The initial assault of Hougoumont. A few British infantry were stationed outside the chateau proper, defending the orchard and walled garden. Once the size of the French attack became clear they fell back into the buildings.
Wellington did not want to change his dispositions until it was clear whether the attack on Hougoumont was a real attack or a feint. He did, however, push forward a battery of howitzers to fire explosive shells over the chateau into the woods beyond. Otherwise he did not fall into the trap that Napoleon had laid.
French cannon
The main battle opened when a massed battery of 84 cannon fired as one a little before noon. The massive noise of so many guns firing at once stunned those on the battlefield and was heard by both Grouchy and Blücher.
Grouchy was, at this point, marching north toward Wavre. His progress was slow, partly because of the poor state of the road but also because he had delayed his departure from Gembloux until he was certain that Blücher had gone to Wavre. He had sent a letter to Napoleon on leaving Gembloux, and this arrived with Napoleon as the attack on Hougoumont got underway. Napoleon was aghast to learn that Grouchy was moving so slowly. He sent an immediate reply telling Grouchy to get a move on, specifically telling him to get between Wavre and Waterloo. Napoleon knew this message would not reach Grouchy for a couple of hours, but speed was now of the essence.
Meanwhile, French scouts had captured a Prussian hussar carrying a message from Blücher to Wellington. It was a routine update on Bülow’s progress, but it was the first time Napoleon realized that the Prussians were marching on Waterloo. Napoleon hurriedly discussed the news with Soult, whereupon the grinning Prussian chipped in, speaking reasonable French, to boast that the entire Prussian army was on the march.
Napoleon moved Lobau’s VI Corps forward to his right flank to face east on a line from Frischermont in the north to Plancenoit in the south. They would halt the Prussians, or at least delay them long enough to allow Napoleon to defeat Wellington.
The vast battery of 84 cannon had, meanwhile, been pounding Wellington’s centre on both sides of the crossroads. They were firing both solid shot and shells to increase the damage done. As usual, Wellington had put his men behind the crest of the hill both to shelter them from cannon fire and to hide his dispositions from the enemy. Nevertheless, Napoleon had guessed where Wellington would have his main force and was directing his fire at it. Although many shot and shell hit the front of the ridge and sank into the mud, many of them went over the ridge to strike the men beyond.
Casualties among Wellington’s army were not so high as they would have been if he had put his men on the forward slope in the continental manner, but they were still high. Infantry regiments were ordered to sit or lie down to try to reduce casualties, while the cavalry were moved back or to the side.
French infantry attack
At 1.30 pm Napoleon judged that Wellington’s army must have suffered enough casualties to have weakened their line and reduced morale. D’Erlon’s I Corps marched forward to attack. More than 15,000 infantry were marching forward, their front protected by a swarm of skirmishers and their flanks by heavy cavalry.
One French brigade was earmarked to attack the farm of La Haye Sainte. After a delay caused by the fire of the British 95th Rifles in the sandpit, the French fell on the farm and its King’s German Legion defenders. Led by Major Baring, the Germans had found the farm in a terrible condition for defence. The main gate had been chopped up for firewood, so only the flimsiest of barricades blocked the main entrance. Baring had 400 men, the French had 2,000.
Before long La Haye Sainte was surrounded by French infantry, who captured the orchard and were battering at the gates. On the ridge behind the farm, the Prince of Orange saw the farm surrounded. Realizing that the main attack of d’Erlon would pass to his east, the prince decided to send a Hanoverian infantry regiment to the rescue. Intent on the French infantry, the prince sent the regiment forward in line formation. Suddenly erupting from the smoke of the fighting around La Haye Sainte came a regiment of French cuirassiers, which charged into the Hanoverians and slaughtered them.
The main French column, meanwhile, had been slogging up the slope towards Wellington’s line. It was formed into three sections. On the left was Quiot’s division, in the centre was Donzelot’s and on the right was Marcognet’s division. For the final few minutes, the French battery redoubled its efforts to deluge the defenders with explosive shells to inflict as many casualties as they could and damage morale as much as possible.
