Chapter I: Waiting for the Guns

Mercer held the rank of second captain only in troop G, but Sir Alexander Dickson, whose troop it was, being employed on other duties, Mercer was in actual command. It was a fine troop, perfect in drill, and splendidly horsed. It owed this latter circumstance, perhaps, to a characteristic bit of War Office administration. The artillery was being reduced to the level of a peace establishment when Napoleon broke loose from Elba, and there came the sudden summons to war. A second troop of horse-artillery was at that moment in Colchester barracks. It was broken up, and troop G took the picked horses of both batteries--"thus," says Mercer proudly, "making it the finest troop in the service." One fine troop was in this way made out of two half-dismantled batteries.

The troop was made up of eighty gunners and eighty-four drivers, with the usual proportion of officers and non-commissioned officers. The horses numbered no less than 226. There were six guns--five of them being nine-pounders, and one a heavy five-and-a-half inch howitzer. Mercer has the wholesome pride of a good officer in his own men and guns. He tells with pardonable complacency the story of how his troop shone in a grand cavalry review held on May 29, near Gramont:--

"About two o'clock the Duke of Wellington and Prince Blucher,
followed by an immense cortège, in which were to be seen many of
the most distinguished officers and almost every uniform in Europe,
arrived on the ground. Need I say that the foreigners were loud in
praise of the martial air, fine persons, and complete equipment of
the men and horses, and of the strength and beauty of the latter? and
my vanity on that occasion was most fully gratified, for on arriving
where we stood, the Duke not only called old Blucher's attention to
'the beautiful battery,' but, instead of proceeding straight through
the ranks, as they had done everywhere else, each sub-division--nay,
each individual horse--was closely scrutinised, Blucher repeating
continually that he had never seen anything so superb in his life,
and concluding by exclaiming, 'Mein Gott, dere is not von orse in
dies batterie wich is not goot for Veldt Marshal': and Wellington
agreed with him. It certainly was a splendid collection of horses.
However, except asking Sir George Wood whose troop it was, his Grace
never even bestowed a regard on me as I followed from sub-division to
sub-division."

The troop, as Mercer's story shows, was literally smashed up at Waterloo; but Mercer, with great energy and skill, quickly built it up again, and at a great review in Paris, where the allied sovereigns were present, the English guns were once more the admired of all observers. He writes:--

"It seems that we have been the _rara avis_ of the day ever since our
review. The rapidity of our movements, close-wheeling, perfection
of our equipment, &c., &c., excited universal astonishment and
admiration. The consequence of this was an application to the Duke
for a closer inspection, which he most magnanimously granted, and
ordered Ross's troop out for that purpose. They paraded in the
fields near Clichy. The reviewers, I understand, were _marechaux
de France_; but there was also a great concourse of officers of all
nations. After the manœuvres the troop was dismounted, and a most
deliberate inspection of ammunition, and even of the men's kits,
appointments, shoeing, construction of carriages, &c., &c., took
place. I believe they were equally astonished and pleased with what
they saw, and as there were several among them taking notes, have
no doubt that we shall soon see improvements introduced into the
Continental artillery."

Mercer, curiously enough, declares that the British artilleryman of his day had no affection for his horse, and in this respect compares very ill with the German artilleryman; the same thing, he says, applies to British and German cavalry:--

"Affection for, and care of, his horse is the trait _par excellence_
which distinguishes the German dragoon from the English. The former
would sell everything to feed his horse; the latter would sell his
horse itself for spirits, or the means of obtaining them. The one
never thinks of himself until his horse is provided for; the other
looks upon the animal as a curse and a source of perpetual drudgery
to himself, and gives himself no concern about it when once away from
under his officer's eye. The German accustoms his horse to partake of
his own fare. I remember a beautiful mare, belonging to a sergeant of
the 3rd Hussars, K.G.L., which would even eat onions. She was one of
the very few that escaped after the disastrous retreat of Corunna,
and had been saved and smuggled on board ship by the sergeant
himself. In the Peninsula the only means of enforcing some attention
to their horses amongst our English regiments was to make every man
walk and carry his saddle-bags whose horse died or was ill."

