The corpses of the slain.”
The battle might be described as having been a succession of assaults, sustained with unabated fury, and often with a boldness and effect that much perplexed our troops and put their firmness to the test. Every renewed attack diminished our numbers, and still the survivors yielded not an inch of ground, and, even without orders, made good the gaps. No other troops in the world would have endured, for so long a period, so terrible a struggle. Our Imperial antagonist admitted that we went through and stood to our work, unlike any troops he had ever seen before and the fact is well authenticated, that Napoleon repeatedly complimented us on our incomparable steadiness and forbearance. But this is not to be wondered at, when our chief, he who had so often directed our energy, affirmed that he had “never seen the British infantry behave so well.” Our glorious contest had been maintained against the most renowned legions of Europe, who had never before shown such uninterrupted audacity and intrepidity. They were led by generals of undoubted skill and gallantry, who with their brave troops had won laurels in many a hard-fought battle, and who believed themselves to be, what their ambitious chief had so often declared, invincible, and as such they were still regarded by most of the continental nations. At Waterloo we had to contend against soldiers of undaunted spirit, full of enthusiasm and careless of life. Never did these heroic men, grown grey in victories, better sustain their reputation than on this occasion. The French are a brave people, and no troops in the world surpass, if any equal them, for impetuosity of attack; but many men will stand fire and face distant danger, and yet shrink from the struggle when closing in desperate grasp with an enemy. It is not bravery alone which decides the battle, calmness is often absolutely necessary, and in this, the most valiant are at times found wanting. Never did a battle require more cool and determined courage than that of Waterloo. Nothing can be more trying to troops than passive endurance of offence; nothing so intolerable as to be incessantly assailed, and not permitted in turn to become assailants. A desperate struggle in a well-contested battle field, differs greatly from acting on the defensive, from holding a position, or from being attacked and not allowed to return the aggression of an enemy. There is an excited feeling when assailing, which stimulates even the weak-hearted, and drowns the thought of danger. The tumultuous enthusiasm of the assault spreads from man to man, and timid spirits catch a gallant frenzy from the brave.
FOOTNOTES:
[71] My gallant friend and companion in arms the general[72] who, on all occasions, from my attending him as orderly, at the close of the day of Waterloo, until his death, so kindly took me by the hand, thought that what had occurred at Marengo, (when Kellermann’s cavalry charged the advancing columns of Austrian grenadiers, and Desaix with a small force attacked their front and snatched a victory which the Austrians considered they had previously gained,) might probably take place at Waterloo, and was therefore most anxious to drive the enemy’s cavalry off, and prevent a like occurrence.
[72] See general Vivian’s letter, Appendix, [No. VII, p. 274].
[73] It was Halkett himself who marked out Cambronne, and having ridden forward at full gallop, was on the point of cutting down the French general, when the latter cried out for quarter and received it. This fact does not well agree with the words popularly ascribed to Cambronne, “La garde meurt, et ne se rend pas.” After having surrendered, Cambronne tried to escape from Halkett, whose horse fell wounded to the ground. But in a few seconds Halkett overtook his prisoner, and seizing him by the aiguillette, hurried him to the Osnabruckers, and sent him in charge of a sergeant to the duke of Wellington. Cambronne was subsequently sent to Ostend, with count de Lobau and other prisoners. It was only the old guard that wore the aiguillette.
The words ascribed to Cambronne, “The guard dies, it never surrenders,” of which we see such numbers of engraving, and which illustrates so many pocket handkerchiefs, and ornaments so much of their crockery, etc., have, notwithstanding they were never uttered, made a fortune: all French historians repeat them. I am in possession of a letter, written to me by a friend of Cambronne’s, and who asked the general, whether it was true that he had uttered the words in question; the reply was, I quote Mr. E. S. Dickson’s own words, “Monsieur, on m’a débité cette réponse.” (“The answer has been placed to my account.”)
[74] It is notorious, that in the bosom of the truly brave, a spark of humanity is always smouldering, even when the ferocity of war rouses the savage passions to the greatest fury. The case above, that of major Toole, 32d regiment, ([page 57],) that of general Pelet, (page 132, note,) together with the anecdote of the French skirmisher with lieutenant-colonel F. Ponsomby, (Appendix, [No. VI],) prove the difficulty of making brave men hate each other.
[75] Good proof, were it wanting, who first drove the French back, and led the van in pursuit.