"Sacred to the memory of Alexander Hay, Esq., of Nunraw,Cornet in the 16th Light Dragoons, aged 18 years, who fell gloriously in the Memorable Battle of Waterloo, June 18, 1815."O dolor atque decus magnum ...Hæc te prima dies bello dedit, hæc eadem aufert."This tablet was placed here by his Brothers and Sisters."
"Sacred to the memory of Alexander Hay, Esq., of Nunraw,Cornet in the 16th Light Dragoons, aged 18 years, who fell gloriously in the Memorable Battle of Waterloo, June 18, 1815.
"This tablet was placed here by his Brothers and Sisters."
(27)No doubt Lieutenant-General John Mackenzie who was in command at Antwerp. He succeeded Sir Colin Halkett in that post. SeeArmy Listfor 1815, p. 8.
(28)Another indication that it was in the village of Mont St Jean and not Waterloo.
(29)"One of the most painful visits I ever paid was to a little wretched cottage at the end of the village which was pointed out to me as the place where De Lancey was lying mortally wounded. How wholly shocked I was on entering, to find Lady De Lancey seated on the only broken chair the hovel contained, by the side of her dying husband. I made myself known. She grasped me by the hand, and pointed to poor De Lancey covered with his coat, and with just a spark of life left."—Reminiscences, etc., by Captain William Hay, C.B., p. 202.
(30)Creevey states that as he was on his way from Brussels to Waterloo on Tuesday the 20th June, the Duke overtook him and said he was going to see Sir Frederick Ponsonby and De Lancey. The Duke was in plain clothes and riding in a curricle with Colonel Felton Hervey.—The Creevey Papers, p. 238.
(31)Probably the Duke had in his mind the charge of Lord Edward Somerset's Household Brigade against the French Cuirassiers, which took place about 2 o'clock. Alava, in his report to the Spanish Government, calls it "the most sanguinary cavalry fight perhaps ever witnessed."
(32)This was the general opinion at the time. Four days after the battle an officer in the 3rd Battalion of the 1st Foot Guards wrote as follows: "I constantly saw the noble Duke of Wellington riding backwards and forwards like the Genius of the storm, who, borne upon its wings, directed its thunder where to break. He was everywhere to be found, encouraging, directing, animating. He was in a blue short cloak, and a plain cocked hat, his telescope in his hand; there was nothing that escaped him, nothing that he did not take advantage of, and his lynx eyes seemed to penetrate the smoke and forestall the movements of the foe" (p. 42,Battle of Waterloo, 11th edition, 1852, L. Booth). A highly interesting remark from the Duke's lips just before the attack made by the Imperial Guard has been preserved in a letter written at Nivelles on the 20th June, by Colonel Sir A.S. Frazer. "'Twice have I saved this day by perseverance,' said his Grace before the last great struggle, and said so most justly." This seems to coincide with the observation which the Duke made to Creevey at Brussels the morning after the battle. "By God! I don't think it would have been done, if I had not been there."
(33)Another proof that it was Mont St Jean and not Waterloo.
(34)Probably James Powell, an apothecary in the Medical Department. Date of rank, 9th September 1813. SeeArmy Listfor 1815, p. 93. In the Army List of 1817, and in subsequent Army Lists he is shown with ablackletter Wbefore his name, as being in possession of the Waterloo Medal. His last appearance in the Army List is in 1841, in which issue he is shown on page 340 as a surgeon on half-pay.
(35)John Robert Hume was a Deputy-Inspector of theMedical Department. SeeArmy Listfor 1815, p. 90. He also held the appointment of surgeon to the Duke of Wellington. He was in attendance on the memorable occasion when a duel took place in Battersea Fields between the Duke of Wellington and Earl Winchilsea, 21st March 1829. He died in 1857. SeeDictionary of National Biography, vol. xxviii., p. 229.
