it appeared there was no one; Seymour then laid hold of the bridle of colonel Hake’s horse, to lead him back to his post, hoping that the men would follow, but to no purpose: the colonel and his regiment preferred going to Brussels in whole skins, to the chance of having them perforated in the field. So strong was their dislike to the smell of gunpowder, that they had no perception of the honours that a gallant bearing might win. The cowards proceeded forthwith to Brussels, spreading a false alarm throughout the journey. The regiment was soon after disbanded, and the colonel cashiered[47].

The expected attacking infantry were now seen in motion on the heights in front of La Belle-Alliance; a body of cuirassiers[92] from the valley under our position near La Haye-Sainte joined them, keeping a little on their right rear. As they neared the point about where the Lion now stands, lord Edward Somerset led part of his brigade down to meet them: he was received with a heavy fire; his men however galloped down upon the head of the column, but, being at this time very much reduced, they could not penetrate it; they nevertheless checked the enemy. Lord Uxbridge rode up to Tripp’s brigade, and after addressing a few words to them, turned round to lead them on: he had scarcely crossed the ridge and begun to descend the slope towards the enemy, when he found that he was alone, no one following him; upon which he returned to Tripp, expressed himself in severe terms, and rode off in anger. After this, one of the German light cavalry regiments was led on, and it succeeded in stopping the enemy, but it was much cut up.

During this time, Wellington, observing that Napoleon’s attention was directed towards the Prussians advancing upon his right, and his Grace seeing there was no danger of his own extreme right being disturbed, had ordered lord Hill to move Chassé’s Dutch-Belgian division from Braine-l’Alleud towards the scene of action. Some short time afterwards, the hero of Almaraz and Aroyo-de-Molinos brought into front line Duplat’s German legion brigade, followed by general Adam’s light brigade, which latter took position on the rear slope of our right wing; those were followed shortly after by colonel Hugh Halkett’s Hanoverians. Altogether these reinforcements, with the batteries accompanying them, were a sight more reviving to our part of the line than a double share of grog, though even that would have been most welcome. Soon after the Germans had passed us, the steel-jacket cavalry were at them while in motion; but the Germans, several of whom in advance were riflemen, emptied many a saddle and made many a horse rear, plunge and fall, and ultimately beat off the cuirassiers.

Lord Hill rendered himself most conspicuous by the energy and zeal he displayed, and the efforts he used to support the gallant defenders of Hougoumont, as also to repel the repeated desperate assaults upon our right wing; thus vigorously[93] assisting the chief, under whom he had immortalized himself during the Peninsular campaign.

Our 23d fuzileers, who came into front line after Byng’s brigade was advanced to Hougoumont, and suffered severely from the enemy’s fire, received an unfriendly visit from some cavalry, whom they eventually disposed of in most gallant style.

At this time part of the Brunswick troops were with us on the right, and Duplat’s Germans with part of Halkett’s Hanoverians were between the right of the main line and Hougoumont orchard. These, with the troops at the loop-holed wall and hedges on the right and along the avenue, were kept wide awake, particularly those under Hepburn in and about[94] the orchard, which must have changed masters at least a dozen times during the day.

Adam was now in our left rear, and his men most anxious to have a blow at their old acquaintances. Their wishes were soon gratified, by orders from the Duke in person, to drive back some fellows, as his Grace always called them, who had crept close up to our ridge, near where the hedge-row is on the road side between the Lion and Hougoumont; they were concealed by the smoke of the crashing fire which they threw into our gunners and front squares. The order was received with joy from the white cravat man whom they were wont to follow, and acknowledged by a hearty cheer from the Lights, who felt gratified that the old order of things was about being renewed, and that they at Waterloo, as well as through the Peninsula, should take an active part in the battle’s front.

His Grace was here again exposed to a shower of leaden hailstones, one of which severely wounded in the shoulder our fire-eating adjutant-general, sir Edward Barnes, who sported a gold-embroidered scarlet coat; most of our staff officers wore blue frock coats in the field.

Adam’s fine fellows were much excited, and forward they pressed up the slope, in line, four deep; for some reason, their old acquaintances, the French infantry, would not stay to receive them, but made a retrograde movement down the outer slopes, followed by the brigade, until its right, which was thrown rather forward, was near the corner of the orchard of Hougoumont, and its left at the point where the valley terminates, in right front of the Lion. The brigade was formed of the 71st and two companies of the 95th on the right; the 52d in squares of wings in the centre, and the second battalion of the 95th on the left. Here, as if to fetch up for lost time, they were continually pounded by the artillery, and charged by cavalry.

Soon after five o’clock, La Haye-Sainte was taken by the enemy, who, led by Ney, and perceiving that the fire of the defenders had greatly slackened, made a rush at the open barn door, and broke open the west yard-door: some climbed upon the wall and fired down upon our poor fellows, who, for want of cartridges, could not return the fire. After a[95] desperate struggle at the western gate and barn door, with the sword-bayonet, and butts of their rifles, they were obliged to retreat to the house, where, in the passage through the house to the garden, the remains of the gallant little garrison, with their spirited commander, made a most determined resistance. They were ultimately obliged to abandon the post altogether, and to fall back upon the main position. This was what the French erroneously called carrying the village of Mont-St.-Jean, (full three quarters of a mile off). We can afford however to be good-tempered at their mistake; for the taking of the farm-house, La Haye-Sainte, which was in our front, (while Mont-St.-Jean was in our rear,) was the only advantage they gained during the battle. It seems that the loss of this post displeased the Duke[48]. Yet the place was most gallantly defended as long as there was a round of ammunition to use.

While Adam’s brigade was in its advanced position, it was frequently charged, and, on one occasion, when in line; the 52d, directed by the Duke in person, stood firm and received a charge from the French cavalry, but without any effectual result to the enemy. Nor ought our foes to have expected anything else[49], as they had not succeeded against any of our skeletons of squares, when they themselves were in their full strength and vigour. There is not a doubt that our gallant enemy and admirer, general Foy, who commanded a division on that great day, and was stationed in the field beyond the orchard of Hougoumont, alludes to this brigade and Maitland’s 1st guards, with Halkett’s, when he says:

“We saw these sons of Albion formed upon the plain, between the wood of Hougoumont and the village of Mont-St.-Jean. Death was before them and in their ranks, disgrace in their rear,” (and I hope will ever remain a long day’s march). “In this terrible situation, neither the cannon-balls[50] of the Imperial guard, discharged almost at point-blank, nor the victorious cavalry of France, could make the least impression[96] on the immovable British infantry: one might have been almost tempted to fancy that it had rooted itself in the ground, but for the majestic movement[51] which its battalions commenced some minutes after sun-set, when the approach of the Prussian army announced to Wellington that he had just achieved the most decisive victory of the age.”

We may imagine that those steel-clad gentlemen had some particular pique against the 1st foot-guards and Halkett’s brigade, from the repeated visits they paid them. The lancers also did the same. Whatever was the cause, not a brigade in the line was visited more by the enemy’s cavalry than sir Colin Halkett’s[52]; and they were not forgotten by the Duke, who frequently passed the brigade, it being rather a central point. The Duke at one moment sent colonel Gordon to Halkett, to inquire what square of his was so much in advance: it was a mass of killed and wounded of the 30th and 73d, of his brigade, huddled together, which his Grace, through the smoke, had mistaken for a square.

An incident occurred, as related by Siborne, worthy of notice: “It was about six o’clock, that Napoleon replied to Ney’s demand for fresh infantry, ‘Où voulez-vous que j’en prenne? Voulez-vous que j’en fasse?’” (‘Where can I get them? Can I make them?’) an expression, the force of which is rendered sufficiently obvious by the critical circumstances of his position, and clearly proves that his operations had taken an unfavourable turn.

[97]

La Haye-Sainte was no sooner in the power of the French troops, than they received orders to press as much as possible that part of our line, and clear the way for the Imperial guard.

In order to avail themselves of the advantages of so valuable a position, they loop-holed the gable-end of the house, erected a scaffold along the garden wall, cut holes through the garden hedge, resembling windows, and threw a force in advance of[98] the garden, which was protected from the fire above by the natural slope, in addition to an artificial bank that abutted upon the natural one, extending from the north-east corner of the garden wall along the road side to where the monument to colonel Gordon is erected. This breastwork enabled the enemy to throw a front fire into our riflemen at the knoll and in the sand-hole, as well as an oblique fire into Lambert’s and Kempt’s brigades along the Wavre road. Those arrangements were scarcely completed, when a rattling fire was thrown among our sand-larks, who, being unable from their position to return it with any effect, took to flight towards their reserve, followed by all our riflemen from the knoll. The enemy immediately sent a force to the knoll and sand-hole, which severely annoyed our 27th; who, until the advance of the whole line, were, with the other troops on that part of the front, kept under a very galling fire; at times, muzzle to muzzle. The French brought two guns round the garden hedge, and, placing them between the north-east angle of the garden wall and our position, threw grape-shot into the 1st, 4th, 27th, 28th, 40th, 79th, and 95th; but, before they had time to fire a second round, a concentrated fire from our riflemen destroyed their gunners; they then pushed on a crowd of skirmishers, who, protected from our fire, crept along the banks, close in upon Alten’s, Lambert’s and Kempt’s troops. As we could not get at them with powder and ball, it was thought advisable to try the effect of steel: colonel Ompteda led on the 5th German line; upon which they gave way, and took shelter, as well as they could, round the garden hedge, when a line of cavalry from the hollow rushed upon the Germans; and, as captain Kincaird of the rifles observes, “Every man of them was put to death in a short time, except an officer on a little black horse, who went off to the rear like a shot out of a shovel.” Some of our light cavalry attempted to rescue the Germans; and our 95th, who had previously pointed their rifles at the cuirassiers, but had suspended their fire through fear of destroying our own infantry, now let fly and entirely cleared the whole front. Their skirmishers then moved to the left, towards Halkett’s brigade and the 1st guards; the eagle eye of the Duke saw it, and he ordered the guards to form[99] line and drive the enemy off, which they did, when some cuirassiers approached, but our lads were in square again. The cuirassiers moved off, receiving the fire from the squares of the guards, as well as from those of the 52d and 95th.

Some time after, the remaining two brigades of Bulow’s corps debouched, and forming into columns sent their batteries to the front, which made the Prussian artillery more formidable than that of the French. Blücher’s left was making towards Plancenoit, in the right rear of the enemy. At this time, seven o’clock, the Prussian force in the field amounted to nearly 29,000 men and sixty-four guns. Their guns commanded the whole of the French right en potence; which, like the Prussian line, was parallel to the Genappe road, and nearly at right angles to their former front. The undulating ground over which the Prussians were advancing, rose like an amphitheatre, and their guns, in consequence, could open from the summit of numerous little heights; whilst at the intervals between the batteries, their troops advanced into the plain. Nothing could be more favourable for a force attacking an enemy’s flank.

A Prussian battery dislodged a French one on the heights near Chantilly, and taking up the abandoned position, it directed its fire upon the enemy posted between Plancenoit and La Belle-Alliance.

The Prussian left was now close approaching the village of Plancenoit, which, up to the present period, had not been occupied. The French force being less numerous than the Prussian, De Lobau fell back towards the Genappe road, where the Prussian round-shot was now thickly falling upon both sides of La Belle-Alliance; near which, Napoleon had remained during the greater part of the day. The only reserve he now had was the infantry of the Imperial guard, and the pressure upon his right flank was so great, that he was obliged to send the eight battalions of the young guard, with their divisional and two twelve-pounder reserve batteries, under general Duhesme, to the village of Plancenoit, as the only means of preventing the Prussians from getting in the French rear.

At this time Blücher received intelligence that his 3d corps,[100] which had been left at Wavre as a rear-guard to check the enemy’s corps under Grouchy, had been attacked by a superior force and obliged to retire[53]. Notwithstanding such intelligence might have shaken the firmest nerves, nothing changed the purpose of the indomitable veteran. Blücher saw clearly that the field upon which he was now engaged was the spot where the fate of the campaign would be decided. He therefore sent orders to Thielmann, to hold out as well as he could; and ordered his left wing to move upon Plancenoit, and to get possession of it, if possible.

Duhesme, with the young guard, had arrived at the village and made his dispositions. As the Prussians neared Plancenoit, they were received with a stinging fire of musketry from the French skirmishers, and some French guns opened upon the advancing columns, but did not arrest their progress; they gallantly pressed on, took three guns, and got possession of the churchyard, a strong position, which shortly after they were compelled to abandon, though not without making a most resolute defence. They rallied near the village, and, being reinforced, advanced to make another assault: this being observed by Napoleon, he sent general Morand with two battalions of the old guard and two twelve-pounder batteries, and shortly after general Pelet, with another battalion of the guard and a reserve battery; this force, in conjunction with De Lobau’s line on their left, attacked and routed the whole Prussian force, pushing them back upon their first position on the opposite heights. This convinced Napoleon that Blücher was not up in sufficient force to make an effective effort against his right flank, and he could, therefore, hold the Prussians in check without making any change in his line of battle opposed to Wellington.

Onset now followed onset in rapid succession, and before one assault was met and repulsed, another was prepared and pressing on.

His Grace, when he observed the diminished numbers of his brave troops, presenting still the same fearless attitude, felt[101] there must be a limit to human endurance, and frequently turned his telescope in the direction where he expected the Prussian reinforcements to arrive, and who were to cooperate more immediately with his left.

Hougoumont, as has been stated, had been repeatedly attacked: the struggle for its possession was still most obstinate and sanguinary; the large orchard and wood continued to be the scene of a dreadful carnage. The enemy generally out-flanked our men upon their left; and at times stealing along under the east hedge from the south-east angle of the orchard, opened a flank fire upon them, when driven through the north hedge near our friendly hollow-way; but whenever our foes attempted to cross the orchard near the east garden wall, the Coldstream sent a galling flank fire into them. Hougoumont had been reinforced by the 2d line and light companies of Duplat’s brigade, as well as by the advance-guard battalion of Brunswickers, who, together with the guards and the remainder of the Nassau-men and Hanoverian riflemen, drove the enemy out of the orchard into the wood.

During the time Duplat’s brigade was in its advanced position, it suffered from the French light troops: many of the officers were killed or wounded; Duplat was killed.

Skirmishing had gone on briskly at the farms of Papelotte, La Haye, the hamlet of Smohain, and along our left, where the want of ammunition was so great, that the enemy pressed close up to the hedge, driving in our skirmishers[54]: but they were soon driven back, when a fresh supply arrived.

From the time that La Haye-Sainte had been taken by the enemy, the attacks upon our centre were carried on with the greatest desperation. The French crowded in swarms round the knoll and sand-hole, and behind the artificial and road-side banks, which formed excellent breastworks for the advanced skirmishers. These, by laying their muskets on the bank at the level of the plain, could sweep it in all directions. Our advance, at times, moved forward and dislodged them;[102] but they returned on the falling back of our troops. This fire was vigorously replied to by Lambert’s and Kempt’s brigades, and Pack’s Royals. Ompteda’s brigade was reduced to a mere handful of men; Kielmansegge’s was in a similar condition: in fact Alten’s division had dwindled away to a weak brigade. The remains of Halkett’s brigade were from the first formed into two weak squares. No portion of the line was more attacked both by infantry and cavalry, or more cannonaded than Alten’s division. He himself was severely wounded. The 73d, one of his regiments, was for a time commanded by a subaltern, (lieutenant Stewart). Pack’s brigade was reduced to a skeleton, and had, by forming column, wheeling into line, and by edging and moving to its right, got from the left close to the Genappe road, a little in rear of where stood the so called “Wellington tree.” Adam’s brigade, since brought into action, had been subjected to so furious a cannonade and repeated cavalry attacks, that it was deemed necessary to draw it behind the position. On one occasion a French horse battery was pushed forward near the south-east angle of the orchard of Hougoumont, where it opened upon the brigade: but our batteries on the ridge concentrated their fire upon it, and drove it off. Our artillery-men cheered. It witnessed the great effect produced by some rockets which were thrown from the valley upon the French horse. Our batteries had been most successful on this part of the line in checking and destroying the enemy’s cavalry.

It must have been evident to Napoleon, that, notwithstanding the battle had been raging for more than seven hours, the victory which he had calculated upon early in the morning was yet to be gained: although the day was far advanced, he showed no despair, but continued to feed the fight with fresh victims. The result of the operations, up to this time, had been most destructive to both sides; more particularly so to our gallant foes, who, from acting on the offensive throughout, were frequently much exposed to the close and direct fire of our batteries in advancing to the attack and retiring to reform, after each successive repulse. Our troops everywhere maintained a degree of cool forbearance and courage, which none but British soldiers could show under such trying circumstances.[103] About half-past seven P.M. the colours of the 30th and 73d were sent to the rear, to the satisfaction of many; the colonel of the latter regiment, the late lord Harris, who was wounded soon after, taking the 73d’s colour from the officer, gave it in charge of a sergeant, to carry to the rear.

The enemy’s cavalry, who were now nearly sobered, would come up singly, and fire their carbines at the squares. Their horse artillery often galloped up, unlimbered, when crash! crash! came the grape into Halkett’s squares, making gaps which it was admirable to see the fine fellows fill up, and that without orders. Whenever the Duke came, which at this momentous period was often, there was a low whisper in the ranks, “Here’s the Duke!” and all was steady as on parade. No matter what the havock and destruction might be, the Duke was always the coolest man there: in the words of an eyewitness of this bloody scene, the Duke was coolness personified[55]. It really appeared that the more desperate the fight, the more determined were the few brave fellows that remained to hold their ground; yet often would a murmur escape them, such as, “This is thundering murderous work! why don’t we go into them?... Let us give them the cold steel,” etc., etc. But such murmurs were soon hushed, and again were displayed those traits of unyielding passive courage, the grandest, the most sublime characteristics of the British soldier. The troops evinced in their resignation a discipline unparalleled in European armies. Though confident in their chiefs and themselves, their foes were not less so: a French cuirassier officer, a prisoner in Halkett’s left square, replied, in a surly and snappish tone, to an officer of the 30th who asked him what force Bonaparte had, “You will see directly, sir.”

