Chapter III: Quatre Bras

Napoleon's plan for what was to prove the last campaign in his own wonderful career was daring and subtle. He had to face two armies, each almost equal in strength to his own; and though the forces of Blucher and of Wellington were scattered over a very wide front, yet their outposts touched each other where the great road from Charleroi ran northwards to Brussels. Napoleon, with equal audacity and genius, resolved to smite at the point of junction betwixt the two armies, and overthrow each in turn. The risks of this strategy were immense, for if his enemies succeeded in concentrating and fighting in concert, he would be overwhelmed and destroyed--as actually happened at Waterloo. Napoleon, however, calculated to win by the swiftness and suddenness of his stroke, destroying Blucher before Wellington could concentrate for his help, and then, in turn, overwhelming Wellington. By what a narrow interval that great plan failed of success is not always realised.

Both Blucher and Wellington were off their guard. On June 15, at the very moment when Napoleon's columns were crossing the Belgian frontier, Wellington was writing a leisurely despatch to the Czar explaining his intention to take the offensive at the end of the month. Blucher, only a few days before, as Houssaye records, had written to his wife, "We shall soon enter France. We might remain here another year, for Bonaparte will never attack us." Yet with miraculous energy and skill, Napoleon, in ten days, had gathered a host of 124,000 men, over distances ranging from 30 to 200 miles, and held them, almost unsuspected, within cannon-shot of the allied outposts. On June 15, while the stars in the eastern summer sky were growing faint in the coming dawn, the French columns were crossing at three separate points the Belgian frontier, and the great campaign had begun.

Its history is compressed into three furious days. On the 16th Napoleon defeated Blucher at Ligny, while Wellington, with obstinate courage and fine skill, aided by many blunders on his enemy's part, and much good luck on his own, succeeded in holding Quatre Bras against Ney. On the 17th Wellington fell back before the combined armies of Napoleon and Ney to Waterloo. On the 18th the great battle, which sealed the fate of Napoleon and gave a long peace to Europe, was fought. Napoleon's strategy had fatally broken down. He aimed to separate the English and the Prussian armies while keeping his own concentrated. The exact opposite happened. Blucher's bold westward march from Wavre to Waterloo united the allied forces, while Napoleon's force was fatally divided--Grouchy, with 30,000 troops, being left "in the air" far to the east. Napoleon, in a word, suffered the exact strategic disaster he sought to inflict on his opponents.

We take up the thread of the adventures of Mercer and Battery G as active operations begin. It offers a curious picture of the distraction and confusion of a great campaign:--

"_June 16._--I was sound asleep when my servant, bustling into the
room, awoke me _en sursaut_. He brought a note, which an orderly
hussar had left and ridden off immediately. The note had nothing
official in its appearance, and might have been an invitation to
dinner; but the unceremonious manner in which the hussar had gone off
without his receipt looked curious. My despatch was totally deficient
in date, so that time and place were left to conjecture; its contents
pithy--they were as follows, viz.:--

"'Captain Mercer's troop will proceed with the utmost diligence to
Enghien, where he will meet Major M'Donald, who will point out the
ground on which it is to bivouac to-night.

'Signed, ----, D.A.Q.M.-Gen.'

That we were to move forward, then, was certain. It was rather
sudden, to be sure, and all the whys and wherefores were left
to conjecture; but the suddenness of it, and the importance of
arriving quickly at the appointed place, rather alarmed me, for
upon reflection I remembered that I had been guilty of two or three
imprudences.

"First, all my officers were absent; secondly, all my country waggons
were absent; thirdly, a whole division (one-third of my troop)
was absent at Yseringen. 'Send the sergeant-major here,' was the
first order, as I drew on my stockings. 'Send for Mr. Coates' (my
commissariat officer), the second, as I got one leg into my overalls.
'William, make haste and get breakfast,' the third, as I buttoned
them up. The sergeant-major soon came, and received his orders to
turn out instanter, with the three days' provisions and forage in
the haversacks and on the horses; also to send an express for the
first division. He withdrew, and immediately the fine martial clang
of 'boot and saddle' resounded through the village and courts of the
château, making the woods ring again, and even the frogs stop to
listen.

