18th June, 1815.
When I awoke, this morning, at daylight, I found myself drenched with
rain. I had slept so long and so soundly that I had, at first, but a
very confused notion of my situation; but having a bright idea that my
horse had been my companion when I went to sleep, I was rather
startled at finding that I was now alone; nor could I rub my eyes
clear enough to procure a sight of him, which was vexatious enough;
for, independent of his value _as a horse_, his services were
indispensable; and an adjutant might as well think of going into
action without his arms as without such a supporter. But whatever my
feelings might have been towards him, it was evident that he had none
for me, from having drawn his sword and marched off. The chances of
finding him again, amid ten thousand others, were about equal to the
odds against the needle in a bundle of hay; but for once the single
chance was gained, as, after a diligent search of an hour, he was
discovered between two artillery horses, about half a mile from where
he broke loose.
The weather cleared up as the morning advanced; and, though every
thing remained quiet at the moment, we were confident that the day
would not pass off without an engagement, and, therefore, proceeded to
put our arms in order, as, also, to get ourselves dried and made as
comfortable as circumstances would permit.
We made a fire against the wall of Sir Andrew Barnard's cottage, and
boiled a huge camp-kettle full of tea, mixed up with a suitable
quantity of milk and sugar, for breakfast; and, as it stood on the
edge of the high road, where all the big-wigs of the army had occasion
to pass, in the early part of the morning, I believe almost every one
of them, from the Duke downwards, claimed a cupful.
About nine o'clock, we received an order to retain a quantity of spare
ammunition, in some secure place, and to send every thing in the shape
of baggage and baggage-animals to the rear. It, therefore, became
evident that the Duke meant to give battle in his present position;
and it was, at the same time, generally understood that a corps of
thirty thousand Prussians were moving to our support.
About ten o'clock, an unusual bustle was observable among the
staff-officers, and we soon after received an order to stand to our
arms. The troops who had been stationed in our front during the night
were then moved off to the right, and our division took up its
fighting position.
Our battalion stood on what was considered the left centre of the
position. We had our right resting on the Namur-road, about a hundred
yards in rear of the farm-house of La Haye Sainte, and our left
extending behind a broken hedge, which run along the ridge to the
left. Immediately in our front, and divided from La Haye Sainte only
by the great road, stood a small knoll, with a sand-hole in its
farthest side, which we occupied, as an advanced post, with three
companies. The remainder of the division was formed in two lines; the
first, consisting chiefly of light troops, behind the hedge, in
continuation from the left of our battalion reserve; and the second,
about a hundred yards in its rear. The guns were placed in the
intervals between the brigades, two pieces were in the road-way on our
right, and a rocket-brigade in the centre.
The road had been cut through the rising ground, and was about twenty
or thirty feet deep where our right rested, and which, in a manner,
separated us from all the troops beyond. The division, I believe,
under General Alten occupied the ground next to us, on the right. He
had a light battalion of the German legion, posted inside of La Haye
Sainte, and the household brigade of cavalry stood under cover of the
rising ground behind him. On our left there were some Hanoverians and
Belgians, together with a brigade of British heavy dragoons, the
royals, and Scotch greys.
These were all the observations on the disposition of our army that my
situation enabled me to make. The whole position seemed to be a gently
rising ground, presenting no obstacle at any point, excepting the
broken hedge in front of our division, and it was only one in
appearance, as it could be passed in every part.
Shortly after we had taken up our ground, some columns, from the
enemy's left, were seen in motion towards Hugamont, and were soon
warmly engaged with the right of our army. A cannon ball, too, came
from the Lord knows where, for it was not fired at us, and took the
head off our right hand man. That part of their position, in our own
immediate front, next claimed our undivided attention. It had hitherto
been looking suspiciously innocent, with scarcely a human being upon
it; but innumerable black specks were now seen taking post at regular
distances in its front, and recognizing them as so many pieces of
artillery, I knew, from experience, although nothing else was yet
visible, that they were unerring symptoms of our not being destined to
be idle spectators.
From the moment we took possession of the knoll, we had busied
ourselves in collecting branches of trees and other things, for the
purpose of making an _abatis_ to block up the road between that and
the farm-house, and soon completed one, which we thought looked
sufficiently formidable to keep out the whole of the French cavalry;
but it was put to the proof sooner than we expected, by a troop of our
own light dragoons, who, having occasion to gallop through, astonished
us not a little by clearing away every stick of it. We had just time
to replace the scattered branches, when the whole of the enemy's
artillery opened, and their countless columns began to advance under
cover of it.
The scene at that moment was grand and imposing, and we had a few
minutes to spare for observation. The column destined as _our_
particular _friends_, first attracted our notice, and seemed to
consist of about ten thousand infantry. A smaller body of infantry and
one of cavalry moved on their right; and, on their left, another huge
column of infantry, and a formidable body of cuirassiers, while beyond
them it seemed one moving mass.
