‘No, I won’t have any more. Where are you stationed?’
‘Oh, right in the forefront! Our 2nd and 3rd Battalions have been drafted to General Adam, and I believe are over there, on the right wing,’ replied Kincaid, with an airy gesture to the west. ‘But the rest of us are going to occupy a snug sandpit, and the knoll behind it, on the chaussée, opposite to La Haye Sainte. I’ve had a look at the position: we shall have our right resting on the chaussée and as far as I can see we ought to get the brunt of whatever the French mean to give us.’
‘Well, that’ll give you something to brag about,’ said the Colonel, handing over his empty pannikin. ‘Good luck to you, Johnny!’
At nine o’clock, the Duke rode from end to end of the position, inspecting the disposition of the troops and making final alterations. There being as yet no sign of the Prussians advancing from the east, two brigades of light cavalry, Sir Hussey Vivian’s hussars and Sir John Vandeleur’s dragoons, had been posted to guard the left flank until the Prussians should arrive to relieve them. On Vandeleur’s right, Prince Bernhard of Saxe-Weimar’s brigade of Nassau and Orange-Nassau troops held the advance posts of Papelotte and Ter La Haye. Behind him, Vincke’s and Best’s Hanoverians were ranged. Next came Pack’s Highlanders, a skeleton of the brigade which had marched out of Brussels on June 15th; and Kempt’s almost equally depleted 8th Brigade. These troops, with Vincke’s Landwehr battalions, made up the 5th Division under Sir Thomas Picton, and occupied the left centre of the line. In support, some way behind the line, on the downward slope of the ground to the rear, Sir William Ponsonby’s Union Brigade of English, Scots, and Irish dragoons was drawn up, with Ghigny’s brigade of light cavalry some little way behind them. The hollow road, at this point, dipped between steep banks, crowned on the northern side by straggling hedges which afforded cover for the division. On the southern slope of the bank, closing the interval between Pack’s right and Kempt’s left, was placed Count Bylandt’s brigade of Dutch-Belgians, in an uncomfortably exposed position, looking across the valley to the ridge occupied by the French. Kempt’s right lay in the angle formed by the chaussée and the hollow road from Wavre. The 1st Battalion of the 95th Rifles was attached to the brigade, and their light troops were posted in a sandpit almost opposite La Haye Sainte, and on the knoll behind it, considerably in advance of the line.
La Haye Sainte itself, situated three hundred yards south of the crossroad, abutted directly on to the chaussée and was occupied by the 2nd Light Battalion of Ompteda’s Germans, under Major Baring. Beyond its white walls and blue-tiled roof, the main Charleroi road descended into the valley, and rose again to where, on the southern ridge, the farm of La Belle Alliance could be seen from the Allied line.
The chaussée, cutting through the centre of the Allied line, separated Picton’s division from Sir Charles Alten’s, drawn up to the west of it. Colonel von Ompteda’s brigade of the King’s German Legion lay with its left against the chaussée, and with La Haye Sainte in its immediate front; next came Count Kielmansegg’s Hanoverian line battalions; and, west of them, where the hollow road began to curve southwards, was Sir Colin Halkett’s brigade of one Highland and three English regiments. From Halkett’s right, to where the Nivelles road crossed the hollow way, the ground was strongly held by Cooke’s division of British Guards occupying the high ground behind and overlooking the château of Hougoumont. Seven companies of the Coldstream, under Sir James Macdonnell, had been thrown into the château, and had been busy all night strengthening the fortifications; while the four light companies of the division, under Lord Saltoun, were spent forward as skirmishers into the wood and orchard.