The following is Dr Hume's account of his visit to the Duke the morning after the battle. "I came back from the field of Waterloo with Sir Alexander Gordon, whose leg I was obliged to amputate on the field late in the evening. He died rather unexpectedly in my arms about half-past three in the morning of the 19th. I was hesitating about disturbing the Duke, when Sir Charles Broke-Vere came. He wished to take his orders about the movement of the troops. I went upstairs and tapped gently at the door, when he told me to come in. He had as usual taken off his clothes, but had not washed himself. As I entered, he sat up in bed, his face covered with the dust and sweat of the previous day, and extended his hand to me, which I took and held in mine, whilst I told him of Gordon's death, and of such of the casualties as had come to my knowledge. He was much affected. I felt the tears dropping fast upon my hand, and looking towards him, saw them chasing one another in furrows over his dusty cheeks. He brushed them suddenly away with his left hand, and said to me in a voice tremulous with emotion, 'Well, thank God, I don't know what it is to lose a battle; but certainly nothing can be more painful than to gain one with the loss of so many of one's friends.'"—(Extract from a Lecture by Montague Gore, 1852.)
(36)Stephen Woolriche was a Deputy-Inspector of the Medical Department. SeeArmy Listfor 1815, p. 90. His name appears for the last time in the Army List of 1855-56.By that time he had gained a C.B., and held the rank of Inspector-General of the Medical Department on half-pay.
(37)General Francis Dundas (Army Listfor 1815, p. 3) was Colonel of the 71st Highland Light Infantry. He had served in the American War, and afterwards at the Cape. At the time of the alarm of a French invasion, of England in 1804-5, he commanded a portion of the English forces assembled on the south coast under Sir David Dundas, the Commander-in-Chief, who married an aunt of Sir William De Lancey. Sir David Dundas was at this time Governor of Chelsea Hospital, where he died at the age of eighty-five, on the 18th February 1820.—(SeeDictionary of National Biography, vol. xvi., p. 185.)
(38)Sir Hew Dalrymple Hamilton, fourth baronet, was born on the 3rd January 1774, and married, on the 19th May 1800, Jane, eldest daughter of the first Lord Duncan of Camperdown.
(39)There were at that time three Protestant cemeteries at Brussels. This was the St Josse Ten Noode Cemetery, on the south side of the Chaussée de Louvain. Many were here buried who had died of wounds received at Waterloo, including Major Archibald John Maclean, 73rd Highlanders; Major William J. Lloyd, R.A.; Captain William Stothert, Adjutant, 3rd Foot Guards; Lieut. Michael Cromie, R.A.; Lieut. Charles Spearman, R.A.; Lieut. John Clyde, 23rd Royal Welsh Fusiliers. SeeTimesof 9th February 1889.
(40)In 1889, Sir William De Lancey's remains were exhumed from the old, disused cemetery of St Josse Ten Noode, and, along with those of a number of other British officers who fell in the Waterloo campaign, were removed to the beautiful cemetery of Evere, three miles to the north-east of Brussels. On the 26th August 1890, H.R.H. the Duke of Cambridgeunveiled the celebrated Waterloo memorial which contains their bones.
The following was the inscription on the gravestone which Lady De Lancey erected:—
“THIS STONE IS PLACED TO MARK WHERE THE BODY OFCOL. SIR W. HOWE DE LANCEY,QUARTERMASTER-GENERAL,IS INTERRED.HE WAS WOUNDED AT THE BATTLE OFBELLE ALLIANCE (WATERLOO)ON THE 18TH JUNE 1815.”
memorial
The Waterloo Memorial in Evere Cemetery.
(41)Tuesday, 4th April1815.—This date is confirmed by theGentleman's Magazine, 1815, which states: "April 4, Col. Sir W. De Lancey, K.C.B., to Magdalene, daughter of Sir James Hall, Bart."
