_June 18th._--Memorable day! Some time before daybreak the bombardier
who had been despatched to Langeveldt returned with a supply of
ammunition. He reported that he had been much impeded by the
confusion on the road, which was everywhere crowded with waggons, &c.
Many he had seen overturned, and many plundered, or being plundered;
but his account by no means justified those who stated the road to be
blocked up in such a manner as to be impassable. Indeed, considering
all things, he had performed his journey in sufficiently reasonable
time.
With the providence of an old soldier, he had picked up and brought
on a considerable quantity of beef, biscuit, and oatmeal, of which
there was abundance scattered about everywhere. Casks of rum,
&c., there were, and having broached one of these--he and his
drivers--every one filled his canteen--a most considerate act, and
one for which the whole troop was sincerely thankful. Nor must I omit
to remark that, amidst such temptations, his men had behaved with the
most perfect regularity, and returned to us _quite sober_!
The rum was divided on the spot; and surely if ardent spirits
are ever beneficial, it must be to men situated as ours were; it
therefore came most providentially. The oatmeal was converted
speedily into stirabout, and afforded our people a hearty meal,
after which all hands set to work to prepare the beef, make soup,
&c. Unfortunately, we preferred waiting for this, and passed
the stirabout, by which piece of folly we were doomed to a very
protracted fast, as will be seen. Whilst our soup was cooking, it
being now broad daylight, I mounted my horse to reconnoitre our
situation. During the night another troop (I think Major Ramsay’s)
had established itself in our orchard, and just outside the hedge I
found Major Bean’s, which had also arrived during the night, direct
from England. Ascending from the farm towards the ground we had left
yesterday evening, the face of the slope, as far as I could see,
to the right and left, was covered with troops _en bivouac_--here,
I think, principally cavalry. Of these some were cleaning their
arms, some cooking, some sitting round fires smoking, and a few,
generally officers, walking about, or standing in groups conversing.
Many of the latter eagerly inquired where I was going, and appeared
very anxious for intelligence, all expecting nothing less than
to recommence our retreat. I continued on to the position we had
occupied last, and thence clearly saw the French army on the opposite
hill, where everything appeared perfectly quiet--people moving
about individually, and no formation whatever. Their advanced-posts
and vedettes in the valley, just beyond La Haye Sainte, were also
quiet. Having satisfied my curiosity, I returned the way I came,
communicating my observations to the many eager inquirers I met with.
Various were the speculations in consequence. Some thought the French
were afraid to attack us, others that they would do so soon, others
that the Duke would not wait for it, others that he would, as he
certainly would not allow them to go to Brussels; and so they went on
speculating, whilst I returned to my people. Here, finding the mess
not yet ready, and nothing to be done, I strolled into the garden
of the farm, where several Life Guardsmen were very busy digging
potatoes--a fortunate discovery, which I determined to profit by.
Therefore calling up some of my men, to work we went without loss of
time.
Whilst thus employed, I noticed a very heavy firing going on in
front, but this did not make us quit our work. Shortly after, to my
great astonishment, I observed that all the bivouacs on the hillside
were deserted, and that even Ramsay’s troop had left the orchard
without my being aware of it, and my own was left quite alone, not a
soul being visible from where I stood in any direction, the ground
they had quitted presenting one unbroken muddy solitude. The firing
became heavier and heavier. Alarmed at being thus left alone, when
it was evident something serious was going on, I hastened back and
ordered the horses to be put to immediately.
Away went our mess untasted. One of the servants was desired to hang
the kettle with its contents under an ammunition-waggon. The stupid
fellow hung the kettle as desired, but first emptied it. Without
orders, and all alone, the battle (for now there was no mistaking it)
going on at the other side of the hill, I remained for a few minutes
undecided what to do. It appeared to me we had been forgotten.
All, except only ourselves, were evidently engaged; and labouring
under this delusion, I thought we had better get into the affair
at once. As soon, therefore, as the troop was ready, I led them up
the hill on the highroad, hoping to meet some one who could give me
directions what to do. We had not proceeded a hundred yards, when
an artillery officer came furiously galloping down towards us. It
was Major M‘Lloyd, in a dreadful state of agitation--such, indeed,
that he could hardly answer my questions. I learned, however, that
the battle was very serious and bloody. Their first attack had been
on that part of our position where his battery stood; but now the
principal efforts were making against our right. All this was told
in so hurried and anxious a manner, that one could hardly understand
him. “But where are you going?” he added. I told him my plan. “Have
you no orders?” “None whatever; I have not seen a soul.” “Then, for
God’s sake, come and assist me, or I shall be ruined. My brigade is
cut to pieces, ammunition expended, and, unless reinforced, we shall
be destroyed.” He was dreadfully agitated, and when I took his hand
and promised to be with him directly, seemed transported with joy;
so, bidding me make haste, he darted up the hill again, and went
to receive that death-stroke which, ere long, was to terminate his
earthly career. I trust before that termination he heard the reason
why I never fulfilled that promise; for weeks elapsed ere he died,
no doubt--otherwise he must have set me down for a base poltroon. My
destiny led me elsewhere. My tutelary spirit was at hand: the eternal
Major M‘Donald made his appearance, and, giving me a sharp reprimand
for having quitted my bivouac, desired me instantly to return to the
foot of the hill, and there wait for orders. Sulkily and slowly we
descended, and forming in line on the ground opposite the farm of
Mont St Jean, with our left to the road, I dismounted the men that
they might be a little less liable to be hit by shot and shells
which, coming over the hill, were continually plunging into the muddy
soil all around us. This was a peculiarly dismal situation--without
honour or glory, to be knocked on the head in such a solitude, for
not a living being was in sight.
It was while thus standing idle that a fine tall upright old
gentleman, in plain clothes, followed by two young ones, came across
our front at a gallop from the Brussels road, and continued on
towards where we supposed the right of our army to be. I certainly
stared at seeing three unarmed civilians pressing forward into so
hot a fight. These were the Duke of Richmond and his two sons.