In the triangle of ground formed by the junction, at Mont St Jean, of the two great highways from Charleroi and Nivelles, a number of cavalry brigades were massed behind the infantry, and out of sight of the enemy. In rear of Ompteda, and separated from the Union Brigade of heavy cavalry only by the chaussée, was Lord Edward Somerset’s heavy brigade of Household Cavalry: Life Guards, Dragoons and Blues, in magnificent array. Behind them, in reserve, was Baron Collaert’s Dutch-Belgic cavalry division, comprising a brigade of carabiniers, under General Trip; and a brigade of light cavalry under Baron van Merlen. Immediately to the rear of Kielmansegg were General Kruse’s Nassau troops, in reserve, with Colonel Arentschildt’s light dragoons and hussars of the legion supporting them; and, lying against the Nivelles road, considerably withdrawn from the front, was the Brunswick contingent. Upon the plateau behind the Guards’ division were posted Major-General Dörnberg’s light dragoons; a Hanoverian regiment known as the Cumberland Hussars; and Major-General Grant’s hussar brigade, which lay directly behind Byng’s Guards, against the Nivelles road, overlooking the ravine running north of Merbe Braine, and the plateau beyond.
On this plateau, drawn back en potence to guard the right flank of the line, was Lord Hill’s Second Army Corps. Of this corps, Sir Henry Clinton’s division occupied the ground nearest to the highway, Adam’s brigade being drawn up immediately to the west of it. The village of Merbe Braine, nestling to the north behind a belt of trees, was occupied by Hew Halkett’s brigade of Hanoverian militia, and Colonel Du Plat’s line battalions of the legion. Some way to the west, Baron Chassé’s Dutch-Belgic division was stationed round Braine-l’Alleud, Colonel Detmer’s brigade occupying the village itself and Count d’Aubremée’s brigade being posted to the south-west, round the farm of Vieux Foriez, as an observation corps
. Of General Colville’s 4th Division, eight miles away at Hal with Prince Frederick’s corps, only one brigade was present, Colonel Mitchell’s which was formed on the west of the Nivelles road, covering the avenue which led to the great north gate of Hougoumont.
Attached to the divisions and the cavalry brigades were brigades and troops of artillery, those in front line being placed in the intervals of the infantry brigades, and slightly in advance of them. Rogers’s brigade and Ross’s Chestnut Troop guarded the Charleroi chaussée; Whinyates was attached to the Union Brigade with his rockets; Gardiner was Vivian’s hussars; Stevenart’s heroic battery with Prince Bernhard’s Nassauers; Rettberg before Best; Byleveld with Count Bylandt’s brigade; while, west of the chaussée, in front of Alten’s and Cooke’s divisions, were ranged Cleeve’s and Kuhlmann’s German batteries, Bean’s, Webber-Smith’s, Ramsay’s and Bull’s brigades and troops, each with six guns, manned by eighty or more gunners and drivers, half a dozen bombardiers, and the usual complement of sergeants, corporals, farriers, and trumpeters. Each troops came up in sub-divisions, an impressive cavalcade with two hundred horses, and a train of forge carts, spare-wheel carriages and extra-ammunition wagons. Every horse was brought on to the field in the pink of condition, his flanks plumped out with plundered forage. A hard life, the artillery officer’s, for while, on the one hand, plundering was strictly forbidden by the Duke, on the other, the allowance of forage was insufficient to put the fat on the horses which his lordship demanded. ‘Either way you quake in your shoes,’ declared Captain Mercer bitterly. ‘Bring your troop on to the ground with your beasts a shade thinner than the next man’s, and that damned cold eye of the Duke’s will see the difference in a flash. You won’t be asked questions about it, and if you try to defend yourself you won’t be attended to. You’ll be judged out of hand as unfit for your command, and very likely removed from the Army as well. But if you plunder the poor foreigner’s fields, and he reports you to the Duke—whew!’
While the Duke, accompanied by his military secretary, his aides-de-camp, the Prince of Orange, Lord Uxbridge, the diplomatic corps, and their train, was inspecting his position, the French columns were mustering upon the opposite heights. The weather was clearing fast, the mist in the hollows curling away in wreaths; and occasionally a pale shaft of sunlight would pierce through the clouds for a moment or two. The ground, intersected by hedges of beech and hornbeam, was nearly all of it under cultivation, crops of rye, wheat, barley, oats and clover standing shoulder-high, with here and there a ploughed field showing dark between the stretches of waving grain.