"The commissary soon made his appearance. 'What! are we off, sir?'
'Yes, without delay; and you must collect your waggons as quickly as
possible.' 'I fear, Captain Mercer, that will take some time, for St.
Cyr's are gone to Ninove.' My folly here stared me full in the face.
Mr. Coates said he would do his utmost to collect them; and as he was
a most active, intelligent, and indefatigable fellow, I communicated
to him my orders and determination not to wait, desiring him to
follow us as soon as he possibly could. My first enumerated care was
speedily removed, for I learned that the officers had just arrived
and were preparing for the march, having known of it at Brussels ere
we did. The two divisions in Strytem were ready to turn out in a few
minutes after the 'boot and saddle' had resounded, but, as I feared,
the first kept us waiting until near seven o'clock before it made its
appearance. At length the first division arrived, and the animating
and soul-stirring notes of the 'turn-out' again awoke the echoes of
the hills and woods. Up jumped my old dog Bal, and away to parade
and increase the bustle by jumping at the horses' noses and barking,
as parade formed. Away went the officers to inspect their divisions,
and Milward is leading my impatient charger, Cossac, up and down the
court.

"We had cleared the village and marched some miles well enough, being
within the range of my daily rides; but, this limit passed, I was
immediately sensible of another error--that of having started without
a guide; for the roads became so numerous, intricate, and bad, often
resembling only woodmen's tracks, that I was sorely puzzled, spite
of the map I carried in my sabre-tache, to pick out my way. But a
graver error still I had now to reproach myself with, and one that
might have been attended with fatal consequences. Eager to get on,
and delayed by the badness of the roads, I left all my ammunition
waggons behind, under charge of old Hall, my quartermaster-sergeant,
to follow us, and then pushed on with the guns alone, thus foolishly
enough dividing my troop into three columns--viz., the guns,
ammunition waggons, and the column of provision waggons under the
commissary. For this piece of folly I paid dearly in the anxiety I
suffered throughout this eventful day, which at times was excessive.

"Rid of all encumbrances, we trotted merrily on whenever the road
permitted, and, arriving at Castre (an old Roman legionary station),
found there the 23rd Light Dragoons just turning out, having also
received orders to march upon Enghien. A Captain Dance, with whom I
rode a short distance, told me he had been at the ball at Brussels
last night, and that, when he left the room, the report was that
Blucher had been attacked in the morning, but that he had repulsed
the enemy with great slaughter, was following up the blow, and that
our advance was to support him. The road for the last few miles had
been upon a more elevated country, not so wooded--a sort of plateau,
consequently hard and dry; but immediately on passing Castre, we
came to a piece which appeared almost impassable for about a hundred
yards--a perfect black bog, across which a corduroy road had been
made, but not kept in repair, consequently the logs, having decayed,
left immense gaps.

"The 23rd floundered through this with difficulty, and left us
behind. How we got through with our 9-pounders, the horses slipping
up to the shoulders between the logs every minute, I know not; but
through we did get, and without accident, but it took time to do so.
About noon, after threading our way through more mud and many watery
lanes, doubtful if we were in the right direction, we came out upon
a more open and dry country, close to a park, which upon inquiry
proved to be that of Enghien. To the same point various columns
of cavalry were converging, and under the park wall we found Sir
Ormsby Vandeleur's brigade of light dragoons dismounted, and feeding
their horses. Here we also dismounted to await the arrival of Major
M'Donald; and as I looked upon the day's march as finished, deferred
feeding until our bivouac should be established--another folly, for
an officer in campaign should never lose an opportunity of feeding,
watering, or resting his horses, &c. Having waited a good half-hour,
and no Major M'Donald appearing, I began to look about for some
one who could give me information, but no staff-officer was to be
seen, and no one else knew anything about the matter. Corps after
corps arrived and passed on, generally without even halting, yet all
professing ignorance of their destination. Pleasant situation this!

