The Autobiography of Sergeant William Lawrence, William Lawrence [best book club books of all time .TXT] 📗

for this was indeed a short campaign compared with our Peninsular affairs, and it may be supposed we were by no means sorry for that. We embarked on board the same ships, and again tacked to the West Indies to get provisions at one of the Spanish islands, where we took on board live cattle and water, and as food for the former a kind of cabbage, which on account of their size were called cabbage-trees.

Thence we proceeded on our route to Portsmouth, and had a very pleasant voyage with fair weather prevailing; but when near England we fell in with an English frigate, which informed us that Napoleon Buonaparte had left the island of Elba with a small force and had landed in France to collect more troops. This was indeed a disappointment to me, for I felt sure that if he again intended disturbing Europe, we should have to be on the scene again. But in another way it caused no small amount of stir on board, for the young officers, who were looking ravenously forward to promotion, were so rejoiced at the news that they treated all the men to an extra glass of grog, to make everybody as lively as themselves.

Nothing else of any particular note occurred on our voyage, and having arrived near Portsmouth a signal was raised, and we fell in on the quarantine ground, hoisting a yellow flag for a doctor to inspect us on board. When he came he found all on board our ship to be in very good condition, which was reported to the general, and the very next morning he signalled to us to weigh anchor and proceed to Flanders; so without setting foot on English ground we again went on our way to meet our common enemy. This time, however, he was not in his old quarters, but in the north of France, where he had collected more than a hundred thousand troops.

I left Portsmouth this time with a good deal lighter heart than I had last, being now more used to war and hardships than to peace and plenty, though perhaps I would rather have landed than proceed on this errand; and, indeed, there were many of us who had left wife and children at home who went off with a very sad heart.

Our voyage this time was a very short one, only occupying one day; and early on the following morning we arrived in sight of Flanders and there brought up at anchor. Very shortly some small vessels came alongside to convey us to the quay at Ostend, where we landed, and after marching about half a mile we came to a canal, where we embarked in large open barges, in which we were towed by horses past Bruges, about twelve miles off Ostend, to Ghent, which at a wide guess might be twice the same distance further. We landed at Ghent and lay there about nine days, while Louis XVIII. was staying in the town, he having been obliged to flee from Paris by that old disturber after a short reign of about ten months.

At the end of the nine days the drums beat at midnight, and we arrayed ourselves in marching order as quickly as possible. The landlord of the house where I was staying had got up, and would kindly insist on filling our canteens—that is a capacity of about three pints—with gin, giving us as well some bread and meat each, and warning us to look out, for he knew the French were coming. All having assembled at the rendezvous, orders were given to march on to Brussels immediately. I could not exactly say what the distance was, but it was probably not less than forty miles, taking us two days of hard marching to accomplish it.

CHAPTER XXII.

Waterloo — Dreadful night before the battle — Opening of the battle — Unpleasant contiguity with a shell — A recruit taken suddenly and conveniently ill — The regiment in the thick of it — Rout of Napoleon's Bodyguards — Repeated charges of the French infantry and cavalry successfully repulsed — Lawrence in charge of the colours — Death of his captain — Gallant stand of the British until the arrival of the Prussians — Lawrence on the tactics of the enemy — The French finally driven off the field by Blucher's army — Bivouac on the enemy's ground — Fatal results of trifling with a powder-wagon — Lawrence's supper in danger — He invites a guest to supper, who, however, takes French leave — On the march again.

On the 17th of June, 1815, we marched through Brussels, amid the joy of the inhabitants, who brought us out all manner of refreshments. I heard some remarks from them to the effect that we were all going to be slaughtered like bullocks, but we only laughed at this, telling them that that was nothing new to us. Some of the younger recruits, however, were terribly downcast and frightened at the idea of fighting, but I have often found that it is these most timid ones who when they come to an actual battle rush forward and get killed first; probably owing to the confused state they are in, while the more disciplined soldiers know better what course to pursue.

From Brussels we marched to about five or six miles out of the town, not far from the village of Waterloo, when our commander sent his aide-de-camp to Lord Wellington for general orders how he was to act, or as to what part of the line we were to fall in at. The orders returned were that we were to stay in our present position till next morning, so that night we crept into any hole we could find, cowsheds, cart-houses, and all kinds of farmstead buildings, for shelter, and I never remember a worse night in all the Peninsular war, for the rain descended in torrents, mixed with fearful thunder and lightning, and seeming to foretell the fate of the following morning, the 18th, which again happened to be Sunday.