It was now past seven o’clock. The Prussians kept up a distant cannonade, and skirmished with the French right en potence, seeking a favourable opportunity to make a more[104] powerful attack with the fresh troops that were then seen advancing. These war-breathing bands, led by Blücher in person, full of determination, sure to strike home with the whole force of their arm, were at length seen streaming along in swarms, extending round Napoleon’s right wing, and menacing his rear. The allied line stood firm and unbroken, the day was fast waning, and Napoleon began to manifest impatience, and felt much anxiety for the result of the battle, and he evidently must have imagined that a desperate effort to break our centre could alone prevent the defeat, which the arrival of the Prussians in such force must render inevitable. Thus situated, he had no alternative but to rush into destruction, or success. The political existence and future destiny of this renowned chief were fast drawing to a close; he could not reasonably anticipate assistance from Grouchy, therefore he at once resolved, as a last resource, his unsuccessful attempt to force the allied position with his devoted guards, that immovable phalanx which, in the greatest emergencies, had invariably stood as the rallying point and rampart of their army. Count Drouot was ordered to move forward into the valley (in front of and between La Belle-Alliance and Hougoumont enclosures,) the remaining twelve battalions of the old and middle guard, and form them into two columns of attack and a reserve. With these, Napoleon decided upon making what proved his final struggle, directing their advance between La Haye-Sainte and Hougoumont, upon the allied centre, undoubtedly impressed with the idea, that an overwhelming mass of fresh and chosen troops must succeed against an enemy shattered and reduced by repeated and furious attacks, and a ravaging cannonade[56].

Four battalions of the middle guard, in mass of battalion columns a favourite plan of the French, and formed left in front into one column of attack, were to advance towards a point, about where the Lion now stands, then occupied by Maitland’s brigade, the 2d and 3d battalions of the 1st British[105] foot-guards, and on their left by Halkett’s British brigade whose right was the 69th and 33d, and his left the 30th and 73d regiments. Four more battalions of the middle guard with two of the old guard, (chiefly chasseurs,) en échelons, upon their left rear, formed a second column of attack, lower down the valley. The other two battalions of the old guard remained in reserve nearly opposite La Belle-Alliance, right and left; and in rear of them were drawn up in reserve the remains of the splendid cavalry force with which the Emperor had been making such desperate but fruitless attacks on our position. These constituted his last reserve. The attacking columns were to be supported by the remains of D’Erlon’s corps on their right, and Reille’s corps on the left. Those movements along the French position indicated that a decisive blow, which the situation of the battle now rendered inevitable, was about to be directed against our centre; it was soon discovered, by the well sustained order and compactness of the columns, and the dark waving forest of bear’s-skin caps, that our prowess would be tested by the redoubted Imperial guard.

At this period of the action, many of our guns stood abandoned in position: some rendered useless by the enemy’s fire, others had the muzzles bent down from the excessive heat, some were left for want of materials to load them; many touch-holes melted away, when officers were seen applying paper with a small hole in which to place the fuze, and thus prevent its dropping into the touch-hole: numerous gunners were driven off by the enemy. Our confidence in the Duke was unbounded, notwithstanding that our army was much exhausted and reduced. Disorder and confusion continued in our rear: the roads were crowded with broken carriages, baggage, wounded officers, soldiers, dismounted dragoons, and trains of followers from the combined army; more particularly the foreigners, many of whom gave as a reason for abandoning the field, that Napoleon and his legions were invincible, he would certainly be victorious, and that it was quite absurd to contend against them. In fact, what with the killed, wounded, those in attendance, and others who had gone to the rear through fear, our fighting army, towards the close of the day, became reduced to a handful of men, a mere wreck of its[106] former self. It is on record that upwards of twelve thousand had sought refuge in the wood of Soigne, whose desertion imposed great hardships on those who gallantly remained to achieve so glorious a victory. These were resolved to conquer or to perish on this sanguinary field, and by none was this feeling more powerfully manifested, than by the few remaining in Sir Colin Halkett’s brigade. They were often heard to exclaim, “This is thundering murderous work: we shall see which will stand killing longest.”

Vivian, who had been all day on the left of our line, observing the advance, towards his position, of part of the Prussian cavalry of general Röder, attached to the 1st corps under general Zieten, and being aware that fresh cavalry was wanted on the right, put his brigade in motion. He was soon met by lord Uxbridge, who felt pleased that the Duke’s wishes had been anticipated. Vandeleur, who was also on the left, was ordered to follow Vivian. The right regiment, the 10th hussars, was posted by lord Uxbridge about a hundred yards in rear of the junction of the cross-roads, (near the Lion;) the 18th hussars on their left stretching towards the Genappe road, behind the remains of Alten’s division, and the 1st German hussars were in second line. After posting Vivian, Uxbridge joined Vandeleur, whom he posted parallel with the Nivelles road, the 11th on the right, the 16th next, and on the left the remains of the 12th light dragoons, in rear of Adam’s, Maitland’s and Halkett’s brigades; he then returned to Vivian. In order to draw his own conclusions, his Lordship dismounted, and, unattended, advanced down the slope to try and get a view of the enemy who were hidden by the smoke. Vivian rode after him and begged him not to place himself in such imminent danger; on which he returned, saying that he was of Vivian’s opinion, that it would be best to wait an opportunity to attack.

The opportune arrival of the fresh cavalry upon this part of our line gave in no small degree confidence to the shattered remains of brave fellows who were left to defend the front. The exceeding small force which really defended the crest of our line on this terrible day, is almost incredible, and their conduct beyond all praise. They not only stood the brunt of[107] the strife, but upon their steadiness and determination depended entirely the holding of the position. Uxbridge returned to the Duke, who was at a short distance to the right, watching the formation of heavy columns on our right of La Belle-Alliance; they were preparing the coming storm.

His Grace dispatched colonel Freemantle in search of the Prussians, who were expected to join the left of our line, and to request Zieten, their chief, to send on a part of his force to strengthen some weak parts of the front. Zieten did not feel himself authorized to comply with the Duke’s request, but said that his whole force would soon be up.

Numerous applications reached the Duke for support and reinforcements, or to be relieved by the second line, as divisions, brigades and regiments had dwindled away to skeletons and handfuls of men. The only reply was, “They must hold their ground to the last man.” Sir Guy Campbell delivered that answer to the gallant remains of Pack’s brigade, and the Duke told sir Colin Halkett, that there must not be the least symptom of falling back, as everything depended on the steadiness of the front troops. Frequently, as the Duke passed the men, he heard murmurs, such as, “Are we to be massacred here? Let us go at them, let us give them Brumme-gum!” i. e. the bayonet; and he would calmly reply, “Wait a little longer, my lads; you shall have at them presently.”

The ammunition was nearly exhausted, when, fortunately, an artillery cart galloped along, and dropped some casks into the squares: this raised their spirits and made them feel more satisfied.

The Duke, finding he must depend entirely on his own resources to ward off the blow about to be struck by his antagonist,[108] made such dispositions as his means would allow. It was indeed high time to strain every nerve, to strengthen and defend the point where the fiercest storm of battle was about to burst, and repel the last and most desperate struggle, now ready to be made. Maitland’s and Halkett’s right was advanced: the Brunswick battalions on the right were to move into the space between Halkett’s British and Kruse’s Nassau brigades. Chassé’s Dutch-Belgian division was to cross the Nivelles road, and form, D’Aubremé on the right, and Ditmers on the left, in rear of Adam’s, Maitland’s and Halkett’s brigades. The remains of the allied cavalry, except Merle’s brigade, were in rear of the position on the right of the Genappe road, and most of our infantry were deployed into four-deep lines, and for shelter lay recumbent on the ground behind the crest of the ridge. About this time a French officer of carabineers[57] rode into the right of the 52d regiment as a deserter, and announced to major Blair[58] and colonel sir A. Fraser, that Napoleon was about to attack us at the head of his Imperial guard; this was made known to the Duke. Napoleon, it appeared, was marshalling the Imperial guard for the approaching attack: of this his Grace was well aware.

The skirmishers in advance of their columns about La Haye-Sainte, the knoll and sand-pit, and along the valley right and left, threw out a rattling fire for the purpose of harassing and weakening our line, in order to clear the way for the grand attack by the Imperial guard; this fire was vigorously replied to by our troops, who were partially covered from the enemy’s fire by the hedge-row and banks on this part of the front. Our gallant 27th, upon the bank at the junction of the roads, was still much exposed. Our 95th rifles and the 4th foot were extended along the Wavre road. The 40th, 79th, 28th, and 1st Royals were in line behind the rear hedge. The fire increased, and it appeared as if all would be borne[109] down before it. The banks on the road side, the garden wall, the knoll and sand-pit swarmed with skirmishers, who seemed determined to keep down our fire in front; those behind the artificial bank seemed more intent upon destroying the 27th, who at this time, it may literally be said, were lying dead in square, their loss after La Haye-Sainte had fallen was awful, without the satisfaction of having scarcely fired a shot; many of our troops in rear of the ridge were similarly situated. A British officer, who was an eyewitness of the gallant conduct of the 27th, says, “If ever the sovereign give them another motto, it should be, Muzzle to muzzle; for so they fought at Waterloo.”

Efficient artillery upon this part of the line we had none; thus the enemy again brought up some guns near the corner of La Haye-Sainte garden hedge, and placed them so that their muzzles were on a level with our ridge, from whence they rapidly dealt out grape upon Kielmansegge’s two squares, completely smashing them, until they, like the rest, were reduced to a mere clump of men. The artillery and musketry fire was increasing. The skirmishers pressing on, and their drums beating, foretold the advance of columns to the charge. Upon this, the prince of Orange ordered two battalions of the Nassau brigade, under general Kruse, to advance, and gallantly placed himself at their head: the Prince was struck by a musket-ball in the left shoulder, and the command of this part of our line devolved on count Kielmansegge. The Nassau-men were giving way, when the five battalions of Brunswick infantry moved into the interval between Halkett and Kruse; but, before they were in position, they were received by such a stinging fire from the French skirmishers, and crashing fire of grape from their artillery, and became so enveloped in smoke, that they could not get into order until they were in close contact with the enemy. This vigorous attack caused the part of Alten’s division on Halkett’s left, with the Nassau-men and Brunswickers, to give way, and fall back under the crest of the ridge. Now came really the tug of war, the poise or balance of the battle.

At this critical moment Wellington galloped to the spot, and addressing himself to the Brunswickers, succeeded, by the[110] electrifying influence of his voice and presence, in rallying the discomfited columns. Lieutenant-colonel sir Alexander Gordon was mortally wounded on this occasion. By the example and encouragement of the commanding officers, the other brigades were also rallied and formed. The Duke went off hastily to the right again.

The battle had been now raging for nearly eight hours, and not a square had been broken, nor had the enemy gained more than one advantage, viz. the capture of La Haye-Sainte, which was through one of those mischances in war which often mar the best planned arrangements. But those continued furious attacks had not been met and repulsed without a most severe loss to the troops who had stood the brunt of the battle, and had been so long exposed to a murderous cannonade.

[111]

Vivian came to this part of the line about a quarter before eight P.M. The enemy’s skirmishers in crowds had again pressed on to our front, which, from its reduced state, was once more giving way. A battalion of the Brunswickers was retiring, having expended all its ammunition. The Nassau-men were falling back in mass upon the horses’ heads of the 10th hussars, and, as sir Hussey Vivian has since told me, had the 10th not been there, they would have retreated. Captain Shakspeare of the 10th was with sir Hussey, and they both did their utmost to encourage them. Vivian says that, in justice to many of their officers, he must state, that these endeavoured to stop the men; he saw one take a drummer by the collar, and make him beat the rally. The left of the[112] division now pressed on, led by Kielmansegge. Those on the right took it up, as well as the Brunswick and Nassau-men, their drums beating, Vivian, his aide-de-camp and many of his officers cheering them on, whilst the hussars followed in support; the French and their artillery falling back before them.

It was during this desperate effort of the enemy that the two attacking columns of the Imperial guard[59], amongst whom the most unbounded enthusiasm reigned, proudly led the van, and advanced en échelons right in front from the valley, between La Belle-Alliance and the enclosures of Hougoumont. The first, or leading column, was led by Napoleon in person, until the front files came abreast of where the high-road is cut through the bank beyond the orchard of La Haye-Sainte, a prominent point about two hundred yards to their left of the Genappe road, which they left obliquely on their right; here the Emperor gave them in charge of Ney. When the guards passed before him, he, for the last time, addressed them a few words of encouragement, but, from the noise, the words could not be heard, and Napoleon, in a significant manner, pointed to our position, when the shouts of “Vive l’Empereur! Vive Napoléon! En avant!” rent the air; those war-cries excited a phrenzy of ardour as his devoted followers pressed on to death and destruction.

[113]

At this moment Blücher’s artillery was blazing away upon the French right en potence, who returned the compliment, but not in full value. The firing was distinctly heard by Napoleon and his troops; and being apprehensive that it might damp their courage, he sent general Labédoyère through the line, with the false report[60], that it was Grouchy’s guns that had fallen upon the Prussian rear, and it only required a little firmness to complete the victory to which they were advancing.

The sanguinary drama was now, with the long and trying day, fast drawing to a close. The Emperor’s guards, their country’s pride, they who had never turned their backs on foe or fled the battle field, were, for the first time, about to attack men who, like themselves, acknowledged no victor; the unconquered were to measure their prowess with men who had never been vanquished, the world waiting with anxious expectation the result of this memorable day. The Imperial guard, led by the undaunted Ney, “le Brave des Braves,” advanced towards a point occupied by the first brigade of British foot-guards, and the 5th or Halkett’s British brigade. The guards were lying down, for cover from the shower of round and grape-shot and shells thrown amongst them by the French batteries. The enemy’s advance was, as usual, preceded by skirmishers, and covered by a tremendous fire of artillery, although, at this time, considerably diminished, many of their guns having been rendered useless. The French guards were well supported on their right by D’Erlon’s infantry columns, especially by those of Donzelot’s division, who prolonged this attack to the Genappe road against the Brunswickers, Nassau troops, and the rest of Alten’s division. About this time, Vandersmissen’s Dutch-Belgian brigade of guns most opportunely came in between the intervals of Halkett’s brigade. Reille’s columns on the left pressed on towards Hougoumont, which again became the scene of a severe struggle; Bachelu’s division advanced on their right of its enclosures, and D’Erlon’s columns en échelons pushed forward on[114] their right of La Haye-Sainte. As the leading column of the Imperial guard began to ascend the tongue of ground leading to the spot where the Lion now stands, it suffered most severely from the destructive fire of our right batteries, of which, from being ranged en échelons, every efficient gun played into the exposed long flank of the Imperial column with double charges of round, canister, case, or grape-shot. By this murderous fire the French ranks were most awfully ravaged, and they appeared to wave like high standing corn blown by sudden gusts of wind, from the terrific effect of each discharge; while caps and muskets might, at times, be seen flying in the air. Ney had his horse killed under him, and gallantly led along on foot; at his side general Friant was wounded severely, and general Michel mortally. To men enthusiastic, who felt certain they were advancing to a glorious victory, this was no check, and the Imperial guard pursued its onward course with a firm step. The veterans of Jena, Wagram and Austerlitz had, by their invincible prowess, decided many a battle, and their progress could only be arrested by death or severe wounds.

When the head of the column neared the line of the allies, it escaped the terrific fire of our right batteries, while at the same moment their own batteries ceased firing; a crowd of skirmishers rushed on and opened a stinging fire upon our artillery-men, who soon drove them back upon the columns by a discharge of grape, canister and case-shot; double charges were poured into the head of the enemy’s columns from Bolton’s guns, (now commanded by Napier,) and Vandersmissen’s batteries: the front of the enemy appeared to stand still, from the men being mowed down as they laboured up the slopes, while their rear seemed pressing on. The Imperial guard at length succeeded in crowning the ridge, upon which the French saw nothing but the batteries; they descried through the smoke some cocked hats, but little imagined that one of them covered the head of the illustrious Duke, who was shortly to acquire a last and crowning laurel, and that the sun of Napoleon was to set with the one just retiring from their view on the field of Waterloo.

The enemy pressed on until within about fifty yards of Halkett’s brigade, and the British foot-guards, who were[115] lying down, quietly awaiting the band of veteran heroes. Wellington then gave the words, “Up, guards, make ready[61]!” and ordered general Maitland to attack. They rose in line four deep, and appeared to the French as if they had sprung out of the earth; whilst the French grenadiers, with their high bear’s-skin caps and red plumes, looked like giants bearing down upon them. Our guards and Halkett’s right, the 69th and 33d, the gallant Halkett waving the latter regiment’s colour in their front, advanced a few paces and threw in a tremendous volley, that was followed up by independent file-firing, rapidly and steadily delivered. A stream of musketry and grape-shot was maintained with such coolness and precision, that the whole front of the enemy’s column was shaken: it was impossible to be otherwise; from four to five hundred of them were killed or wounded. This most efficacious fire dreadfully shattered the Imperial ranks, and stemmed their farther progress, the dreadful carnage still continuing with unabated fury. The French officers, waving their swords, and with shouts and words of encouragement, attempted to deploy and extend their front. But for this it was too late, the continued cross-fire which assailed them drove the foremost of the enemy back on their mass. Many in the midst of the column fired over the heads of their comrades, and their confusion became greater every moment[62].