How long we had been in this position, I know not, when at length
we were relieved from it by our adjutant (Lieutenant Bell), who
brought orders for our removal to the right of the second line.
Moving, therefore, to our right, along the hollow, we soon began a
very gentle ascent, and at the same time became aware of several
corps of infantry, which had not been very far from us, but remained
invisible, as they were all lying down. Although in this move we may
be said to have been always under a heavy fire, from the number of
missiles flying over us, yet were we still so fortunate as to arrive
in our new position without losing man or horse. In point of seeing,
our situation was much improved; but for danger and inactivity, it
was much worse, since we were now fired directly at, and positively
ordered not to return the compliment--the object in bringing us
here being to watch a most formidable-looking line of lancers drawn
up opposite to us, and threatening the right flank of our army. A
scientific relation of this great struggle, on which the fate of
Europe hinged, I pretend not to write. I write neither history, nor
‘Mémoires pour servir à l’Histoire,’ &c. &c., but only pure simple
gossip for my own amusement--just what happened to me and mine, and
what I _did_ see happen to others about me. Depend upon it, he who
pretends to give a general account of a great battle from his own
observation deceives you--believe him not. He can see no further
(that is, if he be personally engaged in it) than the length of his
nose; and how is he to tell what is passing two or three miles off,
with hills and trees and buildings intervening, and all enveloped in
smoke? Busaco might have been tolerably described, but there are no
Busacos in the Pays Bas. The back of the principal ridge on which our
army was posted descended by a pretty regular slope in the direction
of Waterloo, and but just in rear of its right another shorter and
lower ridge ran a little way almost parallel to it. The highroad
to Nivelle passed along the hollow between the two. Both ridges
terminated in a ravine that enclosed our right flank, running down
from the Château de Hougoumont (although it be pretended now that the
name is “Goumont,” I persist in the orthography which is found in all
the old maps of this department) in the direction of Merke Braine; in
short, a contracted continuation of the greater valley lying between
the two armies and nearly at right angles to it.
The sides of this ravine (much steeper than any other ground near),
as far as I can recollect, were partially covered with bushes; and,
from the summit of the one opposite to us, the ground ascended by a
very gradual slope for about 800 or 1000 yards; and there, on what
appeared as the height of the land, there were several small clumps
of wood. This slope itself was still covered with fine crops of
standing corn. The crest was occupied by the long line of lancers
already spoken of, whose movements I was ordered to watch, but on
no account to interfere with, unless they attempted to pass the
ravine.[17] Such was our front view.
To the right we looked over a fine open country, covered with crops
and interspersed with thickets or small woods. There all was peaceful
and smiling, not a living soul being in sight. To our left, the main
ridge terminated rather abruptly just over Hougoumont, the back of
it towards us being broken ground, with a few old trees on it just
where the Nivelle road descended between high banks into the ravine.
Thus we were formed _en potence_ with the 1st line, from which we
(my battery) were separated by some hundred yards. In our rear the
14th Regiment of infantry (in square, I think) lay on the ground. In
our front were some light dragoons of the German Legion, who from
time to time detached small parties across the ravine. These pushed
cautiously up the slope towards the line of lancers to reconnoitre.
The corn, down to the edge of the ravine nearer the Nivelle road
and beyond it, was full of French riflemen; and these were warmly
attacked by others[18] from our side of the ravine, whom we saw
crossing and gradually working their way up through the high corn,
the French as gradually retiring. On the right of the lancers, two
or three batteries kept up a continued fire at our position; but
their shot, which could have been only 4-pounders, fell short--many
not even reaching across the ravine. Some, however, did reach their
destination; and we were particularly plagued by their howitzer
shells with long fuses, which were continually falling about us, and
lay spitting and sputtering several seconds before they exploded, to
the no small annoyance of man and horse. Still, however, nobody was
hurt; but a round-shot, striking the ammunition-boxes on the body
of one of our waggons, penetrated through both and lodged in the
back of the rear one, with nearly half its surface to be seen from
without--a singular circumstance! In addition to this front fire,
we were exposed to another on our left flank--the shot that passed
over the main ridge terminating their career with us. Having little
to occupy us here, we had ample leisure to observe what was passing
there. We could see some corps at the end near us in squares--dark
masses, having guns between them, relieved from a background of grey
smoke, which seemed to fill the valley beyond, and rose high in the
air above the hill. Every now and then torrents of French cavalry
of all arms came sweeping over the ridge, as if carrying all before
them. But, after their passage, the squares were still to be seen
in the same places; and these gentry, who we feared would next fall
on us, would evaporate, nobody could well say how. The firing still
increased in intensity, so that we were at a loss to conjecture what
all this could mean.
About this time, being impatient of standing idle, and annoyed by
the batteries on the Nivelle road, I ventured to commit a folly, for
which I should have paid dearly had our Duke chanced to be in our
part of the field. I ventured to disobey orders, and open a slow
deliberate fire at the battery, thinking with my 9-pounders soon to
silence his 4-pounders. My astonishment was great, however, when our
very first gun was responded to by at least half-a-dozen gentlemen
of very superior calibre, whose presence I had not even suspected,
and whose superiority we immediately recognised by their rushing
noise and long reach, for they flew far beyond us. I instantly saw my
folly, and ceased firing, and they did the same--the 4-pounders alone
continuing the cannonade as before. But this was not all. The first
man of my troop touched was by one of these confounded long shot. I
shall never forget the scream the poor lad gave when struck. It was
one of the last they fired, and shattered his left arm to pieces as
he stood between the waggons. That scream went to my very soul, for
I accused myself as having caused his misfortune. I was, however,
obliged to conceal my emotion from the men, who had turned to look at
him; so, bidding them “stand to their front,” I continued my walk up
and down, whilst Hitchins ran to his assistance.