We saw Buonaparte himself take post on the side of the road,
immediately in our front, surrounded by a numerous staff; and each
regiment, as they passed him, rent the air with shouts of "_vive
l'Empereur_," nor did they cease after they had passed; but, backed by
the thunder of their artillery, and carrying with them the _rubidub_
of drums, and the _tantarara_ of trumpets, in addition to their
increasing shouts, it looked, at first, as if they had some hopes of
scaring us off the ground; for it was a singular contrast to the stern
silence reigning on our side, where nothing, as yet, but the voices of
our great guns, told that we had mouths to open when we chose to use
them. Our rifles were, however, in a very few seconds, required to
play their parts, and opened such a fire on the advancing skirmishers
as quickly brought them to a stand still; but their columns advanced
steadily through them, although our incessant _tiralade_ was telling
in their centre with fearful exactness, and our post was quickly
turned in both flanks, which compelled us to fall back and join our
comrades, behind the hedge, though not before some of our officers and
theirs had been engaged in personal combat.
When the heads of their columns shewed over the knoll which we had
just quitted, they received such a fire from our first line, that they
wavered, and hung behind it a little; but, cheered and encouraged by
the gallantry of their officers, who were dancing and flourishing
their swords in front, they at last boldly advanced to the opposite
side of our hedge, and began to deploy. Our first line, in the mean
time, was getting so thinned, that Picton found it necessary to bring
up his second, but fell in the act of doing it. The command of the
division, at that critical moment, devolved upon Sir James Kempt, who
was galloping along the line, animating the men to steadiness. He
called to me by name, where I happened to be standing on the right of
our battalion, and desired "that I would never quit that spot." I told
him that "he might depend upon it:" and in another instant I found
myself in a fair way of keeping my promise more religiously than I
intended; for, glancing my eye to the right, I saw the next field
covered with the cuirassiers, some of whom were making directly for
the gap in the hedge, where I was standing. I had not hitherto drawn
my sword, as it was generally to be had at a moment's warning; but,
from its having been exposed to the last night's rain, it had now got
rusted in the scabbard, and refused to come forth! I was in a
precious scrape. Mounted on my strong Flanders mare, and with my good
old sword in my hand, I would have braved all the chances without a
moment's hesitation; but, I confess, that I felt considerable doubts
as to the propriety of standing there to be sacrificed, without the
means of making a scramble for it. My mind, however, was happily
relieved from such an embarrassing consideration, before my decision
was required; for the next moment the cuirassiers were charged by our
household brigade; and the infantry in our front giving way at the
same time, under our terrific shower of musketry, the flying
cuirassiers tumbled in among the routed infantry, followed by the
life-guards, who were cutting away in all directions. Hundreds of the
infantry threw themselves down, and pretended to be dead, while the
cavalry galloped over them, and then got up and ran away. I never saw
such a scene in all my life.
Lord Wellington had given orders that the troops were, on no account,
to leave the position to follow up any temporary advantage; so that
we now resumed our post, as we stood at the commencement of the
battle, and with three companies again advanced on the knoll.
I was told, it was very ridiculous, at that moment, to see the number
of vacant spots that were left nearly along the whole of the line,
where a great part of the dark dressed foreign troops had stood,
intermixed with the British, when the action began.
Our division got considerably reduced in numbers during the last
attack; but Lord Wellington's fostering hand sent Sir John Lambert to
our support, with the sixth division; and we now stood prepared for
another and a more desperate struggle.
Our battalion had already lost three officers killed, and six or seven
wounded; among the latter were Sir Andrew Barnard and Colonel Cameron.
Some one asking me what had become of my horse's ear, was the first
intimation I had of his being wounded; and I now found that,
independent of one ear having been shaved close to his head, (I
suppose by a cannon-shot,) a musket-ball had grazed across his
forehead, and another gone through one of his legs, but he did not
seem much the worse for either of them.
Between two and three o'clock we were tolerably quiet, except from a
thundering cannonade; and the enemy had, by that time, got the range
of our position so accurately that every shot brought a ticket for
somebody's head.
An occasional gun, beyond the plain, far to our left, marked the
approach of the Prussians; but their progress was too slow to afford a
hope of their arriving in time to take any share in the battle.
On our right, the roar of cannon and musketry had been incessant from
the time of its commencement; but the higher ground, near us,
prevented our seeing anything of what was going on.
Between three and four o'clock, the storm gathered again in our front.
Our three companies on the knoll were soon involved in a furious
fire. The Germans, occupying La Haye Sainte, expended all their
ammunition, and fled from the post. The French took possession of it;
and, as it flanked our knoll, we were obliged to abandon it also, and
fall back again behind the hedge.