[116]

Our adversary’s desperate situation being instantly perceived by the Duke, his Grace ordered the charge: lord Saltoun, who had joined from Hougoumont, called out, “Now’s the time, my boys!” Our guards and Halkett’s left advanced with a loud cheer to the charge, the latter against a column which, on nearing our position, inclined to its right from the rear of the leading column, and moved en échelons, steady as on parade, through the hollow on its right of the tongue of ground, where it was protected from the direct fire of our right batteries.

They gallantly advanced with a noble and admirable bearing; officers in front, arms sloped, drums beating the pas de charge, and between them and on their flanks their brass guns loaded with grape. When within ninety yards of Halkett’s left, they halted, carried arms as if to salute, and round wheeled their guns, down went their port-fires, and crash came the grape, accompanied by a volley, into the 30th and 73d regiments, who instantly returned the fire and came to the charge. Before the sharp report had died away, Vandersmissen’s brigade of guns, double-charged with grape, went Bang! bang! bang! right through the Imperial column: this appeared to rend it asunder, and it began to give way and disperse[63].

Our guards were pursuing the discomfited enemy into the valley, when the left or second attacking column of the Imperial guard was observed closely pressing on, undismayed by the[117] defeat of their first column. To avoid being taken in flank, orders were given to the British guards to go about and resume their original position, but the word was misunderstood, and they fell into confusion; however notwithstanding the two battalions were mixed pell-mell together, getting the command on recrossing the ridge, “Halt, front, form!” they instantly fronted and formed four deep, and told off in companies of forties. Halkett’s left, which had charged, on getting clear of the smoke, saw the enemy broken and going off in disorder; loud and deep were the execrations bestowed upon them for not waiting to meet the retaliating vengeance, now ready to be inflicted for our slaughtered comrades. After the charge, the whole brigade got mixed together, and was for a few minutes in great confusion, occasioned by a terrific fire of musketry and grape-shot, the murderous effects of which so disordered Halkett’s right that they gave way, and thus clashed with their left who were retiring; this caused confusion which, fortunately however, speedily ceased, for a cry was heard, “Form square to resist cavalry[64]!” and a cheer burst forth from the 73d. Major Kelly, an officer of that regiment, but on the staff, having perceived the confusion and consequent danger, resolved to remain with his men, they having no officer of rank left to command them. During this most desperate assault, D’Aubremé’s Netherlanders, who formed three large squares in the immediate rear, also fell into the greatest disorder; Vandeleur galloped forward, and with some of his own officers, and those of the Dutch-Belgians, did all in his power to restore order and encourage the men to hold their position. Colonel Morice (69th regiment) was killed,[118] and sir Colin Halkett wounded, when the command of his brigade devolved on colonel Elphinstone, who, when it had reformed, posted the left of the brigade at the hedge-row, where the road curves forward, (near where the Lion now stands;) and advanced the right anew[65] to protect the left flank of our guards against an attack of Donzelot’s troops, who were again pushing on.

The left of our guards was brought slightly forward, to be parallel with the left or second attacking column of the French guards[66], who, passing the eastern boundary of Hougoumont obliquely on their left, were saluted, en passant, by Hepburn’s skirmishers. Notwithstanding this, they pursued their onward course with the greatest sang-froid through the valley, towards the spot where their first column was so severely engaged; our artillery on the ridge, from the Nivelles road to the curve in our line, was in full play upon them; the fire of our guns fell with ruinous precision upon the dense mass, and made them suffer dreadfully: but the men who had often, in a doubtful field, wrested victory from the obstinate foe, advanced firmly, their front and flank, as usual, covered by a numerous body of daring skirmishers, the smoke of whose rattling fire concealed at times the advance of the column. The fire of our guns was so severe that some cuirassiers were sent to charge the batteries: this they did, and succeeded in driving the gunners away. They also drove in the skirmishers of Adam’s brigade: upon which, a squadron of the 23d light dragoons was sent down into the hollow near the orchard of Hougoumont. The cuirassiers advancing again, the 23d, under lieutenant Banner, charged them in flank, and drove them back upon their infantry columns, whose fire turned our dragoons about. They galloped back towards our lines, followed by some cuirassiers, most of whom, as well as their other cavalry, had, upon the advance of the Imperial guard, been drawn off and rallied on their own position[119] between La Belle-Alliance and Hougoumont. Our officers on this part of the line were intently observing the movements of the enemy’s column; and our few fine fellows at the guns, disregarding the fire from the enemy, played incessantly with deadly aim into the close deep masses of infantry: changing, as the distance diminished, from round to grape and canister, and to double charges.

As the column neared the ridge, the French became impatient under this destructive cannonade; and their skirmishers rushed forward, prolonging the attack to Donzelot’s division on their right, which, in a line of battalion columns, with their guns between them and on their flanks, and preceded by a crowd of daring skirmishers, were again assaulting the remains of Alten’s division, as above related. Our gunners, under this close and severely-telling fire, could not long stand to their guns, but either lay down beneath them, or dropped behind the ridge; an expedient to which our artillery-men had frequent recourse during the day. Some brave fellows now and then would hastily load and fire, and again seek shelter. D’Aubremé’s and Vandeleur’s brigades sustained some casualties by this column’s fire.

General Adam, and colonel Colborne of the 52d, (of the unmatched Peninsular school,) had been watching the enemy’s columns, and the latter, (a real fire-eater,) upon his own responsibility, brought forward the right shoulder of his regiment, placing it across the oft-mentioned bit of hedge-row, and nearly parallel to the left flank of the attacking column.

Thus was executed, with judgment, promptitude and spirit, worthy of the high character of the corps and its commander, a movement, which eventually enveloped the enemy’s column in an angle, at the apex of which was a battery, whose double-charged guns soon carried death and destruction through the mass, whilst a rapid and continued rolling fire of musketry assailed its front and flanks.

The Duke having seen the guards placed in their position, rode a little to the right, and observing the 52d in a favourable situation, sent to sir Henry Clinton to move forward the rest of Adam’s brigade to charge the Imperial guard, that, with drums beating and deafening shouts of Vive l’Empereur! now[120] crowned the summit of the position. The fire of Napier’s and Vandersmissen’s batteries, and of the British guards, opened on them, but still they gallantly pressed forward, as did also the columns of Donzelot, upon Alten’s division; and the rest of d’Erlon’s columns en échelons, on their right of La Haye-Sainte, moved forward towards Lambert’s, Kempt’s and Best’s brigades. The fate of the battle seemed to quiver on the beam, when the 52d in its complete four-deep line, previously screened from the enemy’s view by the crest of our ridge, moved down in the most compact order upon the left flank of the Imperial column. The column halted, formed front to its left, and opened, from its long flank, a most galling fire upon the 52d. The latter also halted, and poured a most deadly fire into their ranks: the finest infantry the world produced, thus confronted each other. At this moment (about eight o’clock,) the 2d battalion of the 95th rifles came up on the left, and fired into the head of the column[67]. The 71st and the 3d battalion of the 95th were also rapidly advancing. This terrific fire told with most awful effect on the flank of the mass, already torn by the close discharges of case and grape-shot from our guns. From whose rapid fire, together with the musketry, a dense cloud of thick smoke hung on the ridge, and completely enveloped the contending parties. A still more rapid roll of musketry marked the highest efforts of the conflict, when on a sudden it began to slacken. Sir John Colborne gave the word to charge, which our men answered by three hearty cheers and louder than the shouts of Vive l’Empereur[68]. The French column now seemed to reel to[121] and fro under the heavy fire, and in truth it was unable to advance and unwilling to retire. It was in a position too trying even for its experienced veterans, notwithstanding they were animated by the best spirit. But the most daring in its ranks, and there were many, made a determined resistance, and seemed to linger on the spot; one of these, no doubt, was Ney, who, upon the rout of the first column, joined the second and led that also[69].

The confusion and disorder which had been increasing, at last became uncontrollable. With the exception of the two rear battalions of the old guard, under general Cambronne, which alone retained the least semblance of order, the second attacking column of the Imperial guard shared the fate of the first. They fled, and in their flight carried with them most of Donzelot’s columns, which had prolonged the attack to the Genappe road against Alten’s division, as previously mentioned, and were now falling back into the valley, from whence they had emerged to make the attack. Whilst the 52d and the second battalion of the 95th were pressing forward in pursuit, over ground literally covered with dead and dying, a body of broken horsemen dashed through the smoke upon their front: they concentrated their whole fire upon the new comers, until they discovered them to be a part of the 23d light dragoons pursued by some cuirassiers; one of whom breaking through the 52d was killed in the rear by the sergeant-major; another was also cut down by an officer.

The front was scarcely cleared of the cavalry, when three of the enemy’s guns opened a fire of grape, at about four hundred yards in prolongation of its right flank: colonel Colborne galloped to the right of his regiment, and exclaimed “Those guns will destroy us!” when instantly the right section, under lieutenant Gawler, wheeled up and drove them off.[122] The rest of the regiment continued the pursuit of the broken columns.

Colonel Hugh Halkett, on perceiving the forward movement of Adam’s brigade, moved upon its right rear with the Osnabruck militia. Vivian’s hussar brigade and the 2d German light dragoons were immediately advanced to attack the French reserves, drawn up between La Belle-Alliance and Hougoumont[70].

The feelings of our great antagonist on witnessing the total overthrow of his devoted guards, his last hope, and the death-blow to his political existence, may be imagined, but not described.

At this time, (eight o’clock,) says captain Siborne, the general disposition of the Prussian forces, relative to that of Wellington’s army, was, that the advance-guard of Zieten’s (first) corps had joined our left; part of Pirch’s (second) corps, with his reserve cavalry, had joined Bulow, who was on the advance, his right to attack Lobau, and his left to make a third attack upon Plancenoit. The French opposed to them appeared determined to make a stand at all points.

[123]

The enemy’s troops engaged in the last attack retired in the greatest confusion, which caused an unsteadiness and panic throughout the remainder of the French army. By this, the Prussians were relieved from the determined pressure previously made on them by the French right en potence; and it soon became evident that they were gaining ground. Zieten’s (first) corps had just joined the left of our line by Ohain; Adam’s brigade was most vigorously pursuing the fugitives, and Vivian’s hussars were rapidly advancing on the enemy’s reserve: all these things combined, convinced the Duke that[124] the favourable moment for making a general attack, was arrived. Closing his telescope with an air of triumph, he ordered the advance of the whole line. This order was received by the eager remains of the army with loud and tremendous cheers.

The Duke stood on the rise (immediately in front of the Lion,) with his hat raised in the air, as a signal to advance. The last parting rays of the beautiful setting sun at this moment (a quarter after eight,) shone most resplendently, as if to enliven the scene presented to our view on emerging from the smoke, which had long rendered every object invisible except the flashes of the enemy’s batteries. It was a spectacle never to be forgotten by those who witnessed it. Were I to live to the age of Methuselah, never shall I forget that evening. In front might be seen the retiring columns of the enemy, broken and mingled with crowds of fugitives of all arms, mounted and dismounted, mixed pell-mell together. In the right front was a dense smoke, curling upwards, from the smouldering ruins of Hougoumont. Far in the distance to the left front might also be dimly seen the dark columns of the Prussians, many of whom had arrived just in time to witness the overthrow of the French.

During this time Vivian’s hussars had moved to the right, cleared the front and advanced on the right of Maitland’s guards, who with Vandeleur’s brigade cheered them on. On crossing the ridge the smoke was thick, but in the valley it became clear; and several columns of the enemy’s infantry and cavalry, with guns on their flanks and between them, were visible in front. The Duke sent a message to Vivian by colonel Campbell, not to attack till the infantry arrived, unless he thought he could break the French squares. At this[125] moment several men and horses of the 10th were killed by grape from the enemy’s guns. Vivian observed to sir Colin Campbell that, as our infantry advancing might not be in good order, it would be dangerous to allow the French cavalry to fall upon them, and that it would be better for him to attack at once and drive the cavalry off[71], leaving the enemy’s squares to be attacked by our infantry. To this sir Colin agreed, and returned to the Duke. Vivian now formed the 10th and 18th hussars into one line, and the 1st German hussars in second line. While forming, a broken body of the 23d light dragoons, after being fired into by the 52d, galloped along his front; his right was attacked by cuirassiers, and he lost many men, but he beat off the enemy. Whilst the French were firing grape at the hussars, our own guns were also plying them with shot and spherical case, our gunners taking them for foes. Vivian sent an officer to correct the error.

The 10th hussars, on getting into line, charged and defeated the cavalry in their front. The 2d Germans charged upon the right of the 10th. Vivian now rode to the 18th, who were near the two squares of the old guard which had been left in reserve; they had cavalry and guns on each flank and between them.

The 18th was in line, and as steady as if exercising on Hounslow heath. On reaching its front, Vivian said, “Eighteenth, you will follow me;” on which the sergeant-major (Jeffs,) afterwards adjutant of the 7th hussars, and many of the men, coarsely but fiercely exclaimed with an oath, “Ay, general, anywhere you choose to lead us.” The charge was ordered, and in an instant an attack was made on the cavalry[126] and guns. Colonel Murray, commanding the 18th, in making this charge, leaped his horse over the traces between the wheelers and leaders of a French gun which was dashing across his front in order to escape. The hussars were upon the artillery, slaughtering the drivers and gunners and securing the guns: these destructive engines being silenced, and the sting taken out of their cavalry, our infantry had full scope to act.

In returning from this charge, Vivian found major Howard, with a small body of the 10th, near a French square, from whose fire he was rapidly losing his men. At this moment a fine and gallant soldier, lieutenant Gunning, fell. Vivian observed to Howard, “We have one of two things to do, either to retire a little out of the fire, or to attack;” and seeing some red-coated infantry approaching, who threw out a scattering fire upon the enemy’s square, almost as destructive to friends as to foes, Vivian ordered the charge and accompanied it. The men galloped up to the bayonets of the Imperial guard, and a fierce and bloody conflict ensued. Major Howard was shot by a musket-ball, and fell upon the enemy’s bayonets;

The red-coated infantry were colonel Halkett’s Osnabruckers, who shortly before had captured general Cambronne of the Imperial guard[73], and a battery. Adam’s brigade had[127] followed the broken columns of the French guards and Donzelot’s into the valley in advance of the orchard of La Haye-Sainte; but now there was something of more importance on the right of the Genappe road that required their attention; this was three squares of the enemy flanked on their right by cuirassiers: they were the remains of the first attacking column of the Imperial guard, who had been rallied by Napoleon and posted here to cover the retreat. The Duke galloped into the valley to Adam’s brigade, and ordered Sir John Colborne to attack the rallied force of the Imperial guard, saying, “They won’t stand. Go on, Colborne, go on.”

Lord Uxbridge, after having displayed the most brilliant acts of heroism during this sanguinary and arduous day, was about to join Vivian’s hussars, when a grape-shot wounded his right leg, which rendered amputation necessary: the command of the allied cavalry consequently devolved on general Vandeleur, and that of his brigade on colonel Sleigh, (11th light dragoons).

Adam’s brigade pressed gallantly up the slope towards the three squares and the cuirassiers; the former opened a heavy fire from both front and flanks. The Duke was still in rear of the 52d. Sir Colin Campbell, finding the shot fly thick about the Duke, said, “Your Grace, this is no place for you; I wish you would move a little;” to which the Duke replied “So I will, when those fellows are driven off.”

As our line approached, the French squares went about by command; the Duke then galloped forward on the right of Adam’s brigade, which was now about to cross the Genappe road. The cuirassiers accompanying the squares came down the road in a menacing attitude, as if to charge; but as no time was to be lost, the brigade lowered their bayonets, and[128] in their four-deep line pressed on; but the cuirassiers declined the combat.

An incident occurred just at this time, relative to the Duke, which deserves to be noticed, as showing the great watchfulness which he at all times exercised.

Adam, who was now in the valley between the two ridges of the French position, and on the allied left of the Genappe road near La Belle-Alliance, not being able to see at any distance to his right, nor aware of Vivian’s advance, was apprehensive that an attack might possibly be made upon his right flank, which by his movement had become exposed: he therefore desired his brigade-major to proceed, and ascertain whether there were any danger. In performing this duty, the major fell in with the Duke, who was riding at a smart pace, followed by only one individual, whom major Blair addressed but he was immediately interrupted by the remark, “Monsieur, je ne parle pas un seul mot d’anglais.” (“Sir, I cannot speak a word of English.”) The major then stated to him in French the object he was pursuing; and was answered, “Le Duc lui-même a été voir, il n’y a rien à craindre.” (“The Duke has, himself, been to see, there is nothing to fear.”) Upon this the major hastened back with the satisfactory communication.