Amidst such stirring scenes, emotions of this kind are but of short
duration; what occurred immediately afterwards completely banished
Gunner Hunt from my recollection. As a counterbalance to this
tragical event, our firing produced one so comic as to excite all
our risibility. Two or three officers had lounged up to our guns to
see the effect. One of them was a medico, and _he_ (a shower having
just come on) carried an umbrella overhead. No sooner did the heavy
answers begin to arrive amongst us than these gentlemen, fancying
they should be safer with their own corps, although only a few yards
in the rear, scampered off in double-quick, doctor and all, he still
carrying his umbrella aloft. Scarcely, however, had he made two paces
when a shot, as he thought, passing rather too close, down he dropped
on his hands and knees--or, I should rather say, hand and knees, for
the one was employed in holding the silken cover most pertinaciously
over him--and away he scrambled like a great baboon, his head turned
fearfully over his shoulder, as if watching the coming shot, whilst
our fellows made the field resound with their shouts and laughter.
I think I have already mentioned that it was not until some days
afterwards that I was able to resume my regular journal, consequently
that everything relative to these three days is written from memory.
In trying to recollect scenes of this nature, some little confusion
is inevitable; and here I confess myself somewhat puzzled to
account for certain facts of which I am positive. For instance, I
remember perfectly Captain Bolton’s brigade of 9-pounders being
stationed to the left of us, somewhat in advance, and facing as
we did, consequently not far from the Nivelle road. Bolton came
and conversed with me some time, and was called hastily away by
his battery commencing a heavy fire. Query--Who, and what, was he
firing at? That he was himself under a heavy fire there is equally
no doubt, for whilst we were not losing a man, we saw many, both of
his men and horses, fall, and but a few minutes after leaving me,
he was killed himself--this is a puzzle. I have no recollection of
any troops attempting to cross the ravine, and yet his fire was in
that direction, and I think must have been toward the Nivelle road.
A distressing circumstance connected with this (shall I confess it?)
made even more impression on my spirits than the misfortune of Gunner
Hunt. Bolton’s people had not been long engaged when we saw the men
of the gun next to us unharness one of the horses and chase it away,
wounded, I supposed; yet the beast stood and moved with firmness,
going from one carriage to the other, whence I noticed he was always
eagerly driven away. At last two or three gunners drove him before
them to a considerable distance, and then returned to their guns.
I took little notice of this at the time, and was surprised by an
exclamation of horror from some of my people in the rear. A sickening
sensation came over me, mixed with a deep feeling of pity, when
within a few paces of me stood the poor horse in question, side by
side with the leaders of one of our ammunition-waggons, against which
he pressed his panting sides, as though eager to identify himself
as of their society--the driver, with horror depicted on every
feature, endeavouring by words and gestures (for the kind-hearted
lad could not strike) to drive from him so hideous a spectacle.
A cannon-shot had completely carried away the lower part of the
animal’s head, immediately below the eyes. Still he lived, and seemed
fully conscious of all around, whilst his full, clear eye seemed
to implore us not to chase him from his companions. I ordered the
farrier (Price) to put him out of misery, which, in a few minutes, he
reported having accomplished, by running his sabre into the animal’s
heart. Even _he_ evinced feeling on this occasion. Meantime the roar
of cannon and musketry in the main position never slackened; it was
intense, as was the smoke arising from it. Amidst this, from time
to time, was to be seen still more dense columns of smoke rising
straight into the air like a great pillar, then spreading out a
mushroom-head. These arose from the explosions of ammunition-waggons,
which were continually taking place, although the noise which filled
the whole atmosphere was too overpowering to allow them to be heard.
Amongst the multitudes of French cavalry continually pouring over
the front ridge, one corps came sweeping down the slope entire, and
was directing its course straight for us, when suddenly a regiment
of light dragoons (I believe of the German Legion) came up from the
ravine at a brisk trot on their flank. The French had barely time
to wheel up to the left and push their horses into a gallop, when
the two bodies came in collision. They were at a very short distance
from us, so that we saw the charge perfectly. There was no check,
no hesitation, on either side; both parties seemed to dash on in a
most reckless manner, and we fully expected to have seen a horrid
crash--no such thing! Each, as if by mutual consent, opened their
files on coming near, and passed rapidly through each other, cutting
and pointing, much in the same manner one might pass the fingers of
the right hand through those of the left. We saw but few fall. The
two corps re-formed afterwards, and in a twinkling both disappeared,
I know not how or where. It might have been about two o’clock when
Colonel Gould, R.A., came to me, perhaps a little later. Be that as
it may, we were conversing on the subject of our situation, which
appeared to him rather desperate. He remarked that in the event of a
retreat, there was but one road, which no doubt would be instantly
choked up, and asked my opinion. My answer was, “It does indeed look
very bad; but I trust in the Duke, who, I am sure, will get us out of
it somehow or other.” Meantime gloomy reflections arose in my mind,
for though I did not choose to betray myself (as we spoke before the
men), yet I could not help thinking that our affairs _were_ rather
desperate, and that some unfortunate catastrophe was at hand. In this
case I made up my mind to spike my guns and retreat over the fields,
draught-horses and all, in the best manner I could, steering well
from the highroad and general line of retreat.
