with wellington at waterloo

(june 18, 1815)

in vain did cuirassiers in clouds surround them,

when, cannon thundering as the ocean raves,

they left our squares unmoved as they had found them,

firm as a rock amidst the ocean’s waves.

norman macleod.

many have been the explanations of napoleon’s failure at waterloo. it has been said that his star was on the wane and his health undermined, that he entrusted his fortunes to incompetent generals such as ney and grouchy, that his troops were not the soldiers of the early campaigns. but the truth of the matter is that napoleon was beaten here as his troops had been beaten in the peninsular simply by the dogged front of the british infantry. we have seen how the highlanders withstood the cavalry at quatre bras, how they stormed the french position at toulouse, how they were the better men at fuentes de o?oro. they were not alone in that quality of endurance and nerve. throughout the whole british army there was a confidence in itself that has remained till this day, and which is possessed by no other soldiers in the world. a remarkable testimony to this was made by general von müffling, a prussian officer, who in the curious changes of time was attached to wellington’s staff. “for a battle,” he says, “there is not perhaps in europe an army equal to the british; that is to say, none whose discipline and whole military tendency is so purely and exclusively calculated for giving battle. the british soldier is vigorous, well-fed, by nature both brave and intrepid, trained to the most rigorous discipline and admirably armed. the infantry resist the attacks of cavalry with great confidence, and when taken in flank or rear, british troops are less disconcerted than any european army.”

“marshal bugeaud,” says captain becke in his napoleon and waterloo, “has left it on record that ‘the british infantry are the best in the world,’—however, he was careful to add this significant statement—‘but fortunately there are not many of them.’”

it is probable that napoleon was misinformed regarding the strength of blücher’s forces, or else he underrated the efficiency of the prussian army. at any rate he was satisfied with instructing marshal grouchy to occupy himself in the pursuit of blücher while he dealt with wellington. it has been stated that grouchy failed in his duty, and that had he carried out the emperor’s instructions wellington might have been unable to withstand the furious assault of napoleon’s veterans. but the french offensive was fairly checked before ever blücher arrived.

in the meantime wellington prepared for battle, having as implicit a trust in blücher as had long ago existed between marlborough and eugene. throughout the long day at waterloo he maintained his ground in perfect composure and confidence, knowing that the prussians were nearing him at every hour.

the strength of the army under wellington was 50,000 infantry, 12,000 cavalry, 5000 odd artillery, with 156 guns. but of this number only 24,000 were british, and to quote from napier: “a french soldier would not be equal to more than one english soldier, but he would not be afraid to meet two dutch, prussians, or soldiers of the confederation.”

in the military and naval museum in whitehall there is a most admirable plan of the field of waterloo of considerable size and drawn to scale, and more instructive than pages of explanatory notes. but to put the matter quite simply, there was a valley some three miles long, varying in breadth here and there, while in close proximity to this valley ran a chain of hills in parallel direction on each side. the british forces were ranged on the north with the french army on the southern range, where their artillery confronted each other, while the advances of horse and foot were made over the valley underneath. the village of mont st. jean was behind the centre of the northern hills, and the other village, la belle alliance, behind the southern range. then there was a broad highway—a very important feature of the battle—leading from charleroi to brussels, and passing through both these villages, thus bisecting the english and the french lines. this road was the proposed route by which napoleon hoped to reach brussels, but was in reality to be the line of his retreat.

there were also some other important hamlets which were taken and retaken in the course of the day, on the right wing the flemish farmhouse of hougoumont, with its outbuildings, affording cover to whichever force was in possession. in the centre lay la haye sainte.

napoleon has criticised wellington for occupying the position he did. strategically he believed that it was a treacherous one, as it could not afford him any retreat. on the other hand, it was a protection for brussels, and in after years wellington himself remarked: “they never could have beaten us so that we could not have held the wood against them.” he referred to the forest of soignes, which certainly would have afforded cover for artillery against overwhelming forces.