The loss of La Haye Sainte was of the most serious consequence, as it
afforded the enemy an establishment within our position. They
immediately brought up two guns on our side of it, and began serving
out some grape to us; but they were so very near, that we destroyed
their artillerymen before they could give us a second round.
The silencing of these guns was succeeded by a very extraordinary
scene, on the same spot. A strong regiment of Hanoverians advanced in
line, to charge the enemy out of La Haye Sainte; but they were
themselves charged by a brigade of cuirassiers, and, excepting one
officer, on a little black horse, who went off to the rear, like a
shot out of a shovel, I do believe that every man of them was put to
death in about five seconds. A brigade of British light dragoons
advanced to their relief, and a few, on each side, began exchanging
thrusts; but it seemed likely to be a drawn battle between them,
without much harm being done, when our men brought it to a crisis
sooner than either side anticipated, for they previously had their
rifles eagerly pointed at the cuirassiers, with a view of saving the
perishing Hanoverians; but the fear of killing their friends withheld
them, until the others were utterly overwhelmed, when they instantly
opened a terrific fire on the whole concern, sending both sides to
flight; so that, on the small space of ground, within a hundred yards
of us, where five thousand men had been fighting the instant before,
there was not now a living soul to be seen.
It made me mad to see the cuirassiers, in their retreat, stooping and
stabbing at our wounded men, as they lay on the ground. How I wished
that I had been blessed with Omnipotent power for a moment, that I
might have blighted them!
The same field continued to be a wild one the whole of the afternoon.
It was a sort of duelling-post between the two armies, every half-hour
showing a meeting of some kind upon it; but they never exceeded a
short scramble, for men's lives were held very cheap there.
For the two or three succeeding hours there was no variety with us,
but one continued blaze of musketry. The smoke hung so thick about,
that, although not more than eighty yards asunder, we could only
distinguish each other by the flashes of the pieces.
A good many of our guns had been disabled, and a great many more
rendered unserviceable in consequence of the unprecedented close
fighting; for, in several places, where they had been posted but a
very few yards in front of the line, it was impossible to work them.
I shall never forget the scene which the field of battle presented
about seven in the evening. I felt weary and worn out, less from
fatigue than anxiety. Our division, which had stood upwards of five
thousand men at the commencement of the battle, had gradually dwindled
down into a solitary line of skirmishers. The twenty-seventh regiment
were lying literally dead, in square, a few yards behind us. My horse
had received another shot through the leg, and one through the flap of
the saddle, which lodged in his body, sending him a step beyond the
pension-list. The smoke still hung so thick about us that we could see
nothing. I walked a little way to each flank, to endeavour to get a
glimpse of what was going on; but nothing met my eye except the
mangled remains of men and horses, and I was obliged to return to my
post as wise as I went.
I had never yet heard of a battle in which every body was killed; but
this seemed likely to be an exception, as all were going by turns. We
got excessively impatient under the tame similitude of the latter part
of the process, and burned with desire to have a last thrust at our
respective _vis-a-vis_; for, however desperate our affairs were, we
had still the satisfaction of seeing that theirs were worse. Sir John
Lambert continued to stand as our support, at the head of three good
old regiments, one dead (the twenty-seventh) and two living ones; and
we took the liberty of soliciting him to aid our views; but the Duke's
orders on that head were so very particular that the gallant general
had no choice.
Presently a cheer, which we knew to be British, commenced far to the
right, and made every one prick up his ears;--it was Lord Wellington's
long wished-for orders to advance; it gradually approached, growing
louder as it grew near;--we took it up by instinct, charged through
the hedge down upon the old knoll, sending our adversaries flying at
the point of the bayonet. Lord Wellington galloped up to us at the
instant, and our men began to cheer him; but he called out, "no
cheering, my lads, but forward, and complete your victory!"
This movement had carried us clear of the smoke; and, to people who
had been for so many hours enveloped in darkness, in the midst of
destruction, and naturally anxious about the result of the day, the
scene which now met the eye conveyed a feeling of more exquisite
gratification than can be conceived. It was a fine summer's evening,
just before sunset. The French were flying in one confused mass.
British lines were seen in close pursuit, and in admirable order, as
far as the eye could reach to the right, while the plain to the left
was filled with Prussians. The enemy made one last attempt at a stand
on the rising ground to our right of La Belle Alliance; but a charge
from General Adams's brigade again threw them into a state of
confusion, which was now inextricable, and their ruin was complete.
Artillery, baggage, and every thing belonging to them, fell into our
hands. After pursuing them until dark, we halted about two miles
beyond the field of battle, leaving the Prussians to follow up the
victory.
