Journal of the Waterloo campaign, vol. 1 (of 2) : $b kept throughout the campaign of 1815Mercer, Cavalié
History
Journal of the Waterloo campaign, vol. 1 (of 2) : $b kept throughout the campaign of 1815
Mercer, Cavalié
Mercer, Cavalié, 1783-1868 -- Diaries; Waterloo, Battle of, Waterloo, Belgium, 1815 -- Personal narratives, British
for though I did not choose to betray myself (as we spoke before the
men), yet I could not help thinking that our affairs _were_ rather
desperate, and that some unfortunate catastrophe was at hand. In this
case I made up my mind to spike my guns and retreat over the fields,
draught-horses and all, in the best manner I could, steering well
from the highroad and general line of retreat.
We were still talking on this subject, when suddenly a dark mass of
cavalry appeared for an instant on the main ridge, and then came
sweeping down the slope in swarms, reminding me of an enormous surf
bursting over the prostrate hull of a stranded vessel, and then
running, hissing and foaming, up the beach. The hollow space became
in a twinkling covered with horsemen, crossing, turning, and riding
about in all directions, apparently without any object. Sometimes
they came pretty near us, then would retire a little. There were
lancers amongst them, hussars, and dragoons--it was a complete
_mêlée_. On the main ridge no squares were to be seen; the only
objects were a few guns standing in a confused manner, with muzzles
in the air, and not one artilleryman. After caracoling about for a
few minutes, the crowd began to separate and draw together in small
bodies, which continually increased; and now we really apprehended
being overwhelmed, as the first line had apparently been. For a
moment an awful silence pervaded that part of the position to which
we anxiously turned our eyes. “I fear all is over,” said Colonel
Gould, who still remained by me. The thing seemed but too likely,
and this time I could not withhold my assent to his remark, for it
did indeed appear so. Meantime the 14th, springing from the earth,
had formed their square, whilst we, throwing back the guns of our
right and left divisions, stood waiting in momentary expectation of
being enveloped and attacked. Still they lingered in the hollow,
when suddenly loud and repeated shouts (not English hurrahs) drew
our attention to the other side. There we saw two dense columns of
infantry pushing forward at a quick pace towards us, crossing the
fields, as if they had come from Merke Braine. Every one, both of
the 14th and ourselves, pronounced them French, yet still we delayed
opening fire on them. Shouting, yelling, and singing, on they came,
right for us; and being now not above 800 or 1000 yards distant, it
seemed folly allowing them to come nearer unmolested. The commanding
officer of the 14th, to end our doubts, rode forward and endeavoured
to ascertain who they were, but soon returned, assuring us they were
French. The order was already given to fire, when, luckily, Colonel
Gould recognised them as Belgians. Meantime, whilst my attention was
occupied by these people, the cavalry had all vanished, nobody could
say how or where.
We breathed again. Such was the agitated state in which we were kept
in our second position. A third act was about to commence of a much
more stirring and active nature.
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