on the morning of the 17th the 42nd marched from quatre bras to the undulating height of mont st. jean. on arriving there wellington said, “we shall retire no farther.” this was the first occasion on which the english commander had come into personal contact with napoleon. not since scipio and hannibal at zama had two such military giants met face to face—napoleon, who had swept victorious over europe; wellington, who, on a lesser scale, had, upon the fields of spain, driven the greatest french marshals before him. and now, upon the eve of this great battle, wellington stood upon high ground perfectly imperturbable, while not so far away napoleon passed along his line, receiving tumultuous cheers, inspiriting his soldiers to carry the english position by assault, firm in the belief that if his veteran troops by their very prestige could fling back the english lines, the victory was as good as won. certainly it was a man?uvre that had always, or nearly always proved successful against the armies of other nations, but had always failed in the peninsular against the british soldier. the french formation on this occasion can best be compared to and was inspired by the same motive as the prussian formation a hundred years later—it relied upon the discipline of men advancing in mass to carry a position at the point of the bayonet. the british army was in line.

much has been made in recent years of the part that the belgians played at quatre bras and waterloo, and it is only fair to a nation so closely associated with us to-day to point out that had not the dutch-belgian forces withstood ney’s first furious attack at quatre bras, british aid might have come too late to stem a disaster.

upon the field of waterloo the dutch-belgian brigade went into the action 18,000 strong, and lost 90 officers and 2000 odd men. the dutch-belgian troops were placed in front of picton’s division, a hopeless position to withstand the full weight of the french bombardment and d’erlon’s attack. that they failed is no reflection upon their gallantry. after their retirement past picton’s division they returned to take an important share in the action.

the battle commenced at noon on june 18, 1815, after a night of terrible rain, and napoleon opened the engagement by despatching his brother jerome to attack the farmhouse of hougoumont. the french poured down the southern heights, moving forward in unbroken regularity, only to find—as the prussian guard were to find long after at ypres—that the british guards were invincible. meanwhile, under sir denis pack were the black watch and the gordons, holding the line to the left of the road to brussels. following the attack launched on hougoumont came the second attack, which was directed against picton’s division. the story of how the comparatively small force under his command managed to withstand this attack, and how the scots greys poured like a river upon the confused french soldiery is an immortal incident in the history of the british army. after beating back the enemy, the command was given to the highlanders to open ranks, and a few minutes later the greys passed through, leaped the hedges, and prepared to charge the enemy. presently a galloper rode up with the command, “92nd, you must charge, for all the troops on your right and left have given way.”

the gordons, though exhausted with hard fighting, prepared to advance, and the scots greys assembled with them. the bagpipes struck up as the greys passed into the ranks of the 92nd, and with one accord, and shouting “scotland for ever!” the gordons gripped the stirrups of their comrades and swept into the mad charge. horse and man together, nothing could withstand that—for the glory of scotland they were ready to win through or die in the thick of the fight.

the french column was struck to the ground. two french eagles and 2000 prisoners were within a few minutes in the hands of the british. sir denis pack rode up with the memorable words, “highlanders, you have saved the day!”

but the highlanders had not matters all their own way. for hours they stood under a harassing fire, and to quote general foy: “we saw those sons of albion formed up on the plain between the woods of hougoumont and the village of mont st. jean. death was before them and in their ranks, disgrace in their rear. in this terrible situation neither the cannon-balls of the imperial guard, discharged almost at point-blank, nor the victorious cavalry of france, could make the least impression on the immovable british infantry.”