"Sir Ormsby's dragoons were by this time bridling up their horses and
rolling up their nosebags, evidently with the intention of moving
off. Seeing this, I sought out the general, whom I found seated
against a bank that, instead of a hedge, bordered the road. Whether
naturally a savage, or that he feared committing himself, I know not,
but Sir Ormsby cut my queries short with an asperity totally uncalled
for. 'I know nothing about you, sir! I know nothing at all about
you!' 'But you will perhaps have the goodness to tell me where you
are going yourself?' 'I know nothing at all about it, sir! I told you
already I know nothing at all about you!' and starting abruptly from
his seat, my friend mounted his horse, and (I suppose by instinct)
took the road towards Steenkerke, followed by his brigade, leaving
me and mine alone in the road, more disagreeably situated than ever.
I now began to reflect very seriously on the 'to stay' or 'not to
stay.' In the former case, I bade fair to have the ground all to
myself, for although everybody I spoke to denied having any orders,
yet all kept moving in one and the same direction. In the latter
case, my orders in writing certainly were to stay; but circumstances
might have occurred since to change this, and the new order might
not have reached me. Moreover, it was better to get into a scrape for
fighting than keeping out of the way, so I made up my mind to move
forward too.

"Accordingly I had already mounted my people when Sir H. Vivian's
brigade of hussars, followed by Major Bull's troop of our horse
artillery, passed. Bull, I found, was, like myself, without orders,
but he thought it best to stick close to the cavalry, and advised
me to do the same, which I did, following him and them on the road
to Steenkerke. The country about this place appeared more bare and
forbidding than any I had yet seen in the Pays Bas. Just as we moved
off, the column of Household troops made its appearance, advancing
from Ninove, and taking the same direction.

"It was now that the recollection of my absent waggons began to
torment me, and I actually feared never to see them again. However,
there was no help for it now, and I continued onward. A few miles
farther we crossed the Senne by an old stone bridge, and about four
in the afternoon arrived at Braine le Comte, almost ravenous with
hunger, and roasted alive by the burning sun, under which we had been
marching all day.

"We found several regiments drawn up in close columns, dismounted
and feeding. It was somewhere between Enghien and Braine le Comte
that we met an aide-de-camp (I believe one of the Duke's) posting
away as fast as his poor tired beast could get along, and dressed in
his embroidered suit, white pantaloons, &c., &c., having evidently
mounted as he left the ballroom. This, I remember, struck us at the
time as rather odd, but we had no idea of the real state of our
affairs.

"We had formed up, and were feeding also, but the nosebags were
scarcely put on the poor horse's heads than the cavalry corps,
mounting again, moved off, one after the other, and we were
constrained to follow ere the animals had half finished. Here, as
before, I could obtain no intelligence respecting our march, the
direction and meaning of which all I spoke to professed a profound
ignorance. Whilst halting, Hitchins, slipping into the town, brought
us out a couple of bottles of wine, the which we passed round from
one to the other without any scruple about sucking it all out of one
muzzle.

"A little hamlet (Long Tour, I think) lay at the foot of the
hills, the straggling street of which we found so crowded with
baggage-waggons of some Hanoverian or other foreign corps that for
a long while we were unable to pass. The cavalry, therefore, left
us behind, for they broke into the adjoining fields until they had
cleared the impediment. Although annoyed at being thus hindered,
I could not but admire the lightness, and even elegance, of the
little waggons, with their neat white tilts, and as neat and pretty
_jungfrauen_ who were snugly seated under them. We found the ascent
of the hills more difficult than we expected, the road, which went up
in a zigzag (indeed, it could not have been otherwise), little better
than a woodman's track, much cut up, and exceedingly steep--so much
so, that we found it necessary to double-horse all our carriages by
taking only half up at once."

