A Sketch of the Battle of Waterloo

Front matter

A SKETCH

OF THE

BATTLE OF WATERLOO.

Introduction

The following Compilation comprises—

First—A Sketch of the Battle of Waterloo, being a simple, but interesting narrative, interspersed with well-authenticated anecdotes of that memorable engagement.

Second—The Duke of Wellington's Official Despatch to Earl Bathurst, dated June 19th, 1815.

Third—Field-Marshal Prince Blucher's Official Report of the Operations of the Prussian Army of the Lower Rhine, describing the Battle of Ligny, on the 16th of June, and that of Waterloo on the 18th.

Fourth—Reflections on the Battles of Ligny and Quatre Bras; on the Battle of Waterloo, or La Belle Alliance, and on the Action at Wavre; with their consequences; by General Muffling.

The above selection from numerous papers relative to the battle of Waterloo, has been made with a view of connecting an interesting detail of facts, with official reports, and the remarks of a veteran commander. It is hoped that a perusal of the annexed pages will thus prove equally gratifying to the citizen and the soldier.

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A Sketch of the Battle of Waterloo

A SKETCH

OF THE

BATTLE OF WATERLOO.

At five o'clock in the morning of the 18th of June, 1815, the English army arrived at its destined position, at the end of the forest of Soigne. It occupied a rising ground, having in its front a gentle declivity. The extremity of the right wing was stationed at Merbe Braine. The enclosed country and deep ravines round the village protected the right flank, and rendered it impossible for the enemy to turn it. In the centre of the right was a country-house called Hougoumont, or Goumont (le château de Goumont). The house was loop-holed and strongly occupied; the garden and orchard were lined with light troops, and the wood before the house was maintained by some companies of the guards. The front of the right was thrown back to avoid a ravine which would have exposed it, and was nearly at right angles with the centre. It consisted of the second and fourth English divisions, the third and sixth Hanoverians, and the first of the Netherlands, and was commanded by lord Hill. The centre was composed of the corps of the prince of Orange, supported by the Brunswick and Nassau regiments, with the guards under general Cooke on the right, and the division of general Alten on the left. In front was the farm of la Haie Sainte, which was occupied in great force. The road from Genappe to Brussels ran through the middle of the centre. The left wing, consisting of the divisions of generals Picton, Lambert, and Kempt, extended to the left of La Haie, which it occupied, and the defiles of which protected the extremity of the left, and prevented it from being turned. The cavalry was principally posted in the rear of the left of the centre.

Separated by a valley varying from half to threefourths of a mile in breadth, were other heights following the bending of those on which the British army was posted. The advanced guard of the French reached these heights in the evening of the 17th, and some skirmishes took place between the outposts.

The night was dreadful. An incessant rain fell in torrents. The soldiers were up to their knees in mud, and many of them, particularly of the officers, who had not yet been able to change their ball dresses on leaving Brussels, laid themselves down on this comfortless bed, to rise no more. In the morning their limbs were stiffened by cold and wet, and they were unable to move. Few places could be found sufficiently free from mud to light a fire, and when the fire was lighted, the storm, which continued to pour pitilessly down, immediately extinguished it. Both armies equally suffered; but the day soon broke, and the soldiers sprung on their feet eager for the combat.

If the night was terrible to the soldiers, who were inured to the inclemency of the weather, it was far more dreadful to the wretched inhabitants of the villages in the rear of the French army. It had always been the policy of Napoleon at those critical times, when so much depended on the heroism of his troops, to relax the severity of his discipline, and to permit them to indulge in the most shameful excesses. They now abandoned themselves to more than usual atrocities. Every house was pillaged. The property which could not be carried away was wantonly destroyed, and the inhabitants fled in despair to the woods.

Notwithstanding the torrents of rain and the depth of the roads, Napoleon succeeded in bringing up his whole army, in the course of the night, and his numerous artillery, consisting of more than three hundred pieces. He had feared that the British would retire in the night, and when he saw them at the dawn of day occupying the position of the preceding evening, he could not contain his joy. "Ah!" he exclaimed, "I have them then, these English!"