All branches of the British army, it may be added, did not impress the allied sovereigns in the same favourable manner as the artillery. The British infantry seemed under-sized as compared with Austrians, Prussians, &c. Mercer's account of the memorable review, held only five weeks after Waterloo, is interesting:--

"At length the approach of the sovereigns was announced, and they
came preceded and followed by a most numerous and brilliant cortège,
in which figured, perhaps, some of almost every arm of every army
in Europe. It was a splendid and most interesting sight. First came
the Emperor Alexander and the King of Prussia, in their respective
green and blue uniforms, riding together--the former, as usual, all
smiles; the latter taciturn and melancholy. A little in their rear
followed the Austrian Emperor, in a white uniform, turned up with
red, but quite plain--a thin, dried-up, thread-paper of a man, not of
the most distinguished bearing; his lean, brown visage, however, bore
an expression of kindness and _bonhomie_, which folk say his true
character in no way belies. They passed along, scanning our people
with evident interest and curiosity; and in passing me (as they did
to every commanding officer), pulled off their hats, and saluted me
with most gracious smiles. I wonder if they do the same to their own.
Until yesterday I had not seen any British infantry under arms since
the evening the troops from America arrived at Garges, and, in the
meantime, have constantly seen corps of foreign infantry.

"These are all uncommonly well dressed in new clothes, smartly made,
setting the men off to the greatest advantage--add to which their
coiffure of high broad-topped shakos, or enormous caps of bearskin.
Our infantry--indeed our whole army--appeared at the review in
the same clothes in which they had marched, slept, and fought for
months. The colour had faded to a dusky brick-dust hue; their coats,
originally not very smartly made, had acquired by constant wearing
that loose, easy set so characteristic of old clothes, comfortable
to the wearer, but not calculated to add grace to his appearance.
_Pour surcroît de laideur_, their cap is perhaps the meanest, ugliest
thing ever invented. From all these causes it arose that our infantry
appeared to the utmost disadvantage--dirty, shabby, mean, and very
small. Some such impression was, I fear, made on the sovereigns, for
a report has reached us this morning that they remarked to the Duke
what very small men the English were. 'Ay,' replied our noble chief,
'they are small; but your Majesties will find none who fight so
well.' I wonder if this is true. However small our men and mean their
appearance, yet it was evident that they were objects of intense
interest from the immense time and close scrutiny of the inspection."

Mercer, with his troop, embarked at Harwich on April 9, and landed at Ostend on the 13th. Thence he marched, with frequent halts, to Brussels. His account of the marches and experiences of his troop is very interesting, if only as showing that even under a great commander like Wellington, amazing blunders and much distracted confusion were possible. Nothing more absurd can well be imagined than the fashion in which Mercer's fine troop was disembarked at Ostend; and nothing could be more planless and belated than the marching--or rather the loitering--of troop G towards Brussels. Wellington used to complain afterwards that in the Waterloo campaign he had the most villainous staff with which an unhappy general was ever afflicted; and the helpless quality of Wellington's staff is reflected in Mercer's account of the orders he received--or did not receive--directing his march to the front. Here is Mercer's account of how his troops started from their English barracks on the march which was to end on the smoky ridge at Waterloo:--

"On the morning of the 9th, the troop paraded at half-past seven
o'clock with as much regularity and as quietly as if only going to
a field-day; not a man either absent or intoxicated, and every part
of the guns and appointments in the most perfect order. At eight,
the hour named in orders, we marched off the parade. The weather was
fine, the scenery, as we skirted the beautiful banks of the Stour,
charming, and the occasion exhilarating. Near Manningtree we halted a
short time to feed our horses, and then, pursuing our route, arrived
at Harwich about three o'clock in the afternoon. Here we found the
transports--the _Adventure_, _Philarea_, and _Salus_, in which last I
embarked.

