From that time, till half-past seven, the battle raged with violence at every point, and the victory was doubtful. Soon after this, however, some little hesitation was observed in the enemy's movements; and the gallant Blucher advanced, spreading death and dismay over the field on the left of the British. The Duke taking advantage of the favourable opportunity now offered, ordered the whole allied army to advance. The charge proving irresistible, the enemy fled in confusion, and were very roughly handled by our cavalry and artillery. The carnage was dreadful;—in many places the enemy lay in heaps—their squares of infantry suffered tremendously from our artillery—and the numerous mangled corpses which strewed the field, showed, from the nature of their wounds, that our cavalry had done their duty. After a desperate resistance, the enemy were finally driven past La-Belle-Alliance; a little in front of which, we came in contact with the Prussians, who halted, and played our national air of "God save the King." Here it was also where the two illustrious commanders first met after the battle, and congratulated each other on the successful termination of their joint labours.
Hark from the gory ground,
That feeble sound,
White-robed mercy kneels amid the strife:
Sons of the true and brave,
Glory to forgive and save
The worst of fallen foes who plead for life!
Stay the arms uplifted round,
Stoop to staunch the open wound,
They are enemies no more when they yield.
Britannia! yes thy knee shall bend
To raise the vanquished foe—a friend!
Whose grateful hand thy wreath shall blend
When the lion of Old England leaves the field.
CHAPTER XXXII.
As soon as it was known in Brussels that the allied army had retired from Quatre-Bras, and the Prussians from Ligny, the whole population was thrown into a state of agitation not to be described. The 17th was a day of alarm, the 18th one of horror. That part of the old ramparts which faces Waterloo, was crowded at an early hour with people of every description. Until nearly two o'clock, all was conjecture, but from that hour wounded soldiers arrived every minute from the field of blood. At one time it was said Napoleon had been defeated,—at another that he was victorious, and would enter Brussels in the evening. These reports threw the good people into a state of mind bordering on insanity. At first the wounded were few and far between, but in a short time the road was covered with them. About half-past four the alarm of the citizens was at its height,—a French column having been seen on its march to Brussels, but whether as victors or prisoners none could tell, for none had ever inquired. By and bye the column entered, 2000 in number, but not as was anticipated by every body, victors,—but as prisoners of war, being those we captured at three o'clock. Fears however still continued to haunt their breasts, for nothing could convince them but that Napoleon must be the conqueror.
On the arrival of our wounded in Brussels, all ranks vied with each other in acts of personal kindness and attention. Many of the most respectable inhabitants, ladies as well as gentlemen, waited their arrival at the gates, and to each soldier distributed wine, tea, coffee, soup, bread, and cordials of various descriptions. Those who remained at home ministered to the wants of the poor maimed houseless wanderers; dressed their wounds, and if unable, from the severity of their wounds, to proceed farther, a bed was immediately provided for them, on which they might rest their wearied and fractured limbs.
In almost every house there were wounded soldiers. In order to shew the number quartered in these houses, and the country to which they belonged, the inhabitants affixed a paper on their windows or their doors, intimating that they had four wounded English, or four wounded Scotch, &c. Nothing could exceed the attention of the ladies to their patients. In the house where I was quartered there were three ladies, the mother and two daughters. The latter always visited the hospitals morning and evening, taking with them such articles of food or raiment as they thought the sufferers required. One morning the youngest returned in tears. Having seen a number of bad cases, the amiable and humane little creature thought that she would be able to view without shrinking the mangled frame of an unfortunate artillery officer, who had lost both his legs. But on entering his chamber, she found the poor sufferer in the agonies of death. This being more than she could bear, she burst into tears—hurried from the apartment—and returned home in the state of mind previously described.
In the Rue de l'Empereur, another family, consisting of an aged mother, a son, and three daughters, set apart two front rooms of the street floor for the accommodation of the wounded. One of them was fitted up with mattresses for those who were completely disabled, and the other as a laboratory and cooking apartment, where all those who could stroll about had their wounds dressed by the young ladies. Whatever medicines or nourishments was required, were distributed with a bountiful hand.
The French wounded were almost all placed in the city hospitals, or the houses of those who had shewn themselves to be any thing but friendly to the pending struggle. Many of the poor wretches, although not able to lift their heads from their pillows, kept constantly crying, "Vive l'Empereur!" One day an officer sent by Louis XVIII. went round the various hospitals to inquire into the wants of the patients, and offer assistance to all who required it. But they replied that they had no king but one, "Vive l'Empereur;" and one of them, finding he had but a short time to live, converted the cry into a kind of song, which he chaunted as long as he could speak.
At the close of the memorable charge made by us at three o'clock, a friend of mine made lawful prize of a beautiful charger, very richly caparisoned. The richness of the furniture led him to expect a pair of handsome pistols in the holsters, but on opening them, he was most agreeably disappointed to find that a good bottle of champaigne occupied the one, and the leg of a fowl and piece of bread the other. Our mouths being much parched at the time, the bottle was instantly decapitated by my friend's sword, who being of a very generous disposition, shared the wine with another officer and myself. It was, without exception, the most delicious glass of champaigne I ever drank.
A French general who was made prisoner on the 18th, having on various occasions rendered himself rather conspicuous by his entire devotion to the cause of the Usurper, was very roughly treated on entering Brussels. To court the favour of the populace, the general had no sooner entered the city, than he, in a true turn-coat style, cried, "Vive le Roi!" But he soon found that he had committed a most egregious blunder, for, indignant at his bare-faced impudence, the people pelted him with mud and offals, till he quitted the city at the other extremity.