Now, at last, the sullen guns from Quatre Bras began to make themselves audible. Mercer's gunners were chiefly recruits; they had never yet heard the deep, vibrating sounds that tell of the shock of mighty hosts. That far-off call of angry guns stirred their blood and quickened their march; but the troop reached Quatre Bras only when the battle ended. Mercer's narrative, however, gives a striking picture of how a great battle affects everything within sound of its guns:--

"At length the whole of our carriages were on the summit, but we
were now quite alone, all the cavalry having gone on; and thus
we continued our march on an elevated plateau, still covered
with forest, thicker and more gloomy than ever. At length we had
crossed the forest, and found ourselves on the verge of a declivity
which stretched away less abruptly than the one we had ascended,
consequently presenting a more extensive slope, down which our road
continued. A most extensive view lay before us; and now, for the
first time, as emerging from the woods, we became sensible of a
dull, sullen sound that filled the air, somewhat resembling that of
a distant water-mill, or still more distant thunder. On clearing
the wood it became more distinct, and its character was no longer
questionable--heavy firing of cannon and musketry, which could now
be distinguished from each other plainly. We could also hear the
musketry in volleys and independent firing. The extensive view below
us was bounded towards the horizon by a dark line of wood, above
which, in the direction of the cannonade, volumes of grey smoke
arose, leaving no doubt of what was going on. The object of our march
was now evident, and we commenced descending the long slope with an
animation we had not felt before.

"It was here that Major M'Donald overtook us, and without adverting
to the bivouac at Enghien, of which probably he had never heard,
gave me orders to attach myself to the Household Brigade, under Lord
Edward Somerset, but no instructions where or when. I took care not
to tell him they were in the rear, lest he might order us to halt for
them, which would have been a sore punishment to people excited as
we now were by the increasing roar of the battle evidently going on,
and hoped that by marching faster they might soon overtake us. Just
at this moment a cabriolet, driving at a smart pace, passed us. In it
was seated an officer of the Guards, coat open and snuff-box in hand.
I could not but admire the perfect nonchalance with which my man
was thus hurrying forward to join in a bloody combat--much, perhaps,
in the same manner, though certainly not in the same costume, as he
might drive to Epsom or Ascot Heath. The descent terminated in a
picturesque hollow, with a broad pool, dark and calm, and beyond it
an old mill, perfectly in keeping with the scene. The opportunity of
watering our poor brutes was too good to be missed, and I accordingly
ordered a halt for that purpose. Whilst so employed, an aide-de-camp,
descending from a singular knoll above us, on which I had noticed a
group of officers looking out with their glasses in the direction of
the battle, came to summon me to Sir Hussey Vivian, who was one of
them.

"On ascending the knoll Sir Hussey called to me in a hurried manner
to make haste. 'Who do you belong to?' said he. I told him, as also
that the brigade was yet in the rear. 'Well,' he replied, 'never
mind; there is something serious going on, to judge from that heavy
firing, and artillery must be wanted; therefore bring up your guns as
fast as you can, and join my hussars; can you keep up?' 'I hope so,
sir.' 'Well, come along without delay; we must move smartly.' In a
few minutes our people, guns and all, were on the hill. The hussars,
mounted, set off at a brisk trot, and we followed. Alas! thought
I, where are my ammunition waggons? The hussars, to lighten their
horses, untied the nets containing their hay, and the mouths of their
corn-bags, which, falling from them as they trotted on, the road was
soon covered with hay and oats. We did not follow their example, and
although dragging with us 9-pounders preserved our forage and also
our place in the column.

"By-and-by a large town appeared in front of us, and the increasing
intensity of the cannonade and volumes of smoke about the trees led
us to suppose the battle near at hand, and on the hill just beyond
the town. This town was Nivelle.