We were still talking on this subject, when suddenly a dark mass of
cavalry appeared for an instant on the main ridge, and then came
sweeping down the slope in swarms, reminding me of an enormous surf
bursting over the prostrate hull of a stranded vessel, and then
running, hissing and foaming, up the beach. The hollow space became
in a twinkling covered with horsemen, crossing, turning, and riding
about in all directions, apparently without any object. Sometimes
they came pretty near us, then would retire a little. There were
lancers amongst them, hussars, and dragoons--it was a complete
_mêlée_. On the main ridge no squares were to be seen; the only
objects were a few guns standing in a confused manner, with muzzles
in the air, and not one artilleryman. After caracoling about for a
few minutes, the crowd began to separate and draw together in small
bodies, which continually increased; and now we really apprehended
being overwhelmed, as the first line had apparently been. For a
moment an awful silence pervaded that part of the position to which
we anxiously turned our eyes. “I fear all is over,” said Colonel
Gould, who still remained by me. The thing seemed but too likely,
and this time I could not withhold my assent to his remark, for it
did indeed appear so. Meantime the 14th, springing from the earth,
had formed their square, whilst we, throwing back the guns of our
right and left divisions, stood waiting in momentary expectation of
being enveloped and attacked. Still they lingered in the hollow,
when suddenly loud and repeated shouts (not English hurrahs) drew
our attention to the other side. There we saw two dense columns of
infantry pushing forward at a quick pace towards us, crossing the
fields, as if they had come from Merke Braine. Every one, both of
the 14th and ourselves, pronounced them French, yet still we delayed
opening fire on them. Shouting, yelling, and singing, on they came,
right for us; and being now not above 800 or 1000 yards distant, it
seemed folly allowing them to come nearer unmolested. The commanding
officer of the 14th, to end our doubts, rode forward and endeavoured
to ascertain who they were, but soon returned, assuring us they were
French. The order was already given to fire, when, luckily, Colonel
Gould recognised them as Belgians. Meantime, whilst my attention was
occupied by these people, the cavalry had all vanished, nobody could
say how or where.
We breathed again. Such was the agitated state in which we were kept
in our second position. A third act was about to commence of a much
more stirring and active nature.
It might have been, as nearly as I can recollect, about three P.M.,
when Sir Augustus Frazer galloped up, crying out, “Left limber
up, and as fast as you can.” The words were scarcely uttered when
my gallant troop stood as desired in column of subdivisions, left
in front, pointing towards the main ridge. “At a gallop, march!”
and away we flew, as steadily and compactly as if at a review. I
rode with Frazer, whose face was as black as a chimney-sweep’s from
the smoke, and the jacket-sleeve of his right arm torn open by a
musket-ball or case-shot, which had merely grazed his flesh. As we
went along, he told me that the enemy had assembled an enormous mass
of heavy cavalry in front of the point to which he was leading us
(about one-third of the distance between Hougoumont and the Charleroi
road), and that in all probability we should immediately be charged
on gaining our position. “_The Duke’s orders, however, are positive,”
he added, “that in the event of their persevering and charging home,
you do not expose your men, but retire with them into the adjacent
squares of infantry._” As he spoke, we were ascending the reverse
slope of the main position. We breathed a new atmosphere--the air
was suffocatingly hot, resembling that issuing from an oven. We were
enveloped in thick smoke, and, _malgré_ the incessant roar of cannon
and musketry, could distinctly hear around us a mysterious humming
noise, like that which one hears of a summer’s evening proceeding
from myriads of black beetles; cannon-shot, too, ploughed the ground
in all directions, and so thick was the hail of balls and bullets
that it seemed dangerous to extend the arm lest it should be torn
off. In spite of the serious situation in which we were, I could
not help being somewhat amused at the astonishment expressed by our
kind-hearted surgeon (Hitchins), who heard for the first time this
sort of music. He was close to me as we ascended the slope, and,
hearing this infernal _carillon_ about his ears, began staring round
in the wildest and most comic manner imaginable, twisting himself
from side to side, exclaiming, “My God, Mercer, what _is_ that? What
_is_ all this noise? How curious!--how very curious!” And then when a
cannon-shot rushed hissing past, “_There!--there!_ What _is_ it all?”
It was with great difficulty that I persuaded him to retire: for a
time he insisted on remaining near me, and it was only by pointing
out how important it was to us, in case of being wounded, that he
should keep himself safe to be able to assist us, that I prevailed on
him to withdraw. Amidst this storm we gained the summit of the ridge,
strange to say, without a casualty; and Sir Augustus, pointing
out our position between two squares of Brunswick infantry, left
us with injunctions to remember the Duke’s order, and to economise
our ammunition. The Brunswickers were falling fast--the shot every
moment making great gaps in their squares, which the officers and
sergeants were actively employed in filling up by pushing their men
together, and sometimes thumping them ere they could make them move.
These were the very boys whom I had but yesterday seen throwing
away their arms, and fleeing, panic-stricken, from the very sound
of our horses’ feet. To-day they fled not bodily, to be sure, but
spiritually, for their senses seemed to have left them. There they
stood, with recovered arms, like so many logs, or rather like the
very wooden figures which I had seen them practising at in their
cantonments. Every moment I feared they would again throw down their
arms and flee; but their officers and sergeants behaved nobly, not
only keeping them together, but managing to keep their squares closed
in spite of the carnage made amongst them. To have sought refuge
amongst men in such a state were madness--the very moment our men
ran from their guns, I was convinced, would be the signal for their
disbanding. We had better, then, fall at our posts than in such a
situation. Our coming up seemed to reanimate them, and all their
eyes were directed to us--indeed, it was providential, for, had we
not arrived as we did, I scarcely think there is a doubt of what
would have been their fate.[19] Our first gun had scarcely gained
the interval between their squares, when I saw through the smoke the
leading squadrons of the advancing column coming on at a brisk trot,
and already not more than one hundred yards distant, if so much, for
I don’t think we could have seen so far. I immediately ordered the
line to be formed for action--_case-shot!_ and the leading gun was
unlimbered and commenced firing almost as soon as the word was given:
for activity and intelligence our men were unrivalled. The very first
round, I saw, brought down several men and horses. They continued,
however, to advance. I glanced at the Brunswickers, and that glance
told me it would not do; they had opened a fire from their front
faces, but both squares appeared too unsteady, and I resolved to
say nothing about the Duke’s order, and take our chance--a resolve
that was strengthened by the effect of the remaining guns as they
rapidly succeeded in coming to action, making terrible slaughter,
and in an instant covering the ground with men and horses. Still
they persevered in approaching us (the first round had brought them
to a walk), though slowly, and it did seem they would ride over
us. We were a little below the level of the ground on which they
moved--having in front of us a bank of about a foot and a half or
two feet high, along the top of which ran a narrow road--and this
gave more effect to our case-shot, all of which almost must have
taken effect, for the carnage was frightful.[20] I suppose this state
of things occupied but a few seconds, when I observed symptoms of
hesitation, and in a twinkling, at the instant I thought it was all
over with us, they turned to either flank and filed away rapidly to
the rear. Retreat of the mass, however, was not so easy. Many facing
about and trying to force their way through the body of the column,
that part next to us became a complete mob, into which we kept a
steady fire of case-shot from our six pieces. The effect is hardly
conceivable, and to paint this scene of slaughter and confusion
impossible. Every discharge was followed by the fall of numbers,
whilst the survivors struggled with each other, and I actually saw
them using the pommels of their swords to fight their way out of the
_mêlée_. Some, rendered desperate at finding themselves thus pent up
at the muzzles of our guns, as it were, and others carried away by
their horses, maddened with wounds, dashed through our intervals--few
thinking of using their swords, but pushing furiously onward, intent
only on saving themselves. At last the rear of the column, wheeling
about, opened a passage, and the whole swept away at a much more
rapid pace than they had advanced, nor stopped until the swell of the
ground covered them from our fire. We then ceased firing; but as they
were still not far off, for we saw the tops of their caps, having
reloaded, we stood ready to receive them should they renew the attack.
