G. Marshall
The following, by kind permission of the Editor of the Globe, and the author, Colonel R. M. Holden, F.S.A.Scot., is reprinted from the Globe of 14th June, 1906:—
THE WATERLOO BALL
The Congress of Vienna was about to break up, not in the best possible humour, when the announcement fell like a thunderbolt that Napoleon had escaped from Elba, which had been assigned to him on his abdication in 1814, that he had landed in France, had entered Paris, and had re-ascended the throne. The Allied Sovereigns soon silenced their differences in a harmonious resolution to combine against the disturber of the peace. Napoleon was declared the common enemy of Europe, his sovereignty was ignored, and preparations for war at once entered upon. It is estimated that by June a million of men were ready to fall upon France.
The Duke of Wellington established his headquarters at Brussels, where he had with him in and about the city over 25,000 men. The city was filled with fashionable non-combatants of all nations, including numbers of British who had long been cut off from the Continent, and had been drawn thither by curiosity, or from having relations in the army. The whole place teemed with intrigue, for there were still a large number of officials who had served under Napoleon, and were ready to return to him. However, everything outwardly remained quiet, and there was no sense of immediate danger. Parties were common, "and all went merry as a marriage bell." Among the social entertainments none was so much talked about as the now historic ball which was given by Charlotte, Duchess of Richmond, wife of Charles, fourth Duke of Richmond and Lennox, K.G., who, with their family, had occupied a villa in Brussels since the Duke relinquished the Lord-Lieutenancy of Ireland in 1813. The Duchess was a daughter, by his beautiful wife, Jean, of the fourth Duke of Gordon, known by the Highlanders as the "Cock of the North." The daughter of a soldier, the wife of a soldier, and the mother of one, her Grace was in close touch with the army. In her youth there were few more attractive girls than Lady Charlotte Gordon when she used to appear in the feather bonnet and Gordon tartan plaid, in compliment to the 92nd Highlanders and Gordon Fencibles, which her father had raised.
The much-talked-of ball took place on the 15th June, 1815, ninety years ago yesterday. At three o'clock in the afternoon of that day a messenger arrived with important news for the Duke of Wellington that Napoleon at the head of his army had crossed the Sambre that morning, and had forced the Prussians to retire through Charleroi and Fleurus to a position near Ligny. The Duke immediately sent off orders for his troops to hold themselves in readiness to move, but not to advance. The latter he delayed until the evening, when reports from Mons had satisfied him that the attack was not a feint, and that Napoleon really had taken the Charleroi road. The critical state of affairs did not prevent the Iron Duke from attending the ball. On the contrary, he not only went himself, but he encouraged his officers to attend, thinking that their presence there would have a reassuring effect on the people of Brussels. In the room, the coachmaker's store improvised for the occasion, were assembled some two hundred guests, including ladies well known in English society, and most of the Duke of Wellington's staff—the Prince of Orange, the Duke of Brunswick, Lord Hill, Sir Thomas Picton, Sir Henry Clinton, the Earl of Uxbridge, Lord Edward Somerset, Sir Hussey Vivian, Sir William Ponsonby, Sir Denis Pack, and others. The news had spread that the French army was about to cross the frontier, and it caused a very natural sensation, but the dancing was not interrupted. Indeed, we are told that it was maintained with unusual spirit, as if to make the most of the enjoyment which was so soon to be interrupted. An interesting incident occurred which does not appear to have been recorded. During an interval in the dancing, a party of non-commissioned officers of the 92nd Highlanders, headed by their pipers, proudly marched into the room, having been specially invited to give an exhibition of the reel to her Grace's British and foreign guests; never did these Gay Gordons dance with greater grace, or to a more appreciative audience.
The imperturbable Duke of Wellington remained at the ball till past midnight, constantly receiving messages and giving orders privately to the staff. He then quietly withdrew for the desperate encounter which was destined to be the crowning scene in a military career of unequalled brilliancy. The other officers gradually left the room and joined their regiments, many in their dancing pumps. The Duchess of Richmond and her daughters took no further part in the ball; her husband and two of her sons had accompanied the troops. But the girls generally are said to have shown great heartlessness. After saying farewell to their partners, many of them for the last time, they continued dancing for some hours. Meanwhile, drums, bugles, and pipes sounded the assembly through the silent streets; the soldiers came swarming out like bees, and Brussels was soon astir at the unwonted bustle. What followed is well known. Two days later Napoleon's pride was crushed by the most glorious victory ever won by British arms; and, alas, the voice of many a gallant soldier who, but a few hours before, had been a welcome guest at the historic ball in Brussels, was silent in the grave.
The identity of the famous ball-room in Brussels has been the subject of much controversy. For many years it was assumed that the house had been pulled down and the ground built over. The villa occupied by the Duke and Duchess of Richmond has disappeared in the sense that it has been absorbed in the Hospital of the Augustinian Sisters; but it was established by the late Sir William Fraser to his own and the general satisfaction of the public, that the ball was never held in the villa. It took place in the store-room, hired for the occasion, of Mons. Simon, the coachmaker, he who built the famous carriage which Napoleon used in the campaign. It was separate from the villa, and still stands in the Rue de la Blanchisserie, in the lower part of the town, being part of the building which had returned a few years back to its original purpose of a coachmaker's factory and depôt. The room is a long barn-like one, with smooth, old-fashioned pillars, and a polished floor, and has been likened to the Lower School at Eton under Long Chamber—the same square, solid pillars, a low ceiling, and brick, whitewashed walls.