A farmer who lived near the house called La Belle Alliance, was seized by the French, and carried to Napoleon, who, mounting him on horseback, tying him to the saddle, and giving the bridle into the hands of a trooper, compelled him to act as guide. Before any of the French troops were placed in the positions which they were to occupy, Napoleon ascended a neighbouring eminence, and acquainted himself with every feature of the surrounding country. His inquisitiveness knew no bounds. Not an inequality of the ground, not a hedge escaped him. He was employed in this preparation during four or five hours, and every observation was carefully noted in a map, which he carried in his hand.

The ground occupied by the two armies was the smallest in extent of front, compared with the numbers engaged, in the recollection of military men. The English line did not extend more than a mile and a-half in length, and the French line about two miles. This will partly account for the unparalleled losses which each party sustained, and particularly for the destruction caused by the artillery.

About nine o'clock the rain began to abate, and at eleven the French were in full position, and ready to advance to the attack. The left wing was commanded by Jerome Bonaparte; the centre by generals Reille and D'Erlon, and the right by count Lobau. The imperial guard was in reserve. The French army consisted of eighty thousand men, the duke of Wellington had not more than sixty-five thousand. The French regiments were the very élite of the army; but this was the first campaign which many of Wellington's troops had seen.

The leaders were acknowledged to be the best generals of the age. Napoleon had often frankly confessed that the duke was the second general in the world, reserving, with his characteristic vanity, the first rank to himself. This acknowledgment was always followed by the lamentation that he had not yet had the good fortune to cross him. When he set out from Paris, to place himself at the head of his troops, almost his last words to some of his friends were, "that he was at last going to measure swords with this Wellington, of whom he had no doubt that he should give a good account."

The duke of Wellington had successively vanquished every marshal who had been opposed to him, and now, for the first time, found himself confronted with their master. Never, in the annals of modern warfare, had two generals of equal reputation met, or two whose system of tactics was so diametrically opposite.

The plan of Napoleon was simple. It resembled that which, adopted by our naval commanders, has raised the character of the British navy to the very pinnacle of glory. The whole weight of his army was directed on one point, either where his opponent appeared to be weakest, or where success must be followed not merely by the discomfiture, but the annihilation of the foe. Regiments, divisions, whole armies, were sacrificed without hesitation to accomplish his favourite object. When one body retired in confusion, another was immediately ordered to occupy its place. "Forward! forward!" was the only reply to every intelligence of repulse or reverse; and candour must acknowledge, that his calculations were usually right, and his efforts crowned with unparalleled success.

The system of the duke of Wellington was the reverse. Never was any general so sparing of the blood of his soldiers. He usually awaited the attack of his opponent. No temporary or partial success could delude him to compromise the safety of his army: but his keen and eagle-eye detected the first error, or the first confusion or indecision of the enemy, and, with his characteristic promptitude, he availed himself of the critical moment, and the day was his own.

For the first time these renowned generals were opposed. The previous reputation which each had acquired, the kind of rivalry which existed between them, and the almost uniform success which had attended their different systems, would powerfully excite them to call into exercise all the resources of their genius, They likewise now fought not merely for glory. It was not one of those engagements that might be lost or won without much influence on the campaign. The fate of Europe depended on that day.

Bonaparte had rushed on with all his accumulated force. It was the last effort of despair. No new levies were at hand to repair his losses. Victory alone could procure him reinforcements; and if he was severely repulsed in this engagement he was undone for ever. On the other hand, if success attended him, the enthusiasm of the French would again be roused; thousands and tens of thousands would probably flock to his standard; the country which he now invaded would be obliged to declare in his favour, and he would be enabled to protract the war until winter closed the campaign. The generals and their troops felt how much depended on the event of that day, and never was abatlle more skilfully or bravely fought. As the troops of the respective armies advanced to their positions, Napoleon ascended an observatory a little in the rear, and on the highest ground in that part of the country beyond Hougoumont on the right. From this spot he commanded the whole of both lines. He was particularly struck with the fine appearance of some of the British troops. "How steadily," said he to his aides-de-camp, "these troops take their ground! How beautifully those cavalry form! Observe those grey horse (the Scotch Greys;) are they not noble troops? Yet in half an hour I shall cut them to pieces."