About a hundred yards on the allied left of La Belle-Alliance, the road running towards Plancenoit becomes a complete hollow-way, out of which a broken column of French infantry was in the act of debouching with some guns, and making a hasty retreat, when the 52d regiment in its advance came right upon them. The infantry tried to escape, and at the same time to defend themselves as best they could. The artillery turned to their left and attempted to get up the bank, but their horses were immediately shot down by the 52d. A young officer of the battery surrendered; but the commander, a veteran who wore upon his breast the decoration of the Legion of honour, stood, sword in hand, in the midst of his guns, and in an attitude of bold defiance. A soldier started from the 52d ranks and made a thrust at him, which the officer parried; a scuffle ensued, the man closed with him, threw him on the ground, and keeping him down with his foot, reversed[129] his musket to bayonet him. The repugnance to the shedding of human blood unnecessarily[74], (a feeling which we may proudly claim as belonging to British soldiers,) burst forth in a groan of displeasure from his comrades. It came too late; the fatal thrust had passed, and the life of the deserving member of the honoured Legion was extinct. The battery and many prisoners were captured. The brigade, pressing on in pursuit of the squares, got upon the highest point of ground of the French position, and in the line of fire from the Prussian batteries[75]: the Duke sent to Bulow to stop the fire. The 71st, on the right, captured a battery, and one of the guns, being loaded, was turned round and fired into the retreating foe by captain Campbell of the 71st, aide-de-camp to general Adam. It is supposed that this was the last French gun, fired on that memorable day. Soon after, the squares, followed by Adam, halted near the farm of Rossomme, threw away their knapsacks and accoutrements, the better to expedite their flight, and being thus lightened, they disappeared in the twilight.

About the time that Howard was killed, Vandeleur’s brigade was spanking along under the east hedge of Hougoumont; and overtaking some of the flying enemy between the Hougoumont enclosures and Rossomme, they made some charges and captured a great number of the enemy.

As soon as a part of Zieten’s corps had joined our left, Blücher ordered the battery to open fire, the infantry to descend into the valley of Smohain, and in conjunction with the troops of Nassau to attack the French, who had been reinforced in order to prevent a junction between Bulow’s corps and the allied left.

Zieten’s advance infantry pushed down into the valley,[130] where some shots were exchanged by mistake between them and the Nassau troops: the mistake was soon rectified, and both bodies united advanced, and dislodged the French from the houses in the valley of Smohain, and the farms of La Haye and Papelotte. It was about eight o’clock, when Zieten’s advance cavalry drew up on our left, and an infantry brigade and the reserve cavalry of general Pirch’s (second) corps joined Bulow, and in conjunction made the following dispositions for the third attack upon Plancenoit:

General Ryssel’s and colonel Hiller’s infantry brigades of the 4th corps under general count Bulow, and general Tippelskircher’s brigade of general Pirch’s (second) corps, formed in columns of battalions; on the left was a regiment of prince William’s reserve, and two battalions of infantry with their skirmishers in front; and three cavalry regiments, part of prince William’s, were in rear of the above brigades.

In rear of this cavalry was general Krafft’s infantry brigade of the 2d corps in reserve; and on the right of the infantry brigades were three lines of cavalry, under general Jurgass; and upon their right, and advancing simultaneously with the attack upon Plancenoit, were Hack’s and Losthin’s infantry brigades of the 4th corps; in their rear were three battalions, part of Hack’s brigade. On the right of those brigades was a small force of cavalry, part of prince William’s, and upon their right were four battalion columns, part of general Steinmetz’s brigade of general Zieten’s (first) corps. Upon the ridge on the allied left, was part of general Röder’s cavalry that had just reached the field, and whose battery opened fire in place of one belonging to the allies that had expended all its ammunition. A few battalions were detached to the left of Plancenoit, to secure the flank, and, if possible, to turn the enemy’s right. The whole Prussian force was preceded by skirmishers, and their batteries were most advantageously placed upon the heights.

A squadron of Prussian cavalry beat back a company of the Imperial guard from the farm of Chantilly, above Plancenoit. The latter retired upon the wood at the farm of Caillou, closely pursued by the hostile cavalry, which was beaten off by the Imperial baggage guard. The Prussian dragoons[131] soon returned in such force, that the Emperor’s suite, with bag and baggage, made a hasty flight towards Genappe.

Whilst Blücher’s army stood as stated, Wellington had defeated both the attacking columns of the Imperial guard; and Adam’s brigade was driving them and Donzelot’s division, that had broken and mixed with them, across the field, toward the Genappe high-road. Vivian’s brigade and the 2d German light dragoons were setting forward at a long trot towards the French reserves, drawn up between La Belle-Alliance and Hougoumont.

The whole allied line was now advancing, flanked on the left by Prussian cavalry. The enemy showed little resistance to any part of it. As Hepburn issued from the orchard of Hougoumont into the open fields, the enemy went off, scarcely firing a single shot. Those in the wood made a little resistance, until they saw that all their army was in full flight. The cavalry on the French left went off in order, skirmishers out covering their retreat. Bachelu’s and Foy’s divisions moved off, on witnessing the defeat of the second column of the Imperial guard: on seeing this, the troops holding La Haye-Sainte abandoned it. Alix’s, occupying the sand-pit and knoll, gave way on the advance of Lambert; and Marcognet yielded and broke before the advance of Pack and Kempt. Durutte’s division broke before Zieten’s and the duke of Saxe-Weimar’s advance. De Lobau, on seeing the troops on his left giving way, together with the flight of the Imperial guard, followed by British troops whom he perceived in his rear, as well as the now vigorous attack of Bulow, and the probability of his being cut off from all retreat with his whole corps, rushed into the stream of fugitives, that had set in towards Rossomme and Genappe.

During this time Plancenoit had been the scene of a most dreadful struggle: the French in the churchyard held out, and the Prussians, finding it of no avail to continue the attack in front, turned the village on both flanks, driving the Imperial guard before them; the latter, finding that they should be cut off from all retreat, fell into disorder, and mixed with the general mass of fugitives, who were flying in all directions towards Rossomme and La Maison-du-Roi, followed[132] by the Prussians, who made a dash at the eagle of the Imperial guard. General Pelet called out, “A moi, chasseurs! sauvons l’aigle, ou mourons autour d’elle!” (“Rally round me, chasseurs! let us save the eagle, or die protecting it!”) Upon this they formed square, and saved the eagle and the honour of the regiment[76].

About nine o’clock, Napoleon threw himself, with a few of his staff, into a square of the 2d chasseurs of the old guard, that had been under Cambronne; but upon the approach of our cavalry he galloped away. Wellington, with our advance brigades, reached the farm of Rossomme, between which and La Belle-Alliance some Prussian cavalry and our 18th exchanged blows, and some lives were lost. The 11th light dragoons and 1st German hussars were also nearly coming in contact with each other, owing to the dimness of the twilight.

An arrangement had been previously made by Wellington and Blücher, that the allied army should halt here, and that the Prussians should pursue and harass the routed enemy. The Duke was now, with all his advance, a little beyond Rossomme, upon a particular knoll with a gap where the Charleroi road cuts through it, which can be distinctly seen from most parts of the right of the allied position.

As the Prussians passed us, (for I had the honour and good fortune to be an actor in this scene,) I heard their bands play, “God save the King!” which soul-stirring compliment we returned by hearty cheers. In the pursuit of the enemy from Rossomme to Genappe, the Prussian lance and sabre were busy in the work of death. Many a brave soldier, that had escaped the bloody field, fell that night beneath the deadly steel. In vain did the French make a feeble effort to check the Prussians at Genappe, by barricading its long and narrow street with their remaining guns and tumbrels. So entirely had their defeat destroyed their discipline, that the Prussians, by the first sound of the trumpet, beat of drum, or[133] their wild hurrah, overcame every obstacle, and, pressing on, they captured sixty pieces of cannon.

The Duke, after clearing the high-road and its left of the allied troops, in order to give full scope to the advancing Prussians, to whom he relinquished the further pursuit of the flying enemy, remained for some time with his advanced troops on the right of Rossomme in conversation with general Vivian, colonel Colborne and others; after which, promising to send the provisions up, his Grace turned his horse round and rode away. On returning leisurely towards Waterloo, about ten o’clock, at a short distance before reaching La Belle-Alliance, he, aided by a clouded moon, descried a group of mounted officers making towards the Genappe high-road from the direction of Frischermont; the Duke turned off to meet them: it proved to be Blücher and his staff; they most heartily congratulated each other on the glorious result of the contest in which they had been so intensely engaged. The conference lasted about ten minutes, when the veteran Blücher, promising to leave his inveterate foe no rallying time on this side of the frontier, shook hands with his Grace and proceeded to Genappe, sending forward to general Gneisenau, who led his advance-guard, orders to press and harass the enemy, and not suffer the grass to grow under their feet, or even allow them to take breath. Bulow’s corps, which led the pursuit, was supported by Zieten’s. Pirch’s corps received orders to turn round and strike across the country, and, if possible, to cut off marshal Grouchy’s retreat.

Our gallant chief returned over the field to Waterloo, and before reaching La Haye-Sainte was obliged to quit the high-road, on account of its being completely blocked up with guns and tumbrels, many of which were upset and lying topsy turvy; whilst the frequent snort and start of the horses told but too clearly that the ground they trod was studded and strewed with the slain. His Grace, on regaining the high-road, was so affected by the cries of the wounded and moans of the dying, as to shed tears, and on his way did not exchange a word with any of his suite, composed only of five persons, one of whom, the late sir Colin Campbell, was armed with a cuirassier’s sword. The Duke was sombre and dejected, as well he might be: grim[134] Death had been busy, and had had a regular gala-day amongst his Grace’s old and well-tried friends, who had followed him in distant climes, and through many an arduous and hard-fought field. The Duke, on this occasion, might have exclaimed with Pyrrhus, “Such another victory, and we are undone!” We may readily believe, that in writing the next day to the duke of Beaufort and the earl of Aberdeen, his Grace only yielded to the genuine dictates of his heart, when he expressed in these, as well as other letters, “The losses I have sustained, have quite broken me down; and I have no feeling for the advantages we have acquired[77].”

Napoleon, after quitting the square, which was about midway between La Belle-Alliance and the farm of Rossomme, rode on our right of the road for some distance, escorted by the gallant remains of the horse-grenadiers of the guard, the only force in the whole French army that now retained the least semblance of order. But finding the ground very heavy, he crossed the road at La Maison-du-Roi, and rode along a cross-road which was also in a very bad state: he then made for the high-road again, passed Genappe, and arrived at Quatre-Bras about eleven o’clock; thence he proceeded to Charleroi.

The remains of the allied army bivacked on what had been the French position. The 52d, 71st, and 2d and 3d battalions of the 95th, halted on the ground that had been occupied by the Imperial guard in reserve, near the farm of Rossomme. The remains of my regiment, with Vivian’s brigade, went to the vicinity of the farm of Hulencourt: I accompanied general Vivian and colonel sir E. Kerrison to the farm, acting as orderly, and still mounted on the cuirassier’s horse.

Thus closed upon us the glorious 18th of June. Fatigue and extreme exhaustion, following such exertions and such excitement as had been our lot that day, left us little power to reflect either upon the completeness of our own triumph, or the extent of the disasters that overtook the remains of our vanquished foes. These fled in utter and hopeless disorder[135] before the Prussians, who dashed into the pursuit, and continued the work of slaughter with a ferocious and avenging spirit, which the conduct of the French two days before had provoked.

Had however the enemy’s cavalry been husbanded, the headlong rush of the victors might have been sufficiently checked, to have allowed the French army to retreat in something like order. But the wreck of that fine army fled, or rather was driven from the long-disputed field, in the wildest disorder and confusion.

More important or decisive events than those which so quickly succeeded each other from the 15th to the 18th of June, never before graced the pages of history. Never did the events of a few days produce such important consequences.

We, the conquerors of Waterloo, and many of us certainly never expected so glorious a termination to the battle, were glad to lie down among the dead and dying, and snatch a few hours of necessary repose:

The battle might be described as having been a succession of assaults, sustained with unabated fury, and often with a boldness and effect that much perplexed our troops and put their firmness to the test. Every renewed attack diminished our numbers, and still the survivors yielded not an inch of ground, and, even without orders, made good the gaps. No other troops in the world would have endured, for so long a period, so terrible a struggle. Our Imperial antagonist admitted that we went through and stood to our work, unlike any troops he had ever seen before and the fact is well authenticated, that Napoleon repeatedly complimented us on our incomparable steadiness and forbearance. But this is not to be wondered at, when our chief, he who had so often directed our energy, affirmed that he had “never seen the British infantry behave so well.” Our glorious contest had been maintained against the most renowned legions of Europe, who[136] had never before shown such uninterrupted audacity and intrepidity. They were led by generals of undoubted skill and gallantry, who with their brave troops had won laurels in many a hard-fought battle, and who believed themselves to be, what their ambitious chief had so often declared, invincible, and as such they were still regarded by most of the continental nations. At Waterloo we had to contend against soldiers of undaunted spirit, full of enthusiasm and careless of life. Never did these heroic men, grown grey in victories, better sustain their reputation than on this occasion. The French are a brave people, and no troops in the world surpass, if any equal them, for impetuosity of attack; but many men will stand fire and face distant danger, and yet shrink from the struggle when closing in desperate grasp with an enemy. It is not bravery alone which decides the battle, calmness is often absolutely necessary, and in this, the most valiant are at times found wanting. Never did a battle require more cool and determined courage than that of Waterloo. Nothing can be more trying to troops than passive endurance of offence; nothing so intolerable as to be incessantly assailed, and not permitted in turn to become assailants. A desperate struggle in a well-contested battle field, differs greatly from acting on the defensive, from holding a position, or from being attacked and not allowed to return the aggression of an enemy. There is an excited feeling when assailing, which stimulates even the weak-hearted, and drowns the thought of danger. The tumultuous enthusiasm of the assault spreads from man to man, and timid spirits catch a gallant frenzy from the brave.

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On our awaking next morning, each of us must have experienced something like astonishment, not unmingled, I hope, with feelings of gratitude, that amidst such carnage as he had witnessed, his life and strength were still spared, to fight again, if need should be, the battles of his country. We knew we had beaten the French, and that too, completely; for our last charge had succeeded at every point. But they were not defeated because they were deficient either in bravery or discipline. Their bearing throughout the day was that of gallant soldiers: their attacks were conducted with a chivalric impetuosity and admirably sustained vigour, which left no shadow of doubt upon our minds of their entire devotedness to the cause of Napoleon, of their expectation of victory, and the determination of many of them not to survive defeat. The best and bravest of them fell; but not till they had inflicted almost equal loss upon their conquerors. To deny them the tribute of respect and admiration which their bravery and misfortunes claim, would tarnish the lustre of our martial glory. The British soldier is content with victory: he abhors insult and cruelty; he has a pleasure in being just and generous[138] to a fallen foe. That the French in their flight from Waterloo were unnecessarily butchered during many hours by the exasperated Prussians, is a fact, which I can more easily explain than justify.

The field of battle, after the victory, presented a frightful and most distressing spectacle. It appeared as if the whole military world had been collected together, and that something beyond human strength and ingenuity had been employed to cause its destruction. Solicitude for the wounded prompted the Duke to ride back to Brussels immediately after the sanguinary contest. The assistance of the town authorities was requested, in collecting and removing the wounded from the field, burying the dead, etc., as well as to restore confidence amongst the population, and allay the extreme excitement which prevailed throughout Belgium. Right nobly did the inhabitants of Brussels respond to his appeal. The clergy, as might have been expected, were foremost in their exertions to relieve the dreadful agonies of so many gallant and innocent sufferers: the highest in rank rivalled the hardier classes in performing the most trying offices for the mangled heroes that filled the hospitals, and encumbered even many private dwellings. Ladies, of the honoured names of Mérode and Robiano set an illustrious example, by their presence on the field the morning after the battle; the scene of carnage, so revolting to their delicate and tender nature, stimulating, instead of preventing, their humane exertions. Many other ladies, like ministering angels, shared in this work of mercy to the wounded, of whatever nation they might be, or in whatever cause they had fallen[78].

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The allied army proceeded on the 19th to Nivelles, (a most wonderful military exploit after such a desperate battle,) where it was joined by the detached force under prince Frederick and general sir Charles Colville. His Grace overtook us on the 21st, on which day we entered France. On the day previous to the allied army entering the country, the Duke issued the following

The Duke’s head-quarters on the 21st were at Malplaquet, the scene of one of the great Marlborough’s victories, in 1709. He immediately issued a proclamation to the French people, which exemplifies the wisdom, firmness and moderation that ever marked the career of our illustrious commander. He worthily represented a brave, victorious, but humane people, the inhabitants of the British empire.

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Whilst the Duke was addressing this language to the French people, the fallen usurper, having awakened from his short dream of empire and spoliation, made a last but fruitless effort to continue to delude his discomfited partisans. On the very same day that Wellington’s proclamation went forth from Malplaquet, Napoleon issued the following declaration:

This production neither aroused the French to make fresh sacrifices for his sake, nor stayed the victorious march of the allies upon Paris.

On the 24th of June we took Cambray, which was given up on the following day to Louis XVIII. This was the last occasion on which I saw a shot fired in a hostile manner.

Our first brigade of guards took Péronne on the 26th. The Duke on this occasion had a narrow escape. After directing his staff to get under shelter in the ditch of an outwork, he posted himself in a sally-port of the glacis. A staff officer, having a communication to make to his Grace, came suddenly upon him and drew the attention of the enemy, who treacherously discharged a howitzer loaded with grape at the point; it shattered the wall against which the Duke was standing, and made (to use the words of one who saw him immediately afterwards,) “his blue coat completely red.”

Meanwhile Grouchy, who was at Wavre, having heard of the utter failure of his Imperial master at Waterloo, commenced[142] a retreat on Paris, vigorously followed by the two Prussian corps under Thielmann and Pirch. During this retreat, Grouchy displayed more skill, energy and decision, than in his pursuit of the Prussians, on the 17th and 18th.