"Beyond the town the ground rose, also in shadowy obscurity, crowned
with sombre woods, over which ascended the greyish-blue smoke of the
battle, now apparently so near that we fancied we could hear the
shouts of the combatants--a fancy strengthened by crowds of people
on the heights, whom we mistook for troops--inhabitants of Nivelle,
as we soon discovered, seeking to get a sight of the fearful tragedy
then enacting. Before entering the town we halted for a moment,
lighted our slow matches, put shot into our leathern cartouches,
loaded the guns with powder, and stuck priming wires into the vents
to prevent the cartridges slipping forward, and, thus prepared for
immediate action, again moved on.

"On entering the town what a scene presented itself! All was
confusion, agitation, and movement. The danger was impending;
explosion after explosion, startling from their vicinity, and
clattering peals of musketry, like those lengthened thunder-claps
which announce to us so awfully the immediate neighbourhood of the
electric cloud. The whole population of Nivelle was in the streets,
doors and windows all wide open, whilst the inmates of the houses,
male and female, stood huddled together in little groups like
frightened sheep, or were hurrying along with the distracted air of
people uncertain where they are going or what they are doing. In a
sort of square which we traversed a few soldiers, with the air of
citizens, probably a municipal guard, were drawn up in line, looking
anxiously about them at the numerous bleeding figures which we now
began to meet.

"Some were staggering along unaided, the blood falling from them
in large drops as they went. One man we met was wounded in the
head; pale and ghastly, with affrighted looks and uncertain step,
he evidently knew little of where he was or what passed about him,
though still he staggered forward, the blood streaming down his face
on to the greatcoat which he wore rolled over his left shoulder.
An anxious crowd was collecting round him as we passed on. Then
came others supported between two comrades, their faces deadly pale
and knees yielding at every step. At every step, in short, we met
numbers, more or less wounded, hurrying along in search of that
assistance which many would never live to receive, and others receive
too late. Priests were running to and fro, hastening to assist at
the last moments of a dying man; all were in haste--all wore that
abstracted air so inseparable from those engaged in an absorbing
pursuit. Many would run up, and, patting our horses' necks, would
call down benedictions on us, and bid us hasten to the fight ere
it were yet too late, or uttering trembling and not loud shouts of
'Vivent les Anglais!'

"A few there were who stood apart, with gloomy, discontented looks,
eyeing their fellow-citizens with evident contempt and us with
scowls, not unmixed with derision, as they marked our dusty and jaded
appearance. Through all this crowd we held our way, and soon began to
ascend the hill beyond the town, where we entered a fine _chaussée_
bordered by elms, expecting every moment to enter on the field
of action, the roar of which appeared quite close to us. It was,
however, yet distant.

"The road was covered with soldiers, many of them wounded, but
also many apparently untouched. The numbers thus leaving the field
appeared extraordinary. Many of the wounded had six, eight, ten, and
even more attendants. When questioned about the battle, and why they
left it, the answer was invariable: 'Monsieur, tout est perdu! les
Anglais sont abîmes, en déroute, abîmes, tous, tous, tous!' and then,
nothing abashed, these fellows would resume their hurried route. My
countrymen will rejoice to learn that amongst this dastardly crew not
one Briton appeared. Whether they were of Nassau or Belgians I know
not; they were one or the other--I think the latter.

"One redcoat we did meet--not a fugitive though, for he was severely
wounded. This man was a private of the 92nd (Gordon Highlanders),
a short, rough, hardy-looking fellow, with the national high
cheek-bones, and a complexion that spoke of many a bivouac. He came
limping along, evidently with difficulty and suffering. I stopped
him to ask news of the battle, telling him what I had heard from
the others, 'Na, na, sir, it's aw a damned lee; they war fechtin'
yat an' I laft 'em; but it's a bludy business, and thar's na saying
fat may be the end on't. Oor ragiment was nigh clean swapt aff, and
oor colonel kilt just as I cam' awa'. Upon inquiring about his own
wound, we found that a musket ball had lodged in his knee, or near
it; accordingly Hitchins, dismounting, seated him on the parapet of
a little bridge we happened to be on, extracted the ball in a few
minutes, and, binding up the wound, sent him hobbling along towards
Nivelle, not having extracted a single exclamation from the poor man,
who gratefully thanked him as he resumed his way.