As Donzelot’s French infantry crested the ridge they found themselves facing Dutch troops commanded by Major General van Bijlandt. Using their novel formation, the French could fire more muskets than usual. A crashing volley inflicted heavy casualties on the Dutch, who had already taken losses at Quatre Bras. When the French came on with fixed bayonets it proved to be too much. Bijlandt’s men fled. There was a gap in the line. Seeing this, General Picton began leading forward some British infantry, but was shot dead by a bullet that went through his hat and smashed in his skull.
General Thomas Picton was a blunt, plain-speaking officer who rarely wasted time on small talk or on subtle battlefield manoeuvres. Although shown here in formal uniform, he preferred to wear a civilian outfit on campaign and was in a black frock coat when he was killed at Waterloo.
Quiot’s left-hand French column met the British infantry under Sir James Kempt and a fierce firefight developed. The British had the advantage of lining the hedges along the road that ran east-west along the crest of the ridge. Even so, with the French in their new formations both sides could deploy about 2,000 muskets and were evenly matched.
To Bijlandt’s left, the British redcoats were also being struck by d’Erlon’s novel formation. The 92nd Highlanders took heavy casualties and fell back. As they gave way the 92nd disrupted the formation of the 44th behind them and both units gave ground. With fixed bayonets, Marcognet’s infantry surged forward into the gap. To their left was Donzelot’s division, also marching forward through the gap they had created.
Some of Marcognet’s men began to shout ‘Victoire’ as they saw the open ground ahead of them. The officers began to redeploy their infantry so that they could turn to take those British regiments still fighting in the flank – and defeat them.
Now was the time for the French heavy cavalry. Their task was to surge through the gap created by d’Erlon’s skilful infantry attack to fan out and smash Wellington’s troops from the rear. However, from where they were – to the right rear of the French infantry – the cuirassiers could not see what was happening due to the smoke and the lie of the land. Napoleon could see, and sent a galloper forward to tell Brigadier François Wathiez to charge forward and destroy Wellington.
Also able to see what was happening, but a good deal closer to the action, was the earl of Uxbridge. He hurriedly ordered Lord Edward Somerset, who commanded the elite heavy cavalry Household Brigade, to prepare to charge, then spurred over to Sir William Ponsonby of the Union Brigade to give him the same order, backed by the instruction to follow Somerset as soon as his men moved off. Galloping back to Somerset, Uxbridge hurriedly surveyed the scene. He knew that if he got into the gap before the French heavy cavalry he would be able to catch the French infantry as they were redeploying. If not, then the battle would be lost. Waving his sabre he gave the order to charge.
Honoré Reille
Born in 1775, Reille served in several campaigns in the Revolutionary Wars, but made his mark when appointed governor of Florence in 1800. At this date the various small states of Italy were being reorganized to ease the spread of the ideals of the French Revolution. After a year Florence was incorporated into the new Kingdom of Etruria, a client state of France. Reille went to take up a military command in Germany, but his success in civil administration had not been forgotten. In 1808 Napoleon sent him to Spain to act as governor of Aragon. There, Reille enjoyed some success i
n pacifying his area, but in 1813 was defeated by Wellington at Vitoria. After the fall of Napoleon, Reille served Louis XVIII before defecting to Napoleon at the first opportunity. After Waterloo he briefly went into exile, but returned in 1819 to become a peer of France. He held a series of military positions until promoted to be Marshal of France in 1852. He died in 1860 in Paris at the age of 84 and was given a formal funeral.
Chapter 8
‘Galloping at Everything’
Waterloo speaking about British cavalry after the Battle of Maguilla in 1812. The full quote is ‘Our officers of cavalry have acquired the trick of galloping at everything. They never consider the situation, never think of manoeuvring before an enemy, and never keep back or provide for a reserve’
First of the British heavy cavalry to move were the Life Guards, led by Uxbridge himself, with the 1st Dragoon Guards to their left and the Horse Guards behind in support. Spurring to a trot, then a canter and gallop, this force of more than 1,000 large men on large horses poured through the spaces in the line held by the Prince of Orange to the west of the main road to Brussels.
