Before commencing my account, I will add that the censorship here is very strict indeed, and that no mention whatever is permitted of numbers of corps or regiments, or of the names of their commanders; as these data are invaluable to an enemy in enabling him to check the truth of information received, and it is always possible that the wires between here and Brussels may be tapped.
Yesterday afternoon I found a place in a train going to Gembloux, where our Cavalry Division had arrived during the morning. Arrived there, I met an old friend in the Hussars, who told me that he and three other officers had been selected for a reconnaissance ride next morning, and that a place in their carriage was at my service. The idea of driving out to a real cavalry action struck me as singular, so I asked for information, and was told by my friend that he and his comrades, who were all noted steeplechase riders, had had several horses in training for a meeting, to which the war had put a stop, and had been told by their colonel to train the horses a little ‘fat’ and bring them along to the front—he would be glad of their services, and find them an opportunity for distinction greater than any to be won between the flags. They were to have their horses led out for them, and, as soon as the expected collision occurred, to mount, slip through the enemy’s scouts in the confusion of the scrimmage, and ride as far as possible to the south and westward to see what was going on behind the cavalry screen.
Needless to say, I accepted the offer, and 2 A.M. found me with my friends driving out along the road to Ligny, where lay the outposts.
Latest reports indicated the enemy’s cavalry, at least a division strong, between Fleurus and Charleroi. The advance-guard of our Division, the Hussar brigade, moved off about an hour before sunrise, following the line of the great road. We stayed behind to await the arrival of the main body, and presently moved over in the direction of St. Amand. Soon the main body was seen approaching, and about the same time we could see the Hussars falling back across the railway, and a report arrived that the French were coming on in force.
The Divisional Commander rode forward to reconnoitre the ground in front, and left orders to the main body to form for attack under cover in a hollow in rear; the same, by chance, in which Blücher had stationed the reserves of his right before the battle of Ligny in 1815.
It was a perfectly faultless morning, and the sun was just beginning to rise when we saw three batteries of French Horse Artillery cross the railway and come out into the plain. Our own batteries were in the act of unlimbering, at double intervals, to allow for the melinite shells; and as they crossed the sky-line the French, too, saw them, and came into ‘action front.’ The two first shots on each side fell almost simultaneously, and the duel began. The hollow in our front and the blinding rays of the sun full in the eyes of the enemy gave us an immense advantage, and in five minutes our side had ‘ranged,’ and one French gun was sent flying. Meanwhile our Hussars had been falling back, and were wheeling up into position as second and third lines to the two heavy brigades.
The French Cavalry were now crossing the railway in line of squadron columns and immediately afterwards formed ‘line,’ and the signal to advance was given by our Commander. As our horse crossed the plateau on which the guns were in action, ‘Troops half left’ was sounded, and the French hearing the signal, no doubt, and seeing also that we were not quite in line, must have guessed our intention to attack their left, and endeavoured to meet it by ‘Shouldering.’
Reaching the hollow our cavalry again wheeled into line, crossed the little brooklet without disorder, and then, by silent signal, broke into column of troops to the right, and galloped up the hollow in a long sweeping stride—their distances perfectly preserved. This movement promised to bring them out right on the flank and rear of the French left, but the next moment we saw the French Reserve, which had hitherto been hidden by trees along the lane from Perwin to Bry—moving in a direction that would bring them right on the flank of our first line. The situation was most critical—we all held our breath—but the next moment we heard the regimental call of the leading regiment, followed by the long ‘G’s’ of ‘line to the front,’ and we knew that the danger was seen and met.
Simultaneously also the tail of the column still in sight wheeled into line, and came dashing forward to the attack.
The French were already in a poor condition to meet it. The attempt to ‘shoulder’ the long line had loosened their order, and from the moment they came in sight our gunners had turned their full power upon them with results almost indescribable. Out of the dust and smoke of the bursting shells we saw limbs and bodies thrown high in the air, and the right and second line of the enemy was already in hopeless confusion before the blow fell on their left. This wing had escaped our shells, for to fire on it would have imperilled our own men. They saw the danger coming, and two squadrons endeavoured to wheel up to meet it, but they were too late, the next moment our trumpets rang out the ‘charge,’ and with a roar of cheering our men dashed forward; we heard the crash of the collision, for a moment saw horses rear up and fall backward, and then the dust rose and shut out all further vision. But the French did not bolt, the wreck of their right and second line wheeled up, rallied on their officers as best they could, and dashed into the mêlée, where they too were lost to sight. From time to time we saw groups of our white-coated Cuirassiers and the dark blue Uhlans emerge from the dust-cloud, then wheel and go back again, and for some moments the fight here became stationary, for the French on this point outnumbered us two to one. Then suddenly from out of the hollow we again heard the charge sounding, and for a second or two caught sight of the left of our third line, as with perfectly closed ranks they dashed into the mêlée. This blow settled the matter. The mass again came into motion; first a few files, followed by more, began to drop off to the rear, and presently the whole cloud, gathering pace as it went, swept down right on to the flank of their horse batteries, who, seeing the danger coming, had endeavoured to limber up in the full fire of our artillery. But they were too late, the crowd swept over them, and when it had passed we saw eight guns still on the ground, with some Hussars and Uhlans busy around them.