1815
The prospect of a lasting peace soon vanished, and unexpected events brought the Royal Dragoons again into the field of conflict. The return of Buonaparte to France, the flight of Louis XVIII. from Paris, and the appearance of a British army near the frontiers of France, followed in rapid succession. An express arrived at the quarters of the Royals on the morning of the 24th of April, 1815, with orders to march on the following morning for Canterbury, and afterwards to Dover and Ramsgate, and to embark for the Netherlands. An augmentation of two troops was at the same time ordered; a hundred horses were received at Canterbury by transfer from the fifth dragoon guards; and about the middle of May the Royals were in Belgium, in quarters in the villages between Ghent and Brussels, where, to pass away the time unemployed by military duties, the officers amused themselves with horse-races and athletic sports.[59]
On the morning of the 16th of June the Royals were suddenly aroused before daybreak by the loud notes of the bugle sounding "to horse." The summons had a highly exhilarating effect on the spirits of the men: they turned out with alacrity, not doubting but the day was big with events, and in a short time they were advancing on Quatre Bras, where the enemy had commenced a furious attack on the advanced-posts. After continuing the march about fifty miles, the Royals arrived at the scene of conflict about dusk in the evening:[60] the fighting had ceased, and the troops bivouacked on the field of battle.
The Prussians had been defeated at Ligny and forced to retire; the Duke of Wellington made a corresponding movement; and the Royal Dragoons, after passing the night under arms in the open fields, were formed in line, on the forenoon of the 17th of June, with the other cavalry regiments, to cover the retreat of the infantry. The British cavalry, manœuvring, and, by their varied evolutions, masking and covering the retreat of the infantry, exhibited a splendid spectacle of war. One squadron of the Royals, commanded by Major Radclyffe, was sent to the front to skirmish. "I was detached," observes the major, in his narrative, "with my squadron to cover the brigade by skirmishing, and Major-General Sir William Ponsonby, and the brigade generally, were pleased to applaud the style in which we acquitted ourselves. It rained with greater violence than I ever witnessed before, which I found to my advantage when it was my turn to skirmish. The enemy had two squadrons of Chasseurs opposed to me, and as they could not overpower us by their fire, they huzzaed and endeavoured to excite each other on with 'Vive l'Empereur!' and once actually charged towards my skirmishers, but they stopped short, not daring to come to daggers with us." Towards the evening the Royals arrived at the position in front of Waterloo, where they halted, and again passed the night in the open fields, without provisions, without drink, and exposed to continued rain.
On the morning of the 18th of June the army was formed in order of battle. "We" (the Royals) "found ourselves," states the Major, in his journal, "in our place in close column behind the second line of infantry, fetlock deep in mud; no baggage for the officers, and neither provision nor water for the men (though some stray cattle had been killed and eaten, and a small supply of spirits had, a short time before, been found on the road), so that we might be said to go coolly into action, for every man was wet to the skin." Notwithstanding these disadvantages the Royals proved "true Britons."
At ten o'clock the French army was seen forming on the opposite heights, from whence a cloud of skirmishers rushed forwards: the fire of the artillery gradually opened, and about noon the columns of attack came sweeping through the valley in all the pomp and majesty of war. A succession of attacks was made at various points, and the Royals were formed in column, awaiting the moment when their services should be required. At length, twenty thousand French infantry (Count d'Erlon's corps) suddenly appeared on the opposite heights, and rushing forward, such was the celerity of their course, that, scarcely seeming to traverse the intermediate space, they quickly ascended the position,—dispersed a Belgic brigade with which they first came in contact,—forced the artillery-men, posted in the rear of the double hedge and narrow road, to abandon their guns,—broke through parts of the British supporting infantry,—and several thousand of French foot having passed La Haye Sainte, had actually crowned the allied position, when Lieutenant-General the Earl of Uxbridge came galloping to that part of the field. A few words issued from his lips: speedily the Royals, the Scots Greys, and Inniskillen dragoons were seen advancing in line; the noble bearing of these distinguished horsemen was characteristic of the innate valour of the officers and men, and the spectacle was singularly imposing. The three regiments halted a few moments to permit the broken battalions to pass through the intervals of squadrons, and then rushed forward, with terrific violence, upon the enemy's infantry. The effect was magical: the heads of the French columns were instantly broken and forced back,—a general flight commenced; the firing ceased, and the smoke having cleared away, those formidable masses, a moment before so menacing and conspicuous, had almost disappeared, or left only the traces of a dispersed rabble flying over the plain. Some, despairing to escape, abandoned their arms, and threw themselves on the ground, and the Royals, Greys, and Inniskillen dragoons were seen trampling down and sabring the French infantry with uncontrollable power. Crowds of French soldiers appeared at different points, surrendering as prisoners: many, however, defended themselves to the last; and others again, rising up, after being ridden over or passed by the dragoons, were observed firing on their rear, the slope of the position being left literally covered with dead.
During the heat of this conflict, Captain Alexander Kennedy Clark,[61] commanding the centre squadron of the Royal Dragoons, having led his men about two hundred yards beyond the second hedge on the British left, perceived in the midst of a crowd of infantry the Eagle of the French 105th regiment, with which the bearer was endeavouring to escape to the rear. Against this body of men, Captain Clark instantly led his squadron at full speed, and plunging into the midst of the crowd, overtook and slew the French officer who carried the Eagle; and several men of the Royal Dragoons coming up at the moment, the Eagle was captured, and Captain Clark, giving it to Corporal Stiles,[62] directed him to carry it to the rear.[63]
Another Eagle was captured by the Greys; and the three regiments, animated by this tide of success, pursued their advantage too far. They crossed the ravine; carried several batteries; and continued their course even to the rear of the enemy's position. The latter, recovering confidence from the disorder too apparent in the movements of this insulated and unsupported brigade, fell upon it with a large body of lancers and some cuirassiers. The three regiments being broken and dispersed in the pursuit, were forced back, and they sustained considerable loss. Their gallant leader, Major-General Sir William Ponsonby was killed,[64] and the command of the brigade devolved on Colonel Muter[65] of the Inniskillen dragoons.
In this attack the Royals took an immense number of prisoners: their conduct excited great admiration, and has been commended by historians. The following is an extract from one of the numerous accounts of the battle of Waterloo:—"The Marquis of Anglesey, galloped up to the second brigade (1st, 2nd, and 6th dragoons), and the three regiments, wheeling into line, presented a beautiful front of about one thousand men. The noble Marquis ordered a charge, which was most gallantly executed. They took the enemy in flank and a most tremendous fight commenced. Every man fought with unparalleled heroism, for every man had his own individual task to perform. The Royals, fired with a noble emulation, rushed into a column of four thousand men, where they captured the Eagle of the 105th regiment and bore it off in triumph. The greater part of this column then threw down their arms, and were immediately conducted to the rear. The Greys also captured an Eagle. Thus the great attack of the enemy on the left was finally overthrown, and two thousand men made prisoners."