The intelligence of Buonaparte’s advance reached Brussels on the evening of the 15th of June, when orders were immediately issued by the Duke of Wellington for the assembling of the troops. The men of the 42d and 92d regiments had become great favourites in Brussels, and were on such terms of friendly intercourse with the inhabitants in whose houses they were quartered, that it was no uncommon thing to see a Highland soldier taking care of the children, and even keeping the shop of his host,—an instance of confidence perhaps unexampled. These two regiments were the first to muster.[333] “They assembled with the utmost alacrity to the sound of the well-known pibroch, Come to me and I will give you flesh,[334]—an invitation to the wolf and the raven, for which the next day did, in fact, spread an ample banquet at the expense of our brave countrymen, as well as of their enemies.... About four o’clock in the morning of the 16th of June, the 42d and 92d Highland regiments marched through the Place Royal and the Parc. One could not but admire their fine appearance; their firm, collected, steady, military demeanour, as they went rejoicing to battle, with their bagpipes playing before them, and the beams of the rising sun shining upon their glittering arms. Before that sun had set in the night, how many of that gallant band were laid low!... The kind and generous inhabitants assembled in crowds to witness the departure of their gallant friends, and as the Highlanders marched onward with a steady and collected air, the people breathed many a fervent expression for their safety.”
The important part taken in the action of Quatre Bras by the Black Watch could not be told better than in the simple words of one who was present, and did his own share of the work, Sergeant Anton[335] of the 42d:—
“On the morning of the 16th June, before the sun rose over the dark forest of Soignes, our brigade, consisting of the 1st, 44th, and 92d regiments, stood in column, Sir Denis Pack at its head, waiting impatiently for the 42d, the commanding-officer of which was chidden severely by Sir Denis for being so dilatory. We took our place in the column, and the whole marched off to the strains of martial music, and amidst the shouts of the surrounding multitude. As we entered the forest of Soignes, our stream of ranks following ranks, in successive sections, moved on in silent but speedy course, like some river confined between two equal banks.
“The forest is of immense extent, and we continued to move on under its welcome shade until we came to a small hamlet, or auberge, imbosomed in the wood to the right of the road. Here we turned to our left, halted, and were in the act of lighting fires, on purpose to set about cooking. We were flattering ourselves that we were to rest there until next day, for whatever reports had reached the ears of our commanders, no alarm had yet rung on ours. Some were stretched under the shade to rest; others sat in groups draining the cup, and we always loved a large one, and it was now almost emptied of three days’ allowance[336] of spirits, a greater quantity than was usually served at once to us on a campaign; others were busily occupied in bringing water and preparing the camp-kettles, for we were of the opinion, as I have already said, that we were to halt there for the day. But, ‘hark! a gun!’ one exclaims; every ear is set to catch the sound, and every mouth seems half opened, as if to supersede the faithless ear that doubts of hearing. Again another and another feebly floats through the forest. Every ear now catches the sound, and every man grasps his musket. No pensive looks are seen; our generals’ weather-beaten, war-worn countenances are all well known to the old soldiers, and no throb of fear palpitates in a single breast; all are again ready in column, and again we tread the wood-lined road.
“The distant report of the guns becomes more loud, and our march is urged on with greater speed. We pass through Waterloo, and leave behind the bright fields of Wellington’s fame,—our army’s future glory and England’s pride. Quatre Bras appears in view; the frightened peasantry come running breathless and panting along the way. We move off to the left of the road, behind a gently rising eminence; form column of companies, regardless of the growing crop, and ascend the rising ground: a beautiful plain appears in view, surrounded with belts of wood, and the main road from Brussels runs through it. We now descend to the plain by an echelon movement towards our right, halted on the road (from which we had lately diverged to the left), formed in line, fronting a bank on the right side, whilst the other regiments took up their position to right and left, as directed by our general. A luxuriant crop of grain hid from our view the contending skirmishers beyond, and presented a considerable obstacle to our advance. We were in the act of lying down by the side of the road, in our usual careless manner, as we were wont when enjoying a rest on the line of march, some throwing back their heads on their knapsacks, intending to take a sleep, when General Pack came galloping up, and chid the colonel for not having the bayonets fixed. This roused our attention, and the bayonets were instantly on the pieces.
“Our pieces were loaded, and perhaps never did a regiment in the field seem so short taken. We had the name of a crack corps, but certainly it was not then in that state of discipline which it could justly boast of a few years afterwards. Yet notwithstanding this disadvantage, none could be animated with a fitter feeling for the work before us than prevailed at that moment.
“We were all ready and in line,—‘Forward!’ was the word of command, and forward we hastened, though we saw no enemy in front. The stalks of the rye, like the reeds that grow on the margin of some swamp, opposed our advance; the tops were up to our bonnets, and we strode and groped our way through as fast as we could. By the time we reached a field of clover on the other side, we were very much straggled; however, we united in line as fast as time and our speedy advance would permit. The Belgic skirmishers retired through our ranks, and in an instant we were on their victorious pursuers. Our sudden appearance seemed to paralyse their advance. The singular appearance of our dress, combined no doubt with our sudden debut, tended to stagger their resolution: we were on them, our pieces were loaded, and our bayonets glittered, impatient to drink their blood. Those who had so proudly driven the Belgians before them, turned now to fly, whilst our loud cheers made the fields echo to our wild hurrahs. France fled or fell before us, and we thought the field our own. We had not yet lost a man, for the victors seldom lose many, except in protracted hard-contested struggles: with one’s face to the enemy, he may shun the deadly thrust or stroke; it is the retreating soldier that destruction pursues.
“We drove on so fast that we almost appeared like a mob following the rout of some defeated faction. Marshal Ney, who commanded the enemy, observed our wild unguarded zeal, and ordered a regiment of lancers to bear down upon us. We saw their approach at a distance, as they issued from a wood, and took them for Brunswickers coming to cut up the flying infantry; and as cavalry on all occasions have the advantage of retreating foot, on a fair field, we were halted in order to let them take their way: they were approaching our right flank, from which our skirmishers were extended, and we were far from being in a formation fit to repel an attack, if intended, or to afford regular support to our friends if requiring our aid. I think we stood with too much confidence, gazing towards them as if they had been our friends, anticipating the gallant charge they would make on the flying foe, and we were making no preparative movement to receive them as enemies, further than the reloading of the muskets, until a German orderly dragoon galloped up, exclaiming, ‘Franchee! Franchee!’ and, wheeling about, galloped off. We instantly formed a rallying square; no time for particularity; every man’s piece was loaded, and our enemies approached at full charge; the feet of their horses seemed to tear up the ground. Our skirmishers having been impressed with the same opinion, that these were Brunswick cavalry, fell beneath their lances, and few escaped death or wounds; our brave colonel fell at this time, pierced through the chin until the point of the lance reached the brain. Captain (now major) Menzies fell, covered with wounds, and a momentary conflict took place over him; he was a powerful man, and, hand to hand, more than a match for six ordinary men. The grenadiers, whom he commanded, pressed round to save or avenge him, but fell beneath the enemy’s lances.
“Of all descriptions of cavalry, certainly the lancers seem the most formidable to infantry, as the lance can be projected with considerable precision, and with deadly effect, without bringing the horse to the point of the bayonet; and it was only by the rapid and well-directed fire of musketry that these formidable assailants were repulsed.