Although barely recovered from the effects of their recent fighting at Quatre Bras, Picton's 3000 gallant men responded to the call, and advanced in two thin lines to meet the 12,000 Frenchmen, already flushed with victory. Nearer the columns approached, and the British lines halted to receive them. Then, when within a few yards, Ney ordered his columns to deploy into line, Picton, taking advantage of the momentary check, delivered a withering volley and then charged in with the bayonet. The head of the leading French column was hurled back in confusion, and the 3000 British soldiers flung themselves upon the disorganised 12,000 Frenchmen, before they could recover from their first surprise. Picton was shot dead as he led the charge, but his gallant action had saved the situation, and it remained for the cavalry to complete Ney's discomfiture in this part of the field, charging the broken infantry, overthrowing the cavalry, and putting the seventy-four guns out of action for the remainder of the day.
Thus ended the second phase of the great battle, and so far Napoleon had made no headway. Yet he was by no means disheartened, and, ordering all his remaining guns into action, he pounded the British line from a distance, while he prepared for his next assault. At 4 P.M. began another phase of the fight, when Wellington's right wing was assailed by squadron after squadron of Cuirassiers, fresh bodies of infantry moving at the same time against La Haie Sainte and Hougoumont. The charges of the French cavalry were magnificent, but the squares in which Wellington had rapidly formed his troops resisted all the enemy's efforts to break them. The British guns also stood firm, firing grape at the charging horsemen, until they arrived within forty yards, when, discharging a salvo, the gunners quitted their guns for the time being and fell back to the shelter of the infantry squares. Four times did the French cavalry charge home, using some 12,000 men for the purpose; yet were they able to do no more than to ride round and between the squares, which, being arranged chequerwise, met them with bristling bayonets and a rattling musketry fire in all directions, throwing them into disorder and obliging the greater number to draw off, with heavy losses in killed, wounded, and prisoners.
It was just before this that the company of the 51st, still posted near the abatis on the Nivelles road, was able to do some execution. A party of Cuirassiers, captured by the British cavalry after riding into the position, broke away from their escort and endeavoured to make their way back to their own lines. Galloping down the Nivelles road, hotly pursued by the escort, they first came under fire of a detachment of the 51st, out in front of the regiment; but from this fire they suffered little, as it became masked by the pursuing British dragoons. The sound of the firing in his rear, however, attracted the attention of Captain Ross, commanding the 51st company near the abatis, and he soon became aware of the approach of the fugitives, who, ignorant of the fact that the road was blocked, came on at full speed. Then Ross turned his men about, and, opening fire, emptied many saddles. "Eight of the Cuirassiers," says Siborne, the historian, "and twelve of their horses, were killed, and the remainder, about sixty, taken or dispersed."
The greater part of Napoleon's famous heavy cavalry was now hors de combat, and had effected little, except that perhaps their several charges had helped Donzelot's infantry to gain a footing in the vicinity of La Haie Sainte, and thus enabled them, a little later, to capture that post. This success to be of any value Napoleon realised would have to be followed up forthwith, for he was already aware that the Prussians from Wavre were approaching his right flank. It was past seven o'clock in the evening, and there was no time to lose; consequently, Napoleon bestirred himself, and prepared for his final grand assault on Wellington's position. The capture of La Haie Sainte proved of great value to the Frenchmen, for Donzelot's men were able to prevent, with their musketry fire, the British gunners in their front from fighting their guns. French guns were then brought up to the post, and at a range of less than a hundred yards, poured grape into the ranks of the Allies. Napoleon felt confident that victory was within his grasp; his grand reserve—his veterans of the Old Guard—still remained at hand, fresh and ready for a supreme effort, and he determined that they should make that effort. Placing Ney in command of the two massive columns of infantry, he ordered them to take a line between La Haie Sainte and Hougoumont, and assail the position. As his beloved veterans passed him on the way to the front, he sat on his white horse with outstretched arm, pointing in the direction which the attack was to take, and the cheers which came from the old soldiers convinced him that if it were possible at this juncture for any troops to break down Wellington's defences, then his Imperial Guard would do it.
Down the slope in front of La Belle Alliance, into the shallow valley marched these 10,000 warriors, headed by the drummers beating the pas de charge.[82] Then, as they began to ascend towards the British position, they pushed forward a cloud of skirmishers, who, joining hands with those of Donzelot, opened a heavy fire. The two columns, advancing to the attack in close order, were now seen to be heading straight for that part of the line held by Maitland's brigade of Guards. On the right of Maitland, Adam's brigade had been moved up, so as to prolong the line as far as the northern enclosure of Hougoumont, to the right rear of which, again, stood Mitchell's brigade, in support of the gallant garrison of the château.
