"Our colonel was a brave man, but there are moments when a well-timed

manœuvre is of more advantage than courage. The regiment stood on

the road with its front exactly to the enemy, and if the left wing

had been ordered forward, it could have sprung up the bank in line

and dashed forward on the enemy at once. Instead of this, the colonel

faced the right wing to its right, countermarched in rear of the

left, and when the leading rank cleared the left flank it was made

to file up the bank, and as soon as it made its appearance the shot,

shell, and musketry poured in with deadly destruction; and in this

exposed position we had to make a second countermarch, on purpose to

bring our front to the enemy. These movements consumed much time, and

by this unnecessary exposure exasperated the men to madness.

"The word 'Forward--double quick!' dispelled the gloom, and forward

we drove, in the face of apparent destruction. The field had been

lately rough ploughed or under fallow, and when a man fell he tripped

the one behind, thus the ranks were opening as we approached the

point whence all this hostile vengeance proceeded; but the rush

forward had received an impulse from desperation, 'the spring of

the men's patience had been strained until ready to snap, and when

left to the freedom of its own extension, ceased not to act until

the point to which it was directed was attained.' In a minute

every obstacle was surmounted; the enemy fled as we leaped over

the trenches and mounds like a pack of noisy hounds in pursuit,

frightening them more by our wild hurrahs than actually hurting them

by ball or bayonet.

"The redoubt thus obtained consisted of an old country farm cottage,

the lower part of its walls stone, the upper part mud or clay. It

stood in the corner of what had been a garden, having one door to a

road or broad lane, and another to the garden; the whole forming a

square which had been lately fortified on three sides by a deep but

dry trench, from which the earth had been cast inwards, and formed a

considerable bank, sloping inwards, but presenting a perpendicular

face of layers of green turf outwards. The cottage served as a

temporary magazine, and the mound or embankment as a cover to the

enemy from the fire of our troops; and from this place our men had

been dreadfully cut down.

"It cannot be for an instant supposed that all this could have been

effected without very much deranging our ranks, and as the enemy had

still a powerful force, and other works commanding this, time would

not permit of particularity, and a brisk independent fire was kept

up with more noise than good effect by our small groups upon our not

yet defeated enemy. Our muskets were getting useless by the frequent

discharges, and several of the men were having recourse to the French

pieces that lay scattered about, but they had been as freely used

as our own, and were equally unserviceable. Our number of effective

hands was also decreasing, and that of the again approaching foe

seemed irresistible.

"Two officers (Captain Campbell and Lieutenant Young) and about sixty

of inferior rank were all that now remained without a wound of the

right wing of the regiment that entered the field in the morning.

The flag was hanging in tatters, and stained with the blood of

those who had fallen over it. The standard cut in two, had been

successively placed in the hands of three officers, who fell as we

advanced; it was now borne by a sergeant, while the few remaining

soldiers who rallied around it, defiled with mire, sweat, smoke, and

blood, stood ready to oppose with the bayonet the advancing column,

the front files of which were pouring in destructive showers of

musketry among our confused ranks. To have disputed the post with

such overwhelming numbers, would have been the hazarding the loss of

our colours, and could serve no general interest to our army, as we

stood between the front of our advancing support and the enemy; we

were therefore ordered to retire. The greater number passed through

the cottage, now filled with wounded and dying, and leaped from the

door that was over the road into the trench of the redoubt, among the

killed and wounded.

"We were now between two fires of musketry, the enemy to our left

and rear, the 79th and left wing of our own regiment in our front.

Fortunately, the intermediate space did not exceed a hundred paces,

and our safe retreat depended upon the speed with which we could

perform it. We rushed along like a crowd of boys pursuing the

bounding ball to its distant limit, and in an instant plunged into a

trench that had been cut across the road; the balls were whistling

amongst us and over us; while those in front were struggling to get

out, those behind were holding them fast for assistance, and we

became firmly wedged together, until a horse without a rider came

plunging down on the heads and bayonets of those in his way; they on

whom he fell were drowned or smothered, and the gap thus made gave

way for the rest to get out.

"The right wing of the regiment, thus broken down and in

disorder, was rallied by Captain Campbell (afterwards brevet

lieutenant-colonel) and the adjutant (Lieutenant Young) on a narrow

road, the steep banks of which served as a cover from the showers of

grape that swept over our heads.

"In this contest, besides our colonel, who was wounded as he gave the

word of command, 'Forward,' the regiment lost, in killed and wounded,

twenty officers, one sergeant-major, and four hundred and thirty-six

of inferior rank.

"Meantime the Portuguese brigade was ordered to take possession of

the evacuated redoubt, which was accomplished with little loss, for

the enemy had been backward of entering, lest we might have been

drawing them into an ambush, or had an intention of blowing up the

cottage, in which a considerable quantity of loose cartridges had

been left near a large fire by themselves when they were driven out,

and most likely intended for that purpose against us, but we had

removed the whole to a place of less danger.

"Thus far the left flank of our army was secured; the Spaniards,

farther to the right, were making good their advances, our artillery

was about getting posted on commanding eminences, while only one

battery remained on the western summit in the enemy's possession, and

before sunset it was stormed also, and all the heights overlooking

Toulouse remained in our possession."

As soon as the fight is over Anton proceeds to mount the pulpit and

deliver himself of a homily on the night-scene after a battle, which

may be usefully abridged:--

"Night after battle is always glorious to the undisputed victors, and

whatever the loss may have been, the idea of it seems to be banished

from our thoughtless minds. Here, however, by the first early dawning

of the morning, let us more seriously cast our eye over this scene

of slaughter, where the blood of the commander and the commanded mix

indiscriminately together over the field.

"Here lies many a gallant soldier, whose name or fame will never pass

to another generation; yet the annals of our country will do justice

to the general merit of the whole; from my feeble pen no lasting fame

can be expected; time blots it out as I write; and even were I to

attempt to pass an eulogy it might be considered contemptible from so

humble an individual, by those who survive and witnessed the action.

"I trust I shall not be considered egotistical in saying that I had

some narrow escapes this day; but what soldier entered the field and

came safe out of it had not narrow escapes? A musket-ball struck my

halberd in line with my cheek, another passed between my arm and my

side, and lodged in my knapsack, another struck the handle of my

sword, and a fourth passed through my bonnet and knocked it off my

head; had the ball been two inches lower, or I that much higher, the

reader would have been saved the trouble of perusing this narrative.

The company in which I was doing duty lost four officers, three

sergeants, and forty-seven rank and file, in killed and wounded. The

officers were:--Lieutenant D. M'Kenzie severely wounded, Lieutenants

Farquharson and Watson mortally wounded, and Ensign Latta killed.

"There was one officer of the regiment taken prisoner this day: he

had lately joined us from the 1st Royals, in which he had been cadet,

and had not the uniform of the regiment; but his deficiency of the

uniform betrayed no lack of personal courage; the charm of the bonnet

and plume, though wanting, did not make him less the soldier; he

fell, wounded, near to Lieutenant Farquharson, at the side of the

redoubt, as we entered it, and when we fell back he was made prisoner.

"I have already mentioned that before the regiment advanced to storm

the redoubt, we were posted on the main road that passes over the

heights. During the short time we were in that position we had orders

not to raise our heads above the bank, nor let the enemy see where

we were posted. Notwithstanding this prohibition, our sergeant-major,

as brave a man as ever entered a field, was despatched from the

right flank to warn those on the left to comply with this order,

for several were rising up occasionally and sending a bullet at the

enemy, and thus, perhaps, defeating the intention of the order. He

went, but though cautioned to stoop as he proceeded, he considered

this unmanly, and never did he walk with a more upright dauntless

carriage of the body or a firmer step: it was his last march; a

bullet pierced his brain and stretched him lifeless, without a sigh.

"There was a man of the name of Wighton in the regiment, a grumbling,

discontented, disaffected sort of a character. He was one of the

men attached to the tent placed under my charge on joining the

regiment. Some men take all for the best; not so with Wighton, he

took everything for the worst; indeed, his very countenance indicated

something malignant, misanthropical, and even sottish in his

disposition. He was a low, thick, squat fellow, with a dark yellowish

swarthy complexion, and his broad face bore a strong resemblance to

that of a Calmuc Tartar. As he rushed along the field his front-rank

man exclaimed, 'God Almighty preserve us, this is dreadful!' 'You be

d--d,' Wighton replied, 'you have been importuning God Almighty this

half-dozen of years, and it would be no wonder although He were to

knock you down at last for troubling him so often; as for myself,

I do not believe there is one; if there were, He would never have

brought us here!' The last word hung unfinished on his tongue; the

messenger of death sealed his lips in everlasting silence.

"The contest that raged upwards of an hour around the redoubt, of

which we had gained possession, was maintained without much regard

to order or strict discipline; in short, it was rather tumultuary.

Every man was sensible of the necessity of having order restored,

but thought himself the only orderly man of all the rest, and his

voice was heard over that of his commander calling out 'Form up.' In

the meantime, his own attention was more engaged in keeping in the

crowd, to load his piece, and afterwards pushing forward, to send a

bullet to the enemy as often as he possibly could load and discharge,

than attending to formation.

"A Grenadier of the 79th Regiment, for both regiments (the 42nd

and 79th) were somewhat intermixed, rushed forward, discharged his

piece with effect, and suddenly turning the musket so as to grasp

the muzzle, dealt deadly blows around him; he fell, grasping one of

the enemy in one hand, and the broken firelock in the other. Another

sprung up on the top of the bank, called on his comrades to follow,

and with a loud cheer, in which many joined that did not follow, he

rushed forward in the same manner as his brave companion had done,

and like him shared a similar fate.

"It is only in this disorganised kind of conflict that individual

courage may best act and best be seen. In united, orderly movements,

the whole acquires the praise; and in this each individual is

comprised, and proud of contributing his part to the honour of his

corps, does his duty without attempting those feats of romantic

daring which ancient historians record, but which modern tactics

render nugatory or almost useless. Individual daring is lost in

orderly movements."

CHAPTER IV

THE 42ND AT QUATRE BRAS

The return of Napoleon from Elba found the 42nd on duty in Ireland.

But when Great Britain was pouring her choicest troops into the

Netherlands, in readiness for the last great struggle, so famous a

regiment as the 42nd could not be left behind. The regiment embarked

at Cork on May 4, 1815, for Ostend, and thence marched in leisurely

fashion to Brussels.

Anton discovers quite a new justification for the Duchess of Richmond's

famous ball, which will live in history longer than any other ball at

which men and maidens ever danced. He says:--

"On the night of June 15, we were roused from our peaceful slumbers

by the sounding of bugles, the rolling of drums, and the loud notes

of our Highland bagpipes, which threw their wild, warlike strains

on the midnight breeze, to awaken the plaided sons of Caledonia to

arms. Until daybreak of the 16th we stood to our arms on the streets

of Brussels, and here we were served out with four days' provisions

for each man. The grand ball was broken up, and our Highland dancers,

who had been invited to display their active movements before the

assembled lords, ladies, and military chieftains, were sent to their

respective regiments to prepare for other sport--that of glorious

battle.

"I have heard some passing animadversions upon our great commander,

for thus passing away time upon the eve of so momentous an affair

as that about to take place. I think, as a soldier, and one who was

on the spot, I have as good a right to give my opinion concerning it

as any of those croaking politicians who were hundreds of miles from

the scene of operations; and in giving my opinion, I give it as that

of every soldier who was in Brussels at the time, and I believe we

are not the worst judges of what is most likely to forward a ready

assembling, or a speedy concentration of the troops, in order to

attain the end in view.

"Owing to this general assembly of all our principal officers, the

Duke had not only all his personal staff about him, but that of

the generals under his command. They, again, had around them all

the commanding officers of corps, to whom they could personally

communicate their orders. The unusually late hour at which the

despatches from the scene of hostilities had arrived, and the

information respecting the intended movements of our allies, in

consequence of their having unexpectedly had to retreat from the

bravely contested field, might have changed all our commander's

plans. If this should have been the case, he had all those about him

to whom he could communicate his designs, without passing hours at

the desk, and sending orderlies off to the quarters of officers in a

city, the language of whose inhabitants was foreign to us. All this

trouble, happily for us and for Britain, was saved by this fortunate

ball."

Quatre Bras was not the least perilous of Wellington's battles. Ney's

onfall took the Iron Duke by surprise, and that Quatre Bras was not

a British defeat was due as much to Ney's blunders in attack as to

Wellington's fine skill in defence, and to the magnificent courage

of his troops. Ney could, with ease, have thrown 40,000 men into the

fight. Wellington, at the beginning of the battle, had in hand only

7000 Dutch-Belgian troops, with seventeen guns. Picton's division only

reached the field in the afternoon, having started on their long march

from Brussels at five o'clock in the morning. Later, reinforcements

came trickling in, till, just as night was darkening, the Guards

reached the scene of action.

But the British came up in fragments, and at remote intervals of time.

Wellington had very inefficient artillery, and no horsemen; and a fight

under such conditions might well have gone wrong. Fortunately, Ney left

half his forces out of the fight, and attacked with 20,000 instead of

overwhelming the British with 40,000.

The Highland regiments formed Pack's brigade. They came up almost

exhausted with their long march, and were flung hurriedly into the

strife. The 42nd, in particular, fared very badly. In the whirl and

passion of the fight it changed commanders no less than four times in

little more than as many minutes. But disaster itself could hardly

shake the ranks of the veterans of the Peninsula. Here is Anton's

description of Quatre Bras. It gives a most spirited account of the

struggle betwixt horsemen and infantry:--

"On the morning of June 16, before the sun rose over the dark forest

of Soignes, our brigade, consisting of the 1st, 44th, and 92nd

Regiments, stood in column, Sir Denis Pack at its head, waiting

impatiently for the 42nd, the commanding officer of which was chidden

severely by Sir Denis for being so dilatory. We took our place in the

column, and the whole marched off to the strains of martial music,

and amidst the shouts of the surrounding multitude. We passed through

the ancient gate of the city, and hundreds left it in health and high

spirits who before night were lifeless corpses on the field to which

they were hastening.

