“Kneel, warrior, kneel: to-morrow’s sunMay see thy course of glory run;And batter’d helm and shiver’d glaveMay lie neglected near thy grave.Kneel; for thy prayer in battle fieldMay sanctify thy sword and shield,And help to guard, unstain’d and free,Our altars, home and liberty.“Arm, warrior, arm: the hostile bandsNow grasp in haste their whetted brands,And seek the vantage of the height,Ere the first blush of morning light;And hark! the trumpet’s stormy bray!God speed thee, warrior, on thy way!The stirring word of onset be,Our altars, home and liberty!“Shout, warrior, shout: the field’s thine own,The Emperor’s ranks are all o’erthrown;His columns dense and squadrons vastWere but as dust before the blast.Shout, till the mountain voice repliesIn thunder, as Napoleon flies;And leaves again, unstain’d and free,Our altars, home and liberty.”
“Kneel, warrior, kneel: to-morrow’s sunMay see thy course of glory run;And batter’d helm and shiver’d glaveMay lie neglected near thy grave.Kneel; for thy prayer in battle fieldMay sanctify thy sword and shield,And help to guard, unstain’d and free,Our altars, home and liberty.“Arm, warrior, arm: the hostile bandsNow grasp in haste their whetted brands,And seek the vantage of the height,Ere the first blush of morning light;And hark! the trumpet’s stormy bray!God speed thee, warrior, on thy way!The stirring word of onset be,Our altars, home and liberty!“Shout, warrior, shout: the field’s thine own,The Emperor’s ranks are all o’erthrown;His columns dense and squadrons vastWere but as dust before the blast.Shout, till the mountain voice repliesIn thunder, as Napoleon flies;And leaves again, unstain’d and free,Our altars, home and liberty.”
“Kneel, warrior, kneel: to-morrow’s sunMay see thy course of glory run;And batter’d helm and shiver’d glaveMay lie neglected near thy grave.Kneel; for thy prayer in battle fieldMay sanctify thy sword and shield,And help to guard, unstain’d and free,Our altars, home and liberty.
“Kneel, warrior, kneel: to-morrow’s sun
May see thy course of glory run;
And batter’d helm and shiver’d glave
May lie neglected near thy grave.
Kneel; for thy prayer in battle field
May sanctify thy sword and shield,
And help to guard, unstain’d and free,
Our altars, home and liberty.
“Arm, warrior, arm: the hostile bandsNow grasp in haste their whetted brands,And seek the vantage of the height,Ere the first blush of morning light;And hark! the trumpet’s stormy bray!God speed thee, warrior, on thy way!The stirring word of onset be,Our altars, home and liberty!
“Arm, warrior, arm: the hostile bands
Now grasp in haste their whetted brands,
And seek the vantage of the height,
Ere the first blush of morning light;
And hark! the trumpet’s stormy bray!
God speed thee, warrior, on thy way!
The stirring word of onset be,
Our altars, home and liberty!
“Shout, warrior, shout: the field’s thine own,The Emperor’s ranks are all o’erthrown;His columns dense and squadrons vastWere but as dust before the blast.Shout, till the mountain voice repliesIn thunder, as Napoleon flies;And leaves again, unstain’d and free,Our altars, home and liberty.”
“Shout, warrior, shout: the field’s thine own,
The Emperor’s ranks are all o’erthrown;
His columns dense and squadrons vast
Were but as dust before the blast.
Shout, till the mountain voice replies
In thunder, as Napoleon flies;
And leaves again, unstain’d and free,
Our altars, home and liberty.”
Sunday the 18th June 1815, which cast such a brilliant lustre on the military annals of Britain, broke but slowly through the heavy clouds. The rain descended in torrents, succeeded, as the morning advanced, by a drizzling shower which gradually ceased. Soon after break of day, all who were able were on the move. Many, from cold and fatigue, could not stir for some time; fortunately, on most of us the excitement was too powerful to allow this physical inconvenience to be much felt; although, in after-years, many suffered most severely from it. Some were cleaning arms; others fetching wood, water, straw, etc., from Mont-St.-Jean, (my present place of abode;) some trying, from the embers of our bivac, to light up fires, most of which had been entirely put out by the heavy rain. At this time there was a continual irregular popping along the line, not unlike a skirmish, occasioned by those who were cleaning their fire-arms, discharging them, when practicable; which was more expeditious and satisfactory than drawing the charges. Our bivac had a most unsightly appearance: both officers and men looked blue with cold; our long beards, and wet and dirty clothing drying upon us, were anything but comfortable. As morning advanced and all were in motion, one might imagine the whole plain itself to be undergoing a movement. Imagine seventy thousand men huddled together. The buzzing resembled the distant roar of the sea against a rocky coast.
Between nine and ten o’clock, the duke of Wellington, with his usual firm countenance, passed along the line and was loudly cheered. His Grace was dressed in his ordinary field costume, white buckskin pantaloons, hessian boots and tassels, blue frock coat with a short cloak of the same colour, white cravat, sword, a plain low cocked hat without plume or ornament, except the large black cockade of Britain, and three smaller ones of Spain, Portugal and the Netherlands. In his right hand he carried a long field telescope, drawn out, ready for use. His Grace was mounted on his favourite chesnutcharger, Copenhagen. He was followed by a numerous staff, several foreign officers, and the Russian, Austrian, Prussian and Spanish ministers, count Pozzo di Borgo, baron Vincent, baron Müffling, and general Alava. I observed several in his train dressed in plain clothes. Their number was much diminished ere the day was over.