The duke of Wellington had despatched a courier on the preceding evening to prince Blucher, stating that he expected to be attacked, and requesting the co-operation of as many divisions as he could spare. The marshal promised to be with him in person; and proposed that, should the French army decline the combat, the combined English and Prussian troops should become the assailants.

When the formidable forces of the French were all drawn up on the opposite heights, one of the officers of the duke ventured to express some alarm; and wished that the Prussians were arrived. "The roads are heavy," replied his grace: "they cannot be here before two or three o'clock, and my brave fellows will keep double that force at bay until then."

About eleven o'clock the cannonade began, and soon became general through the whole of the line. At half-past eleven, the left wing of the French advanced against the château of Hougoumont. The battalions which occupied the wood in front defended themselves with courage against the superior numbers that pressed upon them; but after many desperate attacks the French penetrated to the house. The English were now reinforced by the second brigade of guards, who, occupying the château, and lining the orchard and walls of the garden, resisted every effort of the enemy to dislodge them. The French forced their way to the very doors of the château, but were there received with so close and well-directed a fire, that they retired in confusion, or were charged with the bayonet and overthrown. Again they penetrated, and again were driven back. In less than half an hour fifteen hundred men perished in the orchard only, which did not contain more than four acres.

At length the house was set on fire by the French. A most horrible scene now commen- ced. In one part the combat continued with unabated fury, although both parties were enveloped with flames. In another, the Brithish, after having repulsed the enemy, were unwilling to quit their station, although the conflagration rapidly advanced upon them, and the building threatened to crush them with its fall. In one of the out-houses the wounded of both parties, who were indiscriminately heaped on one another, perished by the most horrible of deaths. In vain their shrieks echoed through the wood. The combatants were too fiercely engaged to lend them any assistance, and it was soon impossible to extricate them from the surrounding flames.

The château was now reduced to a mere shell, and the French were enabled to approach it with greater ease; but as often as they penetrated within the walls, they were driven out with the bayonnet, and at length, being foiled in every attempt, and having suffered immense loss, they retreated to the main body. The British had received orders not to pursue them beyond a certain point, and contented themselves with continuing to occupy the post which they had so bravely maintened.

Had this position been carried, the result must have been fatal to the British army. Immediately behind it were some heights which would have commanded and enfiladed the whole of the duke of Wellington's lines. A reference to the plan of the battle of the 18th will convince the reader, that had the French been able to gain possession of it, and to have planted their artillery precisely at that angle, their fire would have carried destruction through the whole of the British position. The reader will not therefore wonder that this was selected as the first object of attack, and that that attack was continued with such obstinacy. During the whole of the day, the enemy ceased not to make the most desperate attempts to carry this important position.

In the mean time, to cover his real design, and to prevent the duke from sending reinforcements to Hougoumont, the action was briskly commenced through the whole of the line. But when Bonaparte was convinced that he had failed in accomplishing his first object, the fire of cannon and musketry became more terrible and murderous. Columns of French infantry and cavalry, preceded by a formidable artillery, advanced from every point, ascended the eminence on which the British were posted, between La Haie Sainte and Hougoumont, and precipitated themselves on their squares. In vain the French artillery mowed down whole ranks of their opponents. The chasms were instantly filled, and not one foot of ground was lost. "What brave troops!" exclaimed Napoleon to his staff. 'It is a pity to destroy them; but I shall beat them at last." In vain the British reserved their fire until the enemy had approached within a few paces, and then, with one well-directed volley, levelled whole squadrons of the foe. Other troops succeeded and the French pressed on to closer and more destructive combat.