at last, upon the far horizon to his right, were seen the dim moving columns of the prussians coming to the aid of wellington. grouchy did not appear, and napoleon, knowing that he must achieve success now or never, opened a furious artillery fire upon the opposing lines. it was now 3.30 in the afternoon, and no part of the british position had been lost. the french cuirassiers were advanced against the english guns, and were decimated in their fruitless attacks on the right. meanwhile the prussians had attempted to carry by assault the village of planchenoit, an important strategical position in the line of napoleon’s retreat towards the frontier. a terrific conflict was waged here, for which napoleon was compelled to devote some of his finest troops. it became all along the line a question of who could stand the hardest pounding. at last napoleon, mounting his white horse, marengo, started out from the farmhouse, in which he had remained studying his maps, and rode to the spot where his veteran guard were to march past on their way into action. it was one of the most, if not the most dramatic moment in military history. standing upon a hillock, a figure beloved by all the war-worn troops of france, he merely pointed his arm towards the distant lines of the enemy, as though he would point to them the place of honour. it was enough. they passed him with thunderous tread and loud shouts of “vive l’empereur!” and so marching down the slope, formed up for their famous assault. just as the coldstreams received in silence and flung back again the furious onslaught of the prussian guard at ypres, so maitland’s brigade and the british guards awaited the attack. the frenchmen passed perfectly steadily across the open, shelled unceasingly by the british guns, and fired upon by the british infantry. they were quite unshaken. when ney’s horse crashed to the earth beneath him he pointed the way on foot. it was like the tramp of a deathless army.

the british guards were lying down to avoid the fire of the french artillery, but when the french came within some fifty yards one of the british officers cried, “up, guards, and at them!” at which historic words the british leapt to their feet and poured a round upon the french column. the old guard, unbroken, undismayed, advanced at a charge, but maitland’s men never ceased pouring volley after volley into their crowded ranks. in an attempt to form into open column, the enemy became disorganised. the opportunity was not missed by their opponents. with a loud cheer the british charged, driving the exhausted frenchmen back. their position was tragic. all this time their left flank was receiving an unremitting fire from the english infantry. it was impossible under such circumstances for even veteran troops, such as napoleon’s guard, to remain in action, and the sight of the broken ranks of the flower of the french army created more panic amongst the other troops than almost any feature of the battle. they were beaten but not dishonoured. how great then must their reverse have been!

napoleon hastily advanced his remaining battalions, and shortly after wellington knew the moment had dawned for the advance. the whole british line moved forward, having endured a ceaseless artillery fire for nine long hours, having repelled the impact of cavalry, and repulsed the french guard. wellington himself headed the advancing troops, and when warned of the danger replied, “never mind, let them fire away; the battle’s won, and my life is of no consequence to me now.”

the pipes struck up, the bugles sounded, the drums rolled above the noise of feet. away went the english guards, the black watch, the camerons, the gordons, the rifles—the triumphant british army. the whole french line was swept back in confusion. the old guard still rallied, protecting napoleon himself in one of its squares. but the day was lost, and soon the emperor joined the rabble of fugitives and set his face towards paris. the hour of his destiny had struck.

it was near la belle alliance that wellington met blücher. it was decided that, as the prussians were not so exhausted as the british, they should follow up the flying french. anton has given a little picture of the end of the day. “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.”

well might little peterkin ask then as now, “but what good came of it at last?”

another passage i cannot resist quoting. it is from the narrative of a soldier in dr. fitchett’s wellington’s men, and relates to the march on paris following waterloo. “at noon arrived in the neighbourhood of mons, where we overtook the greys, inniskillings, ross’s troop of horse artillery, and several other corps, both of cavalry and infantry.... the greys and the inniskillings were mere wrecks—the former, i think, did not muster 200 men.... we crossed after the greys, and came with them on the main road to maubeuge at the moment a highland regiment, which had come through mons, was passing. the moment the highlanders saw the greys an electrifying cheer burst spontaneously from the column, which was answered as heartily; and on reaching the road the two columns became blended for a few minutes—the highlanders running to shake hands with their brave associates in the late battle....”

the battle of waterloo was the culmination of many years’ conflict between the english and the french, and the final struggle between napoleon and wellington. we have seen how the rivalry with france was fought to a finish in canada and the west indies, in india, in the peninsular, and on the continent. after waterloo there was peace for many years. napoleon, banished to st. helena, was soon to die, and remain as a deathless memory amongst the old veterans of the armies he had led to victory. wellington was to win new triumphs, though infinitely less enduring, in political life, and to lose the fickle popularity of an english mob, dying long after in 1852. the highlanders, who had fought almost unceasingly for many years and in many parts of the world, and whose gallantry at waterloo brought them new laurels, were mainly engaged upon home service until a new generation heard in the far crimea the melancholy beating of the drums of war.