The Prussians, who were on our left, had several sharp engagements with the enemy during their advance upon Paris; and both armies reached the environs of the capital on the 1st of July. Hostilities ceased, and a military convention was signed in the evening of the 3d. On the morning of this day Zieten’s corps had a sharp action, in which they were victors, at Issy near Paris.

The campaign thus, by a singular coincidence, was brought to a close by the same troops that opened it. The allied and Prussian armies entered Paris on the 7th of July, and were followed next day by Louis XVIII. Before the end of the month, the armies of Europe congregated in and round Paris, amounted nearly to the enormous number of a million of men in arms.

Napoleon, in the mean time, had left the capital. The Emperor surrendered at sea, on the 15th of July[80], to captain Maitland, of the Bellerophon. By a decree of the allied powers, he was sent to St.-Helena, where he died May 5th, 1821.

Since these events, more than thirty years have passed over us; and peace between the two greatest nations of the globe, England and France, has been uninterruptedly maintained. Long may it continue, to the honour of those whose blood and valour purchased it, and to the lasting happiness of the civilized world! It was the prospect of securing this immense benefit to mankind that united all European nations against the ambition of Napoleon, and that afforded the best comfort under the distressing sacrifices made to ensure his overthrow. Perhaps no people benefitted by his fall so much as the French themselves: his triumphs (often great in a military point of view,) left nothing in their hands, whilst they filled every family in France with mourning. The conscription was a[143] more searching tyranny than civilized men had ever before endured; and all this blood flowed in vain. Our Gallic neighbours have sometimes mistaken the tone of triumph in which we speak of the downfall of Napoleon, and have regarded it as insulting to them: nothing is farther from the mind and heart of the British soldier, who is always ready to acknowledge their military excellence.

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The dispatch of the duke of Wellington, written immediately after the battle, cannot fail to interest every one. It is a document which has fixed the attention of statesmen and soldiers, not more on account of the importance of the event it describes, than for the noble simplicity, perfect calmness and exemplary modesty which characterize the great man who penned it: it stands in honourable contrast with the hurried, inflated, untrue accounts of military achievements not unfrequently given by commanders of no small renown.

(London Gazette extraordinary.)

To Earl Bathurst.

To Earl Bathurst.

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The French loss has been computed at nearly fifty thousand men during the campaign.

Of the French generals, De Lobau (Mouton), Compans, Duhesme and Cambronne were made prisoners; and Girard, Devaux, Letort, Penne, Michel, Aix and Baudouin killed.

Perhaps we cannot arrive at a more accurate notion of the loss of the enemy than that conveyed by Ney, in his speech in the Chamber of Peers, four days after the battle, to which the reader’s notice is drawn (page 207): “Not a man of the guard will ever rally more. I myself witnessed their total extermination: they are annihilated.” And everybody knows that Napoleon always husbanded the guard, at the cost of all his other troops. “Their total extermination” implies then that the whole army was utterly routed.

The slaughter, in the absence of official reports, must be left to be computed by the sober judgment of the reader.

The French force detached under Grouchy to observe the Prussians amounted to thirty-two thousand men, and a hundred and four guns.

POSITIONS OF THE ALLIED ARTILLERY TOWARDS THE CLOSE OF THE BATTLE.

On the right, close to the Nivelles road, the Brunswick guns. Stretching towards the left, major Bull’s (howitzers), captain N. Ramsey’s, major Webber Smith’s, captain Mercer’s, major Symper’s (German), captain Sandham’s, major Beane’s batteries; and captain Bolton’s, at the angle between Adam’s left and Maitland’s right. Captain Sinclair’s battery. Major Vandersmissen’s batteries, at the interval between Halkett’s brigade. Major Lloyd’s, major sir H. Ross’s batteries. Major sir R. Gardner’s battery, advancing. Major Whinyate’s (rocket), major Braun’s (German), major Rogers’ batteries. A Dutch-Belgian battery. Major Rettberg’s (German), just relieved by a Prussian battery. A Dutch-Belgian battery. Major Kuhlman’s and captain Cleeve’s (German) batteries, advancing on the high-road, after refitting. Five Dutch-Belgian guns near Ditmers’ brigade.

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ARTILLERY TAKEN BY THE ALLIED ARMY AT WATERLOO.

Exclusive of those taken by the Prussians, on the field and in the pursuit.

Our readers will give us credit for having observed a strict impartiality throughout our narrative of the battle; and in the same spirit would we desire to discuss those questions relating to it, which have given rise to so many false and exaggerated statements.

The first subject of controversy we shall notice, is the strange, but oft repeated charge, against Wellington’s military judgment, in choosing his position in front of Mont-St.-Jean, with a forest in his rear, in case of defeat. I must be excused if I show some little indignation at the repetition of this charge; a British soldier must be allowed to be as jealous of the fame of his illustrious commander, as our gallant opponents were of that of their idolized Napoleon. Well, what is the charge? That the Waterloo position was not well chosen for a retreat, having defiles and a wood in its rear.

We begin our examination of this point by remarking that Wellington chose the position, not in a hurry, nor because he was forced to do so, but most deliberately, and after having[168] thoroughly reconnoitred it. He chose it with the conviction that he could well maintain it until the Prussians could form a junction with him; this accomplished, he knew that the French would not have a single chance left. He had but one apprehension; namely, that the enemy would push on by Hal, and turn the allied right. But Napoleon’s holding us too cheap, his impetuosity, or his desperation, brought him headlong upon our chosen position: the very best for our purposes between Charleroi and Brussels. Let the event assist the impartial reader in deciding which commander showed the better judgment in selecting his ground for action. But as far as the Duke is concerned, it is quite unnecessary to say anything in his defence. Nor should we have attempted to give a description of the Waterloo position, but for the judgment of Napoleon, at least as coming to us through the generals de Montholon, Gourgaud, de Las-Cases, Mr. O’Meara, etc., being so directly at variance with that practicality shown by the duke of Wellington, who, we supposed, had previously both taken up and successfully defended too many positions, not to know the local requisites of a good one, and particularly as opposed to a French army. Waterloo was not fixed upon at the spur of the moment, as I have elsewhere shown; in addition to which, the Duke, his staff, and most of our generals were so often over the ground before the battle, that the farmers complained of the damage done thereby to their crops. It may be well to observe, for the information of those who are unacquainted with the position and localities, that the main-road from the field of Waterloo to Brussels is a very wide and well paved one. The road to the capital by Braine-l’Alleud and Alsemberg is also paved[82]. Several cross-roads, in rear of our position, likewise traverse the forest of Soigne, and communicate with the high-road between this and Brussels. The trees of the forest, and the hedges, banks, and buildings on the sides of the roads, would have afforded excellent protection to light troops covering a retreat, and have materially aided to keep the pursuing enemy at bay. Close[169] in rear of the allied army and along the verge of the wood, was a most advantageous ridge, which might have offered an excellent second position, and from whence the guns could command everything within their range. The forest of Soigne itself, composed of lofty trees, afforded a shelter which resolute men could not be easily driven from: being nearly free from underwood, it was everywhere passable for broken infantry and cavalry, and from which no earthly force could have dislodged us, unless we willed it. When the duke of Wellington, some years after the battle, was asked what he would have done, had he been driven from his position at Waterloo, his Grace replied, “I should have gone into the wood.” The impartial opinion of the celebrated and able military writer Jomini may with propriety be here cited:

“We have said that one of the essentials in a position is, that it should offer the means of retreat; which brings us to the consideration of a question created by the battle of Waterloo. Supposing an army to be posted in front of a forest, having a good road behind its centre and each of its wings; would it be compromised, as Napoleon asserts, in the event of its losing the battle? For my own part, I think, on the contrary, that such a position would be more favourable for retreating, than if the country were perfectly open; since a beaten army cannot traverse a plain without being exposed to the utmost danger. Doubtless, if the retreat should degenerate into a disorderly flight, a portion of the guns remaining in battery in front of the forest would probably be lost; but the infantry, the cavalry, and the rest of the artillery, would be able to retire with as much facility as across a plain. But if, on the contrary, the retreat takes place with order, nothing can possibly protect it better than a forest: provided always, there exist at least two good roads behind the lines; that the enemy be not allowed to press too close, before the requisite measures preparatory to retiring are thought of; and that no lateral movement shall enable the enemy to anticipate the army at the outlets from the forest, as happened at Hohenlinden. It would also greatly tend to secure the retreat, if, as was the case at Waterloo, the forest should form a concave line behind the centre; for such a bend would then become a regular place[170] d’armes, in which to collect the troops and afford time to file them successively into the high-road[83]”.

General Jomini’s doctrine, with the grounds on which it clearly rests, will have more weight with the honest reader, (be he a military man or a civilian, Frenchman or an Englishman,) than the fond opinions of Napoleon’s admirers.

Let us now turn to the Duke of Wellington’s plans and expectations, and we shall have ample evidence of his quick perception, consummate skill and unrivalled judgment.

The Duke was at Vienna at the moment the news reached him of Bonaparte’s escape from Elba, and of his landing in France. The following letter records the first impressions made by this event in the Austrian capital, and the full conviction which Wellington immediately felt, that the enemy of Europe’s peace would be speedily overthrown.

To Viscount Castlereagh, K. G.

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The Duke, though strongly urged by the allied sovereigns of Austria, Prussia and Russia to start for the Netherlands, remained in Vienna until he had completed his duties at the Congress, and received orders from England to take the command of the troops assembling in the Low-Countries. He arrived at Brussels early in April. In less than twenty-four hours, he was master of the state of things, and immediately wrote the following dispatch

To General Kleist.

Our readers will remark in this letter the Duke’s prompt decision on the importance of an immediate junction of a large Prussian force with the British allied army, and of protecting Brussels at all hazards. We shall see how much stress Napoleon laid upon keeping the British and the Prussians apart, and upon making a dash at Brussels. These two great commanders then took the same view: but the Duke’s vigilance and energy baffled all Napoleon’s exertions against the English allied army and the city of Brussels: the Prussians would have suffered less at Ligny, if the Duke’s earnest entreaty for the earliest possible junction of the allies had been duly appreciated. Wellington also correctly anticipated, from the first moment, that Charleroi and its vicinity would probably be the point selected by Napoleon for his irruption into the Netherlands.

It seems from a letter dated 15th of April 1815, of the Duke[174] to Gneisenau, that he had ascertained that two corps of the enemy, composed of 45,000 infantry and 7,200 cavalry, were in his front between the Sambre and the sea: he immediately set off to reconnoitre the whole frontier: this occupied him four days.

By reference to the “SECRET MEMORANDUM” in the Appendix, No. 1, it may be seen how prompt, energetic and comprehensive were the measures resolved upon by the duke of Wellington. As early as the 30th of April, he wrote to lord Uxbridge, “All the dispositions are so made that the whole army can be collected in one short movement, with the Prussians on our left.”

One of Wellington’s difficulties in preparing for the contest, was the motley character of some of the foreign troops placed, or offered to be placed, under his command. Some Saxon troops in particular drew from him very severe, but characteristic strictures and contempt, as appears from the subjoined documents:

To the Earl of Clancarty, G. C. B.

To Prince Hardenberg.

Writing to sir Henry Hardinge, two days afterwards, the Duke observes that:

“The Saxon troops, it is very obvious, will be of no use to anybody during the war; and our object must be to prevent them from doing mischief.... I do not think fourteen thousand men will have much weight in deciding the fate of the war. But the most fatal of all measures will be to have fourteen thousand men in the field who cannot be trusted; and who will require nearly as many more good troops to observe them.”

These Saxon mutineers were, at the suggestion of the Duke, immediately sent off as prisoners, through Holland and Hanover, into Prussia, by the orders of marshal Blücher. But for this foresight and determined maintenance of military discipline, much greater mischief would have ensued amongst certain contingents of the allied troops, who, as it was, by their doubtful attachment to the cause in which they were enlisted and unsoldierlike behaviour in the field, provoked many a hearty curse on the day of Waterloo.

[176]
[177]

What were Napoleon’s plans, and how sanguine were his expectations, will be placed beyond all doubt by the following letter, written to the prince de la Moskowa, the renowned Ney, who had joined the army but the evening before, and by his proclamation addressed to the Belgians.

To the Prince de la Moskowa.

[180]

Little comment need be made upon this letter and proclamation. They are characteristic of Napoleon. A most able plan of operations is developed with his usual recklessness of human life: we see him prepared to sacrifice his troops of the line to save his guard; and either wing, so that with the other he might make a dash at Brussels.

His overweening confidence of being there even early on the 17th, and his sanguine expectations that the population would support him, are clearly shown by the above documents.

Napoleon must evidently have miscalculated the degree of energy and promptitude necessary to overcome two such generals as Wellington and Blücher. He sadly underrated the gallant troops which he and his marshal had to combat. And when adverse writers talk so much of the calculating, cautious and methodical Wellington (as Napoleon was pleased to call him,) being taken by surprise in this campaign, we may venture to ask, was not the Emperor taken by surprise and thrown out in all his calculations by the extreme vigilance and energy which brought three corps of the Prussian army, above eighty-five thousand men, into position at Ligny by mid-day on the 16th? and but for an error in the transmission of orders, these troops would also have been joined by Bulow’s corps; and had general Zieten sent information to general Müffling or to the duke of Wellington at Brussels, when the French army in three columns was first seen in his front in advance of Charleroi, the whole allied army might have been concentrated at Quatre-Bras during the night of the 15th. Wellington in person was at Ligny on the 16th; observing Napoleon preparing for battle, and after conferring with Blücher, he returned to Quatre-Bras in time to give a most critical check to the gallant Ney. Was it no surprise to Napoleon to find that Wellington, upon hearing of Blücher’s retreat from Ligny, instead of falling back to Ostend, etc., immediately retired with ominous steadiness upon Mont-St.-Jean? and there arrested the ambition of his opponent, who, instead of being at Brussels early on the 17th, as intimated to Ney, was compelled to open his eyes, on the morning of the 18th, to the fact that he was still above twelve miles from Brussels, and unable to advance a step nearer[181] without fighting a desperate battle, and staking his empire on the result! He did fight: the stake was lost, and, by the next morning, he found himself again at Charleroi, whence he had dispatched his memorable letter to his “cousin” Ney but two days before. He must have felt an agony of surprise and something more, as he fled on for his very life, to escape from his enraged pursuers.

M. de Vaulabelle indeed, in his “Campaign and Battle of Waterloo,” published at Paris in 1845, attributes the non-arrival of Napoleon at Brussels, to his having calculated that the Prussians would not assemble in any great force until the 17th, (page 53;) and further on (page 54,) the author says, “Napoleon’s plans and arrangements were frustrated and his sanguine expectations disappointed, on finding a barrier of ninety-five thousand Prussians assembled between him and the Belgian capital.” The above author also informs us, (page 68,) that a longer delay on the 16th, in executing his projected movements at Ligny, would have compromised his success on that day; and (page 95,) that “on the 17th, fresh delays succeeded those of the two preceding ones.” Ney’s troops, although the marshal, it is pretended, received orders to renew the attack on Quatre-Bras at break of day, were still in bivac at eleven o’clock. We are given to understand by M. de Vaulabelle, that similar delays occurred to different corps placed under the direct command of the Emperor and marshal Grouchy. We are also told that “the soldiers grumbled at this inaction of which they did not know the motives, questioned their officers, and interrogated their generals;” in fact, to use the author’s words, “L’énergie et l’activité semblaient s’être réfugiées dans leurs rangs.” (“All energy and activity seemed to have taken refuge in their ranks.”) The inhabitants of St.-Amand also affirm that, on a group of generals passing through the village, the soldiers followed them with their cries, “We made our soup at break of day in order to be sooner at the ball, and we have been four hours doing nothing; why don’t we fight? There is something underhand[85].”

[182]

In face of all these discrepant statements, and upon calm reflection and close examination of the history of the battle of Waterloo, Napoleon’s disasters should not be attributed to the neglect or disobedience of his generals, but, under Providence, to the consummate bravery of the troops, and the skill of the generals opposed to him.

Napoleon, when at St.-Helena, admitted that the tactics of his army in the Waterloo campaign had their defects; but on no occasion, to my knowledge, did he admit that he himself had committed an error. He invariably endeavoured to shift all blame, more especially the irretrievable failure at Waterloo, to other shoulders than his own, to those of his marshals. He accused Grouchy, the well-tried soldier in many a hard-fought field, and who was banished for his attachment to the Imperial cause, of having, by neglect, delay and non-compliance with orders, occasioned his defeat at Waterloo; and Grouchy’s alleged false movement is the basis of every argument advanced by those who yet maintain the military infallibility of their idolized Emperor. One would imagine, from the tenor of Napoleon’s order of the day on the 14th of June, “Soldiers! we have forced marches to make, battles to fight, dangers to encounter,” that he would not have allowed the precious hours of the morning of the 16th to be frittered away in inactivity, or have left his troops until near eleven o’clock in the bivac of the night before, chiefly where they crossed the Sambre, viz. at Charleroi, Châtelet and Marchiennes, without making a movement to support his advanced troops at Frasnes and Fleurus. No doubt the French were fatigued and wanted rest; but, as the success of the campaign depended upon vigorously pressing forward, and making the most of the first advantages, there was no time for rest. Again, on the 17th, after the battles of Quatre-Bras and Ligny, we find Napoleon lingering on the field of Ligny, visiting the wounded, and expressing his satisfaction at witnessing the gallantry of his troops; we find him discussing, with Gérard and Grouchy, subjects in no way connected with the campaign which should decree him Emperor or exile; we find it to be near one o’clock P.M. (17th,) before he put his own force in motion to join Ney in pursuit of us, or before he gave[183] Grouchy his orders to pursue the Prussians. Early in the morning, Pajol’s cavalry and Teste’s infantry divisions were detached towards Namur, in pursuit of the Prussians; and, strange to say, when, after capturing a Prussian battery on the Namur road, and sending it to the Imperial head-quarters, they found themselves completely baffled and at fault, they returned to their bivac of the preceding night near Mazy, and lay there till next morning, the 18th.