"About 2 P.M. on the 11th, a light breeze from the N.W. induced our
agent to get under way, and we repaired on board our respective ships
with every prospect of a good and speedy passage. In this, however,
we were disappointed, for the breeze dying away as the sun went down,
we anchored, by signal, at the harbour's mouth, just as it got dark.

"The evening was splendid. A clear sky studded with myriads of stars
overhead, and below a calm unruffled sea, reflecting on its glassy
surface the lights of the distant town, the low murmuring sounds
from which, and the rippling of the water under the ships' bows,
were the only interruptions to the solemn stillness that prevailed
after the people had retired to their berths. In our more immediate
neighbourhood stretched out the long, low, sandy tract, on the
seaward extremity of which the dark masses and Landguard fort could
just be distinguished.

"With daybreak on the morning of the 12th came a favourable wind,
though light, and again we took up our anchors and proceeded to sea.
For some distance after clearing the harbour our course lay along
the Suffolk coast, and so near in that objects on shore were plainly
discernible. To us who had long been stationed at Woodbridge, only a
few miles inland, this was highly interesting. We knew every village,
every copse, every knoll--nay, almost every tree. There were the
houses in which we had so oft been hospitably entertained; there were
the sheep-walks on which we had so often manœuvred; and there in the
distance, as we passed the mouth of the Deben, our glasses showed us
the very barrack on the hill, with its tiled roofs illumined by the
noontide sun. About Bawdsey we left the coast, and steered straight
over with a light but favourable wind; the low, sandy shores of
Suffolk soon sank beneath the horizon.

"During the night a light breeze right aft and smooth water enabled
us to make good progress; but towards morning (13th) the wind had
very considerably increased, and although the coast was not in sight,
we were sensible of its neighbourhood from the number of curious
heavy-looking boats plying round us in all directions, having the
foremast with its huge lug-sail stuck right up in the bow or rather
inclining over it.

"Nothing, certainly, could be more repulsive than the appearance of
the coast--sandhills as far as the eye could reach, broken only by
the grey and lugubrious works and buildings of Ostend, and further
west by the spires of Mittelkerke and Nieuport peering above the
sandhills. The day, too, was one little calculated to enliven the
scene. A fresh breeze and cloudy sky; the sea black, rough, and
chilly; the land all under one uniform cold grey tint, presenting
scarcely any relief of light and shadow, consequently no feature.
Upon reconnoitring it, however, closer, we found that this forbidding
exterior was only an outer coating to a lovely gem. Through the
openings between the sandhills could be seen a rich level country of
the liveliest verdure, studded with villages and farms interspersed
amongst avenues of trees and small patches of wood.

"A black-looking mass of timber rising from the waters off the
entrance of the harbour, and which we understood to be a fort, now
became the principal object of our attention. The harbour of Ostend
is an artificial one, formed by _jetées_ of piles projecting as far
as low-water mark. The right on entering is merely a row of piles
running along in front of the works of the town; but on the left is
a long mole or _jetée_ on the extremity of which is a small fort.
Behind this mole to the north-east the shore curving inwards forms a
bight, presenting an extent of flat sandy beach on which the water
is never more than a few feet deep even at the highest tides. A
tremendous surf breaks on this whenever it blows from the westward.

"Followed by a crowd of other craft of all sorts and sizes, we
shot rapidly along towards that part of the harbour where a dense
assemblage of shipping filled up its whole breadth and forbade
further progress, so that one wondered what was to become of the
numerous vessels in our wake. The mystery was soon explained, for
each having attained the point, turning her prow to the town, ran
bump on the sands and there stuck fast. Those immediately above us
had just arrived, and from them a regiment of Light Dragoons was in
the act of disembarking, by throwing their horses overboard and then
hauling them ashore by a long rope attached to their head-collars.
What a scene! What hallooing, shouting, vociferating, and plunging!
The poor horses did not appear much gratified by their sudden
transition from the warm hold to a cold bath.

