The Battle of Waterloo: Europe in the Balance (14 page)

Now was the time for the French heavy cavalry. Their task was to surge through the gap created by d’Erlon’s skilful infantry attack to fan out and smash Wellington’s troops from the rear. However, from where they were – to the right rear of the French infantry – the cuirassiers could not see what was happening due to the smoke and the lie of the land. Napoleon could see, and sent a galloper forward to tell Brigadier François Wathiez to charge forward and destroy Wellington.

Also able to see what was happening, but a good deal closer to the action, was the earl of Uxbridge. He hurriedly ordered Lord Edward Somerset, who commanded the elite heavy cavalry Household Brigade, to prepare to charge, then spurred over to Sir William Ponsonby of the Union Brigade to give him the same order, backed by the instruction to follow Somerset as soon as his men moved off. Galloping back to Somerset, Uxbridge hurriedly surveyed the scene. He knew that if he got into the gap before the French heavy cavalry he would be able to catch the French infantry as they were redeploying. If not, then the battle would be lost. Waving his sabre he gave the order to charge.

Chapter 8
 
‘Galloping at Everything’
 

Waterloo speaking about British cavalry after the Battle of Maguilla in 1812. The full quote is ‘Our officers of cavalry have acquired the trick of galloping at everything. They never consider the situation, never think of manoeuvring before an enemy, and never keep back or provide for a reserve’
 

First of the British heavy cavalry to move were the Life Guards, led by Uxbridge himself, with the 1st Dragoon Guards to their left and the Horse Guards behind in support. Spurring to a trot, then a canter and gallop, this force of more than 1,000 large men on large horses poured through the spaces in the line held by the Prince of Orange to the west of the main road to Brussels.

Leaping over the hedges to their front, the tide of rushing horsemen crashed into the small group of cuirassiers who had just scattered the Hanoverians sent forward by the Prince of Orange. Disorganized by their own success, the French were thrown aside. Some fell over the steep bank where the Brussels Road cut through the rise of the ridge and tumbled down – men and horses lost their lives. The fight between the two sets of elite heavy cavalrymen provided a highpoint in the cavalry action.

The Horse Guards and Dragoon Guards continued on down the slope west of La Haye Sainte. Brushing aside other French cavalry they reached the infantry still trying to smash a way into the courtyard. They, too, were thrown back by the triumphant heavy horsemen. Somerset slowly got his men under control. Having secured the approaches to La Haye Sainte and made sure that Baring and his men were safe, Somerset led his regiments back up the slope.

They had not got halfway up the slope, when Somerset saw more French horsemen. Charging again, Somerset drove into two brigades of cuirassiers and took them utterly by surprise. The French scattered and fled. Again Somerset got his men in hand and returned to where he had started.

Uxbridge, meanwhile, had wheeled the Life Guards to their left. He led them in a spirited charge across the face of the ridge north of La Haye Sainte to crash into the flank of the French infantry of Quiot. The sudden charge slammed into the French men exchanging fire with the British infantry along the hedges. An officer of the British infantry who had been taking heavy casualties later recorded the sudden and unexpected impact of Uxbridge and his men:

‘The infantry to our front gave way, followed by the Life Guards who were cutting away in all directions. Hundreds of the infantry threw themselves down and pretended to be dead while the cavalry galloped over them, and then they got up and ran away.’

The final act in the dramatic assault on Wellington’s centre by the vast French infantry columns led by D’Erlon. The Scots Greys, having smashed through the infantry, went too far down the hill and found themselves exposed to a flank attack by French lancers while their path was blocked by cuirassiers.

Uxbridge reformed his men in time to see another French brigade of infantry coming up the hill out of the smoke. Wheeling almost as calmly as if on parade, Uxbridge charged again, causing the French infantry to turn and run back down the slope. There was then some confusion as the British infantry came running down the slope with bayonets fixed. In the smoke and disorder the British officers mistook the blue French uniforms for blue Dutch uniforms. The chase was called off, allowing far more Frenchmen to escape than would otherwise have been the case.

While all this was taking place, Ponsonby had seen the Household Brigade start forward and had ordered his trumpeter to sound the charge. On his right were the Royal Dragoon Guards, in his centre came the Inniskilling Dragoons and on his left the Scots Greys. It was the English, Irish and Scottish nationalities of the regiments that gave the unit its name – the Union Brigade.

The Scots Greys on the left had been sheltering from the cannon fire in a dip in the ground. As they spurred up the slope out of the dip to reach the crest of the ridge they ran headlong into the lead units of Marcognet’s division. To the Frenchmen it seemed as if the huge men on grey horses had erupted straight out of the earth. There was no time for the French to get into square, nor even to see what was happening before the Greys were upon them.

One French officer recorded how he had been intent on organizing his men to fire at the disintegrating British infantry when:

‘I turned to push one of my men into position when I was amazed to see him fall dead at my feet from a sabre slash. I turned round instantly to see British cavalry forcing their way into our formation and hacking us to pieces.’

So dense was the French column that the Scots Greys were slowed to a walk as they butchered their way through. Seeing the change of fortunes, the scattered men of 92nd turned and – entirely without orders – charged at the French with their bayonets fixed. The carnage was frightful.