"A little farther on, and as it began to grow dusk, we traversed the
village of Hautain le Val, where a very different scene presented
itself. Here, in a large cabaret by the roadside, we saw through the
open windows the rooms filled with soldiers, cavalry and infantry;
some standing about in earnest conversation, others seated around
tables, smoking, carousing, and thumping the board with clenched
fists, as they related with loud voices--what?--most likely their own
gallant exploits. About the door their poor horses, tied to a rail,
showed by their drooping heads, shifting legs, and the sweat drying
and fuming on their soiled coats, that their exertions at least had
been of no trivial nature.

"The firing began to grow slacker, and even intermitting, as we
entered on the field of Quatre Bras--our horses stumbling from time
to time over corpses of the slain, which they were too tired to step
over. The shot and shell which flew over our line of march from time
to time (some of the latter bursting beyond us) were sufficient to
enable us to say we had been in the battle of Quatre Bras, for such
was the name of the place where we now arrived, just too late to be
useful. In all directions the busy hum of human voices was heard;
the wood along the skirts of which we marched re-echoed clearly and
loudly the tones of the bugle, which ever and anon were overpowered
by the sullen roar of cannon, or the sharper rattle of musketry; dark
crowds of men moved in the increasing obscurity of evening, and the
whole scene seemed alive with them. What a moment of excitement and
anxiety as we proceeded amongst all this tumult, and amidst the dead
and dying, ignorant as yet how the affair had terminated! Arrived at
a mass of buildings, where four roads met (_les quatre bras_), Major
M'Donald again came up with orders for us to bivouac on an adjoining
field, where, accordingly, we established ourselves amongst the
remains of a wheat crop.

"_June 17._--A popping fire of musketry, apparently close at hand,
aroused me again to consciousness of my situation. At first I could
not imagine where I was. I looked straight up, and the stars were
twinkling over me in a clear sky. I put out a hand from beneath my
cloak, and felt clods of damp earth and stalks of straw. The rattle
of musketry increased, and then the consciousness of my situation
came gradually over me. Although somewhat chilly, I was still drowsy,
and regardless of what might be going on, had turned on my side
and began to doze again, when one of my neighbours started up with
the exclamation, 'I wonder what all that firing means!' This in an
instant dispelled all desire to sleep; and up I got too, mechanically
repeating his words, and rubbing my eyes as I began to peer about.

"One of the first, and certainly the most gratifying, sights that
met my inquiring gaze, was Quarter-master Hall, who had arrived
during the night with all his charge safe and sound. He had neither
seen nor heard, however, of Mr. Coates and his train of country
waggons, for whom I began now to entertain serious apprehensions.
From whatever the musketry might proceed, we could see nothing--not
even the flashes; but the increasing light allowed me to distinguish
numberless dark forms on the ground all around me, people slumbering
still, regardless of the firing that had aroused me. At a little
distance numerous white discs, which were continually in motion,
changing place and disappearing, to be succeeded by others, puzzled
me exceedingly, and I could not even form a conjecture as to what
they might be. Watching them attentively, I was still more surprised
when some of these white objects ascended from the ground and
suddenly disappeared; but the mystery was soon explained by the
increasing light, which gave to my view a corps of Nassau troops
lying on the ground, having white tops to their shakos.

"Daylight now gradually unfolded to us our situation. We were on
a plateau which had been covered with corn, now almost everywhere
trodden down. Four roads, as already mentioned, met a little to the
right of our front, and just at that point stood a farmhouse, which,
with its outbuildings, yard, &c., was enclosed by a very high wall.
This was the farm of Quatre Bras. Beyond it, looking obliquely to the
right, the wood (in which the battle still lingered when we arrived
last night) stretched away some distance along the roads to Nivelle
and Charleroi, which last we understood lay in front."