The bulk of the French army had bivouacked about Genappe, but at nine o’clock, just as the Duke started to ride down his lines, the heads of the columns began to appear above the ridge to the south. Drums and trumpets were first heard, and then the music of the bands, playing a medley of martial tunes. Strains of the Marseillaise, mingled with Veillons au Salut de l’Empire, floated across the valley to the Allied lines. Four columns, destined to form the first line, came marching over the hill, and deployed in perfect order, just as seven others appeared descending the slope. From the Allied lines the whole magnificent spectacle was watched by thousands of pairs of eyes. Knowledgeable gentlemen exclaimed at intervals: ‘That’s Reille’s corps, moving off to their left! . . . that’s D’Erlon! . . . those are Kellermann’s cuirassiers!’
The mist still lay white in the valley, but beyond it, less than a mile distant, the ground was gradually becoming covered with dark masses of infantry. As the divisions deployed, the cavalry began to appear. Squadron after squadron of cuirassiers galloped over the brow of the hill, their steel breastplates and copper crests occasionally caught by the feeble rays of sunlight trying to pierce through the clouds. The slope was soon vivid with bright, shifting colours, as Chasseurs à Cheval, blazing with green and gold, giant Carabiniers in white, brass-casqued Dragoons, Hussars in every colour, Grenadiers à Cheval in imperial blue with bearskin shakos, and red Lancers with towering white plumes and swallow-tailed pennons fluttering on the ends of their lances, cantered into their positions.
It was an hour and a half before the movement which brought the French Army into six formidable lines, forming six double W’s, was completed, and during that time the Duke of Wellington was employed in inspecting his own position. Sir Thomas Picton, still in his frockcoat and round hat, grimly concealing even from his aides-de-camp that an ugly wound, roughly bandaged by his servant after Quatre-Bras, lay beneath his shabby coat, had also inspected it very early in the morning, and had told Sir John Colborne, of Adam’s brigade, that he considered it to be the most damnable place for fighting he had ever seen.
Lord Uxbridge, tall and handsome in his magnificent hussar dress, preferred the position to that of Quatre-Bras, but was fretted by the impossibility, owing to the suddenness of the order to advance on June 16th, of forming his cavalry into divisions; and by the circumstance of having been formed by the Duke, at the eleventh hour, that the Prince of Orange desired him to take over the command of all the Dutch-Belgic cavalry. Uxbridge accepted the charge, but was forced to observe that he thought it unfortunate that he should have had no opportunity of making himself acquainted with any of the officers, or their regiments. He was anxiously awaiting the arrival of the Prussian corps to relieve Vivian’s and Vandeleur’s much needed brigades on the left flank, and more than once adverted to its non-appearance. The Duke, whose irritability fell away from him the moment he set foot on a battlefield, replied calmly that they would be up presently: the roads were in a bad state, which would account for their delay.
Baron Müffling, knowing the Prussian chief of staff’s mistrust of the Duke, was also anxious, and had already despatched one of his Jägers to try to get news of Bülow’s advance. He knew that the Duke had placed the weakened 5th Division on the left centre in the expectation of its being immediately strengthened by Prussian infantry: and having by this time identified himself far more with the British than with the Prussian Army, Bülow’s delay caused him a good deal of inward perturbation. Being a sensible man, he refused to permit his anxiety to oppress him, but fixed his mind instead on the problems immediately before him. He rode beside the Duke, acquainting himself with the disposition of the Allied troops, and occasionally proffering a suggestion. When he went with him into the château of Hougoumont, he felt considerable doubts of the possibility of the post’s being held by a mere detachment of British Guards. But the Duke seemed perfectly satisfied. He rode into the courtyard through the great north gate, and was met by Lieutenant-Colonel Sir James Macdonnell, a huge Highlander with narrowed, humorous eyes, a square jowl, and the frame of an ox, whom he greeted in a cheerful tone, and with marked friendliness. Macdonnell took him round the fortifications, showing him the work which the garrison had been engaged on during the night. The brick walls of the garden had been pierced for loopholes; wooden platforms erected to enable a second firing line to shoot over the walls; and flagstones, timbers, and broken wagons used as barricades to the various entrances. The Duke gave the whole a hasty survey, and, as he prepared to mount his horse again, nodded to Müffling, and said: ‘They call me a Sepoy General. Well! Napoleon shall see today how a Sepoy General can defend a position!’
