The foremost French battalion of Marcognet’s column was the 45th of the Line, one of Napoleon’s favourite corps, recruited in the capital, and always spoken of by him as “Mes braves Enfants de Paris.” Said he of them indeed once, when pointing them out to the Russian Envoy at the grand review of June 1810: “Mark those soldiers, Prince: that is my 45th—my brave children of Paris! If ever cartridges are burned between my brother the Emperor of Russia and me, I will show him the efficiency of my 45th. It was they who stormed your Russian batteries at Austerlitz. They are scamps [“des vauriens”] off duty, but lions on campaign; you should see their dash, their intrepidity; above all, their cheerfulness under fire!” Small men—“ideal voltigeurs” Napoleon also called the 45th—they stood a poor chance against the stalwart swordsmen of the Scots Greys.
THE FIGHT FOR THE STANDARD.
Sergeant Ewart of the Scots Greys taking the Eagle of the 45th at Waterloo.
From the picture by R. Andsell, A.R.A., at Royal Hospital, Chelsea.
It was they who were to yield up the first of our British Eagle-trophies of Waterloo. The prize fell to a non-commissioned officer of the Greys, Sergeant Charles Ewart, a Kilmarnock man, who achieved the feat of taking it single-handed. Ewart, an athletic fellow of splendid physique and herculean strength, six feet four in his stockings, and a notable sabreur, was plunging through the struggling press of infantry, slashing out to right and left, when he caught sight of the Eagle of the 45th, with its gorgeous new silken flag, bearing the glittering inscription in letters of gold—“Austerlitz, Jena, Friedland, Essling, Wagram.” It was being hurried away to the rear for safety in the middle of a small band of devoted men who surrounded it, and were fighting hard with their bayonets to keep the British off. Sergeant Ewart saw that and rode straight for the Eagle-bearer. Parrying the bayonet-thrusts at him as he got up, he cut down the French officer who carried the Eagle, and then had a fight with two others. These, first one and then the other, were killed or disabled by the sergeant, who in the end carried off the splendid trophy triumphantly.
HOW EWART TOOK THE EAGLE
Ewart himself, in a letter to his father, tells his own story of the taking of the Eagle:
“He and I had a hard contest for it. He thrust for my groin; I parried it off and cut him through the head, after which I was attacked by one of their lancers, who threw his lance at me, but missed the mark by my throwing it off with my sword, at my right side. Then I cut him from the chin upwards, which went through his teeth. Next I was attacked by a foot-soldier, who, after firing at me, charged me with his bayonet; but he very soon lost the combat, for I parried it and cut him down through the head. That finished the contest for the Eagle.”
Napoleon was watching the progress of the fight through his glasses. He witnessed the charge of the Scots Greys—unaware, of course, that it was his pet “Enfants de Paris” who were undergoing their fate. “Qu’ils sont terribles ces chevaux gris!” was the exclamation that, according to the guide De Coster, fell from Napoleon’s lips at the sight. The Greys cut his unlucky 45th to pieces, and had overthrown the rest of Marcognet’s Division in three minutes. “In three minutes,” says a British officer in the charge, “the column was totally overthrown and numbers of them taken prisoners.”