One of, if not the first man who fell on our side was wounded by his
own gun. Gunner Butterworth was one of the greatest pickles in the
troop, but, at the same time, a most daring, active soldier; he was
No. 7 (the man who sponged, &c.) at his gun. He had just finished
ramming down the shot, and was stepping back outside the wheel, when
his foot stuck in the miry soil, pulling him forward at the moment
the gun was fired. As a man naturally does when falling, he threw
out both his arms before him, and they were blown off at the elbows.
He raised himself a little on his two stumps, and looked up most
piteously in my face. To assist him was impossible--the safety of
all, everything, depended upon not slackening our fire, and I was
obliged to turn from him. The state of anxious activity in which
we were kept all day, and the numbers who fell almost immediately
afterwards, caused me to lose sight of poor Butterworth; and I
afterwards learned that he had succeeded in rising and was gone to
the rear; but on inquiring for him next day, some of my people who
had been sent to Waterloo told me that they saw his body lying by the
roadside near the farm of Mount St Jean--bled to death! The retreat
of the cavalry was succeeded by a shower of shot and shells, which
must have annihilated us had not the little bank covered and threw
most of them over us. Still some reached us and knocked down men and
horses.
At the first charge, the French column was composed of grenadiers à
cheval[21] and cuirassiers, the former in front. I forget whether
they had or had not changed this disposition, but think, from the
number of cuirasses we afterwards found, that the cuirassiers led
the second attack. Be this as it may, their column reassembled. They
prepared for a second attempt, sending up a cloud of skirmishers,
who galled us terribly by a fire of carbines and pistols at scarcely
40 yards from our front. We were obliged to stand with port-fires
lighted, so that it was not without a little difficulty that I
succeeded in restraining the people from firing, for they grew
impatient under such fatal results. Seeing some exertion beyond words
necessary for this purpose, I leaped my horse up the little bank,
and began a promenade (by no means agreeable) up and down our front,
without even drawing my sword, though these fellows were within
speaking distance of me. This quieted my men; but the tall blue
gentlemen, seeing me thus dare them, immediately made a target of me,
and commenced a very deliberate practice, to show us what very bad
shots they were and verify the old artillery proverb, “The nearer the
target, the safer you are.” One fellow certainly made me flinch, but
it was a miss; so I shook my finger at him, and called him _coquin_,
&c. The rogue grinned as he reloaded, and again took aim. I certainly
felt rather foolish at that moment, but was ashamed, after such
bravado, to let him see it, and therefore continued my promenade. As
if to prolong my torment, he was a terrible time about it. To me it
seemed an age. Whenever I turned, the muzzle of his infernal carbine
still followed me. At length bang it went, and whiz came the ball
close to the back of my neck, and at the same instant down dropped
the leading driver of one of my guns (Miller), into whose forehead
the cursed missile had penetrated.
The column now once more mounted the plateau, and these popping
gentry wheeled off right and left to clear the ground for their
charge. The spectacle was imposing, and if ever the word sublime
was appropriately applied, it might surely be to it. On they came
in compact squadrons, one behind the other, so numerous that those
of the rear were still below the brow when the head of the column
was but at some sixty or seventy yards from our guns. Their pace
was a slow but steady trot. None of your furious galloping charges
was this, but a deliberate advance, at a deliberate pace, as of men
resolved to carry their point. They moved in profound silence, and
the only sound that could be heard from them amidst the incessant
roar of battle was the low thunder-like reverberation of the ground
beneath the simultaneous tread of so many horses. On our part was
equal deliberation. Every man stood steadily at his post, the guns
ready, loaded with a round-shot first and a case over it; the tubes
were in the vents; the port-fires glared and sputtered behind the
wheels; and my word alone was wanting to hurl destruction on that
goodly show of gallant men and noble horses. I delayed this, for
experience had given me confidence. The Brunswickers partook of this
feeling, and with their squares--much reduced in point of size--well
closed, stood firmly, with arms at the recover, and eyes fixed on
us, ready to commence their fire with our first discharge. It was
indeed a grand and imposing spectacle! The column[22] was led on
this time by an officer in a rich uniform, his breast covered with
decorations, whose earnest gesticulations were strangely contrasted
with the solemn demeanour of those to whom they were addressed. I
thus allowed them to advance unmolested until the head of the column
might have been about fifty or sixty yards from us, and then gave the
word, “Fire!” The effect was terrible. Nearly the whole leading rank
fell at once; and the round-shot, penetrating the column, carried
confusion throughout its extent. The ground, already encumbered with
victims of the first struggle, became now almost impassable. Still,
however, these devoted warriors struggled on, intent only on reaching
us. The thing was impossible. Our guns were served with astonishing
activity, whilst the running fire of the two squares was maintained
with spirit. Those who pushed forward over the heaps of carcasses
of men and horses gained but a few paces in advance, there to fall
in their turn and add to the difficulties of those succeeding them.