This was the last, the greatest, and the most uncomfortable heap of
glory that I ever had a hand in, and may the deuce take me if I think
that every body waited there to see the end of it, otherwise it never
could have been so troublesome to those who did. We were, take us all
in all, a very bad army. Our foreign auxiliaries, who constituted more
than half of our numerical strength, with some exceptions, were little
better than a raw militia--a body without a soul, or like an inflated
pillow, that gives to the touch, and resumes its shape again when the
pressure ceases--not to mention the many who went clear out of the
field, and were only seen while plundering our baggage in their
retreat.
Our heavy cavalry made some brilliant charges in the early part of the
day; but they never knew when to stop, their ardour in following their
advantages carrying them headlong on, until many of them "burnt their
fingers," and got dispersed or destroyed.
Of that gallant corps, the royal artillery, it is enough to say, that
they maintained their former reputation--the first in the world--and
it was a serious loss to us, in the latter part of the day, to be
deprived of this more powerful co-operation, from the causes already
mentioned.
The British infantry and the King's German legion continued the
inflexible supporters of their country's honour throughout, and their
unshaken constancy under the most desperate circumstances showed that,
though they might be destroyed, they were not to be beaten.
If Lord Wellington had been at the head of his old Peninsula army, I
am confident that he would have swept his opponents off the face of
the earth immediately after their first attack; but with such a
heterogeneous mixture under his command, he was obliged to submit to a
longer day.
It will ever be a matter of dispute what the result of that day would
have been without the arrival of the Prussians: but it is clear to me
that Lord Wellington would not have fought at Waterloo unless Blucher
had promised to aid him with 30,000 men, as he required that number
to put him on a numerical footing with his adversary. It is certain
that the promised aid did not come in time to take any share whatever
in the battle. It is equally certain that the enemy had, long before,
been beaten into a mass of ruin, in condition for nothing but running,
and wanting but an apology to do it; and I will ever maintain that
Lord Wellington's last advance would have made it the same victory had
a Prussian never been seen there.
The field of battle, next morning, presented a frightful scene of
carnage; it seemed as if the world had tumbled to pieces, and
three-fourths of every thing destroyed in the wreck. The ground
running parallel to the front of where we had stood was so thickly
strewed with fallen men and horses, that it was difficult to step
clear of their bodies; many of the former still alive, and imploring
assistance, which it was not in our power to bestow.
The usual salutation on meeting an acquaintance of another regiment
after an action was to ask who had been hit? but on this occasion it
was "Who's alive?" Meeting one, next morning, a very little fellow, I
asked what had happened to them yesterday? "I'll be hanged," says he,
"if I know any thing at all about the matter, for I was all day
trodden in the mud and galloped over by every scoundrel who had a
horse; and, in short, that I only owe my existence to my
insignificance."
Two of our men, on the morning of the 19th, lost their lives by a very
melancholy accident. They were cutting up a captured ammunition-waggon
for firewood, when one of their swords striking against a nail, sent a
spark among the powder. When I looked in the direction of the
explosion, I saw the two poor fellows about twenty or thirty feet up
in the air. On falling to the ground, though lying on their backs or
bellies, some extraordinary effort of nature, caused by the agony of
the moment, made them spring from that position, five or six times, to
the height of eight or ten feet, just as a fish does when thrown on
the ground after being newly caught. It was so unlike a scene in real
life that it was impossible to witness it without forgetting, for a
moment, the horror of their situation.
I ran to the spot along with others, and found that every stitch of
clothes had been burnt off, and they were black as ink all over. They
were still alive, and told us their names, otherwise we could not have
recognized them; and, singular enough, they were able to walk off the
ground with a little support, but died shortly after.
Among other officers who fell at Waterloo, we lost one of the wildest
youths that ever belonged to the service. He seemed to have a
prophetic notion of his approaching end, for he repeatedly told us, in
the early part of the morning, that he knew the devil would have him
before night. I shall relate one anecdote of him, which occurred while
we were in Spain. He went, by chance, to pass the day with two
officers, quartered at a neighbouring village, who happened to be,
that day, engaged to dine with the clergyman. Knowing their visitor's
mischievous propensities, they were at first afraid to make him one of
the party; but, after schooling him into a suitable propriety of
behaviour, and exacting a promise of implicit obedience, they, at
last, ventured to take him. On their arrival, the ceremony of
introduction had just been gone through, and their host seated at an
open window, when a favourite cat of his went purring about the young
gentleman's boots, who, catching it by the tail, and giving it two or
three preparatory swings round his head, sent it flying out at the
window where the parson was sitting, who only escaped it by suddenly
stooping. The only apology the youngster made for his conduct was,
"Egad, I think I astonished that fellow!" but whether it was the cat
or the parson he meant I never could learn.
About twelve o'clock, on the day after the battle, we commenced our
march for Paris. I shall, therefore, leave my readers at Waterloo, in
the hope that, among the many stories of romance to which that and the
other celebrated fields gave birth, the foregoing unsophisticated one
of an eye-witness may not have been found altogether uninteresting.