The principal masses of the French were now directed on the left of the British, where were posted the divisions of generals Picton and Kempt, that is, on the left side of the road from La Haie Sainte. The object of Napoleon in his attack was, to turn the left of the allies, and by separating them from the Prussians, cut off the retreat of the duke in that direction. The Scotch regiments displayed all the gallantry by which they had been distinguished in the battle of the 16th, and sustained the principal brunt of the affair.

A strong column of the enemy advanced amidst the destructive fire of the British artillery without discharging a shot. They gained the height, and pressed on, determined to carry the position. Sir T. Picton waited not for their attack, but forming his division into a solid square, advanced to the charge. The French were appalled by the boldness of the manœuvre. They hesitated, fired a volley, turned an fled. That volley was fatal to one of the bravest commanders that the British army boasted. Sir T. Picton received a musket ball in his temple, and falling, expired without a struggle. On examining the body, it was discovered that he had received a dangerous wound on the 16th, which he had concealed from all except his valet, and notwithstanding which he had continued to discharge the arduous duties of his profession.

Notwithstanding this partial repulse, the enemy pressed on, and at length succeeded in driving back the Scotch division, not, however, until every resistance had been made which the undaunted bravery, of the Highland regiments could offer. But the brigade of heavy cavalry coming up, supported by the twelfth light dragoons, the enemy's masses were compelled to retreat.

A column of two thousand men bore down on the position which was occupied by the ninety-second regiment, which, from the losses it had sustained on the 16th, and the galling fire to which it had now been exposed, was reduced to two hundred men. This little, but valiant band, shrunk not from the unequal contest. They would not even wait for the attack, but forming themselves into line, and presenting a narrow, but compact front, charged on the centre of the column; and, had the French stood firm, their flanks might have closed round, and completely annihilated the gallant Scotch. But the enemy was unable to resist the impetuosity of the charge; the centre of the column was pierced, and the Scotch Greys, immediately profiting by the confusion, dashed in at the opening. The two regiments cheered each other, shouting "Scotland for ever!" and the enemy were, to a man, destroyed or taken prisoners.

A column of French cavalry now advanced, with the cuirassiers at their head, to endeavour to save their infantry. The Scotch Greys had been reinforced by the brigade of heavy dragoons, and the most dreadful engagement of cavalry which modern warfare has witnessed, now took place. The impenetrable cuirasses of the French gave them a decided advantage over the English, who could only strike at the neck or limbs of their antagonists. But nothing could resist the determined valour of the British, and after a long and murderous struggle, the cuirassiers turned their horses and fled. The slaughter was then dreadful, but the British had strict orders not to pursue them beyond the lines, and the scattered remnant of the French sought refuge in the rear of their infantry. The forty-ninth and one hundred and fifth French regiments lost their eagles in this brilliant affair.

It has been a matter of surprise, that in an engagement so sanguinary and decisive, only two eagles should have been taken. The circumstance admits of an easy explanation. Most of the French regiments consist of four battalions, yet only one eagle is assigned to the whole regiment. In the British service every battalion has a pair of colours, so that a given number of English troops has eight times as many standards as an equal number of French. The eagle is likewise easily removed from the pole, and on the near approach of danger, the ensign endeavours to conceal it about his person, and thus save the honour of the regiment. To which it should be added, that in this affair very few of the regiments had eagles. They had been restored only to, those who were present at the Champ-de-Mai.

At this period of the engagement, the brave sir William Ponsonby fell on that part of the field, to the extreme left of La Haie Sainte, behind the farm of Mont St. Jean, in advance towards Frischemont. He led his brigade against the Polish lancers, and checked at once their destructive attacks on the British infantry. Never was a more timely, a more brilliant, or a more successful charge: but the impetuous valour of two of his regiments hurrying them too far in the pursuit, he galloped forward, attended by only one aide-de-camp, to restrain their rashness. He entered a newly-ploughed field, where the ground was exceedingly soft, and being badly mounted, his horse sunk in the mire, and was utterly incapable of extricating itself. At this instant a body of lancers approached him at full speed. Sir William saw that his fate was decided. He took out a picture and his watch, and was in the act of giving them to his aide-de-camp, to deliver to his wife and family, when the lancers came up. They were both killed on the spot. His body was found lying by the side of his horse, pierced with seven lance wounds. Many of those whose unmanageable courage led to the destruction of their chief, perished here; but before the day was ended, the Polish lancers were almost entirely cut to pieces by the brigade which this brave officer had led against them.