The discharge of every gun was followed by a fall of men and horses
like that of grass before the mower’s scythe. When the horse alone
was killed, we could see the cuirassiers divesting themselves of the
encumbrance and making their escape on foot. Still, for a moment, the
confused mass (for all order was at an end) stood before us, vainly
trying to urge their horses over the obstacles presented by their
fallen comrades, in obedience to the now loud and rapid vociferations
of him who had led them on and remained unhurt. As before, many
cleared everything and rode through us; many came plunging forward
only to fall, man and horse, close to the muzzles of our guns; but
the majority again turned at the very moment when, from having less
ground to go over, it were safer to advance than retire, and sought
a passage to the rear. Of course the same confusion, struggle amongst
themselves, and slaughter prevailed as before, until gradually they
disappeared over the brow of the hill. We ceased firing, glad to take
breath. Their retreat exposed us, as before, to a shower of shot
and shells: these last, falling amongst us with very long fuses,
kept burning and hissing a long time before they burst, and were a
considerable annoyance to man and horse. The bank in front, however,
again stood our friend, and sent many over us innocuous.
Lieutenant Breton, who had already lost two horses, and had mounted a
troop-horse, was conversing with me during this our leisure moment.
As his horse stood at right angles to mine, the poor jaded animal
dozingly rested his muzzle on my thigh; whilst I, the better to hear
amidst the infernal din, leant forward, resting my arm between his
ears. In this attitude a cannon-shot smashed the horse’s head to
atoms. The headless trunk sank to the ground--Breton looking pale
as death, expecting, as he afterwards told me, that I was cut in
two. What was passing to the right and left of us I know no more
about than the man in the moon--not even what corps were beyond
the Brunswickers. The smoke confined our vision to a very small
compass, so that my battle was restricted to the two squares and my
own battery; and, as long as we maintained our ground, I thought it
a matter of course that others did so too. It was just after this
accident that our worthy commanding officer of artillery, Sir George
Adam Wood, made his appearance through the smoke a little way from
our left flank. As I said, we were doing nothing, for the cavalry
were under the brow re-forming for a third attack, and we were
being pelted by their artillery. “D--n it, Mercer,” said the old
man, blinking as a man does when facing a gale of wind, “you have
hot work of it here.” “Yes, sir, pretty hot;” and I was proceeding
with an account of the two charges we had already discomfited, and
the prospect of a third, when, glancing that way, I perceived their
leading squadron already on the plateau. “There they are again!” I
exclaimed; and, darting from Sir George _sans cérémonie_, was just
in time to meet them with the same destruction as before. This time,
indeed, it was child’s play. They could not even approach us in any
decent order, and we fired most deliberately; it was folly having
attempted the thing. I was sitting on my horse near the right of my
battery as they turned and began to retire once more. Intoxicated
with success, I was singing out, “Beautiful!--beautiful!” and my
right arm was flourishing about, when some one from behind, seizing
it, said quietly, “Take care, or you’ll strike the Duke;” and in
effect our noble chief, with a serious air, and apparently much
fatigued, passed close by me to the front, without seeming to take
the slightest notice of the remnant of the French cavalry still
lingering on the ground. This obliged us to cease firing; and at the
same moment I, perceiving a line of infantry ascending from the rear,
slowly, with ported arms, and uttering a sort of feeble, suppressed
hurrah--ankle-deep in a thick tenacious mud, and threading their way
amongst or stepping over the numerous corpses covering the ground,
out of breath from their exertions, and hardly preserving a line,
broken everywhere into large gaps the breadth of several files--could
not but meditate on the probable results of the last charge had I, in
obedience to the Duke’s order, retired my men into the squares and
allowed the daring and formidable squadrons a passage to our rear,
where they must have gone thundering down on this disjointed line.
The summit gained, the line was amended, files closed in, and the
whole, including our Brunswickers, advanced down the slope towards
the plain.
Although the infantry lost several men as they passed us, yet on
the whole the cannonade began to slacken on both sides (why, I know
not), and, the smoke clearing away a little, I had now, for the first
time, a good view of the field. On the ridge opposite to us dark
masses of troops were stationary, or moving down into the intervening
plain. Our own advancing infantry were hid from view by the ground.
We therefore recommenced firing at the enemies’ masses, and the
cannonade, spreading, soon became general again along the line.
Whilst thus occupied with our front, we suddenly became sensible of
a most destructive flanking fire from a battery which had come, the
Lord knows how, and established itself on a knoll somewhat higher
than the ground we stood on, and only about 400 or 500 yards a
little in advance of our left flank. The rapidity and precision of
this fire were quite appalling. Every shot almost took effect, and
I certainly expected we should all be annihilated. Our horses and
limbers, being a little retired down the slope, had hitherto been
somewhat under cover from the direct fire in front; but this plunged
right amongst them, knocking them down by pairs, and creating
horrible confusion. The drivers could hardly extricate themselves
from one dead horse ere another fell, or perhaps themselves. The
saddle-bags, in many instances, were torn from the horses’ backs,
and their contents scattered over the field. One shell I saw explode
under the two finest wheel-horses in the troop--down they dropped.