"As we entered the forest of Soignes, our stream of ranks following

ranks, in successive sections, moved on in silent but speedy course,

like some river confined between two equal banks. The forest is of

immense extent, and we continued to move on under its welcome shade

until we came to a small hamlet, or auberge, embosomed in the wood to

the right of the road. Here we turned to our left, halted, and were

in the act of lighting fires on purpose to set about cooking. We were

flattering ourselves that we were to rest there until next day; for

whatever reports had reached the ears of our commanders, no alarm had

yet rung on ours. Some were stretched under the shade to rest; others

sat in groups draining the cup, and we always loved a large one,

and it was now almost emptied of three days' allowance of spirits,

a greater quantity than was usually served out at once to us on a

campaign; others were busily occupied in bringing water and preparing

the camp-kettles, for we were of the opinion, as I have already said,

that we were to halt there for the day.

"But, 'Hark! a gun!' one exclaims; every ear is set to catch the

sound, and every mouth seems half opened, as if to supersede the

faithless ear that doubts of hearing. Again another and another

feebly floats through the forest. Every ear now catches the sound,

and every man grasps his musket. The distant report of the guns

becomes more loud, and our march is urged on with greater speed.

Quatre Bras appears in view; the frightened peasantry come running

breathless and panting along the way. We move on to the left of the

road, behind a gently rising eminence, form column of companies,

regardless of the growing crop, and ascend the rising ground; a

beautiful plain appears in view, surrounded with belts of wood, and

the main road from Brussels runs through it.

"We now descended to the plain by an echelon movement towards our

right, halted on the road (from which we had lately diverged to the

left), formed in line, fronting a bank on the right side, whilst

the other regiments took up their position to right and left, as

directed by our general. A luxuriant crop of grain hid from our view

the contending skirmishers beyond, and presented a considerable

obstacle to our advance. We were in the act of lying down by the

side of the road, in our usual careless manner, as we were wont when

enjoying a rest on the line of march, some throwing back their heads

on their knapsacks, intending to take a sleep, when General Pack came

galloping up, and chid the colonel for not having the bayonets fixed.

This roused our attention, and the bayonets were instantly on the

pieces.

"There is something animating to a soldier in the clash of the fixing

bayonet; more particularly so when it is thought that the scabbard is

not to receive it until it drinks the blood of its foe.

"Our pieces were loaded, and perhaps never did a regiment in the

field seem so short taken. We were all ready and in line--'Forward!'

was the word of command, and forward we hastened, though we saw no

enemy in front. The stalks of the rye, like the reeds that grow on

the margin of some swamp, opposed our advance; the tops were up to

our bonnets, and we strode and groped our way through as fast as we

could. By the time we reached a field of clover on the other side we

were very much straggled; however, we united in line as fast as time

and our speedy advance would permit. The Belgic skirmishers retired

through our ranks, and in an instant we were on their victorious

pursuers.

"Our sudden appearance seemed to paralyse their advance. The singular

appearance of our dress, combined, no doubt, with our sudden début,

tended to stagger their resolution: we were on them, our pieces were

loaded, and our bayonets glittered, impatient to drink their blood.

Those who had so proudly driven the Belgians before them, turned

now to fly, whilst our loud cheers made the fields echo to our wild

hurrahs.

"We drove on so fast that we almost appeared like a mob following

the rout of some defeated faction. Marshal Ney, who commanded the

enemy, observed our wild unguarded zeal, and ordered a regiment of

lancers to bear down upon us. We saw their approach at a distance,

as they issued from a wood, and took them for Brunswickers coming

to cut up the flying infantry; and as cavalry on all occasions have

the advantage of retreating foot, on a fair field, we were halted in

order to let them take their way; they were approaching our right

flank, from which our skirmishers were extended, and we were far

from being in a formation fit to repel an attack, if intended, or to

afford regular support to our friends if requiring our aid. I think

we stood with too much confidence, gazing towards them as if they had

been our friends, anticipating the gallant charge they would make on

the flying foe, and we were making no preparative movement to receive

them as enemies, further than the reloading of the muskets, until a

German orderly dragoon galloped up, exclaiming, 'Franchee! Franchee!'

and, wheeling about, galloped off.

"We instantly formed a rallying square; no time for particularity;

every man's piece was loaded, and our enemies approached at full

charge; the feet of their horses seemed to tear up the ground. Our

skirmishers having been impressed with the same opinion that these

were Brunswick cavalry, fell beneath their lances, and few escaped

death or wounds; our brave colonel fell at this time, pierced through

the chin until the point of the lance reached the brain. Captain

(now Major) Menzies fell, covered with wounds, and a momentary

conflict took place over him; he was a powerful man, and, hand to

hand, more than a match for six ordinary men. The Grenadiers, whom he

commanded, pressed round to save or avenge him, but fell beneath the

enemies' lances.

"Of all descriptions of cavalry, certainly the lancers seem the

most formidable to infantry, as the lance can be projected with

considerable precision, and with deadly effect, without bringing the

horse to the point of the bayonet; and it was only by the rapid and

well-directed fire of musketry that these formidable assailants were

repulsed.

"Colonel Dick [who afterwards fell at Sobraon] assumed the command on

the fall of Sir Robert Macara, and was severely wounded. Brevet-Major

Davidson succeeded, and was mortally wounded; to him succeeded

Brevet-Major Campbell (now lieutenant-colonel on the unattached

list). Thus, in a few minutes, we had been placed under four

different commanding officers.

"An attempt was now made to form us in line; for we stood mixed in

one irregular mass--grenadier, light, and battalion companies--a

noisy group; such is the inevitable consequence of a rapid succession

of commanders. Our covering sergeants were called out on purpose that

each company might form on the right of its sergeant; an excellent

plan had it been adopted, but a cry arose that another charge of

cavalry was approaching, and this plan was abandoned. We now formed

a line on the left of the Grenadiers, while the cavalry that had

been announced were cutting through the ranks of the 69th Regiment.

Meantime the other regiments to our right and left, suffered no

less than we; the superiority of the enemy in cavalry afforded him

a decided advantage on the open plain, for our British cavalry and

artillery had not yet reached the field.

"We were at this time about two furlongs past the farm of Quatre

Bras, as I suppose, and a line of French infantry was about the same

distance from us in front, and we had commenced firing at that line,

when we were ordered to form square to oppose cavalry. General

Pack was at our head, and Major Campbell commanded the regiment.

We formed square in an instant; in the centre were several wounded

French soldiers witnessing our formation round them; they doubtless

considered themselves devoted to certain death among us seeming

barbarians, but they had no occasion to speak ill of us afterwards;

for as they were already incapable of injuring us, we moved about

them regardful of their wounds and suffering.

"Our last file had got into square, and into its proper place, so far

as unequalised companies could form a square, when the cuirassiers

dashed full on two of its faces; their heavy horses and steel armour

seemed sufficient to bury us under them, had they been pushed forward

on our bayonets.

"A moment's pause ensued; it was the pause of death. General Pack was

on the right angle of the front face of the square, and he lifted his

hat towards the French officer, as he was wont to do when returning

a salute. I suppose our assailants construed our forbearance as an

indication of surrendering; a false idea; not a blow had been struck

nor a musket levelled, but when the general raised his hat, it served

as a signal, though not a preconcerted one, but entirely accidental;

for we were doubtful whether our officer commanding was protracting

the order, waiting for the general's command, as he was present. Be

this as it may, a most destructive fire was opened; riders cased in

heavy armour, fell tumbling from their horses; the horses reared,

plunged, and fell on the dismounted riders; steel helmets and

cuirasses rang against unsheathed sabres as they fell to the ground;

shrieks and groans of men, the neighing of horses, and the discharge

of musketry, rent the air, as men and horses mixed together in one

heap of indiscriminate slaughter. Those who were able to fly, fled

towards a wood on our right, whence they had issued to the attack,

and which seemed to afford an extensive cover to an immense reserve

not yet brought into action.

"Once more clear of these formidable and daring assailants we formed

line, examined our ammunition boxes, and found them getting empty.

Our officer commanding pointed towards the pouches of our dead and

dying comrades, and from them a sufficient supply was obtained. We

lay down behind the gentle rise of a trodden-down field of grain, and

enjoyed a few minutes' rest to our wearied limbs; but not in safety

from the flying messengers of death, the whistling music of which was

far from lulling us to sleep.

"Afternoon was now far spent, and we were resting in line, without

having equalised the companies, for this would have been extremely

dangerous in so exposed a position, for the field afforded no cover,

and we were in advance of the other regiments. The enemy were at no

great distance, and, I may add, firing very actively upon us. We

had wasted a deal of ammunition this day, and surely to very little

effect, otherwise every one of our adversaries must have bled before

this time. Our commanding officer cautioned us against this useless

expenditure, and we became a little more economical.

"Our position being, as I have already observed, without any cover

from the fire of the enemy, we were commanded to retire to the rear

of the farm, where we took up our bivouac on the field for the

night. The day's contest at a close, our attention was directed to

the casualties which had occurred in our ranks. We had lost, in

killed, one colonel, one lieutenant, one ensign, one sergeant-major,

two sergeants, and forty-eight rank and file. One brevet

lieutenant-colonel, five captains, five lieutenants, two ensigns,

fourteen sergeants, one drummer, and two hundred and fourteen rank

and file composed our list of wounded. Six privates fell into the

enemy's hands; among these was a little lad (Smith Fyfe) about five

feet high. The French general, on seeing this diminutive-looking lad,

is said to have lifted him up by the collar or breech and exclaimed

to the soldiers who were near him, 'Behold the sample of the men

of whom you seem afraid!' This lad returned a few days afterwards,

dressed in the clothing of a French Grenadier, and was saluted by the

name of Napoleon, which he retained until he was discharged.

"The night passed off in silence: no fires were lit, every man lay

down in rear of his arms, and silence was enjoined for the night.

Round us lay the dying and the dead, the latter not yet interred, and

many of the former, wishing to breathe their last where they fell,

slept to death with their heads on the same pillow on which those who

had to toil through the future fortunes of the field reposed."

CHAPTER V

THE HIGHLANDERS AT WATERLOO

Anton's account of the retreat from Quatre Bras to Waterloo, of the

camp on the historic ridge through the falling rains and blackness of

the night before the great battle, and of the tumult and passion, the

perils and the triumph, of the memorable day, has many merits. But it

is marred by a perfect paroxysm of apostrophes to posterity, to the

spirits of the fallen, to freedom, to all sorts of more or less heroic

and non-existent abstractions. In describing the struggle in which he

was a microscopic and almost nameless actor, Anton feels it necessary

to mount on the tallest literary stilts available, and walking on

stilts is not usually a very graceful performance. Anton's account

of the battle, in a word, recalls the famous description of a Scotch

haggis. It contains much good substance, but in a very confused and

planless state. His story, indeed, only becomes intelligible by virtue

of generous omissions. Here is Anton's tale of the march from Quatre

Bras:--

"On the morning of the 17th the unclouded heavens began to present

the approach of day, our usual signal to rise from our sky-canopied

bed. We started to arms and took up a new line on the field, facing

our yet silent foe. Here, after arranging our ranks and equalising

the companies, we piled our arms, and commenced to prepare our

yesterday's dinner, which served us for an excellent breakfast.

"The men not thus engaged were now busily employed in burying the

dead, and those who had been attending the wounded in the adjoining

houses had not neglected the interest of their respective messes.

Besides our own allowances of meat which we had brought from

Brussels, there was not a mess without a turkey, goose, duck, or fowl

floating in the seething kettle; and an abundance of vegetables from

the neighbouring gardens helped to add to the richness of the soup

which was preparing, and which we got good time to take, and for this

we were truly thankful, for we were very hungry.

"A passing fog hung over the plain a short time, but soon

disappeared, and left us with a cloudless sky. A general retrograde

movement now took place, and we retired on the main road by which we

had advanced from Brussels.

"It was with regret that many of us left that field, on which some of

our men lay breathing their last. Among this number was a young man

whose wound was in his forehead, from which the brain protruded. In

this state he had lain on the field during the night; his eyes were

open, with a death film over them; two of his comrades were watching

the last throb of his expiring breath before they would consign his

body to the grave, already opened to receive it, when the call to

arms made us leave him on the field to the hands of strangers.

"The sun shone brightly on our arms as we left the fields of Quatre

Bras, and passed the farms round which the remains of some thousands

of brave men, British, Brunswick, Belgic, and French, were interred;

and many yet lay scattered over the fields, and may have remained

hidden amidst the grain which still continued standing, until the

sickle or the scythe laid the fields bare.

"The enemy did not as yet seem to notice our movement, and we

continued our march until we had passed the village, half-way to

Waterloo. Here we turned off the road to our right, formed in

columns, and halted; and, short as that halt was, it afforded time

for one of our regiments to hold a drum-head court-martial and

carry the sentence into effect on the spot. Examples of this kind

are absolutely necessary, whatever philanthropists may say to the

contrary. They tend to preserve regularity, order, and discipline;

and although an individual may suffer a punishment which is debasing

and cruel, yet it is better that this should be awarded and inflicted

than to see hundreds fall victims to the rapacity that might ensue

from not timely visiting the aggressor with punishment.

"We had now attained the undulating height of Mont St. Jean, and

Wellington said, 'We shall retire no farther.' The thunder ceased to

roll its awful peals through the heavens, the thick embodied clouds

deployed, spread wide, and half dissolved in drizzly mist, but, as if

doubtful of man's resolves, resumed again their threatening aspect,

as if to secure our halt."

At Waterloo Sir Denis Pack's brigade--the 1st, 42nd, 44th, and

92nd--formed part of Picton's division, and held the line immediately

to the left of the great Brussels road. It was on this part of

Wellington's battle-front that Napoleon launched his first great

infantry attack--D'Erlon's corps, four close-massed columns--over

13,000 bayonets in all--with the fire of seventy-four guns sweeping the

path in their front as with a besom of flame.

The story of how Picton's slender lines met this mighty onfall, shook

the French columns into retreat with actual bayonet push, and how the

Life Guards, Inniskillings, and Greys swept down the slope and utterly

wrecked D'Erlon's swaying battalions is one of the most dramatic

passages in the story of the famous day.

