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
One interesting sufferer I had nearly forgotten. He was a
fine young man of the grenadiers à cheval, who had lain groaning
near us all night--indeed scarcely five paces from my bed; therefore
was the first person I visited as soon as daylight came. He was a
most interesting person--tall, handsome, and a perfect gentleman in
manners and speech; yet his costume was that of a private soldier.
We conversed with him some time, and were exceedingly pleased with
his mild and amiable address. Amongst other things he told us that
Marshal Ney had led the charges against us. In this, however (if
we understood him rightly), he must have been mistaken, since that
Marshal is an infantry general. Be that as it may, we all felt deeply
interested for our unfortunate prisoner, and did all in our power for
him, which consisted in kind words and sending two careful men to
lead him to the village--a most painful undertaking, for we now found
that, besides one ball in the forehead, he had received another in
his right thigh, which, together with his being barefooted, could not
but render his journey both tedious and painful.
I now began to feel somewhat the effects of my long fast in a most
unpleasant sense of weakness and an inordinate craving for food,
which there were no means of satisfying. My joy, then, may be
imagined when, returning to our bivouac, I found our people returned
from Lillois, and, better still, that they had brought with them a
quarter of veal, which they had found in a muddy ditch, of course in
appearance then filthy enough. What was this to a parcel of men who
had scarcely eaten a morsel for three days? In a trice it was cut
up, the mud having been scraped off with a sabre, a fire kindled and
fed with lance-shafts and musket-stocks; and old Quartermaster Hall,
undertaking the cooking, proceeded to fry the dirty lumps in the lid
of a camp-kettle. How we enjoyed the savoury smell! and, having made
ourselves seats of cuirasses,[25] piled upon each other, we soon
had that most agreeable of animal gratifications--the filling our
empty stomachs. Never was a meal more perfectly military, nor more
perfectly enjoyed.
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