The Duke, after clearing the high-road and its left of the allied troops, in order to give full scope to the advancing Prussians, to whom he relinquished the further pursuit of the flying enemy, remained for some time with his advanced troops on the right of Rossomme in conversation with general Vivian, colonel Colborne and others; after which, promising to send the provisions up, his Grace turned his horse round and rode away. On returning leisurely towards Waterloo, about ten o’clock, at a short distance before reaching La Belle-Alliance, he, aided by a clouded moon, descried a group of mounted officers making towards the Genappe high-road from the direction of Frischermont; the Duke turned off to meet them: it proved to be Blücher and his staff; they most heartily congratulated each other on the glorious result of the contest in which they had been so intensely engaged. The conference lasted about ten minutes, when the veteran Blücher, promising to leave his inveterate foe no rallying time on this side of the frontier, shook hands with his Grace and proceeded to Genappe, sending forward to general Gneisenau, who led his advance-guard, orders to press and harass the enemy, and not suffer the grass to grow under their feet, or even allow them to take breath. Bulow’s corps, which led the pursuit, was supported by Zieten’s. Pirch’s corps received orders to turn round and strike across the country, and, if possible, to cut off marshal Grouchy’s retreat.
Our gallant chief returned over the field to Waterloo, and before reaching La Haye-Sainte was obliged to quit the high-road, on account of its being completely blocked up with guns and tumbrels, many of which were upset and lying topsy turvy; whilst the frequent snort and start of the horses told but too clearly that the ground they trod was studded and strewed with the slain. His Grace, on regaining the high-road, was so affected by the cries of the wounded and moans of the dying, as to shed tears, and on his way did not exchange a word with any of his suite, composed only of five persons, one of whom, the late sir Colin Campbell, was armed with a cuirassier’s sword. The Duke was sombre and dejected, as well he might be: grim Death had been busy, and had had a regular gala-day amongst his Grace’s old and well-tried friends, who had followed him in distant climes, and through many an arduous and hard-fought field. The Duke, on this occasion, might have exclaimed with Pyrrhus, “Such another victory, and we are undone!” We may readily believe, that in writing the next day to the duke of Beaufort and the earl of Aberdeen, his Grace only yielded to the genuine dictates of his heart, when he expressed in these, as well as other letters, “The losses I have sustained, have quite broken me down; and I have no feeling for the advantages we have acquired[77].”
Napoleon, after quitting the square, which was about midway between La Belle-Alliance and the farm of Rossomme, rode on our right of the road for some distance, escorted by the gallant remains of the horse-grenadiers of the guard, the only force in the whole French army that now retained the least semblance of order. But finding the ground very heavy, he crossed the road at La Maison-du-Roi, and rode along a cross-road which was also in a very bad state: he then made for the high-road again, passed Genappe, and arrived at Quatre-Bras about eleven o’clock; thence he proceeded to Charleroi.
The remains of the allied army bivacked on what had been the French position. The 52d, 71st, and 2d and 3d battalions of the 95th, halted on the ground that had been occupied by the Imperial guard in reserve, near the farm of Rossomme. The remains of my regiment, with Vivian’s brigade, went to the vicinity of the farm of Hulencourt: I accompanied general Vivian and colonel sir E. Kerrison to the farm, acting as orderly, and still mounted on the cuirassier’s horse.
Thus closed upon us the glorious 18th of June. Fatigue and extreme exhaustion, following such exertions and such excitement as had been our lot that day, left us little power to reflect either upon the completeness of our own triumph, or the extent of the disasters that overtook the remains of our vanquished foes. These fled in utter and hopeless disorder before the Prussians, who dashed into the pursuit, and continued the work of slaughter with a ferocious and avenging spirit, which the conduct of the French two days before had provoked.
Had however the enemy’s cavalry been husbanded, the headlong rush of the victors might have been sufficiently checked, to have allowed the French army to retreat in something like order. But the wreck of that fine army fled, or rather was driven from the long-disputed field, in the wildest disorder and confusion.
More important or decisive events than those which so quickly succeeded each other from the 15th to the 18th of June, never before graced the pages of history. Never did the events of a few days produce such important consequences.
We, the conquerors of Waterloo, and many of us certainly never expected so glorious a termination to the battle, were glad to lie down among the dead and dying, and snatch a few hours of necessary repose:
“Piled high as autumn shocks, there lay
The ghastly harvest of the fray,