Anton's account of the night before Waterloo is graphic:--

"Our lines now formed behind the long-extended ridge of Mont St.

Jean, having the village of Waterloo a mile or two in our rear, and

at no less a distance the dark forest of Soignes, which extends

to Brussels. The right of our front British line extended beyond

Hougoumont as far as Merke Braine; the left is said to have extended

to Wavre! Sir T. Picton's division consisted of the 28th, 32nd, 79th,

and the 95th (rifle corps), under the command of Sir James Kempt; and

the 1st, 42nd, 44th, and 92nd Regiments, under the command of Sir

Denis Pack, extended from the left of the Brussels road to a copse

on a rising ground which probably overlooked the whole field. The

extensive farm-houses and offices of La Haye Sainte were to the right

of the division, but in front and on the right side of the road.

"Before us was a line of Belgic and Dutch troops; a narrow road,

lined with stunted quickset hedges, runs between this line of

foreigners (or I may, with more justice, say natives) and us. This

road commands a view of the enemy's position, and the side next to us

is the artillery's post; the hedges in front form a feeble cover from

the enemy's view, but no defence against his shot, shell, or musketry.

"Our line, being on the slope next to Waterloo, was hidden from the

enemy, who took up his position on the heights of La Belle Alliance,

parallel to those of St. Jean: a valley corresponding to those wavy

heights on either side divides the two armies, a distance of about

half a musket-shot intervening between the adverse fronts.

"We piled our arms, kindled fires, and stood round the welcome blaze

to warm ourselves and dry our dripping clothes. Midnight approached,

and all the fields towards the artillery's post were hid in darkness,

save what the fitful gleams of our fires cast over them. Silence

prevailed, and wet although we were, we were falling asleep sitting

round the fires or stretched on scattered branches brought for fuel.

At this time a very heavy shower poured down upon us, and occasioned

some movement or noisy murmur in the French army or line of Belgians.

This induced our sentries to give an alarm. In an instant each man

of the brigade stood by his musket; the bayonets were already on the

pieces, and these all loaded, notwithstanding the rain. We stood thus

to our arms for nearly an hour, sinking to our ankles amongst the

soft muddy soil of the field, when the alarm was found to be false,

and we again sat or lay down to repose.

"Long-looked-for day at last began to break; we stood to our useless

arms for a few minutes, and then began to examine their contents.

The powder was moistened in the piece and completely washed out of

the pan. The shots were drawn, muskets sponged out, locks oiled, and

everything put to rights."

Anton's description of the actual on-coming of the French and of the

charge of the Greys is in his worst style; turgid, windy, unreal. Yet

it is the story of a man who actually plied 'Brown Bess' in the central

passion of the fight, and ran in with levelled bayonet on D'Erlon's

Grenadiers, and cheered the gallant Greys as they rode past on their

famous charge. Had Anton told his tale with the prosaic simplicity

of De Foe or the stern realism of Swift, we might have had a battle

picture memorable in literature. As it is, we must be thankful for

small mercies. The present reader at least shall be spared Anton's

incessant apostrophes:--

"Now, on our right, Napoleon urged on his heavy columns, while a

like movement was made against our left. The guns opened their

war-breathing mouths in thundering peals, and all along the ridge of

Mont St. Jean arose one dense cloud of smoke.

"France now pushed forward on the line of our Belgic allies, drove

them from their post, and rolled them in one promiscuous mass of

confusion through the ranks of our brigade, which instantly advanced

to repel the pursuers, who came pushing on in broken disorder, in the

eagerness of pursuit, till obstructed by the hedge and narrow road,

while a like obstruction presented itself to us on the other side.

We might have forced ourselves through as the Belgians had done,

but our bare thighs had no protection from the piercing thorns; and

doubtless those runaways had more wisdom in shunning death, though at

the hazard of laceration, than we would have shown in rushing forward

upon it in disorder, with self-inflicted torture. The foe beheld

our front and paused; a sudden terror seized his flushed ranks. We

were in the act of breaking through the hedge, when our general gave

orders to open our ranks. In an instant our cavalry passed through,

leaped both hedges, and plunged on the panic-stricken foe. 'Scotland

for ever!' burst from the mouth of each Highlander as the Scots Greys

pass through our ranks.

"What pen can describe the scene? Horses' hoofs sinking in men's

breasts. Riders' swords streaming in blood, waving over their heads,

and descending in deadly vengeance. Stroke follows stroke, like

the turning of a flail in the hand of a dexterous thresher; the

living stream gushes red from the ghastly wound. There the piercing

shrieks and dying groans; here the loud cheering of an exulting army,

animating the slayers to deeds of signal vengeance upon a daring foe.

It was a scene of vehement destruction, yells and shrieks, wounds

and death; and the bodies of the dead served as pillows for the dying.

"A thousand prisoners are driven in before our cavalry as they

return over the corpse-strewn field, and the loud shouts of ten

thousand soldiers welcome the victors back. But long and loud are the

enthusiastic cheerings of the proud Highlanders as they greet the

gallant Greys' approach. 'Glory of Scotland!' bursts spontaneously

from the mouth of each Highlander, while rending shouts of 'England!'

or 'Ireland!' welcome the 1st and Inniskilling Dragoons, and echo

along the lines. This dreadful charge made by our cavalry in our

immediate front gave an impulse bordering on enthusiasm to our

spirits that nothing could depress. But the enemy, as if dreading

more than common opposition at this spot, forbore to press upon it

during the remaining part of the day.

"The right and left both sustained the impetuous onset of Napoleon's

cavalry, and these on each occasion met with powerful opposition,

and were driven back in wild confusion. But on the right and centre

he seems to urge his greatest force throughout the whole day. La

Haye Sainte is one pool of blood; against it Napoleon's artillery

incessantly play, and columns of infantry are urged on to drive

the brave defenders out. But these meet them with fire and steel,

and repel them with determined resolution. Here a never-ceasing

combat rages throughout the day, and forms an interesting object in

the general picture of the field. Hougoumont is no less a scene of

slaughter; there, every effort is made to obtain possession and to

break in upon our right wing. Sometimes in the heat of a charge they

rush past its bounds, but meet with wounds or death as they fly back;

for it is only when the enemy occasionally pursues his apparently

victorious course beyond his lines and past our guns that he gets a

view of our columns or lines of infantry, which immediately take

advantage of his disordered front, and drive him back, with immense

loss, beyond our guns and down the descent; they then retire to their

well-chosen ground and send out a company or two of skirmishers from

each regiment to keep up a never-ceasing fire, save when driven back

on their respective columns in those repeated charges.

"The sun, as he hastens down, bursts through the hazy clouds and

gleams in brightness over the long-contested field. It is the setting

sun of Napoleon's greatness.

"The loss of the regiment this day was trifling, if compared with

that which it sustained on the 16th at Quatre Bras: we had only six

men killed; one captain, three lieutenants, and thirty-three rank and

file wounded. Brussels, which had been kept in a state of excitement

since the night of the 15th, heard the glad tidings of the result

of the battle, and the doors were opened wide for the reception of

the bleeding soldiers, who had been conveyed thither on waggons or

had dragged their maimed limbs along the way without assistance. The

poor women, who had been forced back to the rear of the army when the

battle commenced, were hurried amidst the mingled mass of fugitives,

panic-struck batmen, mules, horses, and cattle, back to the gates of

Brussels; but on entering, found no friendly hand stretched out to

take them off the streets.

"Night passes over the groaning field of Waterloo, and morning gives

its early light to the survivors of the battle to return to the

heights of St. Jean, on purpose to succour the wounded or bury the

dead. Here may be seen the dismounted gun, the wheels of the carriage

half sunk in the mire; the hand of the gunner rests on the nave, his

body half-buried in a pool of blood, and his eyes open to heaven,

whither his spirit has already fled. Here are spread, promiscuously,

heaps of mangled bodies--some without head, or arms, or legs: others

lie stretched naked, their features betraying no mark of violent

suffering.

"The population of Brussels, prompted by a justifiable curiosity,

approach the field to see the remains of the strangers who fell

to save their spoil-devoted city, and to pick up some fragment as

a memorial of the battle, or as a relic for other days. Of these

the field affords an abundant harvest; cuirasses, helmets, medals,

swords, pistols, and all the various weapons of destruction in

military use, besides the balls and bullets, which may be ploughed up

a thousand years hence. Here also are hundreds of blankets, ripped-up

knapsacks, torn shirts, stockings, and all the simple contents of

the fallen soldiers' kits. Letters and memoranda of the slain strew

the field in every direction, which are picked up by the curious and

carefully preserved."

IV

WITH THE GUNS AT WATERLOO

IV.--WITH THE GUNS AT WATERLOO

Mercer, the author of the "Journal of the Waterloo Campaign," came of

a soldierly stock. His father belonged to the Royal Engineers, served

on the staff of Sir Henry Clinton in the American War of Independence,

and rose to the rank of general. Cavalie Mercer, with whose book we are

concerned, was born in 1783, passed through the Military Academy at

Woolwich, obtained a commission in the artillery at sixteen, and had

not reached the retired list when he died at the age of eighty-five.

But though his career as a soldier was long and honourable, it

cannot--except for the three great days of Quatre Bras and Waterloo--be

called very inspiring.

Mercer's first military service was in Ireland at the time of the

rebellion. War is always hateful, but its blackest form is civil war.

Mercer was next unfortunate enough to take part in the most ignoble

expedition known to British arms--Whitelocke's shameful and unhappy

performance at Buenos Ayres. This was the worst school imaginable for

a young soldier, but Mercer had fine military gifts, and though he was

shut out from the Peninsular campaigns, when he made his appearance

on the field of Waterloo he showed himself to be an artillery officer

of very fine quality--cool, skilful, and gallant. He served after the

peace in North America, and commanded the artillery in Nova Scotia in

the troubled days of the Maine boundary-line dispute, when it seemed

likely that England and the United States would drift into war.

Mercer's long military career found its climax in the three memorable

days of June 16-18, 1815; and the splendours and terrors, the bloodshed

and the triumph of those mighty battles are vividly reflected in his

pages.

CHAPTER I

WAITING FOR THE GUNS

Mercer held the rank of second captain only in troop G, but Sir

Alexander Dickson, whose troop it was, being employed on other duties,

Mercer was in actual command. It was a fine troop, perfect in drill,

and splendidly horsed. It owed this latter circumstance, perhaps, to

a characteristic bit of War Office administration. The artillery was

being reduced to the level of a peace establishment when Napoleon

broke loose from Elba, and there came the sudden summons to war. A

second troop of horse-artillery was at that moment in Colchester

barracks. It was broken up, and troop G took the picked horses of

both batteries--"thus," says Mercer proudly, "making it the finest

troop in the service." One fine troop was in this way made out of two

half-dismantled batteries.

The troop was made up of eighty gunners and eighty-four drivers, with

the usual proportion of officers and non-commissioned officers. The

horses numbered no less than 226. There were six guns--five of them

being nine-pounders, and one a heavy five-and-a-half inch howitzer.

Mercer has the wholesome pride of a good officer in his own men and

guns. He tells with pardonable complacency the story of how his troop

shone in a grand cavalry review held on May 29, near Gramont:--

"About two o'clock the Duke of Wellington and Prince Blucher,

followed by an immense cortège, in which were to be seen many of

the most distinguished officers and almost every uniform in Europe,

arrived on the ground. Need I say that the foreigners were loud in

praise of the martial air, fine persons, and complete equipment of

the men and horses, and of the strength and beauty of the latter? and

my vanity on that occasion was most fully gratified, for on arriving

where we stood, the Duke not only called old Blucher's attention to

'the beautiful battery,' but, instead of proceeding straight through

the ranks, as they had done everywhere else, each sub-division--nay,

each individual horse--was closely scrutinised, Blucher repeating

continually that he had never seen anything so superb in his life,

and concluding by exclaiming, 'Mein Gott, dere is not von orse in

dies batterie wich is not goot for Veldt Marshal': and Wellington

agreed with him. It certainly was a splendid collection of horses.

However, except asking Sir George Wood whose troop it was, his Grace

never even bestowed a regard on me as I followed from sub-division to

sub-division."

The troop, as Mercer's story shows, was literally smashed up at

Waterloo; but Mercer, with great energy and skill, quickly built it up

again, and at a great review in Paris, where the allied sovereigns were

present, the English guns were once more the admired of all observers.

He writes:--

"It seems that we have been the _rara avis_ of the day ever since our

review. The rapidity of our movements, close-wheeling, perfection

of our equipment, &c., &c., excited universal astonishment and

admiration. The consequence of this was an application to the Duke

for a closer inspection, which he most magnanimously granted, and

ordered Ross's troop out for that purpose. They paraded in the

fields near Clichy. The reviewers, I understand, were _marechaux

de France_; but there was also a great concourse of officers of all

nations. After the manœuvres the troop was dismounted, and a most

deliberate inspection of ammunition, and even of the men's kits,

appointments, shoeing, construction of carriages, &c., &c., took

place. I believe they were equally astonished and pleased with what

they saw, and as there were several among them taking notes, have

no doubt that we shall soon see improvements introduced into the

Continental artillery."

Mercer, curiously enough, declares that the British artilleryman of his

day had no affection for his horse, and in this respect compares very

ill with the German artilleryman; the same thing, he says, applies to

British and German cavalry:--

"Affection for, and care of, his horse is the trait _par excellence_

which distinguishes the German dragoon from the English. The former

would sell everything to feed his horse; the latter would sell his

horse itself for spirits, or the means of obtaining them. The one

never thinks of himself until his horse is provided for; the other

looks upon the animal as a curse and a source of perpetual drudgery

to himself, and gives himself no concern about it when once away from

under his officer's eye. The German accustoms his horse to partake of

his own fare. I remember a beautiful mare, belonging to a sergeant of

the 3rd Hussars, K.G.L., which would even eat onions. She was one of

the very few that escaped after the disastrous retreat of Corunna,

and had been saved and smuggled on board ship by the sergeant

himself. In the Peninsula the only means of enforcing some attention

to their horses amongst our English regiments was to make every man

walk and carry his saddle-bags whose horse died or was ill."