Napoleon again changed the object of his attack, and bringing up a numerous body of fresh troops, directed them on the farm of La Haie Sainte. This was a point as important to carry as either the position of Hougoumont or La Haie. If he was successful here, he would break the British line, and cut off the retreat of the duke of Wellington on the road to Brussels.

Both parties felt the important of the position, and nobly exerted themselves, the one to carry, and the other to defend it, As the res- pective battalions engaged were weakened or destroyed, perpetual reinforcements occupied their places, and for more than an hour the contest was maintained with doubtful and equal success. At length the ammunition of the allies was expended, and the enemy penetrated to the farm, and surrounded it. Yet even then, the German Legion which occupied it, scorned to yield. They desperately defended themselves with the bayonet; nor was the position carried until all its defenders had caesed to breathe.

Fortune now seemed to smile on the French. Napoleon seized the advantage with all his characteristic promptness, and pressing on with immense masses of infantry and cavalry, attacked the centre, which was now exposed. The first battalions that he encountered, overwhelmed and crushed by superior numbers, gave way. Napoleon deemed the victory his own, and despatched a courier to Paris with the intelligence that the day was won.

Bonaparte, following up his advantages too precipitately, and believing that the new levies of the duke could not resist the shock, ordered his immense cavalry to advance, and charge upon the centre of the allies.

The cuirassiers and lancers rushed on at the head of the columns. They precipitated themselves on the British squares. A few companies which were slow or awkward in their evolutions, were in a moment cut to pieces; but wherever the squares were formed the enemy could make no impression. In vain, with unexampled courage, the French cavalry walked their horses round the British squares, and dashed at the slightest opening; in vain when they arrived within a short distance, a few of them rushed on, and would have nobly sacrificed themselves, by receiving the fire of their opponents, while the main body waited to charge on the British ere they could reload their pieces, or fill up the chasms. The cool intrepidity of the allied infantry baffled every attempt to break them.

Other squadrons of French cavalry penetrated between the squares, and desperately charged on the position which the duke and his staff occupied. It was their evident object to signalize themselves by his death or capture. His personal escort was compelled to be continually on the alert, and was frequently closely engaged with the enemy.

The British cavalry now took part in the action. It fiercely charged the cuirassiers, lancers, and chasseurs, who had penetrated the line, and the battle was bravely contested, man to man.

Napoleon saw the error which he had committed, and the whole centre of his infantry was brought forward to assist, if possible, to disengage the cavalry. A close column of French pressed forward, overpowered every resistance, and marched on to carry the village of Mont St. Jean, in the rear of the British position.

The duke of Wellington felt the critical situation in which he was placed, and presenting himself wherever the danger was most imminent, led on in person several successive charges. When any of the squares appeared to waver, or were almost broken, he threw himself into the midst of them, and the consciousness of the treasure which was then committed to their care rendered them firm as adamant. At length he succeeded in arresting the progress of the French, and snatching from them every advantage that they had gained. They were driven from the eminence which they had carried; the success was vigorously followed up, the farm of La Haie Sainte retaken, and the combatants again occupied the positions which they had held at the commencement of the affair, except that the French continued to occupy a small mound on the left of the road from Brussels to Charleroi, and from which they could not be dislodged till the grand advance of the British army at the close of the engagement.

With the greatest difficulty the duke could now restrain the impetuosity of his troops. Wherever he appeared he was hailed with enthusiastic shouts, and eager demands to be led against the enemy. The soldiers were tired of standing for so many successive hours exposed to a murderous fire, and their energies confined to merely driving back the squadrons which rushed upon them. "Not yet, not yet, my brave fellows!" was the duke's reply. "Be firm a little longer; you shall have at them by and by."