In some instances the horses of a gun or ammunition-waggon remained,
and all their drivers were killed.[23] The whole livelong day had
cost us nothing like this. Our gunners too--the few left fit for duty
of them--were so exhausted that they were unable to run the guns up
after firing, consequently at every round they retreated nearer to
the limbers; and as we had pointed our two left guns towards the
people who were annoying us so terribly, they soon came altogether
in a confused heap, the trails crossing each other, and the whole
dangerously near the limbers and ammunition-waggons, some of which
were totally unhorsed, and others in sad confusion from the loss of
their drivers and horses, many of them lying dead in their harness
attached to their carriages. I sighed for my poor troop--it was
already but a wreck.
I had dismounted, and was assisting at one of the guns to encourage
my poor exhausted men, when through the smoke a black speck caught
my eye, and I instantly knew what it was. The conviction that one
never sees a shot coming towards you unless directly in its line
flashed across my mind, together with the certainty that my doom was
sealed. I had barely time to exclaim “Here it is then!”--much in that
gasping sort of way one does when going into very cold water takes
away the breath--“whush” it went past my face, striking the point of
my pelisse collar, which was lying open, and smash into a horse close
behind me. I breathed freely again.
Under such a fire, one may be said to have had a thousand narrow
escapes; and, in good truth, I frequently experienced that
displacement of air against my face caused by the passing of shot
close to me; but the two above recorded, and a third which I shall
mention, were remarkable ones, and made me feel in full force the
goodness of Him who protected me among so many dangers. Whilst
in position on the right of the second line, I had reproved some
of my men for lying down when shells fell near them until they
burst. Now my turn came. A shell, with a long fuse, came slop
into the mud at my feet, and there lay fizzing and flaring, to
my infinite discomfiture. After what I had said on the subject, I
felt that I must act up to my own words, and, accordingly, there I
stood, endeavouring to look quite composed until the cursed thing
burst--and, strange to say, without injuring me, though so near.
The effect on my men was good. We had scarcely fired many rounds
at the enfilading battery when a tall man in the black Brunswick
uniform came galloping up to me from the rear, exclaiming, “Ah! mine
Gott!--mine Gott! vat is it you doos, sare? Dat is your friends
de Proosiens; an you kills dem! Ah, mine Gott!--mine Gott! vill
you no stop, sare?--vill you no stop? Ah! mine Gott!--mine Gott!
vat for is dis? De Inglish kills dere friends de Proosiens! Vere
is de Dook von Vellington?--vere is de Dook von Vellington? Oh,
mine Gott!--mine Gott!” &c. &c., and so he went on raving like one
demented. I observed that if these were our friends the Prussians
they were treating us very uncivilly; and that it was not without
sufficient provocation we had turned our guns on them, pointing out
to him at the same time the bloody proofs of my assertion. Apparently
not noticing what I said, he continued his lamentations, and, “Vill
you no stop, sare, I say?” Wherefore, thinking he might be right,
to pacify him I ordered the whole to cease firing, desiring him to
remark the consequences. _Psieu, psieu, psieu_, came our _friends’_
shot, one after another; and our friend himself had a narrow escape
from one of them. “Now, sir,” I said, “you will be convinced; and we
will continue our firing, whilst you can ride round the way you came,
and tell them they kill their friends the English; the moment their
fire ceases, so shall mine.” Still he lingered, exclaiming, “Oh, dis
is terreebly to see de Proosien and de Inglish kill vonanoder!” At
last darting off I saw no more of him.[24] The fire continued on both
sides, mine becoming slacker and slacker, for we were reduced to the
last extremity, and must have been annihilated but for the opportune
arrival of a battery of Belgic artillery a little on our left, which,
taking the others in flank nearly at point blank, soon silenced and
drove them off. We were so reduced that all our strength was barely
sufficient to load and fire three guns out of our six.
These Belgians were all beastly drunk, and, when they first came up,
not at all particular as to which way they fired; and it was only
by keeping an eye on them that they were prevented treating us, and
even one another. The wretches had probably already done mischief
elsewhere--who knows? My recollections of the latter part of this day
are rather confused; I was fatigued, and almost deaf. I recollect
clearly, however, that we had ceased firing--the plain below being
covered with masses of troops, which we could not distinguish from
each other. Captain Walcot of the horse-artillery had come to us, and
we were all looking out anxiously at the movements below and on the
opposite ridge, when he suddenly shouted out, “Victory!--victory!
they fly!--they fly!” and sure enough we saw some of the masses
dissolving, as it were, and those composing them streaming away in
confused crowds over the field, whilst the already desultory fire of
their artillery ceased altogether. I shall never forget this joyful
moment!--this moment of exultation! On looking round I found we were
left almost alone. Cavalry and infantry had all moved forward, and
only a few guns here and there were to be seen on the position. A
little to our right were the remains of Major M‘Donald’s troop under
Lieutenant Sandilands, which had suffered much, but nothing like us.
We were congratulating ourselves on the happy results of the day,
when an aide-de-camp rode up, crying “_Forward, sir!--forward! It is
of the utmost importance that this movement should be supported by
artillery!_” at the same time waving his hat much in the manner of a
huntsman laying on his dogs. I smiled at his energy, and, pointing to
the remains of my poor troop, quietly asked, “_How, sir?_” A glance
was sufficient to show him the impossibility, and away he went.
Our situation was indeed terrible: of 200 fine horses with which we
had entered the battle, upwards of 140 lay dead, dying, or severely
wounded. Of the men, scarcely two-thirds of those necessary for four
guns remained, and these so completely exhausted as to be totally
incapable of further exertion. Lieutenant Breton had three horses
killed under him; Lieutenant Hincks was wounded in the breast by a
spent ball; Lieutenant Leathes on the hip by a splinter; and although
untouched myself, my horse had no less than eight wounds, one of
which--a graze on the fetlock joint--lamed him for ever. Our guns
and carriages were, as before mentioned, altogether in a confused
heap, intermingled with dead and wounded horses, which it had not
been possible to disengage from them. My poor men, such at least as
were untouched, fairly worn out, their clothes, faces, &c., blackened
by the smoke and spattered over with mud and blood, had seated
themselves on the trails of the carriages, or had thrown themselves
on the wet and polluted soil, too fatigued to think of anything
but gaining a little rest. Such was our situation when called upon
to advance! It was impossible, and we remained where we were. For
myself, I was also excessively tired--hoarse, to making speech
painful, and deaf from the infernal uproar of the last eleven hours.