All branches of the British army, it may be added, did not impress

the allied sovereigns in the same favourable manner as the artillery.

The British infantry seemed under-sized as compared with Austrians,

Prussians, &c. Mercer's account of the memorable review, held only five

weeks after Waterloo, is interesting:--

"At length the approach of the sovereigns was announced, and they

came preceded and followed by a most numerous and brilliant cortège,

in which figured, perhaps, some of almost every arm of every army

in Europe. It was a splendid and most interesting sight. First came

the Emperor Alexander and the King of Prussia, in their respective

green and blue uniforms, riding together--the former, as usual, all

smiles; the latter taciturn and melancholy. A little in their rear

followed the Austrian Emperor, in a white uniform, turned up with

red, but quite plain--a thin, dried-up, thread-paper of a man, not of

the most distinguished bearing; his lean, brown visage, however, bore

an expression of kindness and _bonhomie_, which folk say his true

character in no way belies. They passed along, scanning our people

with evident interest and curiosity; and in passing me (as they did

to every commanding officer), pulled off their hats, and saluted me

with most gracious smiles. I wonder if they do the same to their own.

Until yesterday I had not seen any British infantry under arms since

the evening the troops from America arrived at Garges, and, in the

meantime, have constantly seen corps of foreign infantry.

"These are all uncommonly well dressed in new clothes, smartly made,

setting the men off to the greatest advantage--add to which their

coiffure of high broad-topped shakos, or enormous caps of bearskin.

Our infantry--indeed our whole army--appeared at the review in

the same clothes in which they had marched, slept, and fought for

months. The colour had faded to a dusky brick-dust hue; their coats,

originally not very smartly made, had acquired by constant wearing

that loose, easy set so characteristic of old clothes, comfortable

to the wearer, but not calculated to add grace to his appearance.

_Pour surcroît de laideur_, their cap is perhaps the meanest, ugliest

thing ever invented. From all these causes it arose that our infantry

appeared to the utmost disadvantage--dirty, shabby, mean, and very

small. Some such impression was, I fear, made on the sovereigns, for

a report has reached us this morning that they remarked to the Duke

what very small men the English were. 'Ay,' replied our noble chief,

'they are small; but your Majesties will find none who fight so

well.' I wonder if this is true. However small our men and mean their

appearance, yet it was evident that they were objects of intense

interest from the immense time and close scrutiny of the inspection."

Mercer, with his troop, embarked at Harwich on April 9, and landed

at Ostend on the 13th. Thence he marched, with frequent halts, to

Brussels. His account of the marches and experiences of his troop is

very interesting, if only as showing that even under a great commander

like Wellington, amazing blunders and much distracted confusion were

possible. Nothing more absurd can well be imagined than the fashion

in which Mercer's fine troop was disembarked at Ostend; and nothing

could be more planless and belated than the marching--or rather the

loitering--of troop G towards Brussels. Wellington used to complain

afterwards that in the Waterloo campaign he had the most villainous

staff with which an unhappy general was ever afflicted; and the

helpless quality of Wellington's staff is reflected in Mercer's account

of the orders he received--or did not receive--directing his march to

the front. Here is Mercer's account of how his troops started from

their English barracks on the march which was to end on the smoky ridge

at Waterloo:--

"On the morning of the 9th, the troop paraded at half-past seven

o'clock with as much regularity and as quietly as if only going to

a field-day; not a man either absent or intoxicated, and every part

of the guns and appointments in the most perfect order. At eight,

the hour named in orders, we marched off the parade. The weather was

fine, the scenery, as we skirted the beautiful banks of the Stour,

charming, and the occasion exhilarating. Near Manningtree we halted a

short time to feed our horses, and then, pursuing our route, arrived

at Harwich about three o'clock in the afternoon. Here we found the

transports--the _Adventure_, _Philarea_, and _Salus_, in which last I

embarked.

"About 2 P.M. on the 11th, a light breeze from the N.W. induced our

agent to get under way, and we repaired on board our respective ships

with every prospect of a good and speedy passage. In this, however,

we were disappointed, for the breeze dying away as the sun went down,

we anchored, by signal, at the harbour's mouth, just as it got dark.

"The evening was splendid. A clear sky studded with myriads of stars

overhead, and below a calm unruffled sea, reflecting on its glassy

surface the lights of the distant town, the low murmuring sounds

from which, and the rippling of the water under the ships' bows,

were the only interruptions to the solemn stillness that prevailed

after the people had retired to their berths. In our more immediate

neighbourhood stretched out the long, low, sandy tract, on the

seaward extremity of which the dark masses and Landguard fort could

just be distinguished.

"With daybreak on the morning of the 12th came a favourable wind,

though light, and again we took up our anchors and proceeded to sea.

For some distance after clearing the harbour our course lay along

the Suffolk coast, and so near in that objects on shore were plainly

discernible. To us who had long been stationed at Woodbridge, only a

few miles inland, this was highly interesting. We knew every village,

every copse, every knoll--nay, almost every tree. There were the

houses in which we had so oft been hospitably entertained; there were

the sheep-walks on which we had so often manœuvred; and there in the

distance, as we passed the mouth of the Deben, our glasses showed us

the very barrack on the hill, with its tiled roofs illumined by the

noontide sun. About Bawdsey we left the coast, and steered straight

over with a light but favourable wind; the low, sandy shores of

Suffolk soon sank beneath the horizon.

"During the night a light breeze right aft and smooth water enabled

us to make good progress; but towards morning (13th) the wind had

very considerably increased, and although the coast was not in sight,

we were sensible of its neighbourhood from the number of curious

heavy-looking boats plying round us in all directions, having the

foremast with its huge lug-sail stuck right up in the bow or rather

inclining over it.

"Nothing, certainly, could be more repulsive than the appearance of

the coast--sandhills as far as the eye could reach, broken only by

the grey and lugubrious works and buildings of Ostend, and further

west by the spires of Mittelkerke and Nieuport peering above the

sandhills. The day, too, was one little calculated to enliven the

scene. A fresh breeze and cloudy sky; the sea black, rough, and

chilly; the land all under one uniform cold grey tint, presenting

scarcely any relief of light and shadow, consequently no feature.

Upon reconnoitring it, however, closer, we found that this forbidding

exterior was only an outer coating to a lovely gem. Through the

openings between the sandhills could be seen a rich level country of

the liveliest verdure, studded with villages and farms interspersed

amongst avenues of trees and small patches of wood.

"A black-looking mass of timber rising from the waters off the

entrance of the harbour, and which we understood to be a fort, now

became the principal object of our attention. The harbour of Ostend

is an artificial one, formed by _jetées_ of piles projecting as far

as low-water mark. The right on entering is merely a row of piles

running along in front of the works of the town; but on the left is

a long mole or _jetée_ on the extremity of which is a small fort.

Behind this mole to the north-east the shore curving inwards forms a

bight, presenting an extent of flat sandy beach on which the water

is never more than a few feet deep even at the highest tides. A

tremendous surf breaks on this whenever it blows from the westward.

"Followed by a crowd of other craft of all sorts and sizes, we

shot rapidly along towards that part of the harbour where a dense

assemblage of shipping filled up its whole breadth and forbade

further progress, so that one wondered what was to become of the

numerous vessels in our wake. The mystery was soon explained, for

each having attained the point, turning her prow to the town, ran

bump on the sands and there stuck fast. Those immediately above us

had just arrived, and from them a regiment of Light Dragoons was in

the act of disembarking, by throwing their horses overboard and then

hauling them ashore by a long rope attached to their head-collars.

What a scene! What hallooing, shouting, vociferating, and plunging!

The poor horses did not appear much gratified by their sudden

transition from the warm hold to a cold bath.

"Our keel had scarcely touched the sand ere we were abruptly boarded

by a naval officer (Captain Hill) with a gang of sailors, who, _sans

cérémonie_, instantly commenced hoisting our horses out, and throwing

them, as well as our saddlery, &c., overboard, without ever giving

time for making any disposition to receive or secure the one or the

other. To my remonstrance his answer was, 'I can't help it, sir; the

Duke's orders are positive that no delay is to take place in landing

the troops as they arrive, and the ships sent back again; so you must

be out of her before dark.' It was then about 3 P.M., and I thought

this a most uncomfortable arrangement.

"The scramble and confusion that ensued baffle all description.

Bundles of harness went over the side in rapid succession as well

as horses. In vain we urged the loss and damage that must accrue

from such a proceeding. 'Can't help it--no business of mine--Duke's

orders are positive,' &c., &c., was our only answer. Meantime the

ebb had begun to diminish the depth of water alongside, and enabled

us to send parties overboard and to the beach to collect and carry

our things ashore, as well as to haul and secure the horses. The

same operation commenced from the other vessels as they arrived, and

the bustle and noise were inconceivable. The dragoons and our men

(some nearly, others quite, naked) were dashing in and out of the

water, struggling with the affrighted horses, or securing their wet

accoutrements as best they could. Some of the former were saddling

their dripping horses, and others mounting and marching off in small

parties. Disconsolate-looking groups of women and children were to be

seen here and there sitting on their poor duds, or roaming about in

search of their husbands, or mayhap of a stray child, all clamouring,

lamenting, and materially increasing the babel-like confusion.

"It was not without difficulty that I succeeded at last in

impressing upon Captain Hill the necessity of leaving our guns and

ammunition-waggons, &c., on board for the night--otherwise his

furious zeal would have turned all out to stand on the wet sand or

be washed away. Meantime, although we were on shore, we were without

orders what to do next. Not an officer, either of the staff, the

garrison, or even of our own corps, came near us. Night approached,

and with it bad weather evidently. Our poor shivering horses and

heaps of wet harness could not remain on the sands much longer, when

the flood began to make again; and it was necessary to look about

and see what could be done. With this intent, therefore, leaving the

officers to collect their divisions, I got one of my horses saddled

and rode into the town. Here was the same bustle (although not the

same confusion) as on the sands. The streets were thronged with

British officers, and the quays with guns, waggons, horses, baggage,

&c.

"One would hardly expect to meet with any delay in finding the

commandant of a fortress, yet such was my case; and it was not until

after long and repeated inquiry that I discovered Lieut.-Colonel

Gregory, 44th Regiment, to be that personage, and found his

residence. From him, however, I could obtain nothing. He seemed

hardly to have expected the compliment of reporting our arrival, and

stated that he had no other orders but that the troops of every arm

should march for Ghent the moment they landed, without halting a

single day in Ostend.

"Strange to say neither I nor the colonel recollected there was such

a person in Ostend as an assistant-quarter-master-general, who should

be referred to on such an occasion. Yet this was the case; and that

officer, instead of attending to the debarkation of the troops,

or making himself acquainted with the arrivals, kept out of sight

altogether. Baffled at all points, I was returning to the sands when

I met Major Drummond on the Quai Impérial, and related my story. His

advice was to march to Ghystelle (a village about six miles from

Ostend), and after putting up there for the night, to return and

disembark my guns, &c., in the morning. While speaking, however,

some one (I forget who) came up with the agreeable information that

Ghystelle was already fully occupied by the 16th Dragoons. He,

however, gave me directions for some large sheds about a mile off,

where his own horses had passed the preceding night.

"This was some consolation: so riding off immediately to reconnoitre

the place and the road to it, I returned to the beach just as it

got dark; and a most miserable scene of confusion I there found.

Our saddles, harness, baggage, &c., were still strewed about the

sand, and these the flood, which was now making, threatened soon to

submerge. _Pour surcroît de malheur_, the rain came down in torrents,

and a storm, which had been brewing up the whole afternoon, now burst

over us most furiously. The lightning was quite tremendous, whilst

a hurricane, howling horribly through the rigging of the ships, was

only exceeded in noise by the loud explosions and rattling of the

incessant claps of thunder.

"Our people, meantime, blinded by the lightning, had borrowed some

lanterns from the ship, and were busily employed searching for the

numerous articles still missing. The obscurity, however, between the

vivid flashes was such that we were only enabled to keep together by

repeatedly calling to each other, and it was not without difficulty

and great watchfulness that we escaped being caught by the tide,

which flowed rapidly in over the flat sands. At length, having

collected as many of our things as was possible, and saddled our

horses (some two or three of which had escaped altogether), we began

our march for the sheds a little after midnight, with a farrier and

another dismounted man carrying lanterns at the head of our column.

"The rain continued pouring, but flashes of lightning occurred now

only at intervals, and the more subdued rolling of the thunder told

us that it was passing away in the distance. Our route lay through

the town, to gain which we found some advanced ditch to be crossed

by a very frail wooden bridge. Half the column, perhaps, might

have cleared this, when, 'crack,' down it went, precipitating all

who were on it at the moment into the mud below, and completely

cutting off those in the rear. Here was a dilemma. Ignorant of the

localities, and without a guide, how was the rear of the column to

join us, or how were the people in the ditch, with their horses, to

be extricated? Luckily none were hurt seriously, and the depth was

not great--not more, perhaps, than six or eight feet; but that was

enough to baffle all our attempts at extricating the horses. Some

Belgic soldiers of a neighbouring guard, of which we were not aware,

fortunately heard us, and came to our assistance; and one of them,

crossing the ditch, undertook to guide the rear of our column and

those below to another gate, whilst one accompanied us to the Quai

Impérial, where, after waiting a while, we were at length assembled,

drenched with rain and starving of cold and hunger.

"The Quai was silent and dark; the only light gleamed dimly through

the wet from a miserable lamp over the door of a café, in which

people were still moving; and the only sounds that broke the

stillness of the quarter were the splashing of the rain and the

clattering of our steel scabbards and horses' feet as we moved

dejectedly on--winding our way through unknown avenues (for in the

dark I found it impossible to recognise the narrow streets through

which I had so hurriedly passed in the afternoon), occasionally

illuminated by a solitary lamp, the feeble light of which, however,

was somewhat increased by reflection on the wet pavement. After

following for some time this devious course, I began to fear I had

missed the road, when again we stumbled upon a Belgic guard, by whose

direction and guidance we at length reached the outer barrier. Here

we again came to a standstill, the officer in charge refusing to let

us out. Some altercation ensued; I forget the particulars, but it

ended in his opening the gate.