The Prussians, after their line had been broken about nine o’clock on the 16th at Ligny, were allowed to retreat upon Wavre unmolested; nor did Grouchy, who was subsequently ordered by Napoleon “to follow the Prussians and not to let them out of his sight, to complete their defeat by attacking them and prevent their effecting a junction with the allies,” know until the afternoon of the 17th by what route the main Prussian army had retreated. Grouchy’s advance-guard did not come up with the Prussian rear till half-past ten A.M. of the 18th, when three out of the four Prussian corps were already on their march to join us: of this Grouchy knew nothing; so far from it, he believed he had the whole Prussian army before him.

If it be objected to Grouchy, that he did not act up to the letter or the spirit of his instructions, we affirm that it was impossible for him to do so, the delay in giving him his orders having enabled the Prussians to gain fourteen hours start of him.

This fact the marshal communicated to the Emperor, who replied that he, with the rest of his army, was about to follow the English and give them battle, should they take position in front of the forest of Soigne, directing Grouchy to communicate with him by the paved road of Quatre-Bras[86]: but not a word about that general’s joining in his attack on the English. Napoleon followed us by the paved road to La Belle-Alliance: Grouchy followed the Prussians by cross-roads to Gembloux, about six miles, where he halted for the[184] night, and wrote to Napoleon; receiving the following answer, dated

Again, not one word about marching to assist the Emperor: and here we may observe that Wavre is not in the direction of Mont-St.-Jean. When, however, at one o’clock, Napoleon found that Wellington was not to be trifled with, and that a Prussian corps was hovering upon his right flank, he dispatched another order, dated

The order was in itself no doubt sound and judicious; but the original vice we have already alluded to, as characterizing[185] the movements of the French army after the passage of the Sambre, rendered obedience impossible. The letter, written at one o’clock, did not reach Grouchy until seven, about which time Napoleon’s right had been attacked and driven back by Bulow’s advanced brigades.

It was half-past seven o’clock A.M. on the 18th of June, when Grouchy moved from his bivac at Gembloux, and, owing to the bad state of the roads, nearly half-past eleven, before he reached Sart-lez-Walhain, a distance of about six miles. At the latter place, the report of a heavy cannonade was distinctly heard in the direction of Waterloo: Grouchy was strongly urged by some of his generals to march towards the firing; and for not doing so, he has been attacked at all points. He declined the proposition of his generals, on the ground that he did not consider it his duty to march towards the battle already raging elsewhere, but to attack, according to his instructions, the Prussians with whom he had just come up. Grouchy has since declared, that he did not consider it his duty to follow the advice of Gérard and the other generals, and that to have done so would have been acting contrary to his orders. To have detached a portion of his force towards the main French army would have separated his two corps by the Dyle river, whose waters were much swollen by the heavy rains, and whose banks were so swampy, that it would have been impossible for his divisions to have mutually supported each other; consequently he continued his march upon Wavre.

For argument’s sake, we will suppose that Grouchy adopts the advice of his generals, and commences his march at the time the firing was first heard, about half-past twelve o’clock. On average roads in fair condition, an army of thirty-two thousand men of all arms would take seven hours to march fifteen miles; they had already marched about six miles, as we have seen, over bad roads. From Sart-lez-Walhain to Plancenoit, Napoleon’s right, the distance is about sixteen miles, and over bad roads; how could they have come up in time, and that, without taking into account the obstructions which they must have encountered from the Prussian corps who were scouring the whole of that part of the country? It was utterly[186] impossible for Grouchy, after breaking up his bivac at Gembloux so late as half-past seven o’clock on the morning of the 18th, to prevent the three Prussian corps, who well knew his movements, from forming a junction with us, or from attacking the French right. Had Grouchy left Gembloux at two o’clock A.M., and marched, unmolested by the Prussians, by St.-Guibert and Moustier to St.-Lambert, and taken position near the defiles of the Lasne and St.-Lambert, he might have kept Bulow from attacking the French right, and Napoleon might, before eight o’clock, about which time a brigade of Pirch’s and part of a brigade of Zieten’s corps came up, have attacked Wellington with his whole remaining force.

After the unaccountable delay on the 17th, the division of his force by Napoleon appears a false move; for a corps of cavalry would have sufficed to watch the Prussians. Grouchy, unquestionably, was dilatory, and wanting in his former energy and judgment; for though he must have known that the Prussians, or a large portion of them, would attempt their junction with us, he sent out no patrols to ascertain whether the contemplated movement was in operation, and neglected to keep up that which is always so essential, a close communication with the main body of the French army. His whole attention appears to have been directed to his right; the events on his left he entirely neglected.

We have stated Napoleon’s anxiety to impute the blame of the failure exclusively to his two marshals. We have endeavoured, in the fair and fearless spirit of military criticism, to examine how far such inculpation is borne out by facts in the case of marshal Grouchy, and we now, in the same impartial manner, propose to analyze the accusation made against the gallant and daring Ney, “the bravest of the brave.” The charges are twofold: delay at Quatre-Bras, and rashness at Waterloo.

Ney, as we have seen, had been ordered by Napoleon, on the morning of the 16th, to seize Quatre-Bras, to occupy Genappe if practicable, and to be ready to march on Brussels the same evening, (16th,) or on the morning of the 17th at latest, as the seizure of the capital by a coup de main on the 17th was the Emperor’s grand object. For this purpose Ney[187] was, if possible, to press forward three or four leagues at least, on the 16th, and to be supported by the light cavalry of the Imperial guard.

Now, Ney is blamed by Napoleon and other military writers (French,) for not having gained possession of Quatre-Bras early on the 16th, before our force came up. Certainly no British soldier underrates the value of an early attack: (as Aroyo-de-Molinos can testify:) but was Ney justified in attempting to obtain possession of Quatre-Bras? We incline to think he was not. More than one half of his force was still in the rear: D’Erlon’s corps was on the Sambre, or close to it, Girard’s division of Reille’s corps was near Fleurus with Grouchy, and Kellermann’s cavalry had not joined. No blame to him, the gallant Ney, for that; he had joined the army but the evening before, (the 15th). Notwithstanding these untoward events, he ordered forward Reille’s (second) corps; but finding that heavy masses of the enemy were concentrating at St.-Amand on his right, and ignorant of the force in his front, he judiciously declined to press on till D’Erlon came up as a support.

Napoleon, before he left Charleroi, sent another order to Ney to unite his force, (Reille’s and D’Erlon’s corps, and Kellermann’s cuirassiers who were about to join him,) remarking, “With this force you ought to overwhelm any strength the enemy may oppose to you.” When Ney commenced his attack on Quatre-Bras he was cautious. Napoleon had now arrived at Fleurus, and sent word to Ney, that Grouchy would attack the Prussians at half-past two o’clock; that he, Ney, was to press vigorously upon any enemy in his front, and then turn round and assist in crushing the Prussians at Ligny. About three o’clock, Ney got another dispatch, informing him that the battle of Ligny had already begun, directing him to manœuvre immediately, so as to fall upon the Prussian rear with all his force, which would be utterly destroyed if he acted with vigour, adding, in his own emphatic language addressed to a heart so susceptible and patriotic as Ney’s, “The fate of France is in your hands!” But that which pre-eminently characterized Napoleon’s early career, that to which he almost exclusively owed his brilliant[188] victories, that in which all men of all nations will admit his wonderful excellence,—rapidity in executing his plans,—here again failed him. Lightning may slumber; but Time will ceaselessly march on, heedless of the errors of heroes! The Emperor’s delay enabled our noble Picton, with his gallant band, to come up from Brussels, closely followed by the Brunswickers, headed by their cherished and chivalrous duke, who found Quatre-Bras to be his last battle field. Such foes occupied Ney: and Napoleon knew it not!

Observe, Napoleon (who, according to French historians, could not err,) intrusting the fate of France to a flank movement by Ney, who was unable ultimately to hold his own position! He accuses Ney of having kept Reille’s and D’Erlon’s corps detached, saying, “Had he united them, not an Englishman would have escaped at Quatre-Bras;” and yet it was by Napoleon’s own order, (in a pencilled note,) conveyed by colonel Laurent, that Ney was ordered to detach D’Erlon’s corps to St.-Amand! Laurent, falling in with the head of the column then marching on Frasnes, upon his own responsibility changed its direction. On inquiring for count D’Erlon, he was informed that, as was his habit, he had gone ahead to Frasnes, preceding his column. On his arrival at the latter place, Laurent found the general, and handed over to him the pencilled note, stating, at the same time, the position in which he might find the head of his column.

At this time general Delcambre, chief of the staff of the 1st (D’Erlon’s) corps, went to acquaint the prince de la Moskowa of the change in the line of march. Ney, who was himself then hard pressed by Wellington, sent back Delcambre with peremptory orders to D’Erlon to march on Quatre-Bras: but ere the order could reach him, he was close to St.-Amand, and consequently at too great a distance to return in time to render assistance to Ney.

Could Ney therefore be made responsible for the absence of D’Erlon’s corps, its change of direction, or this assumed want of vigour consequent on either?

It is evident from the tenor of the dispatch from Napoleon at two o’clock on the 16th, addressed to Ney at Gosselies, that Napoleon did not imagine that the marshal had left Gosselies[189] at that hour, much less that he had attacked us. Where now was Ney’s delay when, with a fraction of his force, (three divisions of Reille’s corps and Piré’s cavalry,) he attacked us at Quatre-Bras?

This proves the fallacy of the assertions contained in the Mémoires historiques de Napoléon, and something perhaps stronger than fallacies in Gourgaud’s campaign of 1815. In these Ney is assailed for not attacking us early in the morning of the 16th. We will not however leave the posthumous fame of the gallant Ney to be sacrificed to Imperial infallibility. We assert that Ney, on the 16th, did all at Quatre-Bras that circumstances warranted, and attempted more; we assert that if he failed in his attempt, (viz. of occupying Quatre-Bras,) his failure is to be, so far as Ney and his force are concerned, ascribed to British bayonets, and not to any want of skill, daring or rapidity on the part of Ney[87], or to any want of gallantry, or deadly devotion on the part of the brave troops of Reille, Piré and Kellermann.

We arrive now at the different versions which have been published of the battle of Waterloo, and which issued from St.-Helena. How much credit should be attached to these accounts, may be judged by the following extracts from the able work entitled “The Military life of the Duke of Wellington:”

“It may perhaps be remarked, that we have attached little authority to the accounts of this campaign which emanated from St.-Helena. The writer of this portion of the present work had the honour of being intimately acquainted with some of the persons composing Napoleon’s suite at Longwood; and although he has reason to believe the volumes given to the world with the names of generals de Montholon and Gourgaud perfixed to them to be genuine; that is, that they were prepared[190] from Napoleon’s notes and dictation; yet, he conceives, he has equal reason for rejecting them as testimony. An officer of Bonaparte’s establishment told him at Longwood, that the termination of the battle of Waterloo had occasioned the utmost perplexity amongst them; and that he himself, having been employed by the ex-Emperor to write an account of the campaign, had presented no less than six distinct modes of ending the battle, all of which had been rejected.

“Ab uno disce omnes.”[88]

Various accounts of the battle that subsequently emanated from St.-Helena, Grouchy characterizes as containing “supposed instructions and orders, imaginary movements, etc., deductions made after the event;” (“des instructions et des ordres supposés, des mouvements imaginatifs, etc.; des assertions erronées, des hypothèses faites après coup.”) I will not trouble my readers with any further remarks upon accounts so destitute of truth. Gourgaud’s account, dictated by Napoleon himself, is, for the most part, indignantly and completely refuted by marshal Grouchy as a mere “military romance.”

From this trait of history-making, we may judge of the rest of the accounts that were concocted in the ever fertile imagination of Napoleon. His utter disregard of truth was part of his policy; and if, for a time, it enabled him to deceive a high-minded and gallant people, amongst whom the liberty of the press had been annihilated, in the end it contributed to his ruin, nearly as much as did the bravery and perseverance of his victorious opponents. Why did we meet him at Waterloo? We were not at war with France, with its legitimate sovereign, or with the French people. But we were at war with Napoleon: he had been declared hors la loi (outlawed) by civilized Europe[89]; the idol indeed of a fine army, but a man devoid of truth and principle, whom no treaties could bind, and whose restless ambition was utterly incompatible with the peace of Europe.

[191]

His chief aim was to obtain universal dominion, and his inordinate love of glory made him conceive the chimera of a universal monarchy, of which he was to be the chief. Few have denied him to have been an able and daring commander, gifted with great military talents; and the duke of Wellington never hesitated in affirming, that of all the chiefs of armies in the world, the one in whose presence it was most hazardous to make a false movement was Napoleon[90].

It was against this man, and not against France, that Wellington uniformly declared he was leading his troops: “France,” said the Duke in a letter dated June 4th, 1815, “has no enemies, as far as I know: I am sure that she does[192] not deserve to have any. We are the enemies of one man only, and of his partisans, of him who has misused his influence over the French army, to overthrow the throne of the king, in order to subjugate France, and then to bring back to all of us the days of misery which we thought were gone by.... Our state then ought not to be called one of war with France, but of war on the part of all Europe, comprising therein France herself, against Napoleon and against his army, whose bad conduct is the cause of all the evils which are going to happen, and which we all deplore[91].”

Lest our neighbours may think this view of Napoleon’s character drawn by English prejudice, and as not affording sufficient reasons for the determination of Wellington to aim solely at his destruction, and with a steadiness of resolve not to be turned aside till complete success attended the efforts of the allies, I beg to record the following character of Napoleon, and his iron rule over the French people. It will be observed that this character was drawn by the pen of Frenchmen, proclaimed by French authorities, and placarded by them on all the walls of Paris, whose inhabitants knew too well the facts on which the proclamation was founded. The general and municipal Council of Paris thus addressed the people, the year before the battle of Waterloo:

“You owe all the evils which overwhelm you to one man, to him who every year, by the conscription, decimates your families. Who amongst us has not lost a brother, a son, relatives, friends? And why have all these brave men fallen? For him alone, and not for the country. In what cause have they fallen? They have been immolated to the mad ambition of leaving behind him the name of the most dreadful oppressor that ever weighed on the human race.... It is he that has closed against us the seas of the two worlds. To him we are indebted for the hatred of the people of all nations, without having deserved it; for, like them, we have been the unhappy victims as well as the sad instruments of his madness. What matters it that he has sacrificed but few to his private hatred, if he has sacrificed France,—we should not say, France only,[193] but all Europe, to his boundless ambition? Look at the vast continent of Europe, everywhere strewed with the mingled bones of Frenchmen, and people with whom we had no disputes, no causes of mutual hatred, who were too distant from us to have any cause of quarrel, but whom he precipitated into all the horrors of war, solely that the earth might be filled with the noise of his name. Why boast of his past victories? What good have those dreadful triumphs brought us? The hatred of other nations, the tears of our families, our daughters forced to remain unmarried, our matrons plunged into premature widowhood, the despair of fathers and mothers, to whom there remains, out of a numerous progeny, but the hand of an infant to close their eyes: behold! these are the results of all those victories, which have brought foreign armies within our very walls.... In the name of our most sacred duties, we abjure all obedience to the usurper; we return to our legitimate rulers.”

“How just,” adds a French historian, “are these accusations, although they were made by men who a little before had been prodigal of flattery and incense to the author of all these public calamities[92]!”

With such a man as Napoleon is here described, whose towering military genius no one can call in question, and whose influence had so long, and so fatally fascinated the gallant French people, whose eyes were at length opened to the real character of his rule, it must not be wondered at, that we went to war; nor should our triumph over him ever be regarded as a triumph over the French nation: between that high-minded people and the rest of the civilized world, may the peace, which is already of unexampled duration, and which we bought so dearly, continue forever!

I may here present to the reader the sentiments of a noble and distinguished writer, who had long been near Napoleon and had closely watched his career. On hearing of his arrival at St.-Helena, this French statesman and scholar gave the following commentary to the world. No one who is acquainted with the writings of Chateaubriand will suspect him of any[194] bias towards the British character: yet he wrote thus of our vanquished foe:

“The bloody drama of Europe is concluded, and the great tragedian, who for twenty years has made the earth his theatre, and set the world in tears, has left the stage for ever! He lifted the curtain with his sword, and filled the scenes with slaughter. His part was invented by himself, and was terribly unique. Never was there so ambitious, so restless a spirit; never so daring, so fortunate a soldier. His aim was universal dominion, and he gazed at it steadfastly with the eye of the eagle, and the appetite of the vulture.