"Our keel had scarcely touched the sand ere we were abruptly boarded
by a naval officer (Captain Hill) with a gang of sailors, who, _sans
cérémonie_, instantly commenced hoisting our horses out, and throwing
them, as well as our saddlery, &c., overboard, without ever giving
time for making any disposition to receive or secure the one or the
other. To my remonstrance his answer was, 'I can't help it, sir; the
Duke's orders are positive that no delay is to take place in landing
the troops as they arrive, and the ships sent back again; so you must
be out of her before dark.' It was then about 3 P.M., and I thought
this a most uncomfortable arrangement.

"The scramble and confusion that ensued baffle all description.
Bundles of harness went over the side in rapid succession as well
as horses. In vain we urged the loss and damage that must accrue
from such a proceeding. 'Can't help it--no business of mine--Duke's
orders are positive,' &c., &c., was our only answer. Meantime the
ebb had begun to diminish the depth of water alongside, and enabled
us to send parties overboard and to the beach to collect and carry
our things ashore, as well as to haul and secure the horses. The
same operation commenced from the other vessels as they arrived, and
the bustle and noise were inconceivable. The dragoons and our men
(some nearly, others quite, naked) were dashing in and out of the
water, struggling with the affrighted horses, or securing their wet
accoutrements as best they could. Some of the former were saddling
their dripping horses, and others mounting and marching off in small
parties. Disconsolate-looking groups of women and children were to be
seen here and there sitting on their poor duds, or roaming about in
search of their husbands, or mayhap of a stray child, all clamouring,
lamenting, and materially increasing the babel-like confusion.

"It was not without difficulty that I succeeded at last in
impressing upon Captain Hill the necessity of leaving our guns and
ammunition-waggons, &c., on board for the night--otherwise his
furious zeal would have turned all out to stand on the wet sand or
be washed away. Meantime, although we were on shore, we were without
orders what to do next. Not an officer, either of the staff, the
garrison, or even of our own corps, came near us. Night approached,
and with it bad weather evidently. Our poor shivering horses and
heaps of wet harness could not remain on the sands much longer, when
the flood began to make again; and it was necessary to look about
and see what could be done. With this intent, therefore, leaving the
officers to collect their divisions, I got one of my horses saddled
and rode into the town. Here was the same bustle (although not the
same confusion) as on the sands. The streets were thronged with
British officers, and the quays with guns, waggons, horses, baggage,
&c.

"One would hardly expect to meet with any delay in finding the
commandant of a fortress, yet such was my case; and it was not until
after long and repeated inquiry that I discovered Lieut.-Colonel
Gregory, 44th Regiment, to be that personage, and found his
residence. From him, however, I could obtain nothing. He seemed
hardly to have expected the compliment of reporting our arrival, and
stated that he had no other orders but that the troops of every arm
should march for Ghent the moment they landed, without halting a
single day in Ostend.

"Strange to say neither I nor the colonel recollected there was such
a person in Ostend as an assistant-quarter-master-general, who should
be referred to on such an occasion. Yet this was the case; and that
officer, instead of attending to the debarkation of the troops,
or making himself acquainted with the arrivals, kept out of sight
altogether. Baffled at all points, I was returning to the sands when
I met Major Drummond on the Quai Impérial, and related my story. His
advice was to march to Ghystelle (a village about six miles from
Ostend), and after putting up there for the night, to return and
disembark my guns, &c., in the morning. While speaking, however,
some one (I forget who) came up with the agreeable information that
Ghystelle was already fully occupied by the 16th Dragoons. He,
however, gave me directions for some large sheds about a mile off,
where his own horses had passed the preceding night.

"This was some consolation: so riding off immediately to reconnoitre
the place and the road to it, I returned to the beach just as it
got dark; and a most miserable scene of confusion I there found.
Our saddles, harness, baggage, &c., were still strewed about the
sand, and these the flood, which was now making, threatened soon to
submerge. _Pour surcroît de malheur_, the rain came down in torrents,
and a storm, which had been brewing up the whole afternoon, now burst
over us most furiously. The lightning was quite tremendous, whilst
a hurricane, howling horribly through the rigging of the ships, was
only exceeded in noise by the loud explosions and rattling of the
incessant claps of thunder.