"Once clear of the town, we hoped soon to reach our lodging; but had

scarcely advanced a hundred yards ere we found that result was more

distant than we had fancied, and that patience was still requisite.

The rain had rendered the fat soil so slippery that our horses could

scarcely keep their legs, and the road running along the narrow

summit of a dyke, with ditches on each side, rendered precaution and

slow movement imperative. Every moment the fall of some horse impeded

the column; our lanterns went out; and after wandering a considerable

time, we at length ascertained, by knocking up the people at a house

by the wayside, that we had overshot our mark, and it was not until

two in the morning that we succeeded in finding the sheds. These were

immensely long buildings attached to some saw-mills, for what use I

know not, unless to store planks, &c., for they were now empty; but

they were admirably adapted to our purpose, since we could range all

our horses along one side, while the men occupied the other, in one

of them. A quantity of hay, and some straw, left by our predecessors,

was a valuable acquisition to man and beast under such circumstances.

All our enjoyments are the effect of contrast. It would be considered

miserable enough to be obliged to pass the night under such equivocal

shelter as these sheds afforded, and that, too, in wet clothes; yet

did we now, after twelve hours of harassing work and exposure to the

weather, look upon them as palaces, and having cared for our poor

beasts as far as circumstances would permit, proceeded to prepare for

that repose so necessary and so longed for.

"Our road back to the town, now we had daylight, appeared very

short, and having dried considerably, was not so slippery as last

night. The gates were not yet opened when we arrived; a crowd of

workmen of different kinds had already assembled and were waiting

for admission, as were we, for a few minutes. At last they opened,

and we proceeded to the harbour in search of our ship. The quais,

beach, &c., were thronged as on the day before, and we added to

the bustle in disembarking our guns and carriages, &c. This was

completed by eleven o'clock, and we were ready to march forward;

but the commissariat detained us waiting the issue of our rations

until 3 P.M.--four mortal hours, considering our eagerness to get

on and explore this new country, and the bore of being confined to

one spot, since it was impossible to wander about the town, seeing

that we could not calculate the moment when these gentry might find

it convenient to supply us. Of our horses two were still missing, as

were some saddle-bags and a number of smaller articles; and this is

not to be wondered at when the scandalous manner in which they were

thrown overboard, the badness of the weather, the darkness of the

night, together with the ebbing and flowing of the tide, are taken

into consideration.

"The appearance, too, of the troop was vexatious in the extreme. Our

noble horses, yesterday morning so sleek and spirited, now stood

with drooping heads and rough staring coats, plainly indicating

the mischief they had sustained in being taken from a hot hold,

plunged into cold water, and then exposed for more than seven hours

on an open beach to such a tempest of wind and rain as that we

experienced last night. Here was a practical illustration of the

folly of grooming and pampering military horses, destined as they

are to such exposures and privations. As for our men, they looked

jaded, their clothes all soiled with mud and wet, the sabres rusty,

and the bearskins of their helmets flattened down by the rain.

Still, however, they displayed the same spirit and alacrity as that

which has always been a characteristic of the horse-artillery, more

particularly of G troop."

The tedium of waiting for so many hours on Ostend beach was relieved by

a naval incident of an exciting quality:--

"A loud cry of dismay suddenly pervaded the crowd, and all

simultaneously rushed to the ramparts. I followed this movement.

The morning, though somewhat overcast, had been fine, and the wind

moderate; but as the day advanced, and the flood-tide set in, the

south-westerly breeze had gradually increased to a gale. On reaching

the rampart, I immediately observed that the flat shore to the

northward, as far as the eye could reach, was covered with a sheet of

white foam from the tremendous surf breaking on it; whilst the spray,

rising in clouds and borne along before the blast, involved the whole

neighbourhood in a thick salt mist. Nothing could be more savage and

wild than the appearance of the coast.

"In the offing, numerous vessels under small sail were running for

the harbour. One small brig had missed, and before assistance could

be given, had been whirled round the _jetée_, and cast broadside on

amongst the breakers. Her situation was truly awful. The surf broke

over her in a frightful manner, sending its spray higher than her

masts, and causing her to roll from side to side until her yards

dipped in the water, and induced a belief every moment that she

must roll over. Every now and then a huge wave, larger than its

predecessor, would raise her bodily, and then, rapidly receding,

suddenly let her fall again on the ground with a concussion that

made the masts bend and vibrate like fishing-rods, and seemed to

threaten instant annihilation. Of her sails, some were torn to rags,

and others, flying loose, flapped and fluttered with a noise that was

audible from the rampart, despite the roaring of the surf. The people

on board appeared in great agitation, and kept shouting to those on

shore for assistance, which they were unable to give.

"Intense anxiety pervaded the assembled multitude as the shattered

vessel alternately rose to view or was buried in a sea of foam.

Numbers ran down to the sands opposite to her; and from them she

could not have been twenty yards distant, yet could they not afford

the despairing crew the slightest aid. Whilst thus attending in

breathless expectation the horrid catastrophe, the return of our

quarter-master with the rations summoned us unwillingly from the

rampart to commence our march. We afterwards learnt that a boat from

the harbour had succeeded in saving the crew (she had no troops on

board); but the unfortunate pilot who thus gallantly risked his

own life for them was killed by the boat rising suddenly under the

vessel's counter as he stood in the bow, which dashed his brains out."

CHAPTER II

ON MARCH TO THE FIELD

Mercer's description of his march across the Low Countries is full of

keen observation, and rich in pictures of peasant life. At Ghent the

troop halted for seven days. Here the much-wandering Louis XVIII. held

his Court, and Mercer gives an entertaining account of the scenes he

witnessed:--

"During the seven days we remained in Ghent our time was so occupied

by duties that there was little leisure to look about us. Amongst

other duties, it fell to our lot to furnish a guard of honour to

Louis XVIII., then residing in Ghent, his own troops having been sent

to Alost to make room for the British, which were continually passing

through. Our subalterns were very well pleased with this arrangement,

for the duty was nothing. They found an excellent table, and passed

their time very agreeably with the young men of the _gardes du

corps_, some of whom were always in attendance. Many of these were

mere boys, and the ante-room of his most Christian Majesty frequently

exhibited bolstering matches and other amusements, savouring strongly

of the boarding-school. However, they were good-natured, and always

most attentive to the comforts of the officer on guard. The royal

stud was in the barrack stables, and consisted principally of grey

horses, eighteen or twenty of which had been purchased in England at

a sale of 'cast horses' from the Scots Greys.

"We frequently met French officers of all ranks, and formed

acquaintance with many gentlemanly, well-informed men. At the Lion

d'Or and Hôtel de Flandre we found there was a _table d'hôte_

every night at eight o'clock, and, by way of passing the evening,

usually resorted to one or the other for supper. Here we were sure

of meeting many Frenchmen, and as the same people were generally

constant attendants, we became intimate, and discussed the merits

of our national troops respectively over our wine or _ponche_. It

was the first time most of them had had an opportunity of inspecting

British troops closely, though many had often met them in the field;

and they were very curious in their inquiries into the organisation,

government, and equipment of our army. Although allowing all due

credit to the bravery displayed by our troops in the Peninsula, and

the talents of our general (the Duke), yet were they unanimous in

their belief that neither would avail in the approaching conflict,

and that we must succumb before their idol and his grand army, for

though these gentlemen had deserted Napoleon to follow the fortunes

of Louis XVIII., it was evident they still revered the former.

"Their admiration of our troops, particularly of the cavalry,

was very great, but they expressed astonishment at seeing so few

decorations. It was in vain we asserted that medals were rarely given

in the British army, and then only to commanding officers, &c. They

shook their heads, appeared incredulous, and asked, 'Where are the

troops that fought in Spain?' There might have been something more

than mere curiosity in all this; there might have been an anxiety to

ascertain whether their countrymen were about to cope with veterans

or young soldiers. It might have been thrown out as a lure to provoke

information relative to the present employment of those veteran

bands. Moreover, I shrewdly suspected many of the gentlemen were

actually spies.

"Amongst others who had followed Louis XVIII. was Marmont. I think

it was the day after our arrival, passing over the open space near

the Place d'Armes by the river, I saw a French general officer

exercising a horse in the _manège_, and learnt with astonishment

that this was Marmont; for the man in question had two good arms,

whereas for years past I had, in common with most people in England,

looked upon it as a fact that he had left one at Salamanca. French

deserters, both officers and privates, were daily coming in; it was

said they deserted by hundreds."

On April 24 the troop received orders to resume its march, its next

quarters being at Thermonde, or, as it ought to have been spelt,

Dendermonde. From Dendermonde, on May 1, the troop was ordered to march

to Strytem. Mercer had neither map, nor directions, nor guides, and

his account of the incidents of the march, and the fashion in which

(as though he were exploring some absolutely unknown land) he had to

"discover" Strytem is amusing:--

"_May 1._--I still slept, when at five o'clock in the morning our

sergeant-major aroused me to read a note brought by an orderly

hussar. It was most laconic--_la voici_: 'Captain Mercer's troop of

horse artillery will march to Strytem without delay. Signed,' &c., &c.

"Where is Strytem? and for what this sudden move? These were

questions to which I could get no answer. The hussar knew nothing,

and the people about me less. One thing was positive, and that was

that we must be under weigh instanter, and pick out Strytem as best

we might. The sergeant-major, therefore, was despatched to give

the alert; and having given the hussar a receipt in full for his

important despatch, I proceeded to clothe my person for the journey,

having hitherto been _en chemise_. As the trumpeter was lodged in a

house close by with my own grooms, the 'boot and saddle' quickly

reverberated through the village, and set its whole population in

movement.

"To my questions respecting Strytem, Monsieur could give no

satisfactory answers. 'It lay in a very fine country somewhere in the

neighbourhood of Brussels, and we had better take the road to that

city in the first instance, and trust for further information to the

peasantry as we went along.' These people are singularly ignorant in

this respect, having no knowledge, generally speaking, of any place

more than two or three miles from home. Monsieur, however, invited me

to follow him to his study--a small room all in a litter--over the

gateway, and there, after some hunting amongst books, old clothes,

&c., &c., he rummaged out the mutilated fragment of an old but very

excellent map, which he insisted on my putting into my sabre-tache,

which I did, and still keep for his sake.

"'Prepare to mount!' 'Mount!' The trumpets sound a march, and waving

a last adieu to the group at the gate of my late home, I turn my back

on it for ever perhaps. The men were in high spirits, and horses

fat as pigs and sleek as moles--thanks to rest, good stabling, and

abundance of _tref_. Most of the peasants on whom many of our men had

been billeted accompanied them to the parade, and it was interesting

to witness the kindness with which they shook hands at parting, and

the complacency with which, patting the horses on the neck, they

scanned them all over, as if proud of their good condition.

"Passing through Lebbeke, we found the three brigades of 9-pounders

also getting on march, and the whole village astir. The officers told

us their orders were to march direct to Brussels, and they were fully

persuaded the French army had advanced.

"At Assche we found a battery of Belgian horse artillery in quarters.

Then men lounging about in undress, or without their jackets, without

any appearance of a move, induced us to believe our own was, after

all, only another change of quarters--and we were right. The people

here knew Strytem, which they said was only a few miles distant, to

the southward of the road we were on. Accordingly I despatched an

officer to precede us, and make the necessary arrangements for our

reception; at the same time, quitting the _chaussée_, we plunged into

a villainous cross-road, all up and down, and every bottom occupied

by a stream crossed by bridges of loose planks, which to us were

rather annoying, from their apparent insecurity, as well as from the

boggy state of the ground for some yards at either end of them.

"The road became worse than ever--deep, tenacious mud, sadly broken

up. After marching a short distance we passed a wheelwright's shop;

then came to a broader space, where stood a small mean-looking

church, a miserable cabaret, a forge, two very large farm

establishments, with a few wretched-looking cottages--this our guide

gave us to understand was Strytem."

At Strytem, where the troop halted for some time, Mercer had an

opportunity of seeing something of the cavalry corps which the Duc de

Berri was forming in the Bourbon interest. The Duc de Berri, according

to Mercer, was a very ill-mannered brute. Says Mercer:--

"One day I had a good opportunity of seeing this curious corps

and its savage leader. The former presented a most grotesque

appearance--cuirassiers, hussars, grenadiers _à cheval_, and

chasseurs, dragoons and lancers, officers and privates, with a few

of the new _gardes du corps_, were indiscriminately mingled in the

ranks. One file were colonels, the next privates, and so on, and all

wearing their proper uniforms and mounted on their proper horses, so

that these were of all sizes and colours. There might have been about

two hundred men, divided into two or three squadrons, the commanders

of which were generals. The Prince, as I have said, was drill-master.

A more intemperate, brutal, and (in his situation) impolitic one, can

scarcely be conceived. The slightest fault (frequently occasioned by

his own blunders) was visited by showers of low-life abuse--using on

all occasions the most odious language.

"One unfortunate squadron officer (a general!) offended him, and

was immediately charged with such violence that I expected a

catastrophe. Reining up his horse, however, close to the unhappy

man, his vociferation and villainous abuse were those of a perfect

madman; shaking his sabre at him, and even at one time thrusting

the pommel of it into his face, and, as far as I could see, pushing

it against his nose! Such a scene! Yet all the others sat mute as

mice, and witnessed all this humiliation of their comrade, and the

degradation of him for whom they had forsaken Napoleon. Just at this

moment one of our troop-dogs ran barking at the heels of the Prince's

horse. Boiling with rage before, he now boiled over in earnest, and,

stooping, made a furious cut at the dog, which, eluding the weapon,

continued his annoyance. The Duke, quitting the unfortunate _chef

d'escadron_, now turned seriously at the dog, but he, accustomed to

horses, kept circling about, yapping and snapping, and always out of

reach; and it was not until he had tired himself with the fruitless

pursuit that, foaming with rage, he returned to his doomed squadrons,

who had sat quietly looking on at this exhibition."

As the early days of June passed, and Napoleon was preparing for his

daring leap on the allied forces, the general strain grew more tense.

French spies were busy all through the English and Prussian posts.