Eagle of the Empire

As the killing proceeded, Sergeant Charles Ewart had just killed a French officer when he realized that he was next to a French flag. At this date the capture of a flag was an achievement of great honour, and the loss of one a great disgrace. This particular flag was no ordinary banner, but an Eagle of the Empire. When he became emperor in 1805, Napoleon had presented each regiment in the French army with a gilded bronze eagle mounted on a pole, to which was attached a French flag. Many of these had been destroyed by Louis XVIII, but Napoleon made a point of having new ones made and issued to the regiments in time for the campaign of 1815.

Ewart grabbed the flag and yanked it, causing the man who held it to turn on him. Using his height on his horse and enormous physical strength, Ewart unbalanced the Frenchman, then hacked him down with his sabre. Another Frenchman at once attacked Ewart, but he, too, was killed. A wounded Frenchman on the ground then shot his musket at Ewart, but missed. Ewart then rode back to the ridge to report his achievement to an officer.

The Inniskillings and Royals slammed head on into Donzelot’s men who had scattered the Dutch. One squadron of the Royals were unable to get through the hedges, and had to stop, move to the left and reform before continuing their charge. They were therefore some distance behind their comrades.

The rest of the Royals and Inniskillings crashed into the French infantry, bursting open their formation and doing as much damage as the Greys had done. Captain Kennedy of the Royals reported what happened next:

‘I did not see the eagle and colour (for there were two colours, but only one with an eagle) until we had been probably five or six minutes engaged. It must, I should think, have been originally about the centre of the column, and got uncovered from the change of direction. When I first saw it, it was perhaps about forty yards to my left and a little in my front. The officer who carried it and his companions were moving in the direction, with their backs towards me, and endeavouring to force their way into the crowd. I gave the order to my squadron, “Right shoulders forward, attack the colour”, leading direct on the point myself. On reaching it, I ran my sword into the officer’s right side a little above his hip joint. He was a little to my left side, and he fell to that side with the eagle across my horse’s head. I tried to catch it with my left hand, but could only touch the fringe of the flag, and it is probable it would have fallen to the ground, had it not been prevented by the neck of Corporal Styles’ horse, who came up close to my left at the instant, and against which it fell. Corporal Styles was Standard Coverer; his post was immediately behind me, and his duty to follow wherever I led. When I first saw the eagle I gave the order “Right shoulders forward, attack the colour”, and on running the officer through the body I called out twice together “Secure the colour, secure the colour, it belongs to me.” This order was addressed to some men close to me, of whom Corporal Styles was one. On taking up the eagle, I endeavoured to break the eagle from the pole with the intention of putting it into the breast of my coat; but I could not break it. Corporal Styles said “Pray, sir, do not break it,” on which I replied “Very well, carry it to the rear as fast as you can, it belongs to me.’’’

Having hacked their way through Marcognet’s men the Scots Greys careered on down the slope. Seeing them come, a reserve French brigade commanded by Comte Pierre Durutte formed square. The Greys made little impression, but rode past as the French fired and emptied several saddles.

Moments later the squadron of the Royals that had been delayed came rampaging down the hill and struck Durutte’s square before his men had time to reload their muskets. They cut their way into the square, the men of which promptly turned and fled with the vengeful horsemen killing anyone they could reach.

Ponsonby was now trying to rally his men. His regiments had come farther down the slope than those of Somerset and were considerably more disordered from having hacked their way through dense infantry formations. It was then that the heavy cavalry sent forward by Napoleon to exploit d’Erlon’s success arrived on the scene. Cheated of their expected victory, the cuirassiers fell vengefully on the exhausted British cavalry. Another French cavalry unit, the lancers of the Imperial Guard, had been stationed on the far right near Papelotte and the ravine of the Smohain stream. Their commander saw the cuirassiers attacking the tired British cavalry and led his lancers to join in.

Ponsonby was cut down by a lancer when his heavy horse got stuck in a muddy ploughed field, and hundreds of his men were similarly killed by the lancers and cuirassiers. Baron Gighny, leader of the Dutch light cavalry, spurred forward with his two regiments to join the fray, followed by Sir John Vandeleur with three regiments of British light cavalry.

The arrival of the British and Dutch light cavalry decided the issue and the French withdrew. The opening phase of the battle was over by about 3 pm. D’Erlon’s massive and innovative attack had come very close to success. The French had opened up a clear hole in the centre of Wellington’s army, but the charge of the British heavy cavalry had thrown them back.

Bruising encounter

The casualties on both sides had been heavy. Of d’Erlon’s infantry about 2,000 were dead and 3,000 taken prisoner, with hundreds more wounded. Some units had taken particularly heavy casualties, and even those that had escaped relatively lightly were disorganized and scattered. It would take some time before d’Erlon had any infantry regiments able to fight with any real cohesion.

The British cavalry had started their charge with some 2,500 men and horses. More than half of these had been killed or wounded. The Scots Greys suffered especially badly. They had started with 416 men and horses: now 228 horses were dead along with 104 men, while another 97 were so badly wounded that they had to leave the field for hospital treatment. Among the British cavalry regiments there now followed a reorganization, as wounded men gave up their horses to unwounded, but horseless comrades. Like d’Erlon’s infantry it would be some time before they were fit to fight again.