The attack on the château of Hougoumont had recommenced, and continued during the day, but at no period were the French for a moment in possession of it. Bringing forward, however, some strong bodies of infantry and cavalry, they made a circuit round the château, and advanced to the British position, on the eminence by which it was commanded. Here, as in the centre, the enemy's cavalry boldly penetrated the squares and for awhile appeared masters of the position; but the British dragoons coming up, a strange and awful scene of confusion ensued. The artillery of the two armies was yet opposed, and poured forth an incessant torrent of round and grape-shot. Suddenly the artillery would wheel round, and massive columns of infantry would advance, and either engage in a close and destructive fusillade, or charge with the bayonet; while in the rear of the allied infantry, the cavalry of the two armies maintened a gallant and doubtful combat.

The thirtieth and seventy-third regiments sustained several charges of the cuirassiers. Protected by their iron breastplates, they galloped up to the very bayonets of the infantry, hoping that some heart might fail, and that the smallest opening might be made through which they might penetrate; but not in a single instance did they succeed in making the least impression. The horsemen had no sooner passed than the regiment again deployed into line, that its fire might be more extended and effectual. They had scarcely completed the evolution, when the word was again given, "Reform-square; prepare to receive cavalry." The cuirassiers repeatedly walked round these gallant regiments, eagerly watching for an opportunity to dash in.

Quitting the thirtieth and seventy-third, the cuirassiers rushed on the sixty-ninth, who occupied a neighbouring position, and, coming upon them before the square was completely formed, committed dreadful slaughter. But ere the day closed, the brave remains of the regiment nobly avenged the death of their comrades.

The first foot-guards were for a moment almost cut off from the rest of the army, and surrounded by the enemy's cavalry, who re- peatedly charged on every side of the square at once. Their loss was considerable; but though the soldiers rapidly fell, no chasm was for a moment left. The files were closed, and the square gradually diminished, nor would they have surrendered though cut off to nearly the last man. At length the British cavalry came to their relief, and the few fine fellows who were left effected their escape. : In every part of the field the intrepidity of the allies prevailed, and the French were driven back to their former positions, with immense loss.

Now commenced an uninterrupted series of attacks through the whole line, but principally on the centre, sometimes with infantry, at other times with cavalry, and then with both united; while nearly three hundred pieces of artillery played on every part of the British position. The slaughter was dreadful; yet it would have been greater had not the ground been thoroughly soaked with rain. On this account the shots seldom rose after they had once touched the ground, and they never bounded along as when the ground is dry. The shells likewise frequently buried themselves, and when they exploded, produced no other effect than casting up a tremendous fountain of mud.

The combat had continued with unabated fury nearly six hours, and almost one-third of the allied force was killed or wounded. The Prussians, so long and ardently wished for, did not yet arrive. The duke began to fear that they had been employed or defeated by the French corps which had been placed to observe them on the left.

The reserves of the duke of Wellington were now all in action, and the French reserves were not yet brought forward. His troops were diminished in numbers, and worn out with fatigue. The brave Scotch division was reduced from six thousand to less than two thousand men. The sixth division had been almost destroyed without firing a gun. The spirits of the soldiers began to droop, and it required the utmost exertion of the officers to prevent them from yielding to despair. They scorned the thought of retreat; they were even eager to be led against the enemy: but thus to stand and be murdered without resistance was more than they could bear. They were tired of having nothing to occupy their attention, but the dreadful roar of the artillery, the fall of their companions around them, and mournful cries of the wounded. An indifference to life was fast spreading through their ranks, and they resigned themselves to their fate. The mind of the British commander was a prey to the most anxious suspense. He feared that success was now more than doubtful. Should another hour pass, and Blucher not appear, the battle was inevitably lost. Yet he was cool, collected, and apparently cheerful; and while one regiment continued firm at its post, he would not resign the contest. An aide-de-camp now came with the information that the fifth division was almost destroyed, and that it was utterly impossible that they could longer maintain their ground. "I cannot help it," said he, "they must keep their ground with myself to the last man. …" "Would to God, that night or Blucher were come!"