Memoirs of the Life of Sir Walter Scott, Bart.
Walter Scott to the Duke of Buccleugh, [August 1815]
“My dear Lord Duke,
“I promised to let you hear of my wanderings,
however unimportant; and have now the pleasure of informing your Grace, that I
am at this present time an inhabitant of the Premier Hotel de Cambrai, after
having been about a week upon the Continent. We landed at Helvoet, and
proceeded to Brussels, by Ber-
* Mechlin—the Highlander gave it the familiar
pronunciation of a Scotch village, Mauchline, celebrated in many of
Burns’s poems. † See Major
Gordon’s Personal Memoirs, (1830), vol. ii.
pp. 325-338. |
| LETTER ON THE BATTLE OF WATERLOO. | 357 |
gen-op-Zoom and
Antwerp, both of which are very strongly fortified. The ravages of war are
little remarked in a country so rich by nature; but every thing seems at
present stationary, or rather retrograde, where capital is required. The
chateaux are deserted, and going to decay; no new houses are built, and those
of older date are passing rapidly into the possession of a class inferior to
those for whom we must suppose them to have been built. Even the old
gentlewoman of Babylon has lost much of her splendour, and her robes and pomp
are of a description far subordinate to the costume of her more magnificent
days. The dresses of the priests were worn and shabby, both at Antwerp and
Brussels, and reminded me of the decayed wardrobe of a bankrupt theatre: yet,
though the gentry and priesthood have suffered, the eternal bounty of nature
has protected the lower ranks against much distress. The unexampled fertility
of the soil gives them all, and more than they want; and could they but sell
the grain which they raise in the Netherlands, nothing else would be wanting to
render them the richest people (common people, that is to say) in the world.
“On Wednesday last, I rode over the field of
Waterloo, now for ever consecrated to immortality. The more ghastly tokens of
the carnage are now removed, the bodies both of men and horses being either
burned or buried; but all the ground is still torn with the shot and shells,
and covered with cartridges, old hats, and shoes, and various relics of the
fray which the peasants have not thought worth removing. Besides, at Waterloo
and all the hamlets in the vicinage, there is a mart established for cuirasses;
for the eagles worn by the imperial guard on their caps; for casques, swords,
carabines, and similar articles. I have bought two handsome cuirasses, and
intend them, one for Bowhill, and one for
358 | LIFE OF SIR WALTER SCOTT. | |
Abbotsford, if
I can get them safe over, which Major Pryse
Gordon has promised to manage for me. I have also, for your
Grace, one of the little memorandum-books, which I picked up on the field, in
which every French soldier was obliged to enter his receipts and expenditure,
his services, and even his punishments. The field was covered with fragments of
these records. I also got a good MS. collection of French songs, probably the
work of some young officer, and a croix of the Legion of Honour. I enclose,
under another cover, a sketch of the battle, made at Brussels. It is not, I
understand, strictly accurate; but sufficiently so to give a good notion of
what took place. In fact, it would require twenty separate plans to give an
idea of the battle at its various stages. The front, upon which the armies
engaged, does not exceed a long mile. Our line, indeed, originally extended
half a-mile farther towards the village of Brain-la-Leude; but as the French
indicated no disposition to attack in that direction, the troops which occupied
this space were gradually concentrated by Lord
Wellington, and made to advance till they had reached
Hougomont—a sort of chateau, with a garden and wood attached to it, which was
powerfully and effectually maintained by the Guards during the action. This
place was particularly interesting. It was a quiet-looking gentleman’s
house, which had been burnt by the French shells. The defenders, burnt out of
the house itself, betook themselves to the little garden, where, breaking
loop-holes through the brick walls, they kept up a most destructive fire on the
assailants, who had possessed themselves of a little wood which surrounds the
villa on one side. In this spot vast numbers had fallen; and, being hastily
buried, the smell is most offensive at this moment. Indeed, I felt the same
annoyance in many parts of the field; and, did I live near the spot, I should be anxious about
the diseases which this steaming carnage might occasion. The rest of the
ground, excepting this chateau, and a farm-house called La Hay Sainte, early
taken, and long held, by the French, because it was too close under the brow of
the descent on which our artillery was placed to admit of the pieces being
depressed so as to play into it, the rest of the ground, I say, is quite open,
and lies between two ridges, one of which (Mont St Jean) was constantly
occupied by the English; the other, upon which is the farm of La Belle
Alliance, was the position of the French. The slopes between are gentle and
varied; the ground every where practicable for cavalry, as was well experienced
on that memorable day. The cuirassiers, despite their arms of proof, were quite
inferior to our heavy dragoons. The meeting of the two bodies occasioned a
noise, not unaptly compared to the tinkering and hammering of a smith’s
shop. Generally the cuirassiers came on stooping their heads very low, and
giving point; the British frequently struck away their casques while they were
in this position, and then laid at the bare head. Officers and soldiers all
fought, hand to hand, without distinction; and many of the former owed their
life to dexterity at their weapon, and personal strength of body.
