THE DUKE OF WELLINGTON AT WATERLOO.
It was on Sunday, 18th June, 1815, that the famous battle of Waterloo was fought. The British army of 67,600 men and the French army of 72,000 lay on the open field the night before that memorable struggle. It had been a wet and stormy night; at dawn the rain was falling heavily, the ground was saturated, and the troops in the rival armies were thoroughly drenched. About nine o'clock it cleared up, but on account of the rainfall no movement was made by the French till towards twelve o'clock.
On the night of the 17th the Duke of Wellington made every portion of his army take up the position it was to occupy on the following day. He slept a few hours at the village of Waterloo and rose early in the morning to write letters, giving orders what was to be done in case the battle was lost: although he felt sure of winning.
Before leaving the village he saw to the preparation of hospitals for the wounded, and to the arrangements made for the distribution of the reserves of ammunition. Then mounting his favourite charger, Copenhagen, he rode to the positions where his men were posted, and made a careful and thorough inspection. The farm house of Hougoumont, where some of the most furious fighting of the day took place, received his special attention.
Having thus done all that a commander could do to ensure the success of the day, he rode back to the high ground from which he could command a full view of the battle, and with a face calm and serene waited for the French attack.
It was this serenity which had so great an effect on his troops. They knew their great commander, and had confidence in him, and this aided them during that eventful day in holding their positions with that stubborn courage which destroyed all the hopes of the Emperor Napoleon.
At Waterloo for the first time the two greatest commanders of the age met face to face. Here across the valley they watched each other in stern anticipation as the church bells called worshippers together for prayer.
At about half-past eleven Napoleon's troops advanced to the attack; and from this time till six or seven o'clock a series of terrific charges continued to be made by the French, resisted and defeated by the steady bravery of the British and Germans.
The duke was often in the thick of the fight, and in so great danger that his staff advised him for the good of the army to withdraw to a somewhat safer position. Passing one of the squares of grenadiers a shell fell among them, and the duke waited to see the result. Several soldiers were blown to pieces by the bursting of the shell, but Wellington seemed quite unmoved either by the terrible sight or his own danger.
All day long the duke was cool as if he had been riding among his men in Hyde Park. Wherever he went a murmur of "Silence! stand to your front!" was heard, and at his presence men grew steady as on parade.
Again and again commanders told him of the fearful havoc made in the ranks of their brigades, and asked either for support or to be allowed to withdraw their men. They generally received this answer, "It is impossible; you must hold the ground to the last man".
When asked by some of his staff what they should do if he fell, he gave the same answer, "My plan is simply to stand my ground here to the last man".
The duke seemed to bear a charmed life. Every member of his staff but one was during the day either killed or wounded, whilst he escaped unhurt. Wherever the danger seemed greatest there was the duke to be found inspiriting his men, restraining them, or putting fresh heart into them.
"Hard pounding this, gentlemen!" he remarked to a battalion on which the French shells were falling with destructive fury; "but we will try who can pound the longest." "Wait a little longer, my lads," was the duke's reply to the murmur which reached him from some of his troops who had suffered heavily from the French fire and were anxious to charge, "and you shall have your wish."
Once when the fire was concentrated on the spot where he was with his staff he told them to separate a little, so as to afford a less conspicuous mark for the enemy.
At another time, when some German troops hesitated to advance against the French, the duke put himself at their head.
When Napoleon's Old Guard was advancing up the hill, the only sight they could see was the duke and a few mounted officers, till a voice was heard, "Up, guards, and at them!" And the best men in the whole French army, the pick of the bravest of the brave, fell back before the onset of the British guards.
At about eight o'clock the duke gave the joyful signal for an advance all along the line. For nearly nine hours the British had been stormed at with shot and shell, had been charged again and again, and had stood firm though impatient. Now they received the signal with a fierce delight, and dashed forward against the enemy with a fury which nothing could resist.
The duke was amongst the first to advance, and spoke joyously to the men as he rode along. The bullets were whistling around him, and one of his staff ventured to point out to him the terrible danger he was running. "Never mind," said the duke, "let them fire away: the battle's won, and my life is of no consequence now."
About 15,000 men out of Wellington's army were killed or wounded on the day of this great battle. But Europe was saved.
The duke, who appeared so calm and unmoved in battle, thus wrote just afterwards, when the excitement of the conflict was over: "My heart is broken at the terrible loss I have sustained in my old friends and companions and my poor soldiers. Believe me, nothing except a battle lost can be half so melancholy as a battle won."