The Laird's Luck and Other Fireside TalesQuiller-Couch, Arthur
General
The Laird's Luck and Other Fireside Tales
Quiller-Couch, Arthur
Napoleonic Wars, 1800-1815 -- Fiction; Short stories, English
It was not long in coming. Ney, finding that our artillery made poor
play against his, prepared to launch a column against us. Warned by a
cloud of skirmishers, our light companies leapt forward, chose their
shelter, and began a very pretty exchange of musketry. But this was
preliminary work only, and soon the head of a large French column
appeared on the slope to our right, driving the Brunswickers slowly
before it. It descended a little way, and suddenly broke into three or
four columns of attack. The mischief no sooner threatened than Picton
came galloping along our line and roaring that our division would
advance and engage with all speed. For a raw regiment like the Morays
this was no light test; but, supported by a veteran regiment on either
hand, they bore it admirably. Dropping the Gordons to protect the road
in case of mishap, the two brigades swung forward in the prettiest
style, their skirmishers running in and forming on either flank as
they advanced. Then for a while the work was hot; but, as will always
happen when column is boldly met by line, the French quickly had
enough of our enveloping fire, and wavered. A short charge with the
bayonet finished it, and drove them in confusion up the slope: nor had
I an easy task to resume a hold on my youngsters and restrain them
from pursuing too far. The brush had been sharp, but I had the
satisfaction of knowing that the Morays had behaved well. They also
knew it, and fell to jesting in high good-humour as General Pack
withdrew the brigade from the ground of its exploit and posted us in
line with the 42nd and 44th regiments on the left of the main road to
Charleroi.
To the right of the Charleroi road, and some way in advance of our
position, the Brunswickers were holding ground as best they could
under a hot and accurate artillery fire. Except for this, the battle
had come to a lull, when a second mass of the enemy began to move down
the slopes: a battalion in line heading two columns of infantry direct
upon the Brunswickers, while squadron after squadron of lancers
crowded down along the road into which by weight of numbers they must
be driven. The Duke of Brunswick, perceiving his peril, headed a
charge of his lancers upon the advancing infantry, but without the
least effect. His horsemen broke. He rode back and called on his
infantry to retire in good order. They also broke, and in the attempt
to rally them he fell mortally wounded.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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