Shaw, the milling Life-Guards’ man, whom your
Grace may remember among the champions of The Fancy, maintained the honour of
the fist, and killed or disabled upwards of twenty Frenchmen, with his single
arm, until he was killed by the assault of numbers. At one place, where there
is a precipitous sand or gravel pit, the heavy English cavalry drove many of
the cuirassiers over pell-mell, and followed over themselves like fox-hunters.
The conduct of the infantry and artillery was equally, or, if possible, more
distinguished, and it was all fully necessary; for, besides that 360 | LIFE OF SIR WALTER SCOTT. | |
our army was much outnumbered, a great part of the
sum-total were foreigners. Of these, the Brunswickers and Hanoverians behaved
very well; the Belgians but sorrily enough. On one occasion, when a Belgic
regiment fairly ran off, Lord Wellington
rode up to them, and said, ‘My lads, you must be a little blown; come,
do take your breath for a moment, and then we’ll go back, and try if
we can do a little better;’ and he actually carried them back to
the charge. He was, indeed, upon that day, every where, and the soul of every
thing; nor could less than his personal endeavours have supported the spirits
of the men through a contest so long, so desperate, and so unequal. At his last
attack, Buonaparte brought up 15,000 of
his Guard, who had never drawn trigger during the day. It was upon their
failure that his hopes abandoned him.
“I spoke long with a shrewd Flemish peasant, called
John De Costar, whom he had seized
upon as his guide, and who remained beside him the whole day, and afterwards
accompanied him in his flight as far as Charleroi. Your Grace may be sure that
I interrogated Mynheer very closely about what he heard and saw. He guided me
to the spot where Buonaparte remained
during the latter part of the action. It was in the highway from Brussels to
Charleroi, where it runs between two high banks, on each of which was a French
battery. He was pretty well sheltered from the English fire; and, though many
bullets flew over his head, neither he nor any of his suite were touched. His
other stations, during that day, were still more remote from all danger. The
story of his having an observatory erected for him is a mistake. There is such
a thing, and he repaired to it during the action; but it was built or erected
some months before, for the purpose of a trigonometrical survey of the country,
by
the King of the Netherlands. Bony’s last
position was nearly fronting a tree, where the Duke of
Wellington was stationed; there was not more than a quarter of a
mile between them; but Bony was well sheltered, and the
Duke so much exposed, that the tree is barked in several places by the
cannon-balls levelled at him. As for Bony, De
Costar says he was very cool during the whole day, and even gay.
As the cannon-balls flew over them, De Costar ducked; at
which the Emperor laughed, and told him they would hit him all the same. At
length, about the time he made his grand and last effort, the fire of the
Prussian artillery was heard upon his right, and the heads of their columns
became visible pressing out of the woods. Aid-de-camp after aid-de-camp came
with the tidings of their advance, to which Bony only
replied, attendez, attendez un
instant, until he saw his troops, fantassins et cavaliers, return in disorder from the
attack. He then observed hastily to a general beside him, je crois qu’ils sont
mélés. The person to whom he spoke, hastily raised the
spyglass to his eye; but Bony, whom the first glance had
satisfied of their total discomfiture, bent his face to the ground, and shook
his head twice, his complexion being then as pale as death. The general then
said something, to which Buonaparte answered, c’est trop tard sauvons nous. Just
at that moment, the allied troops, cavalry and infantry, appeared in full
advance on all hands; and the Prussians, operating upon the right flank of the
French, were rapidly gaining their rear. Bony, therefore,
was compelled to abandon the high-road, which, besides, was choked with dead,
with baggage, and with cannon; and, gaining the open country, kept at full
gallop, until he gained, like Johnnie
Cope, the van of the flying army. The marshals followed his
example; and it was the most complete sauve qui
peut that can well be imagined. Nevertheless, the 362 | LIFE OF SIR WALTER SCOTT. | |
prisoners who were brought into Brussels maintained
their national impudence, and boldly avowed their intention of sacking the city
with every sort of severity. At the same time they had friends there. One man
of rank and wealth went over to Bony during the action,
and I saw his hotel converted into an hospital for wounded soldiers. It
occupied one-half of one of the sides of the Place Royale, a noble square,
which your Grace has probably seen. But, in general, the inhabitants of
Brussels were very differently disposed; and their benevolence to our poor
wounded fellows was unbounded. The difficulty was to prevent them from killing
their guests with kindness, by giving them butcher’s meat and wine during
their fever. As I cannot put my letter into post until we get to Paris, I shall
continue it as we get along.