Barely four hundred yards separated the head of the leading French column from the British position, when Sir John Colborne, commanding the 52nd, of Adam's brigade, swiftly realised the situation. Acting on his own initiative, he gave the order to his regiment to advance in quick time towards the flank of the attacking columns, and the long red line moved forward in perfect order. Then suddenly he wheeled his whole line up, so as to face the flank of the columns, and threw out a company of skirmishers with orders to open fire on the Imperial Guard. The Frenchmen, thus challenged, halted and replied, and by so doing brought destruction upon themselves, for Colborne's line was ready for them. The ranks closed up; the bugles rang out; and with one mighty roar from the regiment, eight hundred British bayonets bore down on the veterans of France. But the latter did not stand to receive the charge; the sudden onslaught appalled them; the leading battalions broke and fled to the rear, and in their flight carried with them the whole of the Imperial Guard—the flower of the French army, and Napoleon's last hope. No time was given to them to re-form, for the remainder of Adam's brigade and Maitland's Guards opened fire upon them from the higher ground as they fled; and Wellington, with the light of victory in his eyes, ordered a general advance towards La Belle Alliance, where Napoleon and Ney could be seen rallying their men for a last stand.
But when, as the sun fast approached the horizon, Blücher's Prussians were observed to be moving in rapidly from the east and north-east, the French knew that the squares into which they had been hastily formed would be powerless to stem the tide of the advancing hosts. One man alone amongst them all remained resolute. Napoleon even then refused to acknowledge himself beaten, and enjoined on his soldiers to stand firm, and, if necessary, die by his side on the field. His generals, however, saw that all hope had gone, and begged their emperor to make good his escape while there was yet time. Then, as the squares gave way and melted into the great mass of fugitives pressing south, Soult and the others rode off with their mighty leader—away from his last field of battle. In Wellington, the "Sepoy-General" at whom he had scoffed, Napoleon had met his match.
The pursuit did not slacken for an instant, and Wellington led on his victorious troops as far as Rossomme, when, assured that victory was complete and that the Prussians were following on the heels of the flying Frenchmen, he drew rein, and in the moonlight rode back towards Waterloo. At Genappe he met Marshal Blücher; and, amidst the cheers of those around them, the two great warriors gripped hands, as they congratulated each other on the brilliant result of the battle. Then it was arranged that the Prussians should continue the pursuit; while the British army, worn out by nine hours' hard fighting, bivouacked on the actual battlefield.
The 51st and the 14th lay on their arms for the night in the wood of Hougoumont; the 23rd, having taken part in the general advance, bivouacked near La Belle Alliance; and next morning Mitchell's three regiments, having united again, marched to Nivelles, where they halted for a day to get rations, and were congratulated, in special orders issued by Lord Hill and by Sir Charles Colville, on the part that they had played in "the glorious and for ever memorable battle of the 18th June." For their share in this victory both Colonel Mitchell and Lieutenant-Colonel Rice were appointed Companions of the Bath. Thus once again fortune smiled on Samuel Rice, who, until the autumn of 1813, had considered himself the most unlucky of officers. A stroke of luck, as has been shown, gave him the temporary command of the 51st at the battle of the Nivelle, the Peninsular Gold Medal, and a brevet lieutenant-colonelcy; by luck he obtained the temporary command of the regiment at Waterloo, the Waterloo Medal, and the C.B., as well as the sum of £433, being a field-officer's share of the prize-money granted by Parliament to the victorious army. And by pure and simple luck alone did the 51st take part in the great battle, instead of being at Tubize with the rest of the 4th Division. Moreover, all this led subsequently to Colonel Rice receiving the further honour of being appointed a Knight of Hanover. Yet there are some who maintain that there is no such thing as luck. Without it, Colonel Rice would have missed four decorations—in an age when decorations were not freely given; and without it, he would have gone to his grave unrewarded for his many campaigns, for the Silver Medal for the Peninsular War was not granted until eight years after his death. The services rendered by himself and his regiment at Waterloo may not have been very remarkable, though it is certain that they did all that was required of them.
Some years afterwards, when Captain William Siborne was constructing his famous model of Waterloo, now in the Museum of the R.U.S. Institution, Colonel Rice, among other survivors of the battle, was requested to describe the movements of the regiment which he commanded on that eventful day. His reply[83] was characteristic of the man: he claimed no honour or glory for himself, but he set forth the bald facts:—