"Our people, meantime, blinded by the lightning, had borrowed some
lanterns from the ship, and were busily employed searching for the
numerous articles still missing. The obscurity, however, between the
vivid flashes was such that we were only enabled to keep together by
repeatedly calling to each other, and it was not without difficulty
and great watchfulness that we escaped being caught by the tide,
which flowed rapidly in over the flat sands. At length, having
collected as many of our things as was possible, and saddled our
horses (some two or three of which had escaped altogether), we began
our march for the sheds a little after midnight, with a farrier and
another dismounted man carrying lanterns at the head of our column.

"The rain continued pouring, but flashes of lightning occurred now
only at intervals, and the more subdued rolling of the thunder told
us that it was passing away in the distance. Our route lay through
the town, to gain which we found some advanced ditch to be crossed
by a very frail wooden bridge. Half the column, perhaps, might
have cleared this, when, 'crack,' down it went, precipitating all
who were on it at the moment into the mud below, and completely
cutting off those in the rear. Here was a dilemma. Ignorant of the
localities, and without a guide, how was the rear of the column to
join us, or how were the people in the ditch, with their horses, to
be extricated? Luckily none were hurt seriously, and the depth was
not great--not more, perhaps, than six or eight feet; but that was
enough to baffle all our attempts at extricating the horses. Some
Belgic soldiers of a neighbouring guard, of which we were not aware,
fortunately heard us, and came to our assistance; and one of them,
crossing the ditch, undertook to guide the rear of our column and
those below to another gate, whilst one accompanied us to the Quai
Impérial, where, after waiting a while, we were at length assembled,
drenched with rain and starving of cold and hunger.

"The Quai was silent and dark; the only light gleamed dimly through
the wet from a miserable lamp over the door of a café, in which
people were still moving; and the only sounds that broke the
stillness of the quarter were the splashing of the rain and the
clattering of our steel scabbards and horses' feet as we moved
dejectedly on--winding our way through unknown avenues (for in the
dark I found it impossible to recognise the narrow streets through
which I had so hurriedly passed in the afternoon), occasionally
illuminated by a solitary lamp, the feeble light of which, however,
was somewhat increased by reflection on the wet pavement. After
following for some time this devious course, I began to fear I had
missed the road, when again we stumbled upon a Belgic guard, by whose
direction and guidance we at length reached the outer barrier. Here
we again came to a standstill, the officer in charge refusing to let
us out. Some altercation ensued; I forget the particulars, but it
ended in his opening the gate.

"Once clear of the town, we hoped soon to reach our lodging; but had
scarcely advanced a hundred yards ere we found that result was more
distant than we had fancied, and that patience was still requisite.
The rain had rendered the fat soil so slippery that our horses could
scarcely keep their legs, and the road running along the narrow
summit of a dyke, with ditches on each side, rendered precaution and
slow movement imperative. Every moment the fall of some horse impeded
the column; our lanterns went out; and after wandering a considerable
time, we at length ascertained, by knocking up the people at a house
by the wayside, that we had overshot our mark, and it was not until
two in the morning that we succeeded in finding the sheds. These were
immensely long buildings attached to some saw-mills, for what use I
know not, unless to store planks, &c., for they were now empty; but
they were admirably adapted to our purpose, since we could range all
our horses along one side, while the men occupied the other, in one
of them. A quantity of hay, and some straw, left by our predecessors,
was a valuable acquisition to man and beast under such circumstances.
All our enjoyments are the effect of contrast. It would be considered
miserable enough to be obliged to pass the night under such equivocal
shelter as these sheds afforded, and that, too, in wet clothes; yet
did we now, after twelve hours of harassing work and exposure to the
weather, look upon them as palaces, and having cared for our poor
beasts as far as circumstances would permit, proceeded to prepare for
that repose so necessary and so longed for.