The allied army had on the 16th and 17th been attacked by Napoleon's large forces at Ligny and Quatre Bras, but neither side had obtained any great success, beyond thousands being killed on both sides; during the night of the 17th, therefore, firing was continually going on, which I could distinctly hear, in spite of its being considerably drowned by the thunder. All that night was one continued clamour, for thousands of camp-followers were on their retreat to Brussels, fearful of sticking to the army after the Quatre Bras affair. It was indeed a sight, for owing to the rain and continued traffic the roads were almost impassable, and the people were sometimes completely stuck in the mud: and besides these a continual stream of baggage-wagons was kept up through the night.

Early in the morning of the 18th we were again put on the march to join our lines, our position being in the reserve, which included the Fourth and Twenty-Seventh Regiments, together with a body of Brunswickers and Dutch, and formed a line between Merk Braine and Mont St. Jean on the Brussels road. Our regiment took the left of this road, but did not remain there long, for the French were seen in motion, and on their opening fire from their cannon we soon marched up to action in open column.

During this movement a shell from the enemy cut our deputy-sergeant-major in two, and having passed on to take the head off one of my company of grenadiers named William Hooper, exploded in the rear not more than one yard from me, hurling me at least two yards into the air, but fortunately doing me little injury beyond the shaking and carrying a small piece of skin off the side of my face. It was indeed another narrow escape, for it burnt the tail of my sash completely off, and turned the handle of my sword perfectly black. I remember remarking to a sergeant who was standing close by me when I fell, "This is sharp work to begin with, I hope it will end better:" and even this much had unfortunately so frightened one of the young recruits of my company, named Bartram, who had never before been in action and now did not like the curious evolutions of this shell so close to him, that he called out to me and said he must fall out of rank, as he was taken very ill. I could easily see the cause of his illness, so I pushed him into rank again, saying, "Why, Bartram, it's the smell of this little powder that has caused your illness; there's nothing else the matter with you;" but that physic would not content him at all, and he fell down and would not proceed another inch. I was fearfully put out at this, but was obliged to leave him, or if he had had his due he ought to have been shot. From this time I never saw him again for at least six months, but even then I did not forget him for this affair of cowardice, as I shall have occasion to show hereafter.

The right of our line had been engaged some little time before we were ordered up, and then our position was changed, we having to cross the road and proceed to the right of a farmhouse called La Haye Sainte. Owing to the rain that had been peppering down the whole night and even now had not quite ceased, the fields and roads were in a fearful state of dirt and mud, which tended to retard our progress greatly as well as to tire us. It made it very bad too for the action of cavalry, and even more so for artillery.

About ten o'clock the action of the day began at Hougoumont on our right, and from there it fell on our centre, where we were attacked by a tremendous body of cavalry and infantry. The fire, however, which had been kept up for hours from the enemy's cannon had now to be abated in that quarter, owing to the close unison of the two armies. And from this time onward we endured some heavy work throughout the day, having constantly to be first forming square to receive the repeated attacks of their cavalry, and then line to meet their infantry, charge after charge being made upon us, but with very little success. At the commencement the commanding officer was killed by a musket-shot, but his place was soon filled up.

On our left on the turnpike road was placed a brigade of German cavalry with light horses and men. When Buonaparte's Bodyguards came up they charged these, making fearful havoc amongst their number; they were routed and obliged to retreat, but the Life Guards and Scotch Greys fortunately making their appearance immediately, some close handwork took place, and the Bodyguards at last finding their match, or even more, were in their turn compelled to fall back before the charge of our cavalry, numbers of them being cut to pieces. Still nothing daunted, they formed again, and this time ascended at us; but of the two, they met with a worse reception than before, for we instantly threw ourselves into three squares with our artillery in the centre; and the word having been given not to fire at the men, who wore armour, but at the horses, which was obeyed to the very letter, as soon as they arrived at close quarters we opened a deadly fire, and very few of them wholly escaped. They managed certainly at first to capture our guns, but they were again