On the other hand, theAbridged Narrativestates as follows:—"I was married in March 1815. At that time Sir William De Lancey held an appointment on the Staff in Scotland. Peace appeared established, and I had no apprehension of the trials that awaited me. While we were spending the first week of our marriage at Dunglass, the accounts of the return of Bonaparte from Elba arrived, and Sir William was summoned to London, and soon after ordered to join the army at Brussels as Adjutant-Quartermaster-General." Napoleon landed in France on the 1st March, and in the LondonEvening Mailof the issue headed:—
"From Wednesday, March 8, to Friday, March 10, 1815," the following appears as a postscript:—
"London,"Friday Afternoon, March10."Letters have been received at Dover of the most interesting import; they announce the flight of Buonaparte from the islandof Elba, and his arrival at Frejus, the place at which he landed on his return from Egypt. We have seen the King of France's proclamation against him, dated the 6th instant, declaring him and his adherents traitors and rebels: of these he is said to have had at first only 1300, but to have directed his march immediately on Lyons. It was considered that he would make a dash at Paris. Now, however, the villain's fate is at issue."
"London,"Friday Afternoon, March10.
"Letters have been received at Dover of the most interesting import; they announce the flight of Buonaparte from the islandof Elba, and his arrival at Frejus, the place at which he landed on his return from Egypt. We have seen the King of France's proclamation against him, dated the 6th instant, declaring him and his adherents traitors and rebels: of these he is said to have had at first only 1300, but to have directed his march immediately on Lyons. It was considered that he would make a dash at Paris. Now, however, the villain's fate is at issue."
This news probably reached Edinburgh by coach a week later, and may have been known at Dunglass on the following day, the 18th March.
It seems doubtful, therefore, whether Lady De Lancey did not make a mistake of a month in dating her marriage exactly three months before the 4th of July. She may possibly have been married in March.
The "Hundred Days" cover the period between Napoleon's first proclamation at Lyons on the 13th March and his abdication on the 22nd June.
It will therefore be seen that the married life of the De Lanceys, if it extended from the 4th March to the 26th June 1815, covered this period, with just thirteen days to spare.
Letters to Captain Basil Hall, R.N., from Sir Walter Scott and Charles Dickens.[34]
[34]From the autograph collection in the possession of Lady Parsons.
[34]From the autograph collection in the possession of Lady Parsons.
"My dear Captain Hall,
"I received with great pleasure your kind proposal to visit Tweedside. It arrived later than it should have done. I lose no time in saying that you and Mrs Hall cannot come but as welcome guests any day next week, which may best suit you. If you have time to drop a line we will make our dinner hour suit your arrival, but you cannot come amiss to us.
"I am infinitely obliged to you for Captain Maitland's plain, manly, and interesting narrative. It is very interesting, and clears Bonaparte of much egotism imputed to him. I am making a copy which, however, I will make no use of except asextracts, and am very much indebted to Captain Maitland for the privilege.
"Constable proposed a thing to me which was of so much delicacy that I scarce know how [sic] about it, and thought of leaving it till you and I met.
"It relates to that most interesting and affecting journal kept by my regretted and amiable friend, Mrs Hervey,[35]during poor De Lancey's illness. He thought with great truth that it would add very great interest as an addition to the letters which I wrote from Paris soon after Waterloo, and certainly I would consider it as one of the most valuable and important documents which could be published as illustrative of the woes of war. But whether this could be done without injury to the feelings of survivors is a question not for me to decide, and indeed I feel unaffected pain in even submitting it to your friendly ear who I know will put no harsh construction upon my motive which can be no other than such as would do honour to the amiable and lamented authoress. I never read anything which affected my own feelings more strongly or which Iam sure would have a deeper interest on those of the public. Still the work is of a domestic nature, and its publication, however honourable to all concerned, might perhaps give pain when God knows I should be sorry any proposal of mine should awaken the distresses which time may have in some degree abated. You are the only person who can judge of this with any certainty or at least who can easily gain the means of ascertaining it, and as Constable seemed to think there was a possibility that after the lapse of so much time it might be regarded as matter of history and as a record of the amiable character of your accomplished sister, and seemed to suppose there was some probability of such a favour being granted, you will consider me as putting the question on his suggestion. It could be printed as the Journal of a lady during the last illness of a General Officer of distinction during her attendance upon his last illness, or something to that purpose. Perhaps it may be my own high admiration of the contents of this heartrending diary which makes me suppose a possibility that after such a lapse of years, the publication may possibly (as that which cannot but do the highest honour to the memory of the amiable authoress) may not be judged altogether inadmissible. Youmay and will, of course, act in this matter with your natural feeling of consideration, and ascertain whether that which cannot but do honour to the memory of those who are gone can be made public with the sacred regard due to the feelings of survivors.