“12th August, Roye, in
Picardy.—I imagine your Grace about this time to be tolerably well
fagged with a hard day on the moors. If the weather has been as propitious as
with us, it must be delightful. The country through which we have travelled is
most uncommonly fertile, and skirted with beautiful woods; but its present
political situation is so very uncommon, that I would give the world your Grace
had come over for a fortnight. France may be considered as neither at peace or
war. Valenciennes, for example, is in a state of blockade; we passed through
the posts of the allies, all in the utmost state of vigilance, with patroles of
cavalry, and videttes of infantry, up to the very gates, and two or three
batteries were manned and mounted. The French troops were equally vigilant at
the gates, yet made no objections to our passing through the town. Most of them
had the white cockade, but looked very sulky, and were in obvious disorder and
confusion. They had not yet made their terms with the King, nor accepted a
com-
| LETTER TO THE DUKE OF BUCCLEUCH—AUG. 1815. | 363 |
mander appointed by him; but as they obviously feel their party desperate,
the soldiers are running from the officers, and the officers from the soldiers.
In fact, the multiplied hosts which pour into this country, exhibiting all the
various dresses and forms of war which can be imagined, must necessarily render
resistance impracticable. Yet, like Satan,
these fellows retain the unconquered propensity to defiance, even in the midst
of defeat and despair. This morning we passed a great number of the disbanded
garrison of Conde, and they were the most horrid-looking cut-throats I ever
saw, extremely disposed to be very insolent, and only repressed by the
consciousness that all the villages and towns around are occupied by the
allies. They began by crying to us, in an ironical tone, Vive le Roi; then followed, sotto voce, Sacre B——, Mille diables, and
other graces of French eloquence. I felt very well pleased that we were armed,
and four in number; and still more so that it was daylight, for they seemed
most mischievous ruffians. As for the appearance of the country, it is,
notwithstanding a fine harvest, most melancholy. The windows of all the
detached houses on the road are uniformly shut up; and you see few people,
excepting the peasants who are employed in driving the contributions to
maintain the armies. The towns are little better, having for the most part been
partially injured by shells or by storm, as was the case both of Cambrai and
Peronne. The men look very sulky; and if you speak three words to a woman, she
is sure to fall a-crying. In short, the politesse and good humour of this people have fled with
the annihilation of their self-conceit; and they look on you as if they thought
you were laughing at them, or come to enjoy the triumph of our arms over
theirs. Postmasters and landlords are all the same, and hardly to be
propitiated even by English money, 364 | LIFE OF SIR WALTER SCOTT. | |
although they charge
us about three times as much as they durst do to their countryfolks. As for the
Prussians, a party of cavalry dined at our hotel at Mons, eat and drank of the
best the poor devils had left to give, called for their horses, and laughed in
the face of the landlord when he offered his bill, telling him they should pay
as they came back. The English, they say, have always paid honourably, and upon
these they indemnify themselves. It is impossible to marchander, for if you object, the poor landlady begins
to cry, and tells you she will accept whatever your
lordship pleases, but that she is almost ruined and bankrupt, &c.
&c. &c.
“This is a long stupid letter, but I will endeavour
to send a better from Paris. Ever your Grace’s truly obliged,
Robert Burns (1759-1796)
Scottish poet and song collector; author of
Poems, chiefly in the
Scottish Dialect (1786).
Sir John Cope (1690-1760)
The British commander defeated at Prestonpans in the 1745 Rebellion.
Jean Baptiste de Coster (d. 1824)
Napoleon's supposed guide at Waterloo; he later made a living conducting tourists at the
site.
Pryse Lockhart Gordon (1762-1845)
A military acquaintance of Walter Scott who encountered him while touring Waterloo in
1816. He published
A Companion to Italy (1823) and
Personal Memoirs (1830).
Emperor Napoleon I (1769-1821)
Military leader, First Consul (1799), and Emperor of the French (1804), after his
abdication he was exiled to Elba (1814); after his defeat at Waterloo he was exiled to St.
Helena (1815).
Richard Wellesley, first marquess Wellesley (1760-1842)
The son of Garret Wesley (1735-1781) and elder brother of the Duke of Wellington; he was
Whig MP, Governor-general of Bengal (1797-1805), Foreign Secretary (1809-12), and
Lord-lieutenant of Ireland (1821-28); he was created Marquess Wellesley in 1799.
William I, king of the Netherlands (1772-1843)
The Prince of Orange, who in 1815 had himself proclaimed the first king of the
Netherlands at the urging of the Congress of Vienna.