"Our road back to the town, now we had daylight, appeared very
short, and having dried considerably, was not so slippery as last
night. The gates were not yet opened when we arrived; a crowd of
workmen of different kinds had already assembled and were waiting
for admission, as were we, for a few minutes. At last they opened,
and we proceeded to the harbour in search of our ship. The quais,
beach, &c., were thronged as on the day before, and we added to
the bustle in disembarking our guns and carriages, &c. This was
completed by eleven o'clock, and we were ready to march forward;
but the commissariat detained us waiting the issue of our rations
until 3 P.M.--four mortal hours, considering our eagerness to get
on and explore this new country, and the bore of being confined to
one spot, since it was impossible to wander about the town, seeing
that we could not calculate the moment when these gentry might find
it convenient to supply us. Of our horses two were still missing, as
were some saddle-bags and a number of smaller articles; and this is
not to be wondered at when the scandalous manner in which they were
thrown overboard, the badness of the weather, the darkness of the
night, together with the ebbing and flowing of the tide, are taken
into consideration.

"The appearance, too, of the troop was vexatious in the extreme. Our
noble horses, yesterday morning so sleek and spirited, now stood
with drooping heads and rough staring coats, plainly indicating
the mischief they had sustained in being taken from a hot hold,
plunged into cold water, and then exposed for more than seven hours
on an open beach to such a tempest of wind and rain as that we
experienced last night. Here was a practical illustration of the
folly of grooming and pampering military horses, destined as they
are to such exposures and privations. As for our men, they looked
jaded, their clothes all soiled with mud and wet, the sabres rusty,
and the bearskins of their helmets flattened down by the rain.
Still, however, they displayed the same spirit and alacrity as that
which has always been a characteristic of the horse-artillery, more
particularly of G troop."

The tedium of waiting for so many hours on Ostend beach was relieved by a naval incident of an exciting quality:--

"A loud cry of dismay suddenly pervaded the crowd, and all
simultaneously rushed to the ramparts. I followed this movement.
The morning, though somewhat overcast, had been fine, and the wind
moderate; but as the day advanced, and the flood-tide set in, the
south-westerly breeze had gradually increased to a gale. On reaching
the rampart, I immediately observed that the flat shore to the
northward, as far as the eye could reach, was covered with a sheet of
white foam from the tremendous surf breaking on it; whilst the spray,
rising in clouds and borne along before the blast, involved the whole
neighbourhood in a thick salt mist. Nothing could be more savage and
wild than the appearance of the coast.

"In the offing, numerous vessels under small sail were running for
the harbour. One small brig had missed, and before assistance could
be given, had been whirled round the _jetée_, and cast broadside on
amongst the breakers. Her situation was truly awful. The surf broke
over her in a frightful manner, sending its spray higher than her
masts, and causing her to roll from side to side until her yards
dipped in the water, and induced a belief every moment that she
must roll over. Every now and then a huge wave, larger than its
predecessor, would raise her bodily, and then, rapidly receding,
suddenly let her fall again on the ground with a concussion that
made the masts bend and vibrate like fishing-rods, and seemed to
threaten instant annihilation. Of her sails, some were torn to rags,
and others, flying loose, flapped and fluttered with a noise that was
audible from the rampart, despite the roaring of the surf. The people
on board appeared in great agitation, and kept shouting to those on
shore for assistance, which they were unable to give.

"Intense anxiety pervaded the assembled multitude as the shattered
vessel alternately rose to view or was buried in a sea of foam.
Numbers ran down to the sands opposite to her; and from them she
could not have been twenty yards distant, yet could they not afford
the despairing crew the slightest aid. Whilst thus attending in
breathless expectation the horrid catastrophe, the return of our
quarter-master with the rations summoned us unwillingly from the
rampart to commence our march. We afterwards learnt that a boat from
the harbour had succeeded in saving the crew (she had no troops on
board); but the unfortunate pilot who thus gallantly risked his
own life for them was killed by the boat rising suddenly under the
vessel's counter as he stood in the bow, which dashed his brains out."