Mercer describes a visit paid by a particularly daring spy to his own

post:--

"It was on the evening of the 15th June, and about sunset or a

little later, that an officer of hussars rode into the village

of Yseringen, Leathes being at the time at dinner with me at our

château. He was dressed as our hussars usually were when riding

about the country--blue frock, scarlet waistcoat laced with gold,

pantaloons, and forage-cap of the 7th Hussars. He was mounted on a

smart pony, with plain saddle and bridle; was without a sword or

sash, and carried a small whip--in short, his costume and _monture_

were correct in every particular. Moreover, he aped to the very life

that 'devil-may-care' nonchalant air so frequently characterising our

young men of fashion. Seeing some of our gunners standing at the door

of a house, he desired them to go for their officer, as he wished to

see him. They called the sergeant, who told him that the officer was

not in the village.

"In an authoritative tone he then demanded how many men and horses

were quartered there, whose troop they belonged to, where the

remainder of the troop was quartered, and of what it consisted? When

all these questions were answered, he told the sergeant that he had

been sent by Lord Uxbridge to order accommodation to be provided for

two hundred horses, and that ours must consequently be put up as

close as possible. The sergeant replied that there was not room in

the village for a single additional horse. 'Oh, we'll soon see that,'

said he, pointing to one of the men who stood by, 'do you go and tell

the maire to come instantly to me.' The maire came and confirmed the

sergeant's statement, upon which our friend, flying into a passion,

commenced in excellent French to abuse the poor functionary like a

pickpocket, threatening to send a whole regiment into the village;

and then, after a little further conversation with the sergeant, he

mounted his pony and rode off just as Leathes returned to the village.

"Upon reporting the circumstances to the officer, the sergeant stated

that he thought this man had appeared anxious to avoid him, having

ridden off rather in a hurry when he appeared, which together with a

slight foreign accent, then for the first time excited a suspicion of

his being a spy, which had not occurred to the sergeant before, as

he knew there were several foreign officers in our hussars, and that

the 10th was actually then commanded by one--Colonel Quentin. The

suspicion was afterwards confirmed, for upon inquiry, I found that

no officer had been sent by Lord Uxbridge on any such mission. Our

friend deserved to escape, for he was a bold and clever fellow."

CHAPTER III

QUATRE BRAS

Napoleon's plan for what was to prove the last campaign in his own

wonderful career was daring and subtle. He had to face two armies,

each almost equal in strength to his own; and though the forces of

Blucher and of Wellington were scattered over a very wide front, yet

their outposts touched each other where the great road from Charleroi

ran northwards to Brussels. Napoleon, with equal audacity and genius,

resolved to smite at the point of junction betwixt the two armies, and

overthrow each in turn. The risks of this strategy were immense, for

if his enemies succeeded in concentrating and fighting in concert, he

would be overwhelmed and destroyed--as actually happened at Waterloo.

Napoleon, however, calculated to win by the swiftness and suddenness of

his stroke, destroying Blucher before Wellington could concentrate for

his help, and then, in turn, overwhelming Wellington. By what a narrow

interval that great plan failed of success is not always realised.

Both Blucher and Wellington were off their guard. On June 15, at the

very moment when Napoleon's columns were crossing the Belgian frontier,

Wellington was writing a leisurely despatch to the Czar explaining his

intention to take the offensive at the end of the month. Blucher,

only a few days before, as Houssaye records, had written to his wife,

"We shall soon enter France. We might remain here another year, for

Bonaparte will never attack us." Yet with miraculous energy and

skill, Napoleon, in ten days, had gathered a host of 124,000 men,

over distances ranging from 30 to 200 miles, and held them, almost

unsuspected, within cannon-shot of the allied outposts. On June 15,

while the stars in the eastern summer sky were growing faint in the

coming dawn, the French columns were crossing at three separate points

the Belgian frontier, and the great campaign had begun.

Its history is compressed into three furious days. On the 16th Napoleon

defeated Blucher at Ligny, while Wellington, with obstinate courage and

fine skill, aided by many blunders on his enemy's part, and much good

luck on his own, succeeded in holding Quatre Bras against Ney. On the

17th Wellington fell back before the combined armies of Napoleon and

Ney to Waterloo. On the 18th the great battle, which sealed the fate

of Napoleon and gave a long peace to Europe, was fought. Napoleon's

strategy had fatally broken down. He aimed to separate the English

and the Prussian armies while keeping his own concentrated. The

exact opposite happened. Blucher's bold westward march from Wavre to

Waterloo united the allied forces, while Napoleon's force was fatally

divided--Grouchy, with 30,000 troops, being left "in the air" far to

the east. Napoleon, in a word, suffered the exact strategic disaster he

sought to inflict on his opponents.

We take up the thread of the adventures of Mercer and Battery G as

active operations begin. It offers a curious picture of the distraction

and confusion of a great campaign:--

"_June 16._--I was sound asleep when my servant, bustling into the

room, awoke me _en sursaut_. He brought a note, which an orderly

hussar had left and ridden off immediately. The note had nothing

official in its appearance, and might have been an invitation to

dinner; but the unceremonious manner in which the hussar had gone off

without his receipt looked curious. My despatch was totally deficient

in date, so that time and place were left to conjecture; its contents

pithy--they were as follows, viz.:--

"'Captain Mercer's troop will proceed with the utmost diligence to

Enghien, where he will meet Major M'Donald, who will point out the

ground on which it is to bivouac to-night.

'Signed, ----, D.A.Q.M.-Gen.'

That we were to move forward, then, was certain. It was rather

sudden, to be sure, and all the whys and wherefores were left

to conjecture; but the suddenness of it, and the importance of

arriving quickly at the appointed place, rather alarmed me, for

upon reflection I remembered that I had been guilty of two or three

imprudences.

"First, all my officers were absent; secondly, all my country waggons

were absent; thirdly, a whole division (one-third of my troop)

was absent at Yseringen. 'Send the sergeant-major here,' was the

first order, as I drew on my stockings. 'Send for Mr. Coates' (my

commissariat officer), the second, as I got one leg into my overalls.

'William, make haste and get breakfast,' the third, as I buttoned

them up. The sergeant-major soon came, and received his orders to

turn out instanter, with the three days' provisions and forage in

the haversacks and on the horses; also to send an express for the

first division. He withdrew, and immediately the fine martial clang

of 'boot and saddle' resounded through the village and courts of the

château, making the woods ring again, and even the frogs stop to

listen.

"The commissary soon made his appearance. 'What! are we off, sir?'

'Yes, without delay; and you must collect your waggons as quickly as

possible.' 'I fear, Captain Mercer, that will take some time, for St.

Cyr's are gone to Ninove.' My folly here stared me full in the face.

Mr. Coates said he would do his utmost to collect them; and as he was

a most active, intelligent, and indefatigable fellow, I communicated

to him my orders and determination not to wait, desiring him to

follow us as soon as he possibly could. My first enumerated care was

speedily removed, for I learned that the officers had just arrived

and were preparing for the march, having known of it at Brussels ere

we did. The two divisions in Strytem were ready to turn out in a few

minutes after the 'boot and saddle' had resounded, but, as I feared,

the first kept us waiting until near seven o'clock before it made its

appearance. At length the first division arrived, and the animating

and soul-stirring notes of the 'turn-out' again awoke the echoes of

the hills and woods. Up jumped my old dog Bal, and away to parade

and increase the bustle by jumping at the horses' noses and barking,

as parade formed. Away went the officers to inspect their divisions,

and Milward is leading my impatient charger, Cossac, up and down the

court.

"We had cleared the village and marched some miles well enough, being

within the range of my daily rides; but, this limit passed, I was

immediately sensible of another error--that of having started without

a guide; for the roads became so numerous, intricate, and bad, often

resembling only woodmen's tracks, that I was sorely puzzled, spite

of the map I carried in my sabre-tache, to pick out my way. But a

graver error still I had now to reproach myself with, and one that

might have been attended with fatal consequences. Eager to get on,

and delayed by the badness of the roads, I left all my ammunition

waggons behind, under charge of old Hall, my quartermaster-sergeant,

to follow us, and then pushed on with the guns alone, thus foolishly

enough dividing my troop into three columns--viz., the guns,

ammunition waggons, and the column of provision waggons under the

commissary. For this piece of folly I paid dearly in the anxiety I

suffered throughout this eventful day, which at times was excessive.

"Rid of all encumbrances, we trotted merrily on whenever the road

permitted, and, arriving at Castre (an old Roman legionary station),

found there the 23rd Light Dragoons just turning out, having also

received orders to march upon Enghien. A Captain Dance, with whom I

rode a short distance, told me he had been at the ball at Brussels

last night, and that, when he left the room, the report was that

Blucher had been attacked in the morning, but that he had repulsed

the enemy with great slaughter, was following up the blow, and that

our advance was to support him. The road for the last few miles had

been upon a more elevated country, not so wooded--a sort of plateau,

consequently hard and dry; but immediately on passing Castre, we

came to a piece which appeared almost impassable for about a hundred

yards--a perfect black bog, across which a corduroy road had been

made, but not kept in repair, consequently the logs, having decayed,

left immense gaps.

"The 23rd floundered through this with difficulty, and left us

behind. How we got through with our 9-pounders, the horses slipping

up to the shoulders between the logs every minute, I know not; but

through we did get, and without accident, but it took time to do so.

About noon, after threading our way through more mud and many watery

lanes, doubtful if we were in the right direction, we came out upon

a more open and dry country, close to a park, which upon inquiry

proved to be that of Enghien. To the same point various columns

of cavalry were converging, and under the park wall we found Sir

Ormsby Vandeleur's brigade of light dragoons dismounted, and feeding

their horses. Here we also dismounted to await the arrival of Major

M'Donald; and as I looked upon the day's march as finished, deferred

feeding until our bivouac should be established--another folly, for

an officer in campaign should never lose an opportunity of feeding,

watering, or resting his horses, &c. Having waited a good half-hour,

and no Major M'Donald appearing, I began to look about for some

one who could give me information, but no staff-officer was to be

seen, and no one else knew anything about the matter. Corps after

corps arrived and passed on, generally without even halting, yet all

professing ignorance of their destination. Pleasant situation this!

"Sir Ormsby's dragoons were by this time bridling up their horses and

rolling up their nosebags, evidently with the intention of moving

off. Seeing this, I sought out the general, whom I found seated

against a bank that, instead of a hedge, bordered the road. Whether

naturally a savage, or that he feared committing himself, I know not,

but Sir Ormsby cut my queries short with an asperity totally uncalled

for. 'I know nothing about you, sir! I know nothing at all about

you!' 'But you will perhaps have the goodness to tell me where you

are going yourself?' 'I know nothing at all about it, sir! I told you

already I know nothing at all about you!' and starting abruptly from

his seat, my friend mounted his horse, and (I suppose by instinct)

took the road towards Steenkerke, followed by his brigade, leaving

me and mine alone in the road, more disagreeably situated than ever.

I now began to reflect very seriously on the 'to stay' or 'not to

stay.' In the former case, I bade fair to have the ground all to

myself, for although everybody I spoke to denied having any orders,

yet all kept moving in one and the same direction. In the latter

case, my orders in writing certainly were to stay; but circumstances

might have occurred since to change this, and the new order might

not have reached me. Moreover, it was better to get into a scrape for

fighting than keeping out of the way, so I made up my mind to move

forward too.

"Accordingly I had already mounted my people when Sir H. Vivian's

brigade of hussars, followed by Major Bull's troop of our horse

artillery, passed. Bull, I found, was, like myself, without orders,

but he thought it best to stick close to the cavalry, and advised

me to do the same, which I did, following him and them on the road

to Steenkerke. The country about this place appeared more bare and

forbidding than any I had yet seen in the Pays Bas. Just as we moved

off, the column of Household troops made its appearance, advancing

from Ninove, and taking the same direction.

"It was now that the recollection of my absent waggons began to

torment me, and I actually feared never to see them again. However,

there was no help for it now, and I continued onward. A few miles

farther we crossed the Senne by an old stone bridge, and about four

in the afternoon arrived at Braine le Comte, almost ravenous with

hunger, and roasted alive by the burning sun, under which we had been

marching all day.

"We found several regiments drawn up in close columns, dismounted

and feeding. It was somewhere between Enghien and Braine le Comte

that we met an aide-de-camp (I believe one of the Duke's) posting

away as fast as his poor tired beast could get along, and dressed in

his embroidered suit, white pantaloons, &c., &c., having evidently

mounted as he left the ballroom. This, I remember, struck us at the

time as rather odd, but we had no idea of the real state of our

affairs.

"We had formed up, and were feeding also, but the nosebags were

scarcely put on the poor horse's heads than the cavalry corps,

mounting again, moved off, one after the other, and we were

constrained to follow ere the animals had half finished. Here, as

before, I could obtain no intelligence respecting our march, the

direction and meaning of which all I spoke to professed a profound

ignorance. Whilst halting, Hitchins, slipping into the town, brought

us out a couple of bottles of wine, the which we passed round from

one to the other without any scruple about sucking it all out of one

muzzle.

"A little hamlet (Long Tour, I think) lay at the foot of the

hills, the straggling street of which we found so crowded with

baggage-waggons of some Hanoverian or other foreign corps that for

a long while we were unable to pass. The cavalry, therefore, left

us behind, for they broke into the adjoining fields until they had

cleared the impediment. Although annoyed at being thus hindered,

I could not but admire the lightness, and even elegance, of the

little waggons, with their neat white tilts, and as neat and pretty

_jungfrauen_ who were snugly seated under them. We found the ascent

of the hills more difficult than we expected, the road, which went up

in a zigzag (indeed, it could not have been otherwise), little better

than a woodman's track, much cut up, and exceedingly steep--so much

so, that we found it necessary to double-horse all our carriages by

taking only half up at once."

