It was on Sunday, 18th June, 1815, that the famous battle of Waterloo
was fought. The British army of 67,600 men and the French army of
72,000 lay on the open field the night before that memorable struggle.
It had been a wet and stormy night; at dawn the rain was falling
heavily, the ground was saturated, and the troops in the rival armies
were thoroughly drenched. About nine o'clock it cleared up, but on
account of the rainfall no movement was made by the French till
towards twelve o'clock.
On the night of the 17th the Duke of Wellington made every portion of
his army take up the position it was to occupy on the following day.
He slept a few hours at the village of Waterloo and rose early in the
morning to write letters, giving orders what was to be done in case
the battle was lost: although he felt sure of winning.
Before leaving the village he saw to the preparation of hospitals for
the wounded, and to the arrangements made for the distribution of
the reserves of ammunition. Then mounting his favourite charger,
Copenhagen, he rode to the positions where his men were posted, and
made a careful and thorough inspection. The farm house of Hougoumont,
where some of the most furious fighting of the day took place,
received his special attention.
Having thus done all that a commander could do to ensure the success
of the day, he rode back to the high ground from which he could
command a full view of the battle, and with a face calm and serene
waited for the French attack.
It was this serenity which had so great an effect on his troops. They
knew their great commander, and had confidence in him, and this aided
them during that eventful day in holding their positions with that
stubborn courage which destroyed all the hopes of the Emperor
Napoleon.
At Waterloo for the first time the two greatest commanders of the age
met face to face. Here across the valley they watched each other in
stern anticipation as the church bells called worshippers together for
prayer.
At about half-past eleven Napoleon's troops advanced to the attack;
and from this time till six or seven o'clock a series of terrific
charges continued to be made by the French, resisted and defeated by
the steady bravery of the British and Germans.
The duke was often in the thick of the fight, and in so great danger
that his staff advised him for the good of the army to withdraw to a
somewhat safer position. Passing one of the squares of grenadiers a
shell fell among them, and the duke waited to see the result. Several
soldiers were blown to pieces by the bursting of the shell, but
Wellington seemed quite unmoved either by the terrible sight or his
own danger.
All day long the duke was cool as if he had been riding among his men
in Hyde Park. Wherever he went a murmur of "Silence! stand to your
front!" was heard, and at his presence men grew steady as on parade.
Again and again commanders told him of the fearful havoc made in the
ranks of their brigades, and asked either for support or to be allowed
to withdraw their men. They generally received this answer, "It is
impossible; you must hold the ground to the last man".
When asked by some of his staff what they should do if he fell, he
gave the same answer, "My plan is simply to stand my ground here to
the last man".
The duke seemed to bear a charmed life. Every member of his staff but
one was during the day either killed or wounded, whilst he escaped
unhurt. Wherever the danger seemed greatest there was the duke to be
found inspiriting his men, restraining them, or putting fresh heart
into them.
"Hard pounding this, gentlemen!" he remarked to a battalion on which
the French shells were falling with destructive fury; "but we will try
who can pound the longest." "Wait a little longer, my lads," was the
duke's reply to the murmur which reached him from some of his troops
who had suffered heavily from the French fire and were anxious to
charge, "and you shall have your wish."
Once when the fire was concentrated on the spot where he was with
his staff he told them to separate a little, so as to afford a less
conspicuous mark for the enemy.
At another time, when some German troops hesitated to advance against
the French, the duke put himself at their head.
When Napoleon's Old Guard was advancing up the hill, the only sight
they could see was the duke and a few mounted officers, till a voice
was heard, "Up, guards, and at them!" And the best men in the whole
French army, the pick of the bravest of the brave, fell back before
the onset of the British guards.
At about eight o'clock the duke gave the joyful signal for an advance
all along the line. For nearly nine hours the British had been stormed
at with shot and shell, had been charged again and again, and had
stood firm though impatient. Now they received the signal with a
fierce delight, and dashed forward against the enemy with a fury which
nothing could resist.
The duke was amongst the first to advance, and spoke joyously to the
men as he rode along. The bullets were whistling around him, and one
of his staff ventured to point out to him the terrible danger he
was running. "Never mind," said the duke, "let them fire away: the
battle's won, and my life is of no consequence now."
About 15,000 men out of Wellington's army were killed or wounded on
the day of this great battle. But Europe was saved.
The duke, who appeared so calm and unmoved in battle, thus wrote just
afterwards, when the excitement of the conflict was over: "My heart
is broken at the terrible loss I have sustained in my old friends and
companions and my poor soldiers. Believe me, nothing except a battle
lost can be half so melancholy as a battle won."