The Duke generally rode alone, or rather without having any one by his side, and rarely spoke, unless to send a message or to give orders; sometimes he would suddenly turn round and glide past his followers; halting occasionally, and apparently paying no attention to his own troops, his Grace would observe through his telescope those of the enemy, which the docile Copenhagen appeared perfectly to understand, from his showing no impatience nor getting restive.
The troops had been previously placed in their respective positions, and afterwards the cavalry dismounted.
About this time, the French bands struck up, so that we could distinctly hear them. I have no doubt, this was the moment when Napoleon assembled all his generals, and forming a circle, placed himself in the centre, and gave his orders. This was in the hamlet of La Maison-du-Roi, about a mile in the rear of his centre.
Not long after, the enemy’s skirmishers, backed by their supports, were thrown out; extending as they advanced, they spread over the whole space before them. Now and then, they saluted our ears with well-known music, the whistling of musket-balls.
Their columns, preceded by mounted officers to take up the alignments, soon began to appear; the bayonets flashing over dark masses at different points, accompanied by the rattling of drums and the clang of trumpets.
Could any one behold so imposing a spectacle without awe, or without extreme excitement? Could any one witness the commencement of the battle with indifference? Can any one forget the impressions that are made upon the mind at such a moment? What a magnificent sight! Napoleon the Great, marshalling the chosen troops of France, against those of Britain and her allies under the renowned Wellington! Here, on one side, were the troops that had held nearly all Europein bonds, and by whom kings and princes had been humbled and deposed; and although it was not the first time that many of us had faced them, yet, on the present occasion, they were under the immediate command of their idolized Napoleon. It was impossible to contemplate so formidable a power in battle array, without a feeling of admiration towards such noble antagonists.
It presented altogether a sight that must be seen and felt to be duly appreciated, a sight that “survivors recollect in after-years.”
Such a scene fires the blood of the brave, and excites feelings and hopes, compared with which, all other emotions are cold and powerless:
“To him who’s born for battle’s strife,Or bard of martial lay,’Twas worth ten years of peaceful life,One glance at this array.”
“To him who’s born for battle’s strife,Or bard of martial lay,’Twas worth ten years of peaceful life,One glance at this array.”
“To him who’s born for battle’s strife,Or bard of martial lay,’Twas worth ten years of peaceful life,One glance at this array.”
“To him who’s born for battle’s strife,
Or bard of martial lay,
’Twas worth ten years of peaceful life,
One glance at this array.”
Picture their infantry in front, in two lines sixty yards apart, flanked by lancers with their fluttering flags. In rear of the centre of the infantry wings were the cuirassiers, also in two lines. In rear of the cuirassiers, on the right, the lancers and chasseurs of the Imperial guard, in their splendid but gaudy uniforms: the former clad in scarlet; the latter like hussars, in rifle-green fur-trimmed pelisse, gold lace, bear-skin cap. In rear of the cuirassiers on the left, the horse-grenadiers and dragoons of the Imperial guard, with their dazzling arms.
Immediately in rear of the centre was the reserve, composed of the 6th corps, in columns; on the left, and on the right of the Genappe road, were two divisions of light cavalry.
In rear of the whole, was the infantry of the Imperial guard in columns, a dense, dark mass, which, with the 6th corps and cavalry, were flanked by their numerous artillery. Nearly seventy-two thousand men, and two hundred and forty-six guns, ranged with matches lighted, gave an awful presage of the approaching conflict.
The enemy were quite in hand, all within call, there was nothing to prevent a movement being made. Why tarries Napoleon, so often termed “the thunderbolt of war?”Every minute’s delay is loss to him, and gain to Wellington, whose game it was to stand fast until the Prussians arrived. Was the Emperor tampering with a portion of the allies who had formerly fought in his ranks, and who might again rally round his eagles, (as he had been led to believe,) should a favourable opportunity present itself? French writers reply, and with some justice, that Napoleon waited for the partial drying of the ground, which the night’s rain had rendered very unfavourable for cavalry and artillery. The grand martial display was calculated to heighten the enthusiasm of his legions, at the same time that it gratified the Emperor’s unbounded ambition.
The allied army, a motley group, of nearly sixty-eight thousand men and a hundred and fifty-six guns, though almost as numerous as that of the enemy, did not present so imposing a spectacle, being for the most part drawn up in chequered columns of battalions at deploying intervals, the cavalry being on the flanks and in the rear. According to the nature of the ground, the guns were skilfully ranged at points whence the melancholy work of destruction could be best effected; yet, from its undulating form, it concealed from the enemy’s view a great portion of our force.
“Never,” said Napoleon, “had his troops been animated with such spirit, nor taken up their ground with such precision. The earth seemed proud of being trodden by such combatants.... Never yet, I believe,” said he at St.-Helena, “has there been such devotion shown by soldiers, as mine have manifested to me; never has man been served more faithfully by his troops.”
The two armies were now fairly in presence of each other.
The French lines being completed, the Emperor passed along them, attended by a brilliant and numerous staff: a forest of plumes waved around him. The troops hailed him with repeated shouts ofVive l’Empereur!the infantry raising their caps upon their bayonets, and the cavalry their casques or helmets upon their swords and lances. The parade over, the whole instantly formed columns.
With an army thus animated by one sentiment, and doubtless calculating on being joined during the fray by morethan a few of the motley group who stood in his front, it may readily be conceived that Napoleon fully participated in the general confidence of a signal victory.
“The force of the two armies,” said the Emperor just before the battle began, “could not be estimated by a mere comparison of numbers; because the allied army was composed of troops more or less efficient: so thatone Englishman might be counted for one Frenchman; but two Netherlander, Prussians, Germans, or soldiers of the Confederation, were required to make up one Frenchman.”
(end of chapter; image of a sword)