Now, at last, the sullen guns from Quatre Bras began to make themselves

audible. Mercer's gunners were chiefly recruits; they had never yet

heard the deep, vibrating sounds that tell of the shock of mighty

hosts. That far-off call of angry guns stirred their blood and

quickened their march; but the troop reached Quatre Bras only when the

battle ended. Mercer's narrative, however, gives a striking picture of

how a great battle affects everything within sound of its guns:--

"At length the whole of our carriages were on the summit, but we

were now quite alone, all the cavalry having gone on; and thus

we continued our march on an elevated plateau, still covered

with forest, thicker and more gloomy than ever. At length we had

crossed the forest, and found ourselves on the verge of a declivity

which stretched away less abruptly than the one we had ascended,

consequently presenting a more extensive slope, down which our road

continued. A most extensive view lay before us; and now, for the

first time, as emerging from the woods, we became sensible of a

dull, sullen sound that filled the air, somewhat resembling that of

a distant water-mill, or still more distant thunder. On clearing

the wood it became more distinct, and its character was no longer

questionable--heavy firing of cannon and musketry, which could now

be distinguished from each other plainly. We could also hear the

musketry in volleys and independent firing. The extensive view below

us was bounded towards the horizon by a dark line of wood, above

which, in the direction of the cannonade, volumes of grey smoke

arose, leaving no doubt of what was going on. The object of our march

was now evident, and we commenced descending the long slope with an

animation we had not felt before.

"It was here that Major M'Donald overtook us, and without adverting

to the bivouac at Enghien, of which probably he had never heard,

gave me orders to attach myself to the Household Brigade, under Lord

Edward Somerset, but no instructions where or when. I took care not

to tell him they were in the rear, lest he might order us to halt for

them, which would have been a sore punishment to people excited as

we now were by the increasing roar of the battle evidently going on,

and hoped that by marching faster they might soon overtake us. Just

at this moment a cabriolet, driving at a smart pace, passed us. In it

was seated an officer of the Guards, coat open and snuff-box in hand.

I could not but admire the perfect nonchalance with which my man

was thus hurrying forward to join in a bloody combat--much, perhaps,

in the same manner, though certainly not in the same costume, as he

might drive to Epsom or Ascot Heath. The descent terminated in a

picturesque hollow, with a broad pool, dark and calm, and beyond it

an old mill, perfectly in keeping with the scene. The opportunity of

watering our poor brutes was too good to be missed, and I accordingly

ordered a halt for that purpose. Whilst so employed, an aide-de-camp,

descending from a singular knoll above us, on which I had noticed a

group of officers looking out with their glasses in the direction of

the battle, came to summon me to Sir Hussey Vivian, who was one of

them.

"On ascending the knoll Sir Hussey called to me in a hurried manner

to make haste. 'Who do you belong to?' said he. I told him, as also

that the brigade was yet in the rear. 'Well,' he replied, 'never

mind; there is something serious going on, to judge from that heavy

firing, and artillery must be wanted; therefore bring up your guns as

fast as you can, and join my hussars; can you keep up?' 'I hope so,

sir.' 'Well, come along without delay; we must move smartly.' In a

few minutes our people, guns and all, were on the hill. The hussars,

mounted, set off at a brisk trot, and we followed. Alas! thought

I, where are my ammunition waggons? The hussars, to lighten their

horses, untied the nets containing their hay, and the mouths of their

corn-bags, which, falling from them as they trotted on, the road was

soon covered with hay and oats. We did not follow their example, and

although dragging with us 9-pounders preserved our forage and also

our place in the column.

"By-and-by a large town appeared in front of us, and the increasing

intensity of the cannonade and volumes of smoke about the trees led

us to suppose the battle near at hand, and on the hill just beyond

the town. This town was Nivelle.

"Beyond the town the ground rose, also in shadowy obscurity, crowned

with sombre woods, over which ascended the greyish-blue smoke of the

battle, now apparently so near that we fancied we could hear the

shouts of the combatants--a fancy strengthened by crowds of people

on the heights, whom we mistook for troops--inhabitants of Nivelle,

as we soon discovered, seeking to get a sight of the fearful tragedy

then enacting. Before entering the town we halted for a moment,

lighted our slow matches, put shot into our leathern cartouches,

loaded the guns with powder, and stuck priming wires into the vents

to prevent the cartridges slipping forward, and, thus prepared for

immediate action, again moved on.

"On entering the town what a scene presented itself! All was

confusion, agitation, and movement. The danger was impending;

explosion after explosion, startling from their vicinity, and

clattering peals of musketry, like those lengthened thunder-claps

which announce to us so awfully the immediate neighbourhood of the

electric cloud. The whole population of Nivelle was in the streets,

doors and windows all wide open, whilst the inmates of the houses,

male and female, stood huddled together in little groups like

frightened sheep, or were hurrying along with the distracted air of

people uncertain where they are going or what they are doing. In a

sort of square which we traversed a few soldiers, with the air of

citizens, probably a municipal guard, were drawn up in line, looking

anxiously about them at the numerous bleeding figures which we now

began to meet.

"Some were staggering along unaided, the blood falling from them

in large drops as they went. One man we met was wounded in the

head; pale and ghastly, with affrighted looks and uncertain step,

he evidently knew little of where he was or what passed about him,

though still he staggered forward, the blood streaming down his face

on to the greatcoat which he wore rolled over his left shoulder.

An anxious crowd was collecting round him as we passed on. Then

came others supported between two comrades, their faces deadly pale

and knees yielding at every step. At every step, in short, we met

numbers, more or less wounded, hurrying along in search of that

assistance which many would never live to receive, and others receive

too late. Priests were running to and fro, hastening to assist at

the last moments of a dying man; all were in haste--all wore that

abstracted air so inseparable from those engaged in an absorbing

pursuit. Many would run up, and, patting our horses' necks, would

call down benedictions on us, and bid us hasten to the fight ere

it were yet too late, or uttering trembling and not loud shouts of

'Vivent les Anglais!'

"A few there were who stood apart, with gloomy, discontented looks,

eyeing their fellow-citizens with evident contempt and us with

scowls, not unmixed with derision, as they marked our dusty and jaded

appearance. Through all this crowd we held our way, and soon began to

ascend the hill beyond the town, where we entered a fine _chaussée_

bordered by elms, expecting every moment to enter on the field

of action, the roar of which appeared quite close to us. It was,

however, yet distant.

"The road was covered with soldiers, many of them wounded, but

also many apparently untouched. The numbers thus leaving the field

appeared extraordinary. Many of the wounded had six, eight, ten, and

even more attendants. When questioned about the battle, and why they

left it, the answer was invariable: 'Monsieur, tout est perdu! les

Anglais sont abîmes, en déroute, abîmes, tous, tous, tous!' and then,

nothing abashed, these fellows would resume their hurried route. My

countrymen will rejoice to learn that amongst this dastardly crew not

one Briton appeared. Whether they were of Nassau or Belgians I know

not; they were one or the other--I think the latter.

"One redcoat we did meet--not a fugitive though, for he was severely

wounded. This man was a private of the 92nd (Gordon Highlanders),

a short, rough, hardy-looking fellow, with the national high

cheek-bones, and a complexion that spoke of many a bivouac. He came

limping along, evidently with difficulty and suffering. I stopped

him to ask news of the battle, telling him what I had heard from

the others, 'Na, na, sir, it's aw a damned lee; they war fechtin'

yat an' I laft 'em; but it's a bludy business, and thar's na saying

fat may be the end on't. Oor ragiment was nigh clean swapt aff, and

oor colonel kilt just as I cam' awa'. Upon inquiring about his own

wound, we found that a musket ball had lodged in his knee, or near

it; accordingly Hitchins, dismounting, seated him on the parapet of

a little bridge we happened to be on, extracted the ball in a few

minutes, and, binding up the wound, sent him hobbling along towards

Nivelle, not having extracted a single exclamation from the poor man,

who gratefully thanked him as he resumed his way.

"A little farther on, and as it began to grow dusk, we traversed the

village of Hautain le Val, where a very different scene presented

itself. Here, in a large cabaret by the roadside, we saw through the

open windows the rooms filled with soldiers, cavalry and infantry;

some standing about in earnest conversation, others seated around

tables, smoking, carousing, and thumping the board with clenched

fists, as they related with loud voices--what?--most likely their own

gallant exploits. About the door their poor horses, tied to a rail,

showed by their drooping heads, shifting legs, and the sweat drying

and fuming on their soiled coats, that their exertions at least had

been of no trivial nature.

"The firing began to grow slacker, and even intermitting, as we

entered on the field of Quatre Bras--our horses stumbling from time

to time over corpses of the slain, which they were too tired to step

over. The shot and shell which flew over our line of march from time

to time (some of the latter bursting beyond us) were sufficient to

enable us to say we had been in the battle of Quatre Bras, for such

was the name of the place where we now arrived, just too late to be

useful. In all directions the busy hum of human voices was heard;

the wood along the skirts of which we marched re-echoed clearly and

loudly the tones of the bugle, which ever and anon were overpowered

by the sullen roar of cannon, or the sharper rattle of musketry; dark

crowds of men moved in the increasing obscurity of evening, and the

whole scene seemed alive with them. What a moment of excitement and

anxiety as we proceeded amongst all this tumult, and amidst the dead

and dying, ignorant as yet how the affair had terminated! Arrived at

a mass of buildings, where four roads met (_les quatre bras_), Major

M'Donald again came up with orders for us to bivouac on an adjoining

field, where, accordingly, we established ourselves amongst the

remains of a wheat crop.

"_June 17._--A popping fire of musketry, apparently close at hand,

aroused me again to consciousness of my situation. At first I could

not imagine where I was. I looked straight up, and the stars were

twinkling over me in a clear sky. I put out a hand from beneath my

cloak, and felt clods of damp earth and stalks of straw. The rattle

of musketry increased, and then the consciousness of my situation

came gradually over me. Although somewhat chilly, I was still drowsy,

and regardless of what might be going on, had turned on my side

and began to doze again, when one of my neighbours started up with

the exclamation, 'I wonder what all that firing means!' This in an

instant dispelled all desire to sleep; and up I got too, mechanically

repeating his words, and rubbing my eyes as I began to peer about.

"One of the first, and certainly the most gratifying, sights that

met my inquiring gaze, was Quarter-master Hall, who had arrived

during the night with all his charge safe and sound. He had neither

seen nor heard, however, of Mr. Coates and his train of country

waggons, for whom I began now to entertain serious apprehensions.

From whatever the musketry might proceed, we could see nothing--not

even the flashes; but the increasing light allowed me to distinguish

numberless dark forms on the ground all around me, people slumbering

still, regardless of the firing that had aroused me. At a little

distance numerous white discs, which were continually in motion,

changing place and disappearing, to be succeeded by others, puzzled

me exceedingly, and I could not even form a conjecture as to what

they might be. Watching them attentively, I was still more surprised

when some of these white objects ascended from the ground and

suddenly disappeared; but the mystery was soon explained by the

increasing light, which gave to my view a corps of Nassau troops

lying on the ground, having white tops to their shakos.

"Daylight now gradually unfolded to us our situation. We were on

a plateau which had been covered with corn, now almost everywhere

trodden down. Four roads, as already mentioned, met a little to the

right of our front, and just at that point stood a farmhouse, which,

with its outbuildings, yard, &c., was enclosed by a very high wall.

This was the farm of Quatre Bras. Beyond it, looking obliquely to the

right, the wood (in which the battle still lingered when we arrived

last night) stretched away some distance along the roads to Nivelle

and Charleroi, which last we understood lay in front."

CHAPTER IV

THE RETREAT TO WATERLOO.

Mercer's battery formed part of the British rearguard in the retreat

from Quatre Bras to Waterloo, and his gunners had some very breathless

and exciting experiences on the road, with the thunder rolling over

their heads and the French cavalry charging furiously on their rear.

Mercer tells the story with great vividness and spirit:--

"On the Charleroi road and in the plain was a small village

(Frasnes), with its church, just beyond which the road ascended the

heights, on the open part of which, between the road and the wood

towards the left, was the bivouac of the French army opposed to us.

Its advanced posts were in the valley near Frasnes, and ours opposite

to them--our main body occupying the ground between Quatre Bras and

the wood on the left. A smart skirmish was going on amongst the

hedges, &c., already mentioned, and this was the firing we had heard

all the morning. Our infantry were lying about, cleaning their arms,

cooking, or amusing themselves, totally regardless of the skirmish.

This, however, from our position, was a very interesting sight to

me, for the slope of the ground enabled me to see distinctly all the

manœuvres of both parties, as on a plan. After much firing from

the edge of the wood, opposite which our riflemen occupied all the

hedges, I saw the French chasseurs suddenly make a rush forward in

all directions, whilst the fire of our people became thicker and

faster than ever. Many of the former scampered across the open fields

until they reached the nearest hedges, whilst others ran crouching

under cover of those perpendicular to their front, and the whole

succeeded in establishing themselves--thus forcing back and gaining

ground on our men.

"The fire then again became sharper than ever--sometimes the French

were driven back; and this alternation I watched with great interest

until summoned to Major M'Donald, who brought us orders for the day.

From him I first learned the result of the action of yesterday--the

retreat of the Prussians, and that we were to do so too. His

directions to me were that I should follow some corps of infantry,

or something of the sort; for what followed caused me to forget it

all: 'Major Ramsay's troop,' he said, 'will remain in the rear with

the cavalry to cover the retreat; but I will not conceal from you

that it falls to your turn to do this, if you choose it.' The major

looked rather conscience-stricken as he made this avowal, so, to

relieve him, I begged he would give the devil his due and me mine.

Accordingly all the others marched off, and as nothing was likely to

take place immediately, we amused ourselves by looking on at what was

doing.

"Just at this moment an amazing outcry arose amongst the infantry at

the farm, who were running towards us in a confused mass, shouting

and bellowing, jostling and pushing each other. I made sure the

enemy's cavalry had made a dash amongst them, especially as the fire

of the skirmishers became thicker and apparently nearer, when the

thing was explained by a large pig, squealing as if already stuck,

bursting from the throng by which he was beset in all directions.

Some struck at him with axes, others with the butts of their muskets,

others stabbed at him with bayonets. The chase would have been

amusing had it not been so brutal; and I have seldom experienced

greater horror than I did on this occasion, when the poor brute,

staggering from the repeated blows he received, was at last brought

to the ground by at least half-a-dozen bayonets plunged into him at

once.