Leaping over the hedges to their front, the tide of rushing horsemen crashed into the small group of cuirassiers who had just scattered the Hanoverians sent forward by the Prince of Orange. Disorganized by their own success, the French were thrown aside. Some fell over the steep bank where the Brussels Road cut through the rise of the ridge and tumbled down – men and horses lost their lives. The fight between the two sets of elite heavy cavalrymen provided a highpoint in the cavalry action.
The Horse Guards and Dragoon Guards continued on down the slope west of La Haye Sainte. Brushing aside other French cavalry they reached the infantry still trying to smash a way into the courtyard. They, too, were thrown back by the triumphant heavy horsemen. Somerset slowly got his men under control. Having secured the approaches to La Haye Sainte and made sure that Baring and his men were safe, Somerset led his regiments back up the slope.
They had not got halfway up the slope, when Somerset saw more French horsemen. Charging again, Somerset drove into two brigades of cuirassiers and took them utterly by surprise. The French scattered and fled. Again Somerset got his men in hand and returned to where he had started.
Uxbridge, meanwhile, had wheeled the Life Guards to their left. He led them in a spirited charge across the face of the ridge north of La Haye Sainte to crash into the flank of the French infantry of Quiot. The sudden charge slammed into the French men exchanging fire with the British infantry along the hedges. An officer of the British infantry who had been taking heavy casualties later recorded the sudden and unexpected impact of Uxbridge and his men:
‘The infantry to our front gave way, followed by the Life Guards who were cutting away in all directions. Hundreds of the infantry threw themselves down and pretended to be dead while the cavalry galloped over them, and then they got up and ran away.’
The final act in the dramatic assault on Wellington’s centre by the vast French infantry columns led by D’Erlon. The Scots Greys, having smashed through the infantry, went too far down the hill and found themselves exposed to a flank attack by French lancers while their path was blocked by cuirassiers.
Uxbridge reformed his men in time to see another French brigade of infantry coming up the hill out of the smoke. Wheeling almost as calmly as if on parade, Uxbridge charged again, causing the French infantry to turn and run back down the slope. There was then some confusion as the British infantry came running down the slope with bayonets fixed. In the smoke and disorder the British officers mistook the blue French uniforms for blue Dutch uniforms. The chase was called off, allowing far more Frenchmen to escape than would otherwise have been the case.
While all this was taking place, Ponsonby had seen the Household Brigade start forward and had ordered his trumpeter to sound the charge. On his right were the Royal Dragoon Guards, in his centre came the Inniskilling Dragoons and on his left the Scots Greys. It was the English, Irish and Scottish nationalities of the regiments that gave the unit its name – the Union Brigade.
The Scots Greys on the left had been sheltering from the cannon fire in a dip in the ground. As they spurred up the slope out of the dip to reach the crest of the ridge they ran headlong into the lead units of Marcognet’s division. To the Frenchmen it seemed as if the huge men on grey horses had erupted straight out of the earth. There was no time for the French to get into square, nor even to see what was happening before the Greys were upon them.
One French officer recorded how he had been intent on organizing his men to fire at the disintegrating British infantry when:
‘I turned to push one of my men into position when I was amazed to see him fall dead at my feet from a sabre slash. I turned round instantly to see British cavalry forcing their way into our formation and hacking us to pieces.’
So dense was the French column that the Scots Greys were slowed to a walk as they butchered their way through. Seeing the change of fortunes, the scattered men of 92nd turned and – entirely without orders – charged at the French with their bayonets fixed. The carnage was frightful.