Müffling bowed, but thought the chances of holding the château so small that he felt obliged to express his doubts. ‘It is not, in my opinion, sir, a strong post. I confess, I find it hard to believe that it can be held against a determined assault.’
The Duke swinging himself into the saddle, gave a short laugh, and pointed at the impassive Highlander. ‘Ah! You do not know Macdonnell!’ he said.
Those of his staff who stood near him laughed; the Duke raised two fingers to his hat, and rode off.
The Baron caught him up on the avenue leading to the Nivelles road, and began to urge the propriety of strengthening the post. His trained eye had instantly perceived that it was of paramount importance, for the possession of it by the French would enable them to enfilade the Allied lines from its shelter. ‘Even supposing that the garrison should be able to hold it against assault, Duke, how will it be if the enemy advances up the Nivelles road?’ he argued.
‘We shall see,’ responded his lordship. ‘Let us take a look at the ground.’
An inspection of the Nivelles road, and the country to the south of it, resulted in his lordship’s drawing in his right wing a little, raising a battery to swept the road, and posting some infantry in the rear. Several aides-de-camp went galloping off with brief messages scrawled on leaves torn from his lordship’s pocketbook, and the Duke turned his attention to the wood to the south of the château, which was occupied by Saltoun’s light companies of the Guards. His lordship altered this arrangement, withdrawing the Guards into the garden and orchard, and desiring the Prince of Orange to send orders to Prince Bernhard to despatch a battalion of his Nassau troops to occupy the wood. Colonel Audley was sent at the same time to bring up a detachment of Hanoverians, and rode off in a spatter of mud kicked up by his horse’s hooves.
Upon his return to the Duke, who had moved towards the centre of the position, he passed by the 1st Guards, and caught a glimpse of Lord Harry Alastair, looking rather tired, but apparently in good spirits. He called a greeting to him, and Lord Harry came up, and stood for a moment with his hand on the Colonel’s saddlebow. ‘Enjoying yourself Harry?’ asked Audley.
‘Lord, yes! You know we were engaged at Quatre-Bras, don’t you? By Jove, there was never anything like it, was there? If only poor Hay—but never mind that!’ he added hastily, blinking his sandy lashes. ‘It’s just that he was rather a friend of mine. I say, though, what do you think? I’m damned if William Lennox didn’t present himself for duty this morning! Nothing of him to be seen for bandages, and of course General Maitland sent him packing. He’s just gone off, he and his father. Devilish sportsmanlike of him to come, I thought!’ He detained the Colonel a moment longer, saying: ‘Have you seen anything of George, s
ir? They say the Life Guards were engaged at Genappe yesterday.’
‘Yes, I saw George in the thick of it, but he came out with nothing but a scratch or two!’
‘Oh, good! Give him my love, if you should happen to run into him at any time, and tell him I’m in famous shape. Goodbye! the best of luck, Charles!’
‘Thanks: the same to you!’ said the Colonel, and waved and rode on.
By ten o’clock, the Duke had completed his inspection, but the French Army was still deploying on the opposite heights, and guns, their wheels up to the naves in mud, were being dragged into position along the ridge. A little before eleven o’clock, a Prussian galopin arrived with a despatch for General Müffling, who had only a few minutes before rejoined the Duke, after making an examination of the ground beyond Papelotte, on the left wing. He had been driven back by a French patrol coming up from the village of Plancenoit, to the south, but not before he had satisfied himself that a Prussian advance by the plateau of St Lambert would not only be possible but extremely beneficial. He wrote down his views, read them to the Duke, who said, in his decided way: ‘I quite agree!’ and was in the act of sending an aide-de-camp to Wavre, with the despatch, when the Prussian galopin found him.
The despatch he had brought was from Marshal Blücher, and was dated 9.30 am from Wavre. ‘Your Excellency will assure the Duke of Wellington from me,’ wrote the Marshal Prince, ‘that, ill as I am, I shall place myself at the head of my troops, and attack the right of the French, in case they undertake anything against him.’