Waterloo Days: The narrative of an Englishwoman resident at Brussels in June 1815Eaton, Charlotte A. (Charlotte Anne)
History
Waterloo Days: The narrative of an Englishwoman resident at Brussels in June 1815
Eaton, Charlotte A. (Charlotte Anne)
Waterloo, Battle of, Waterloo, Belgium, 1815
In the mean time the Highlanders, regardless of their wounds, their
fatigues, their dangers, and their sufferings, kept throwing up their
Highland bonnets into the air, and continually vociferating,--"Boney's
beat! Boney's beat! hurrah! hurrah! Boney's beat!" Their tumultuous joy
attracted round them a number of old Flemish women, who were extremely
curious to know the cause of this uproar, and kept gabbling to the
soldiers in their own tongue. One of them, more eager than the rest,
seized one of the men by his coat, pulling at it, and making the most
ludicrous gestures imaginable to induce him to attend to her; while
the Highlander, quite forgetting in his transport that the old woman
did not understand Scotch, kept vociferating that "Boney was beat, and
rinning away till his ain country as fast as he could gang." At any
other time, the old Flemish woman, holding the soldier fast, shrugging
up her shoulders, and making these absurd grimaces, and the Highlander
roaring to her in broad Scotch would have presented a most laughable
scene--"Hout, ye auld gowk," cried the good-humoured soldier, "dinna
ye ken that Boney's beat--what, are ye deef?--dare say the wife--I say
Boney's beat, woman!" When the news was explained to the old women
they were in an ecstasy almost as great as that of the Highlanders
themselves, and the joy of the old valet was quite unbounded. These
poor men were on their way to the hospital, but they did not know which
way to go; they were ignorant of the language, and could not inquire.
I thought of sending the valet de place with them, who was extremely
willing to conduct "ces bons Ecossois," as he called them, but then I
could not easily have found my own way home; so the valet de place,
the soldiers, and I, all went to the hospital together. Our progress
was slow, for one of them was very lame, another had lost three of the
fingers of his right hand, and had a ball lodged in his shoulder. Some
of them were from the Highlands, and some from the Lowlands, and when
they found that I came from Scotland, and lived upon the Tweed, they
were quite delighted. One of them was from the Tweed as well as myself,
he said, "he cam' oot o' Peeblesshire."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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