“He combined within himself all the elements of terror, nerve, malice and intellect; a heart that never trembled, a mind that never wavered from its purpose. The greatness of his plans defied speculation, and the rapidity of their execution outstripped prophecy. Civilized nations were the victims of his arts, and savages could not withstand his warfare. Sceptres crumbled in his grasp, and liberty withered in his presence. The Almighty appeared to have intrusted to him the destinies of the globe, and he used them to destroy. He shrouded the sun with the clouds of battle, and unveiled the night with his fires. His march reversed the course of nature: the flowers of the spring perished, the fruits of autumn fell; for his track was cold, and cheerless, and desolate, like the withering, wintry blast. Amid all the physical, moral and political changes which he produced, he was still the same. Always ambitious, always inexorable; no compassion assuaged, no remorse deterred, no dangers alarmed him. Like the barbarians, he conquered Italy, and rolling back to its source the deluge that overwhelmed Rome, he proved himself the Attila of the West. With Hannibal, he crossed the Alps in triumph; Africa beheld in him a second Scipio, and standing on the Pyramids of Egypt, he looked down on the fame of Alexander. He fought the Scythian in his cave, and the unconquered Arab fled before him. He won, and divided, and ruled nearly all modern Europe. It became a large French province, where foreign kings still reigned by courtesy, or mourned in chains. The Roman pontiff was his prisoner, and he claimed dominion over the altar with the God of hosts. Even his name inspired[195] universal terror, and the obscurity of his designs rendered him awfully mysterious. The navy of Great Britain watched him with the eye of Argus, and her coast was lined with soldiers who slept on their arms. He made war before he declared it; and peace was with him a signal for hostilities. His friends were the first whom he assailed, and his allies he selected to plunder. There was a singular opposition between his alleged motives and his conduct. He would have enslaved the land to make the ocean free, and he wanted only power to enslave both.

“If he was arrogant, his unparalleled successes must excuse him. Who could endure the giddiness of such a mountain elevation? Who, that amid the slaughter of millions had escaped unhurt, would not suppose, that a deity had lent him armour, like Achilles? Who, that had risen from such obscurity, overcame such mighty obstacles, vanquished so many monarchs, won such extensive empires, and enjoyed so absolute a sway? Who, in the fulness of unequalled power and in the pride of exulting ambition, would not believe himself the favourite of Heaven?

“He received the tribute of fear, and love, and admiration. The weight of the chains which he imposed on France was forgotten in their splendour: it was glorious to follow him, even as a conscript. The arts became servile in his praise; and genius divided with him her immortal honours. For it is mind alone that can triumph over time. Letters, only, yield permanent renown.

“This blood-stained soldier adorned his throne with the trophies of art, and made Paris the seat of taste as well as of power. There, the old and the new world met and conversed; there, Time was seen robbed of his scythe, lingering among beauties which he could not destroy; there, the heroes and sages of every age mingled in splendid alliance, and joined in the march of fame. They will appeal to posterity to mitigate the sentence which humanity claims against the tyrant Bonaparte. Awful indeed will be that sentence; but when will posterity be a disinterested tribunal? When will the time arrive that Europe shall have put off mourning for his crimes? In what distant recess of futurity will the memory of Moskow[196] sleep? When will Jena, Gerona, and Austerlitz, when will Jaffa, Corunna, and Waterloo be named without tears of anguish and vows of retribution? Earth can never forget, man can never forgive them.

“Let him live, if he can endure life, divested of his crown, without an army, and almost without a follower. Let him live, he who never spared his friends, if he can withstand the humiliation of owing his life to an enemy. Let him live, and listen to the voice of conscience. He can no longer drown it in the clamorous report of war. No cuirass guards his bosom from the arrows of remorse. Now that the cares of state have ceased to distract his thoughts, let him reflect on his miserable self; and, with the map before him, retrace his bloody career. Alas! his life is a picture of ruin, and the light that displays it is the funeral torch of nations. It exhibits one mighty sepulchre, crowded with the mangled victims of murderous ambition. Let him reflect on his enormous abuse of power, on his violated faith, and shameless disregard of all law and justice.

“Let him live, and repent; let him seek to atone in humility and solitude for the sins of his political life, an example of the catastrophe of the wicked, and the vanity of false greatness. Great he unquestionably was, great in the resources of a misguided spirit, great in the conception and execution of evil; great in mischief, like the pestilence; great in desolation, like the whirlwind.”

From the equivocal loyalty to the common cause of many of the troops in the allied army, and the severity of the contest, we were not so surprised as we were vexed, to see them skulk away, and make for Brussels, or seek shelter in the woods. Our numbers were greatly reduced by this sort of defection, long before the close of the battle. General Müffling estimates the runaways at ten thousand, (far below the real number). Of course, such heroes would invent narratives and retail them in their dishonourable flight, in order to cover themselves from the reproaches and contempt richly merited by such unsoldierly behaviour. A gallant officer records a fact in point:

“Having been sent before day-light, on the morning after the battle,” says lieutenant-colonel Basil Jackson, “to communicate[197] the Duke’s orders for his array to move on Nivelles, ... I had an opportunity of witnessing how disgraceful had been the conduct of many of the foreign troops. I saw thousands making their way to the front, who had quitted their colours during the battle and fled to the forest. The commanding officer of a cavalry regiment showed me a hundred and forty men, stating that his loss in the battle had reduced it to that number. I believe this regiment was not engaged; for very nearly the original complement of eight hundred men were forthcoming a few days after! The Duke degraded it, by turning it over to the commissariat to furnish escorts[93].”

Some there were who wore the British uniform, who took advantage of the duty of carrying the wounded to the rear, and did not return to their duty on the field. This circumstance has been pitiably exaggerated, and even distorted into a tale that the British generally were flying off to Brussels when the Prussians came up.

The duke of Wellington, in his general order, issued at Nivelles, two days after the battle, thus noticed the conduct of those who had improperly absented themselves from their colours:

... “3. The Field-Marshal has observed that several soldiers, and even officers, have quitted their ranks without leave, and have gone to Brussels, and even some to Antwerp; where, and in the country through which they have passed, they have spread a false alarm, in a manner highly unmilitary, and derogatory to the character of soldiers.

“4. The Field-Marshal requests the general officers commanding divisions in the British army, and the general officers commanding the corps of each nation of which the army is composed, to report to him in writing what officers and men,—the former by name,—are now, or have been, absent without leave since the 16th[94].”

It may not be out of place to offer a few general remarks on some points in which the public have felt much interest, and upon which opinions have greatly differed.

[198]

It is certain that the duke of Wellington would not have accepted battle at Waterloo, had he not been sure of the cooperation of the Prussians; and the loss which they sustained during the short time they were engaged, proves the value of that cooperation.

The diversion of the Prussians diminished the French force against us, by count de Lobau’s corps, eleven battalions of the Imperial guard, and eighteen squadrons of cavalry, amounting to above fifteen thousand men and sixty-six guns. It is evident that the blow, which decided the fate of the day, was given by the Duke when he defeated the Imperial guard, attacked the French reserves, and forced their centre: by this, D’Erlon’s columns were turned on their left, and Reille’s on their right: then followed the general advance of Wellington’s whole line.

With the splendid light cavalry force Napoleon had at his command, and Grouchy, detached with thirty-two thousand men of all arms to watch the Prussians, it is most extraordinary that the first intimation the Emperor had of their advance upon his right, was about one o’clock on the 18th, when, from his position above La Belle-Alliance, he himself saw them at St.-Lambert.

Notwithstanding the numerous charges made by the French cavalry, not one was made upon our left wing; nor was their cavalry of the right wing put in motion, till the ardour of our heavy cavalry carried them upon the French position, when their lancers, cuirassiers and dragoons were let loose upon our broken and disordered cavalry, who suffered severely.

D’Erlon’s infantry columns, and the last two attacking columns of the Imperial guard were entirely unsupported by cavalry, or they never could have been so closely pursued, and so roughly handled.

The French army under Napoleon was composed almost exclusively of veterans; many of whom, the year before, had been liberated from the English, Russian and Austrian prisons: men whose trade was war, and who were well inured to it; whose battles equalled their years in number; all of one nation, devoted to their leader and his cause, most enthusiastic,[199] and well equipped: in fact the finest army Napoleon ever brought into the field. One more gallant, or more complete in every respect, never stood before us.

We, on the contrary, were of different nations. Our foreign auxiliaries, who constituted more than half our numerical strength, with some exceptions, were little better that raw militia-men.

It would not perhaps be out of place if we now notice an assertion of French, and even of English writers; namely, that the duke of Wellington was taken by surprise at the commencement of this campaign. Surely the French must laugh in their sleeves when they find English writers credulous enough to print statements which have originated in the lively imaginations of our neighbours, and to support the assertion that the Duke depended upon such a man as Fouché, for information of Napoleon’s arrival in Belgium, and of his plan of operations. We find a very late writer even quoting Fouché, to prove what he advances. One would imagine that such authors were perfectly ignorant of the contents of the Duke’s twelfth volume of the Dispatches, or of Fouché’s reputation. They deny his Grace the possession of common prudence, if they believe he would intrust the safety of his army, and thereby the interests of Europe, to an ignoble police-spy, whose memory is justly despised by every Frenchman.

In reply to the unfounded statement that Wellington relied on any information from that archtraitor and lump of duplicity, it is sufficient to give the following extract from a letter in the Duke’s Dispatches, (vol. XII, page 649,) addressed to Dumouriez: “Avant mon arrivée à Paris, au mois de juillet, je n’avais jamais vu Fouché, ni eu avec lui communication quelconque, ni avec aucun de ceux qui sont liés avec lui.” (“Before my arrival in Paris, in July, I had never seen Fouché, nor had had any communication with him, nor with any one connected with him.”) Of the French movements the Duke had timely information from a very different source. I was told by sir Hussey Vivian, (when he visited the field in 1839,) that he was aware on the 13th of June; of the French being concentrated and ready to attack; and that he[200] reported the circumstance to the Duke: this is corroborated in Siborne’s history, at page 49, vol. I: these are undoubted authorities.

Those who have attentively followed the Duke in his operations during this campaign, or referred to his correspondence, will have found that, for weeks before, his Grace had foreseen Napoleon’s intentions and had made deliberate arrangements to render them unavailing. The allied army was so cantoned by Wellington, that its divisions could be promptly united when the plans of Napoleon should be sufficiently developed. The admirable organization of the allied army, effected by the Duke so shortly after he took the command, must have struck our readers: it is evident he was at once the main-spring, directing head, and very soul of the grand European coalition; and it could only be a just confidence in the admirable plan he had drawn up for the conduct of the allied troops, that dictated the letter addressed to sir Henry Wellesley, June 2d, 1815, and which expresses the following very remarkable anticipation of coming events:

... “We have as yet done nothing here.... Towards the 16th, I hope we shall begin. I shall enter France with between seventy and eighty thousand men; the Prussians near me, with twice as many[95].”

This document was penned a fortnight before the action at Quatre-Bras, where we began work in earnest, as the Duke had anticipated, exactly on the 16th. This fact, of itself, should suffice to stop the mouths of those who delight in telling us that Wellington was taken by surprise. There were moments indeed, when he thought that Napoleon’s ambition might be so far controlled by common prudence, as to be content with remaining within the boundaries of France, and leaving the odium of acting aggressively to the allied powers; and in such moments, the Duke spoke and wrote of awaiting for the combined movements of the Austrians and Russians. But not for a single instant did he lose sight of the possibility, nay probability, that Bonaparte would rush across the borders, begin offensive operations, and make a dash to seize the[201] person of Louis XVIII, or to get possession of the city of Brussels. Against these contingencies, how early and how ably our great chieftain provided, let facts, and not the dreams of mortified narrators, inform the world.

On the 6th, 7th, and 10th of June, the Duke dispatched letters to the Prussians’ head-quarters], informing them that the enemy was in great strength about Maubeuge, where Bonaparte was said to be on the 9th, and thence to have gone along the frontiers towards Lille; and that an attack was to be forthwith expected[96].

With this intelligence received by Wellington, and actively circulated by him among all who were exposed to be attacked by the French, how was it possible that he should be taken by surprise? Every movement of the enemy was quickly known to him; and his characteristic vigilance, and matured judgment, enabled him to foretell the very time and place of the grand attack. All that depended on him was in perfect readiness, several days before fighting began. If the Prussians were unaccountably remiss in not forwarding to his Grace earlier intelligence of the descent of the enemy into Belgium, it was not for want of watchfulness on the part of the Duke; he was quite awake. Let the reader turn to the Appendix of this work, (No. I,) for proof that Wellington was not easily to be surprised, but that he had all his forces so well in hand on the 30th of April, that they could march at a moment’s notice, and unite at any point really attacked.

In reply to the assertion made by French, and even by Prussian official writers, “that Blücher and his troops saved the allied army,” it may be observed, the battle of Waterloo must be always considered as a battle fought by the right wing of an army, for the purpose of maintaining a position until the arrival of the Prussians, its left wing, should render victory certain. The safest tactics, in the Duke’s opinion, were to act entirely on the defensive, and he had, in consequence, thoroughly matured his arrangements with Blücher for mutual support. The Duke, therefore, was not only justified in receiving battle, but had every reason to expect to[202] have been reinforced several hours before the Prussians came up. Waterloo might have terminated with much less sacrifice of life, and as decisively at three, as it afterwards did at eight o’clock. But even admitting, for a moment, that the arrival of the Prussians saved us at Waterloo, we undoubtedly saved them by holding our position until they came up. Had we given way before they cleared the defiles of St.-Lambert, they would have been annihilated; of this they were aware, as our readers will be convinced on reference to the letters from the Prussian to the allied head-quarters[97].

But facts are stubborn things, and it is doubtful whether Napoleon could have driven the British from the ground, even if the Prussians had not arrived. The English troops had maintained their position for eight hours against the most experienced army and the ablest general ever France sent into the field; not a British regiment was broken, nor the allied army in a panic, nor, at any time, in serious danger of being penetrated. Further, even if the Prussians had not arrived, we are inclined to think that Napoleon could not, in the exhausted and dispirited condition of his troops, and the lateness of the hour, have driven the British from their ground. His cavalry was nearly annihilated: while three brigades of British infantry, one of the King’s German legion, and two brigades of British cavalry[98], had, except in the loss sustained by the 27th regiment, and 12th dragoons, suffered but comparatively little; many of the foreign troops had not fired a shot: and after the arrival of Vivian and Vandeleur, the British cavalry were, as our readers have seen, masters of the field. The junction of the Prussians was a part of Wellington’s combinations for the battle. Their flank movement at Waterloo was similar to Desaix’s from Novi to Marengo; with this no small difference, that upon Bulow’s troops joining, they found the allied army firm and unbroken, and rather in[203] advance of their position of the morning[99]: when Desaix joined Bonaparte, he was in full retreat, one wing of his army destroyed, and obliged to change his whole front to save the rest from destruction; this eventually gave him the victory. We are not astonished that the French should employ this argument as a balm to their disappointment, but it comes with a peculiar bad grace from the Prussians. Surely, in thus taking the lion’s share in this glorious victory, they do not think to cover their defeat at Ligny, or their unaccountable delay in arriving on the field of Waterloo.

“The roads were very bad, and the Prussians had a numerous artillery, not over-well horsed. Yet supposing them to have been put in motion at eight o’clock in the morning, (their official account says break of day,) they were ten or eleven hours in marching little more than a like number of miles! May we not therefore be allowed to conjecture, that there was some hesitation on the part of Blücher in marching upon Waterloo, until he could feel assured of his army being in little danger from Grouchy?” (Jacksos and Scott’s Life of the Duke of Wellington.)[100].

And if true, as the Prussian official report represents, that Blücher had such a large force on the field to act, previous to, or during Napoleon’s last attack upon us, why did not Blücher, to use the language of two excellent military writers, roll up the French army as Pakenham’s division did at Salamanca? I have often thought that if lord Hill could, by any means, have been transferred across the field to where Bulow debouched, with the same force of British troops under his command as Bulow had of Prussian, (30,000,) our illustrious Chief’s table that night might have been honoured by the presence of Napoleon and his chief officers, and most of the French army favoured with a free passage to England.

Lieutenant-colonel B. Jackson, in his Military life of Wellington, (vol. II, page 806,) says, “There can exist no doubt[204] whatever that, paradoxical as it may at first sight appear, the cooperation, thought somewhat tardy, of the Prussians, produced, not the defeat, but the total rout of Bonaparte’s army: for the duke of Wellington could not, weakened as his force was at the close of the day, have hazarded an attack with his whole army, had Blücher not been at hand to support the movement. The service rendered by our brave allies was therefore most opportune, and of the highest value.... An error of half an hour—and men do not consult their watches during the excitement of battle—made either by the Prussians or ourselves, is sufficient to account for much of the discrepance existing between their statements and our own.”

That English and Prussian writers should altogether agree as to the apportionment of the glory of the day, was not to be expected. It is clear, to the lasting honour of the two allied nations, that whatever feelings may have since grown up on this subject, none interfered at the time with the cordiality of their combined operations. The following lines, from a Prussian pen, will show that just national pride is not inconsistent with candour:

“Upon the question, who really fought and won the battle of the 18th, no discussion, much less contention, ought to have arisen. Without in the slightest degree impeaching the just share of Prussia in the victory, or losing sight for a moment of the fact that she bore a great share of the danger, and drew much of it from her allies and upon herself at a decisive moment, no unprejudiced person can conceal from himself that the honour of the day is due to the Anglo-Netherlandish army, and to the measures of its great leader. The struggle of Mont-St.-Jean was conducted with an obstinacy, ability, and foresight of which history affords few examples. The great loss of the English also speaks the merit of their services. More than seven hundred officers, among them the first of their army, whether in rank or merit, and upwards of ten thousand soldiers, fell, or retired wounded from the field[101].”

[205]

No one unacquainted with war can form the most distant idea of the weak state and disorganization to which even a victorious army is reduced by a long, trying, severe day’s battle. The number of men absent from the ranks is incredible, and long continued excitement nearly exhausts the rest.