Eagle of the Empire
As the killing proceeded, Sergeant Charles Ewart had just killed a French officer when he realized that he was next to a French flag. At this date the capture of a flag was an achievement of great honour, and the loss of one a great disgrace. This particular flag was no ordinary banner, but an Eagle of the Empire. When he became emperor in 1805, Napoleon had presented each regiment in the French army with a gilded bronze eagle mounted on a pole, to which was attached a French flag. Many of these had been destroyed by Louis XVIII, but Napoleon made a point of having new ones made and issued to the regiments in time for the campaign of 1815.
Ewart grabbed the flag and yanked it, causing the man who held it to turn on him. Using his height on his horse and enormous physical strength, Ewart unbalanced the Frenchman, then hacked him down with his sabre. Another Frenchman at once attacked Ewart, but he, too, was killed. A wounded Frenchman on the ground then shot his musket at Ewart, but missed. Ewart then rode back to the ridge to report his achievement to an officer.
The Inniskillings and Royals slammed head on into Donzelot’s men who had scattered the Dutch. One squadron of the Royals were unable to get through the hedges, and had to stop, move to the left and reform before continuing their charge. They were therefore some distance behind their comrades.
The rest of the Royals and Inniskillings crashed into the French infantry, bursting open their formation and doing as much damage as the Greys had done. Captain Kennedy of the Royals reported what happened next:
‘I did not see the eagle and colour (for there were two colours, but only one with an eagle) until we had been probably five or six minutes engaged. It must, I should think, have been originally about the centre of the column, and got uncovered from the change of direction. When I first saw it, it was perhaps about forty yards to my left and a little in my front. The officer who carried it and his companions were moving in the direction, with their backs towards me, and endeavouring to force their way into the crowd. I gave the order to my squadron, “Right shoulders forward, attack the colour”, leading direct on the point myself. On reaching it, I ran my sword into the officer’s right side a little above his hip joint. He was a little to my left side, and he fell to that side with the eagle across my horse’s head. I tried to catch it with my left hand, but could only touch the fringe of the flag, and it is probable it would have fallen to the ground, had it not been prevented by the neck of Corporal Styles’ horse, who came up close to my left at the instant, and against which it fell. Corporal Styles was Standard Coverer; his post was immediately behind me, and his duty to follow wherever I led. When I first saw the eagle I gave the order “Right shoulders forward, attack the colour”, and on running the officer through the body I called out twice together “Secure the colour, secure the colour, it belongs to me.” This order w
as addressed to some men close to me, of whom Corporal Styles was one. On taking up the eagle, I endeavoured to break the eagle from the pole with the intention of putting it into the breast of my coat; but I could not break it. Corporal Styles said “Pray, sir, do not break it,” on which I replied “Very well, carry it to the rear as fast as you can, it belongs to me.’’’
Having hacked their way through Marcognet’s men the Scots Greys careered on down the slope. Seeing them come, a reserve French brigade commanded by Comte Pierre Durutte formed square. The Greys made little impression, but rode past as the French fired and emptied several saddles.
Moments later the squadron of the Royals that had been delayed came rampaging down the hill and struck Durutte’s square before his men had time to reload their muskets. They cut their way into the square, the men of which promptly turned and fled with the vengeful horsemen killing anyone they could reach.
Ponsonby was now trying to rally his men. His regiments had come farther down the slope than those of Somerset and were considerably more disordered from having hacked their way through dense infantry formations. It was then that the heavy cavalry sent forward by Napoleon to exploit d’Erlon’s success arrived on the scene. Cheated of their expected victory, the cuirassiers fell vengefully on the exhausted British cavalry. Another French cavalry unit, the lancers of the Imperial Guard, had been stationed on the far right near Papelotte and the ravine of the Smohain stream. Their commander saw the cuirassiers attacking the tired British cavalry and led his lancers to join in.
Ponsonby was cut down by a lancer when his heavy horse got stuck in a muddy ploughed field, and hundreds of his men were similarly killed by the lancers and cuirassiers. Baron Gighny, leader of the Dutch light cavalry, spurred forward with his two regiments to join the fray, followed by Sir John Vandeleur with three regiments of British light cavalry.
The Battle of Waterloo: Europe in the Balance Page 10