"All this time our retreat was going on very quietly. The corps at

Quatre Bras had retired early in the morning, and been replaced by

others from the left, and this continued constantly--every corps

halting for a time on the ground near Quatre Bras until another from

the left arrived, these moving off on the great road to Brussels,

ceding the ground to the new-comers.

"At first every one, exulting in the success of yesterday--they

having repulsed the enemy with a handful of men, as it were,

unsupported by cavalry and with very little artillery--anticipated,

now our army was united nothing less than an immediate attack on the

French position. We were sadly knocked down, then, when the certainty

of our retreat became known. It was in vain we were told the retreat

was only a manœuvre of concentration; the most gloomy anticipations

pervaded every breast. About this time Sir Alexander Dickson paid me

a visit, having just arrived from New Orleans, where he commanded the

artillery, to be our deputy-quartermaster-general. He only stayed a

few minutes.

"As the infantry corps on the plateau became fewer, the fire of the

skirmishers amongst the hedges gradually relaxed, and at length

ceased--the Rifles, &c., being drawn, and following the line of

retreat. At last, about noon, I found myself left with my troop,

quite alone, on the brow of the position, just by the farm of Quatre

Bras--the only troops in sight being a small picket of hussars, near

the village of Frasnes, in the plain below; a few more in our rear,

but at some little distance, amongst the houses; and a brigade of

hussars far away to the left (about two miles), close to the wood

in that quarter. Thus solitary, as it were, I had ample leisure

to contemplate the scene of desolation around me, so strangely at

variance with the otherwise smiling landscape. Everywhere mementoes

of yesterday's bloody struggle met the eye--the corn trampled down,

and the ground, particularly in the plain, plentifully besprinkled

with bodies of the slain. Just in front of the farm of Quatre Bras

there was a fearful scene of slaughter--Highlanders and cuirassiers

lying thickly strewn about; the latter appeared to have charged up

the Charleroi road, on which, and immediately bordering it, they lay

most numerously.

"In communicating to me the orders of our retreat, Major M'Donald had

reiterated that to join Lord Edward Somerset's brigade without delay,

but still he could not tell me where this brigade was to be found.

Meantime Sir Ormsby Vandeleur's brigade of light dragoons having

formed up in front of the houses, and supposing from this that all

the cavalry must be nigh, as one step towards finding Lord Edward I

crossed the road to the right of these dragoons, and rode towards

the part where, as before stated, the light was intercepted by trees

and bushes. On passing through these I had an uninterrupted view of

the country for miles, but not a soldier or living being was to be

seen in that direction. As I pushed on through the thickets my horse,

suddenly coming to a stand, began to snort, and showed unequivocal

symptoms of fear. I drove him on, however, but started myself when

I saw, lying under the bush, the body of a man stripped naked. This

victim of war was a youth of fair form, skin delicately white, and

face but little darker; an embryo moustache decorated the upper lip,

and his countenance, even in death, was beautiful. That he was French

I conjectured, but neither on himself nor his horse was there a

particle of clothing that could indicate to what nation he belonged.

If French, how came he here to die alone so far in the rear of our

lines?

"I know not why, but the _rencontre_ with this solitary corpse had

a wonderful effect on my spirits--far different from what I felt

when gazing on the heaps that encumbered the field beyond. Seldom

have I experienced such despondency--such heart-sinking--as when

standing over this handsome form thus despoiled, neglected, and

about to become a prey to wolves and carrion crows--the darling of

some fond mother, the adored of some fair maid. His horse, stripped

like himself, lay by--they had met their fate at once. Returning

to my troop, I found Sir Augustus Frazer, who had come to order my

ammunition waggons to the rear that the retreat might be as little

encumbered as possible, and to tell me that what ammunition was used

during the day would be supplied by my sending for it to Langeveldt,

on the road to Brussels, where that to Wavre branches from it.

"Thus divested of our ammunition, it was evident that our retreat

must be a rapid one, since with only fifty rounds a gun (the number

in the limbers), it could not be expected that we could occupy any

position longer than a few minutes. In the end, this measure nearly

led to very disagreeable results, as will be seen anon."

Lord Uxbridge--afterwards the Marquis of Anglesey--was a very fine

cavalry leader, a sort of English Murat, with all the dash, activity,

and resource of that famous soldier. But he had too much fire in

his temper for cool generalship. The tumult and shock of battle had

the effect of champagne upon him. It kindled in his brain a sort of

intoxication. So he took risks a cooler-headed soldier would have

avoided. Uxbridge's fiery and audacious daring is vividly reflected in

Mercer's account of how he covered the retreat to Waterloo:--

"It was now about one o'clock. My battery stood in position on the

brow of the declivity, with its right near the wall of the farm,

all alone, the only troops in sight being, as before mentioned, the

picket and a few scattered hussars in the direction of Frasnes,

Sir O. Vandeleur's light dragoons two or three hundred yards in our

rear, and Sir H. Vivian's hussars far away to the left. Still the

French army made no demonstration of an advance. This inactivity was

unaccountable. Lord Uxbridge and an aide-de-camp came to the front

of my battery, and dismounting, seated himself on the ground; so did

I and the aide-de-camp. His lordship with his glass was watching

the French position; and we were all three wondering at their want

of observation and inactivity, which had not only permitted our

infantry to retire unmolested, but also still retained them in their

bivouac. 'It will not be long now before they are on us,' said the

aide-de-camp, 'for they always dine before they move; and those

smokes seem to indicate that they are cooking now.'

"He was right; for not long afterwards another aide-de-camp, scouring

along the valley, came to report that a heavy column of cavalry was

advancing through the opening between the woods to the left from the

direction of Gembloux. At the same moment we saw them distinctly;

and Lord Uxbridge having reconnoitred them a moment through his

glass, started up, exclaiming, in a joyful tone, 'By the Lord, they

are Prussians!' jumped on his horse, and, followed by the two aides,

dashed off like a whirlwind to meet them. For a moment I stood

looking after them as they swept down the slope, and could not help

wondering how the Prussians came there. I was, however, not left long

in my perplexity, for, turning my eyes towards the French position, I

saw their whole army descending from it in three or four dark masses,

whilst their advanced cavalry picket was already skirmishing with and

driving back our hussars. The truth instantly flashed on my mind, and

I became exceedingly uneasy for the safety of Lord Uxbridge and his

companions, now far advanced on their way down the valley, and likely

to be irretrievably cut off.

"My situation now appeared somewhat awkward; left without orders

and entirely alone on the brow of our position--the hussar pickets

galloping in and hurrying past as fast as they could--the whole

French army advancing, and already at no great distance. In this

dilemma, I determined to retire across the little dip that separated

me from Sir O. Vandeleur, and take up a position in front of his

squadrons, whence, after giving a round to the French advance as

soon as they stood on our present ground, I thought I could retire

in sufficient time through his intervals to leave the ground clear

for him to charge. This movement was immediately executed; but the

guns were scarcely unlimbered ere Sir Ormsby came furiously up,

exclaiming, 'What are you doing here, sir? You encumber my front, and

we shall not be able to charge. Take your guns away, sir; instantly,

I say--take them away!' It was in vain that I endeavoured to explain

my intentions, and that our fire would allow his charge to be made

with more effect. 'No, no; take them out of my way, sir!' was all the

answer I could get; and accordingly, I was preparing to obey, when up

came Lord Uxbridge, and the scene changed in a twinkling. 'Captain

Mercer, are you loaded?' 'Yes, my lord.' 'Then give them a round

as they rise the hill, and retire as quickly as possible.' 'Light

dragoons, threes right; at a trot, march!' and then some orders to

Sir Ormsby, of whom I saw no more that day. 'They are just coming up

the hill,' said Lord Uxbridge. 'Let them get well up before you fire.

Do you think you can retire quick enough afterwards?' 'I am sure of

it, my lord.' 'Very well, then, keep a good lookout, and point your

guns well.'

"I had often longed to see Napoleon, that mighty man of war--that

astonishing genius who had filled the world with his renown. Now

I saw him, and there was a degree of sublimity in the interview

rarely equalled. The sky had become overcast since the morning, and

at this moment presented a most extraordinary appearance. Large

isolated masses of thunder-cloud, of the deepest, almost inky black,

their lower edges hard and strongly defined, lagging down, as if

momentarily about to burst, hung suspended over us, involving our

position and everything on it in deep and gloomy obscurity; whilst

the distant hill lately occupied by the French army still lay bathed

in brilliant sunshine. Lord Uxbridge was yet speaking when a single

horseman,[6] immediately followed by several others, mounted the

plateau I had left at a gallop, their dark figures thrown forward in

strong relief from the illuminated distance, making them appear much

nearer to us than they really were.

"For an instant they pulled up and regarded us, when several

squadrons coming rapidly on the plateau, Lord Uxbridge cried out,

'Fire!--fire!' and, giving them a general discharge, we quickly

limbered up to retire, as they dashed forward supported by some

horse artillery guns, which opened upon us ere we could complete the

manœuvre, but without much effect, for the only one touched was

the servant of Major Whinyates, who was wounded in the leg by the

splinter of a howitzer shell.

"It was now for the first time that I discovered the major and his

rocket-troop, who, annoyed at my having the rear, had disobeyed

the order to retreat, and remained somewhere in the neighbourhood

until this moment, hoping to share whatever might be going on. The

first gun that was fired seemed to burst the clouds overhead, for

its report was instantly followed by an awful clap of thunder, and

lightning that almost blinded us, whilst the rain came down as if

a waterspout had broken over us. The sublimity of the scene was

inconceivable. Flash succeeded flash, and the peals of thunder were

long and tremendous; whilst, as if in mockery of the elements, the

French guns still sent forth their feebler glare and now scarcely

audible reports--their cavalry dashing on at a headlong pace, adding

their shouts to the uproar. We galloped for our lives through the

storm, striving to gain the enclosures about the houses of the

hamlets, Lord Uxbridge urging us on, crying, 'Make haste!--make

haste! for God's sake, gallop, or you will be taken!' We did make

haste, and succeeded in getting amongst the houses and gardens, but

with the French advance close on our heels. Here, however, observing

the _chaussée_ full of hussars, they pulled up. Had they continued

their charge we were gone, for these hussars were scattered about the

road in the utmost confusion, some in little squads, others singly,

and, moreover, so crowded together that we had no room whatever to

act with any effect--either they or us.

"Meantime the enemy's detachments began to envelop the gardens,

which Lord Uxbridge observing, called to me, 'Here, follow me with

two of your guns,' and immediately himself led the way into one

of the narrow lanes between the gardens. What he intended doing,

God knows, but I obeyed. The lane was very little broader than our

carriages--there was not room for a horse to have passed them!

The distance from the _chaussée_ to the end of the lane, where it

debouched on the open fields, could scarcely have been above one or

two hundred yards at most. His lordship and I were in front, the

guns and mounted detachments following. What he meant to do I was at

a loss to conceive; we could hardly come to action in the lane; to

enter on the open was certain destruction. Thus we had arrived at

about fifty yards from its termination when a body of chasseurs or

hussars appeared there as if waiting for us. These we might have seen

from the first, for nothing but a few elder bushes intercepted the

view from the _chaussée_.

"The whole transaction appears to me so wild and confused that at

times I can hardly believe it to have been more than a confused

dream--yet true it was--the general-in-chief of the cavalry exposing

himself amongst the skirmishers of his rearguard, and literally

doing the duty of a cornet! 'By God! we are all prisoners' (or some

such words), exclaimed Lord Uxbridge, dashing his horse at one of

the garden-banks, which he cleared, and away he went, leaving us

to get out of the scrape as best we could. There was no time for

hesitation--one manœuvre alone could extricate us if allowed time,

and it I ordered. 'Reverse by unlimbering' was the order. To do this

the gun was to be unlimbered, then turned round, and one wheel run up

the bank, which just left space for the limber to pass it. The gun is

then limbered up again and ready to move to the rear. The execution,

however, was not easy, for the very reversing of the limber itself

in so narrow a lane, with a team of eight horses, was sufficiently

difficult, and required first-rate driving.

"Nothing could exceed the coolness and activity of our men; the thing

was done quickly and well, and we returned to the _chaussée_ without

let or hindrance. How we were permitted to do so, I am at a loss to

imagine; for although I gave the order to reverse, I certainly never

expected to have seen it executed. Meantime my own situation was

anything but a pleasant one, as I sat with my back to the gentlemen

at the end of the lane, whose interference I momentarily expected,

casting an eye from time to time over my shoulder to ascertain

whether they still kept their position. There they sat motionless,

and although thankful for their inactivity, I could not but wonder

at their stupidity. It seemed, however, all of a piece that day--all

blunder and confusion; and this last I found pretty considerable

on regaining the _chaussée_. His lordship we found collecting the

scattered hussars together into a squadron for our rescue, for which

purpose it was he had so unceremoniously left us. Heavy as the rain

was and thick the weather, yet the French could not but have seen the

confusion we were in, as they had closed up to the entrance of the

enclosure; and yet they did not at once take advantage of it.

"Things could not remain long in this state. A heavy column of

cavalry approached us by the _chaussée_, whilst another skirting

the enclosures, appeared pushing forward to cut us off. Retreat

now became imperative. The order was given, and away we went,

helter-skelter--guns, gun-detachments, and hussars all mixed

_pêle-mêle_, going like mad, and covering each other with mud, to be

washed off by the rain, which, before sufficiently heavy, now came

down again as it had done at first, in splashes instead of drops,

soaking us anew to the skin, and, what was worse, extinguishing every

slow match in the brigade. The obscurity caused by the splashing

of the rain was such, that at one period I could not distinguish

objects more than a few yards distant. Of course we lost sight of our

pursuers altogether, and the shouts and halloos, and even laughter,

they had at first sent forth were either silenced or drowned in the

uproar of the elements and the noise of our too rapid retreat; for

in addition to everything else the crashing and rattling of the

thunder were most awful, and the glare of the lightning blinding.

In this state we gained the bridge of Genappe at the moment when

the thunder-cloud, having passed over, left us in comparative fine

weather, although still raining heavily.