[35]Lady De Lancey married again in 1819 Captain Henry Hervey, Madras Infantry, and died in 1822.Gentleman's Magazine, vol. lxxxix, Part I., p. 368, and vol. cii., Part II., p. 179.
[35]Lady De Lancey married again in 1819 Captain Henry Hervey, Madras Infantry, and died in 1822.Gentleman's Magazine, vol. lxxxix, Part I., p. 368, and vol. cii., Part II., p. 179.
"Lady Scott begs to add the pleasure she must have in seeing Mrs Hall and you at Abbotsford, and in speedy expectation of that honour I am always,
"Dear Sir,"Most truly yours,"Walter Scott.
"Abbotsford, 13thOctober1825."
"Devonshire Terrace,"Tuesday evening, 16thMarch1841.
"My dear Hall,
"For I see it must be 'juniores priores,' and that I must demolish the ice at a blow.
"I have not had courage until last night to read Lady De Lancey's narrative, and, but for your letter, I should not have mastered it even then. One glance at it, when through your kindness itfirst arrived, had impressed me with a foreboding of its terrible truth, and I really have shrunk from it in pure lack of heart.
"After working at Barnaby all day, and wandering about the most wretched and distressful streets for a couple of hours in the evening—searching for some pictures I wanted to build upon—I went at it, at about ten o'clock. To say that the reading that most astonishing and tremendous account has constituted an epoch in my life—that I shall never forget the lightest word of it—that I cannot throw the impression aside, and never saw anything so real, so touching, and so actually present before my eyes, is nothing. I am husband and wife, dead man and living woman, Emma and General Dundas, doctor and bedstead—everything and everybody (but the Prussian officer—damn him) all in one. What I have always looked upon as masterpieces of powerful and affecting description, seem as nothing in my eyes. If I live for fifty years, I shall dream of it every now and then, from this hour to the day of my death, with the most frightful reality. The slightest mention of a battle will bring the whole thing before me. I shall never think of the Duke any more, but as he stood in his shirt with the officer in full-dress uniform, oras he dismounted from his horse when the gallant man was struck down.
"It is a striking proof of the power of that most extraordinary man Defoe that I seem to recognise in every line of the narrative something of him. Has this occurred to you? The going to Waterloo with that unconsciousness of everything in the road, but the obstacles to getting on—the shutting herself up in her room and determining not to hear—the not going to the door when the knocking came—the finding out by her wild spirits when she heard he was safe, how much she had feared when in doubt and anxiety—the desperate desire to move towards him—the whole description of the cottage, and its condition; and their daily shifts and contrivances; and the lying down beside him in the bed and bothfalling asleep; and his resolving not to serve any more, but to live quietly thenceforth; and her sorrow when she saw him eating with an appetite so soon before his death; and his death itself—all these are matters of truth, which only that astonishing creature, as I think, could have told in fiction.
"Of all the beautiful and tender passages—the thinking every day how happy and blest she was—the decorating him for the dinner—the standingin the balcony at night and seeing the troops melt away through the gate—and the rejoining him on his sick bed—I say not a word. They are God's own, and should be sacred. But let me say again, with an earnestness which pen and ink can no more convey than toast and water, in thanking you heartily for the perusal of this paper, that its impression on me can never be told; that the ground she travelled (which I know well) is holy ground to me from this day; and that please Heaven I will tread its every foot this very next summer, to have the softened recollection of this sad story on the very earth where it was acted.