Although we place little reliance on statements which have originated from St.-Helena, yet we must be excused if we quote O’Meara, whose conversations with the Emperor have been faithfully given to the world. They contain several allusions to the battle of Waterloo, and attest the Emperor’s conviction of the completeness of our victory over him, and the hopelessness of all his plans, as well as his utter despair before he quitted the field.

What other honest interpretation can be given to these words, “I ought to have died at Waterloo; but, as ill luck will have it, when you seek death you cannot meet with it. There were numbers killed close to me, before, behind, on every side of me; but there was no bullet for me!” Why should a man desire to be struck down, if, as the fond tale goes amongst some of his indiscriminate admirers, he had thrice won the battle of Waterloo? He desired death, because he saw that all his resources were gone, and that the British, notwithstanding the day’s dreadful carnage, were about to deal the decisive blow with irresistible force.

The same author relates several facts connected with the battle of Waterloo, communicated to him by general Gourgaud, under Napoleon’s roof. These are the general’s words, as written down at the time, (August 23d, 1817:)

“At the close of the battle of Waterloo, and after the unsuccessful charge of the French, the English cavalry which charged in return, approached within two or three hundred yards of the spot where Napoleon was, with none about him but Soult, Drouot, Bertrand, and Gourgaud himself. At a short distance from them was a small French battalion, that had formed square. Napoleon directed general Gourgaud to order two or three field-pieces belonging to this battalion to be fired, in order to arrest the cavalry which was coming on. The order was executed, and one of the balls wounded lord Uxbridge in the leg. Napoleon put himself at the head of[206] the column, exclaiming, ‘Here we must die! we must die on the field of battle!’”

Let us observe, that Napoleon must, at this moment, have felt himself beaten, and that his conquerors were the British, to whom, as the most noble of his enemies, he paid the compliment, wishing to die by our hands rather than by those of the Prussians, who were advancing on his right, ready enough to gratify his wish. But, to continue general Gourgaud’s account:

“At the very instant that Napoleon was desirous of making a charge with the handful of men left about him, the English light infantry was gaining ground. Labédoyère galloped round them, sword in hand, seeming to court a glorious death on the field of honour. We prevented Napoleon from rushing into the midst of the enemy. It was Soult who seized his horse by the bridle, and said, ‘They will not kill you: you will be taken prisoner;’ and that general, with the assistance of a few others who gathered round, prevailed on Napoleon to fly from the field of battle.”

We have often, throughout this discussion, quoted several of our opponents: let us now give two great authorities on every question connected with the field of Waterloo, viz. the duke of Wellington and lord Hill. It is also a conversation, but related by B. R. Haydon Esq., (United Service Magazine, February 1844, page 281:)

“When sir Walter Scott was at Paris in 1815, he was permitted to ask, and he did put the following questions, at his Grace’s table, relating to Waterloo, and I repeat them as sir Walter detailed them to me at my own: ‘Suppose, your Grace, Blücher had not come up.’ The Duke replied, ‘I could have kept my ground till next morning.’—‘Suppose Grouchy had come first.’—‘Blücher would have been close behind him.’—‘But let us suppose, your Grace had been compelled to retreat.’—‘I could have taken position in the forest of Soigne, and defied all till the allies joined.’—‘Was there any part of the day when your Grace despaired?’—‘Never,’ was the reply.

“This was the reply of the first in command. In 1833, the writer of this letter dined at lord Palmerston’s; on his right[207] sat lord Hill. As his Lordship lived near the author, he offered to set him down. When alone in the carriage with lord Hill, remembering what sir Walter had affirmed of the Duke’s confidence, he said, ‘Was there any part of the day at Waterloo, my lord, you ever desponded as to the result?’—‘Desponded!’ replied lord Hill, ‘never: there never was the least panic; we had gained rather than lost ground, by the evening. No, there was not a moment I had the least doubt of the result.’”

In conclusion, and as a final answer to the depreciators of British valour, we offer them the speech of the celebrated Ney, uttered in the Chamber of Peers four days after the battle, and which is, perhaps, of the French accounts the most worthy of attention, and too remarkable to be omitted on the present occasion.

When the peers were assembled, Carnot gave them a flaming account of Grouchy’s admirable retreat from Wavre, at the head, the minister said, of sixty thousand men; of Soult’s success in collecting together twenty thousand of the old guard; of new levies from the interior, with two hundred pieces of cannon. Ney, highly incensed at these mischievous untruths, and keenly suffering from the injustice done to him in Napoleon’s bulletins, started up, and declared Carnot’s statement to be utterly false:

“Will they dare to assert,” exclaimed the exasperated marshal, “before eyewitnesses of the disastrous day of the 18th, that we have yet sixty thousand soldiers embodied? Grouchy cannot have under him above twenty or five-and-twenty thousand soldiers, at the utmost. Had he possessed a greater force, he might have covered the retreat, and the Emperor would still have been in command of an army on the frontiers. Not a man of the guard will ever rally more. I myself commanded them; I myself witnessed their total extermination, ere I left the field of battle: they are annihilated. The enemy are at Nivelles with eighty thousand men; they may, if they please, be at Paris in six days. There is no safety for France, but in instant propositions for peace[102].”

[208]

This speech opened the eyes of all Paris to the facts, and prepared the entry of the allies into France, almost without striking a blow. It was truly, like my pages, a voice from Waterloo and is the last testimony we shall present to the reader, in refutation of the tale, that we were beaten before the arrival of the Prussians. It was not against the latter that the devoted Ney led the Imperial guard, nor were they by the Prussians annihilated; they were defeated on no other spot but the allied position on the field of Waterloo.

[209]

SECRET MEMORANDUM.

for H. R. H. the prince of Orange, the Earl of Uxbridge, Lord Hill, and the Quarter-Master-General.

“Brussels, April 29th, 1815.

“1. Having received reports that the Imperial guard had moved from Paris upon Beauvais, and a report having been for some days prevalent in the country that Bonaparte was about to visit the northern frontier, I deem it expedient to concentrate the cantonments of the troops, with a view to their early junction in case this country should be attacked, for which concentration the Quarter-Master-General now sends orders.

“2. In this case, the enemy’s line of attack will be either between the Lys and the Scheldt, or between the Sambre and the Scheldt, or by both lines.

“3. In the first case, I should wish the troops of the 4th division to take up the bridge on the Scheldt, near Avelghem, and with the regiment of cavalry at Courtray, to fall back upon Audenarde, which post they are to occupy, and to inundate the country in the neighbourhood.

“4. The garrison of Ghent are to inundate the country in the neighbourhood likewise, and that point is to be held at all events.

[210]

“5. The cavalry in observation between Menin and Furnes are to fall back upon Ostend, those between Menin and Tournay upon Tournay, and thence to join their regiments.

“6. The 1st, 2d, and 3d divisions of infantry are to be collected at the head-quarters of the divisions, and the cavalry at the head-quarters of their several brigades, and the whole to be in readiness to march at a moment’s notice.

“7. The troops of the Netherlands to be collected at Soignies and Nivelles.

“8. In case the attack should be made between the Sambre and the Scheldt, I propose to collect the British and Hanoverians at and in the neighbourhood of Enghien, and the army of the Low-Countries at and in the neighbourhood of Soignies and Braine-le-Comte.

“9. In this case, the 2d and 3d divisions will collect at their respective head-quarters, and gradually fall back towards Enghien, with the cavalry of colonel Arentschild, and the Hanoverian brigade.

“10. The garrisons of Mons and Tournay will stand fast; but that of Ath will be withdrawn, with the 2d division, if the works should not have been sufficiently advanced to render the place tenable against a coup de main.

“11. General sir William Ponsonby’s, sir J. O. Vandeleur’s, and sir Hussey Vivian’s brigades of cavalry, will march upon Hal.

“12. The troops of the Low-Countries will collect upon Soignies and Braine-le-Comte.

“13. The troops of the 4th division, and the 2d hussars, after taking up the bridge at Avelghem, will fall back upon Audenarde, and there wait for further orders.

“14. In case of the attack being directed by both lines supposed, the troops of the 4th. division, and 2d hussars, and the garrison of Ghent, will act as directed in Nos. 3 and 4 of this Memorandum; and the 2d and 3d divisions, and the cavalry, and the troops of the Low-Countries, as directed in Nos. 8, 9, 10, 11, and 12.

“Wellington.”
(Gurwood, vol. XII, p. 337-8.)

[211]

MEMORANDUM

for Colonel Sir William de Lancey, Deputy Quarter-Master-General.

MOVEMENTS OF THE ARMY.

“Brussels, June 15th, 1815.

“General Dornberg’s brigade of cavalry, and the Cumberland hussars, to march this night upon Vilvorde, and to bivac on the high-road near to that town.

“The earl of Uxbridge will be pleased to collect the cavalry this night at Ninove, leaving the 2d hussars looking out between the Scheldt and the Lys.

“The 1st division of infantry to collect this night at Ath and adjacent, and to be in readiness to move at a moment’s notice.

“The 3d division to collect this night at Braine-le-Comte, and to be in readiness to move at the shortest notice.

“The 4th division to be collected this night at Grammont, with the exception of the troops beyond the Scheldt, which are to be moved to Audenarde.

“The 5th division, the 81st regiment and the Hanoverian brigade of the 6th division, to be in readiness to march from Brussels at a moment’s notice.

“The duke of Brunswick’s corps to collect this night on the high-road between Brussels and Vilvorde.

“The Nassau troops to collect at day-light to-morrow morning on the Louvain road, and to be in readiness to move at a moment’s notice.

“The Hanoverian brigade of the 5th division to collect this night at Hal, and to be in readiness at day-light to-morrow morning to move towards Brussels, and to halt on the high-road between Alost and Assche for further orders.

“The prince of Orange is requested to collect at Nivelles the 2d and 3d divisions of the army of the Low-Countries; and, should that point have been attacked this day, to move[212] the 3d division of British infantry upon Nivelles, as soon as collected.

“This movement is not to take place until it is quite certain that the enemy’s attack is upon the right of the Prussian army, and the left of the British army.

“Lord Hill will be so good as to order prince Frederick of Orange to occupy Audenarde with five hundred men, and to collect the 1st division of the army of the Low-Countries, and the Indian brigade, at Sotteghem, so as to be ready to march in the morning at day-light.

“The reserve artillery to be in readiness to move at day-light.

“Wellington.”
(Gurwood, vol XII, p. 472-3.)

INSTRUCTIONS

FOR THE MOVEMENT OF THE ARMY ON JUNE 16TH.

Signed by Colonel Sir William De Lancey, Deputy Quarter-Master-General.

To General Lord Hill.

“June 16th, 1815.

“The duke of Wellington requests that you will move the 2d division of infantry upon Braine-le-Comte immediately. His Grace is going to Waterloo.”

To the same.

“June 16th, 1815.

“Your Lordship is requested to order prince Frederick of Orange to move, immediately upon the receipt of this order, the 1st division of the army of the Low-Countries, and the Indian brigade, from Sotteghem to Enghien, leaving five hundred men, as before directed, in Audenarde.”

To the same.

“Genappe, June 16th, 1815.

“The 2d division of infantry to move to-morrow morning at day-break from Nivelles to Quatre-Bras.

[213]

“The 4th division of infantry to move at day-break to-morrow morning to Nivelles.”

“June 16th, 1815.

“The reserve artillery to move at day-break to-morrow morning, the 17th, to Quatre-Bras, where it will receive further orders.”

To Major-General Sir J. Lambert.

“June 16th, 1815.

“The brigade of infantry under the command of major-general sir J. Lambert, to march from Assche at day-break to-morrow morning, the 17th inst., to Genappe, on the Namur road, and to remain there until further orders.”

(Gurwood, vol. XII, p. 274-5.)

The reader will observe that the letters from which I make the following extracts, were written at three o’clock in the morning of the battle.

To Sir Charles Stuart.

“Waterloo, June 18th, 1815,
three o’clock A.M.

“MY DEAR STUART,

... “You will see in the letter to the duc de Berry the real state of our case, and the only risk we run. The Prussians will be ready again in the morning for anything.

“Pray keep the English (in Brussels,) quiet, if you can. Let them all prepare to move, but neither be in a hurry nor a fright, as all will yet turn out well.

“I have given the directions to the governor of Antwerp, to meet the crotchets which I find in the heads of the king’s governors upon every turn....

“Wellington.”
(Gurwood, vol. XII, page 476.)

[214]

To His Royal Highness the Duc de Berry.

“Waterloo, June 18th, 1815,
three o’clock in the morning.

“SIR,

“I have not written to your Royal Highness since Thursday, as I had nothing to communicate ... and I have had a great deal to do.

“We had a very sanguinary battle on Friday last: near the farm of Quatre-Bras; the Prussians, about Sombreffe. I had very few troops with me, and no cavalry: I however drove the enemy back, and had considerable success. The Prussians suffered a good deal, and retreated during the night; and in consequence I retired also during the day. I saw very little yesterday of the enemy, who followed us very gently, and the Prussians not at all. The Prussians have been joined by their fourth corps, more than thirty thousand strong, and I have also nearly all my men together.

“It may happen that the enemy will turn us by Hal, although the weather is terrible and the roads are in a shocking state, and although I have posted prince Frederick’s corps between Hal and Enghien. If this should happen, I beg your Royal Highness to march on Antwerp ... and to inform his Majesty (Louis XVIII,) that I beg him to leave Ghent for Antwerp by the left of the Scheldt. He will find no difficulty in crossing at the Tête de Flandre.

... “I hope, and I have every reason to believe, that all will turn out well; but we must take every possible precaution, and avoid great losses. It is with this view, that I beg your Royal Highness to follow the directions here given, and his Majesty to make for Antwerp, not upon false reports, but upon certain information that the enemy has got into Brussels, in spite of me, in turning me by Hal....

“Wellington.”
(Gurwood, vol. XII, p. 476-7.)

The following letters, written just after the battle, will show how deeply the duke felt the loss of his companions in arms:[215] the renown his success would ensure was no consolation to him for the loss of friends and heroes: patriotism, and the confident expectation that an effectual stop was at length put to the horrors which had desolated Europe for more than twenty years, were the sources of such comfort as he could feel himself, or offer to others, for the expenditure of so many valuable lives.

To the Earl of Aberdeen, K. T.

“Brussels, June 19th, 1815.

“MY DEAR LORD,

“You will readily give credit to the existence of the extreme grief with which I announce to you the death of your gallant brother, (colonel Gordon,) in consequence of a wound received in our great battle of yesterday.

“He had served me most zealously and usefully for many years, and on many trying occasions; but he had never rendered himself more useful, and had never distinguished himself more, than in our late actions.

“He received the wound which occasioned his death, when rallying one of the Brunswick battalions which was shaking a little; and he lived long enough to be informed by myself of the glorious result of our actions, to which he had so much contributed by his active and zealous assistance.

“I cannot express to you the regret and sorrow with which I look round me, and contemplate the loss which I have sustained, particularly in your brother. The glory resulting from such actions, so dearly bought, is no consolation to me, and I cannot suggest it as any to you and his friends; but I hope that it may be expected that this last one has been so decisive, as that no doubt remains that our exertions and our individual losses will be rewarded by the early attainment of our just object. It is then that the glory of the actions in which our friends and relations have fallen, will be some consolation for their loss.

“Believe me, etc.
“Wellington.”

“Your brother had a black horse, given to him, I believe,[216] by lord Ashburnham, which I will keep till I hear from you what you wish should be done with it.”

(Gurwood, vol. XII, p. 488-9.)

To the Duke of Beaufort, K. G.

“Brussels, June 19th, 1815.

“MY DEAR LORD,

“I am very sorry to have to acquaint you that your brother Fitzroy is very severely wounded, and has lost his right arm. I have just seen him, and he is perfectly free from fever, and as well as anybody could be under such circumstances. You are aware how useful he has always been to me, and how much I shall feel the want of his assistance, and what a regard and affection I feel for him; and you will readily believe how much concerned I am for his misfortune. Indeed, the losses I have sustained, have quite broken me down; and I have no feeling for the advantages we have acquired. I hope, however, that your brother will soon be able to join me again; and that he will long live to be, as he is likely to become, an honour to his country, as he is a satisfaction to his family and friends.

“Believe me, etc.
“Wellington.”
(Gurwood, vol. XII, page 489.)

To Marshal Prince Schwarzenberg.

“Joncourt, June 26th, 1815.

... “Our battle on the 18th was one of giants; and our success was most complete, as you perceive. God grant I may never see another! for I am overwhelmed with grief at the loss of my old friends and comrades.

“My neighbour and fellow-labourer (Blücher) is in good health, though he suffers a little from the fall of a horse, wounded under him in the battle of the 16th....

“Wellington.”
(Gurwood, vol. XII, page 510.)

The following extracts will prove the early and complete conviction of the Duke, that all had been decided at Waterloo.

[217]

To General Dumouriez.

“Nivelles, June 20th, 1815.

... “You must have heard what I have done; and I hope you are satisfied. I never saw such a battle as the one the day before yesterday; and never before did I gain such a victory. I trust it is all over with Bonaparte. We are in hot pursuit of him....

“Wellington.”
(Gurwood, vol. XII, page 490.)

To General the Earl of Uxbridge.

“Le Cateau, June 23d, 1815.

... “My opinion is that we have given Napoleon his death-blow.... He can make no head against us ... il n’a qu’à se pendre,” (he has only to hang himself)....

“Wellington.”
(Gurwood, vol. XII, p. 499-500.)

To the Prince de Talleyrand.

“Le Cateau, June 24th, 1815.