Did ye not hear it? No: ’twas but the wind;
Or the car rattling o’er the stony street:
On with the dance! let Joy be unconfined:
No sleep till morn, when Youth and Pleasure meet
To chase the glowing Hours with flying feet:
But, Hark! that heavy sound breaks in once more;
As if the clouds its echo would repeat;
And nearer, clearer, deadlier than before!
Arm! Arm! it is; it is; the Cannon’s opening Roar!
Had Byron pictured the entry of Lieutenant Webster with a dispatch for the Prince of Orange he would have been more literally, if not artistically, correct. The nineteen words which the Prince read were momentous: “Captain Baron von Gagern has just arrived from Nivelles, reporting that the enemy had pushed up to Quatre Bras.” It had been written at Braine-le-Comte at 10.30 p.m. No further instructions were issued by Wellington, for he had already arranged “for a movement tending to draw the right of his forces in towards the left.”[87] He therefore remained at the ball until about 2 a.m., on the 16th, and then went to bed.
He left the city very early and arrived at Quatre Bras about 10 o’clock. There he found, according to his own statement,[88] “the Prince of Orange with a small body of Belgian troops, two or three battalions of infantry, a squadron of Belgian dragoons, and two or three pieces of cannon which had been at the Quatre Bras—the four roads—since the preceding evening. It appeared that the picket of this detachment had been touched by a French patrol, and there was some firing, but very little; and of so little importance that, after seeing what was doing, I went on to the Prussian army, which I saw from the ground, was assembling upon the field of St Amand and Ligny, about eight miles distant.
“I reached the Prussian army; was at their headquarters; stayed there a considerable time; saw the army formed; the commencement of the battle; and returned to join my own army assembled and assembling at the Quatre Bras. I arrived then at Quatre Bras a second time on that day, as well as I recollect, at about two or three o’clock in the afternoon.
“The straggling fire there had continued from morning; the Prince of Orange was with the line troops still in the same position. I was informed that the army was collecting in a wood in front. I rode forward and reconnoitred or examined their position according to my usual practice. I saw clearly a very large body of men assembled, and a Maréchal reviewing them, according to their usual practice, preparatory to an attack. I heard distinctly the usual cries: ‘En avant! en avant! L’Empereur récompensera celui qui s’avancera!’
“Before I quitted the Prince of Orange, some of the officers standing about had doubted whether we should be attacked at this point. I sent to the Prince of Orange from the ground on which I was standing, to tell him that he might rely upon it that we should be attacked in five minutes, and that he had better order the retreat towards the main position of the light troops and guns which were in front, and which could make no resistance to the fierce attack about to be made upon us. These were accordingly withdrawn, and in less than five minutes we were attacked by the whole French army under Maréchal Ney. There was in fact no delay nor cessation from attack from that time till night. The reserves of the British army from Brussels had arrived at the Quatre Bras at this time; and the corps of Brunswick troops from the headquarters, and a division of Belgian troops from Nivelles, Braine, &c.”
Ney did not begin his attack until 2 p.m. He had only Reille’s corps at his disposal, and he was uncertain as to the movements of the Prussians. But when a move was made against the farm of Gémioncourt,[89] the key of the position, the 7000 troops of the Prince of Orange were speedily driven back, and the wood of Bossu also fell into the enemy’s hands. It was at this precise moment that Wellington and reinforcements arrived. Picton with his brave 5th Division, although exhausted by a long march on a sultry day, were ordered to retake the wood. It was then that Ney hurled his cavalry at them in a determined endeavour to save the situation at all costs.
“One regiment,” we are told, “after sustaining a furious cannonade, was suddenly, and on three different sides, assailed by cavalry. Two faces of the square were charged by the lancers, while the cuirassiers galloped down upon another. It was a trying moment. There was a death-like silence, and one voice alone, calm and clear, was heard. It was their Colonel’s, who called upon them to be ‘steady.’ On came the enemy—the earth shook beneath the horses’ feet; while on every side of the devoted band, the corn,[90] bending beneath the rush of cavalry, disclosed their numerous assailants. The lance-blades approached the bayonets of the kneeling front rank—the cuirassiers were within forty paces—yet not a trigger was drawn. But when the word ‘Fire!’ thundered from the colonel’s lips, each piece poured out its deadly volley, and in a moment the leading files of the French lay before the square, as if hurled by a thunderbolt to the earth. The assailants, broken and dispersed, galloped off for shelter to the tall rye; while a stream of musketry from the British square carried death into the retreating squadrons.” At length Maitland’s division of the Guards secured possession of the wood. The French continued to attack with ardour, but with the close of day Ney fell back upon the road to Frasnes. The British remained at Quatre Bras.
Many brave incidents are recorded. A soldier of the 92nd was wounded in the thigh. After having been attended by a surgeon the medical man dismissed him by saying, “There is now no fear of you, get slowly behind.” His reply, unpremeditated and instant, was, “The presence of every man is necessary,” and calmly went back to his post, from which he never returned. Another fellow had his knapsack carried away from his shoulders by a cannon-ball. He caught it by a dexterous movement before it reached the ground. Wellington happened to be near, and the incident afforded him considerable amusement.
The 2nd Battalion of the 69th Regiment of Foot[91] had its flag captured, the precious symbol being wrenched from the hands of the officer almost at the same time as the attempted capture of another colour during a charge of French cuirassiers. The latter was preserved, although the bearer received severe wounds. Ensign Christie also saved a flag by throwing himself upon it. As the soldier lay on the ground a portion of the colour was torn off by the lancer who had made the attempt, but before the prize could be taken the captor was shot and the piece recovered.