"You won't smile at this, I know. When my enthusiasms are awakened by such things they don't wear out.
"Have you ever thought within yourself of that part where, having suffered so much by the news of his death, shewill notbelieve he is alive? I should have supposed that unnatural if I had seen it in fiction.
"I shall never dismiss the subject from my mind, but with these hasty and very imperfect words I shall dismiss it from my paper, with two additional remarks—firstly, that Kate has been grievouslyputting me out by sobbing over it, while I have been writing this, and has just retired in an agony of grief; and, secondly, thatifa timeshouldever come when you would not object to letting a friend copy it for himself, I hope you will bear me in your thoughts.
"It seems the poorest nonsense in the world to turn to anything else, that is, seems to me being fresher in respect of Lady De Lancey than you—but my raven's dead. He had been ailing for a few days but not seriously, as we thought, and was apparently recovering, when symptoms of relapse occasioned me to send for an eminent medical gentleman one Herring (a bird fancier in the New Road), who promptly attended and administered a powerful dose of castor oil. This was on Tuesday last. On Wednesday morning he had another dose of castor oil and a tea cup full of warm gruel, which he took with great relish and under the influence of which he so far recovered his spirits as to be enabled to bite the groom severely. At 12 o'clock at noon he took several turns up and down the stable with a grave, sedate air, and suddenly reeled. This made him thoughtful. He stopped directly, shook his head, moved on again, stopped once more, cried in a tone of remonstranceand considerable surprise, 'Halloa old girl!' and immediately died.
"He has left a rather large property (in cheese and halfpence) buried, for security's sake, in various parts of the garden. I am not without suspicions of poison. A butcher was heard to threaten him some weeks since, and he stole a clasp knife belonging to a vindictive carpenter, which was never found. For these reasons, I directed a post-mortem examination, preparatory to the body being stuffed; the result of it has not yet reached me. The medical gentleman broke out the fact of his decease to me with great delicacy, observing that 'the jolliest queer start had taken place with that 'ere knowing card of a bird, as ever he see'd'—but the shock was naturally very great. With reference to the jollity of the start, it appears that a raven dying at two hundred and fifty or thereabouts, is looked upon as an infant. This one would hardly, as I may say, have been born for a century or so to come, being only two or three years old.
"I want to know more about the promised 'tickler'—when it's to come, what it's to be, and in short all about it—that I may give it the better welcome. I don't know how it is, but I am celebrated either for writing no letters at all or forthe briefest specimens of epistolary correspondence in existence, and here I am—in writing to you—on the sixth side! I won't make it a seventh anyway; so with love to all your home circle, and from all mine, I am now and always,
"Faithfully yours,
"Charles Dickens.
"I am glad you like Barnaby. I have great designs in store, but am sadly cramped at first for room."
Reminiscences, by Samuel Rogers, under the heading: "Duke of Wellington," p. 210.
Memoirs, Journal, and Correspondence of Thomas Moore, edited by Lord John Russell, Journal of 29th August 1824, vol. iv., p. 240.
Notes of Conversations with the Duke of Wellington, by Earl Stanhope, p. 182.
Letter from Sir Walter Scott to Captain Basil Hall, R.N., dated 13th October 1825, published in theCentury Magazine(New York), April 1906, and inAppendix A,ante.
Letter from Charles Dickens to Captain Basil Hall, R.N., dated 16th March 1841, published in theCentury Magazine(New York), April 1906, and inAppendix A,ante.
Illustrated Naval and Military Magazine, 1888, vol. viii., p. 414. A condensed account of her experiences at Waterloo, written by Lady De Lancey for the information of her friends in general. Seepage 31,ante.
Century Magazine, New York, April 1906. Publication in full of the original narrative as written by Lady De Lancey for the information of her brother, Captain Basil Hall, R.N.