Moreover, I was devoured by a burning thirst, not a drop of liquid
having passed my lips since the evening of the 16th; but although,
with the exception of the chicken’s leg last night, I may be said to
have eaten nothing for two whole days, yet did I not feel the least
desire for food.
The evening had become fine, and but for an occasional groan or
lament from some poor sufferer, and the repeated piteous neighing
of wounded horses, tranquillity might be said to reign over the
field. As it got dusk, a large body of Prussian artillery arrived,
and formed their bivouac near us. There was not light to see more
of them than that their brass guns were kept bright, and that their
carriages were encumbered with baggage, and, besides, appeared but
clumsy machines when compared with ours. All wore their greatcoats,
which apparently they had marched in. As they looked at us rather
scowlingly, and did not seem inclined to hold any communication with
us, I soon returned to my own people, whom I found preparing to go
supperless to bed--the two remaining officers, the non-commissioned
officers and men having all got together in a heap, with some painted
covers spread under and others drawn over them--at a distance from
our guns, &c., the neighbourhood of which, they said, was too
horrible to think of sleeping there. For my part, after standing all
day amongst all these horrors, I felt no squeamishness about sleeping
amongst them; so pulling down the painted cover of a limber over
the footboard in the manner of a tent roof, I crept under it, and
endeavoured to sleep. The cramped situation in which I lay, and the
feverish excitement of my mind, forbade, however, my obtaining that
sound and refreshing sleep so much needed--I only dozed. From one
of these dozes I awoke about midnight, chilled and cramped to death
from the awkward doubled-up position imposed upon me by my short and
narrow bed. So up I got to look around and contemplate a battle-field
by the pale moonlight. The night was serene and pretty clear; a
few light clouds occasionally passing across the moon’s disc, and
throwing objects into transient obscurity, added considerably to the
solemnity of the scene. Oh, it was a thrilling sensation thus to
stand in the silent hour of the night and contemplate that field--all
day long the theatre of noise and strife, now so calm and still--the
actors prostrate on the bloody soil, their pale wan faces upturned to
the moon’s cold beams, which caps and breastplates, and a thousand
other things, reflected back in brilliant pencils of light from as
many different points! Here and there some poor wretch, sitting up
amidst the countless dead, busied himself in endeavours to stanch the
flowing stream with which his life was fast ebbing away. Many whom
I saw so employed that night were, when morning dawned, lying stiff
and tranquil as those who had departed earlier. From time to time
a figure would half raise itself from the ground, and then, with
a despairing groan, fall back again. Others, slowly and painfully
rising, stronger, or having less deadly hurt, would stagger away with
uncertain steps across the field in search of succour. Many of these
I followed with my gaze until lost in the obscurity of distance;
but many, alas! after staggering a few paces, would sink again on
the ground, probably to rise no more. It was heart-rending--and yet
I gazed! Horses, too, there were to claim our pity--mild, patient,
enduring. Some lay on the ground with their entrails hanging out, and
yet they lived. These would occasionally attempt to rise, but, like
their human bed-fellows, quickly falling back again, would lift their
poor heads, and, turning a wistful gaze at their side, lie quietly
down again, to repeat the same until strength no longer remained, and
then, their eyes gently closing, one short convulsive struggle closed
their sufferings. One poor animal excited painful interest--he had
lost, I believe, both his hind legs; and there he sat the long night
through on his tail, looking about, as if in expectation of coming
aid, sending forth, from time to time, long and protracted melancholy
neighing. Although I knew that killing him at once would be mercy, I
could not muster courage even to give the order. Blood enough I had
seen shed during the last six-and-thirty hours, and sickened at the
thought of shedding more. There, then, he still sat when we left the
ground, neighing after us, as if reproaching our desertion of him in
the hour of need.
The Prussian bivouac near at hand offered a far different and more
cheering scene. There all was life and movement. Their handsome
horses, standing harnessed and tied to the carriages, sent forth
neighings of another character. Dark forms moved amongst them; and
by the bivouac-fires sat figures that would have furnished studies
for a Salvator. Dark, brown, stern visages, rendered still sterner by
the long drooping mustache that overshadowed the mouth, from which
appended their constant companion, the pipe. Many there were, too,
busily occupied with the first great care of all animals--cooking,
or eating the mess already cooked. Save these I have mentioned,
no living being moved on the moon-lit field; and as I cast up my
eyes at the lustrous lamp of heaven, I thought on the thousand dear
connections far, far away, on whose peaceful dwelling it now looked
down, their inmates sleeping in tranquil security, ignorant as yet
of the fatal blow which had now for ever severed them from those
they loved, whose bodies encumbered the ground around me. And here,
even here, what a contrast between this charnel-house and the distant
landscape within my ken! Over it the same fair planet shed her mild
beams, illuminating its groves and yellow corn-fields, its still and
quiet villages, whose modest spires here and there arose from the
horizon--emblems of peace, tranquillity, and repose. Long I continued
to gaze on this sad and solemn scene; and all this slaughter, I said,
to gratify the ambition of one man, and that man--whom?--one who has
risen from a station humble as my own, has already devastated Europe,
and filled it with blood and mourning--who only recently left behind
him 400,000 gallant men, a prey to the sword and the intemperance of
a northern clime--fearful holocaust on the altar of that ambition!
At length I again crept into my cell, and again slept by fits and
starts, until the first blush of day reddened the eastern sky, and
aroused us all to new exertion. As I emerged from under my cover a
shudder crept over me, when the stronger light of day enabled me to
see the corpse of one of my drivers lying mangled and bloody beneath
my lair.