sailors must strike their colours, and soldiers surrender when they have death for an enemy.—a court-martial.—shooting a soldier.—naval execution.—soldier’s burial.—funeral at sea.—battle of waterloo.—first attack.—second attack.—third attack.—defeat of buonaparte.—consequences of the battle of waterloo.—chelsea college.—greenwich hospital.—old england for ever!—conclusion.
“a word or two now, boys, on the battle of waterloo, for that must not be forgotten. many 328a comrade who fought with me in that battle, without a wound, has since been brought down by sickness to the grave.”
“neither soldiers nor sailors can hold out long when death attacks them.”
“when it comes to that the boldest tar must strike his colours, and the bravest soldier that ever mounted a breach surrender at discretion. lancers themselves are not sharp enough to resist their last enemy, nor can life-guardsmen parry the stroke of death.”
“sometimes soldiers are shot. please to tell us how they shoot them; it must be a sad sight!”
“sad indeed! so sad, that i hope and trust you will never witness it. in a soldier, whose eye should be bright with honour, and whose heart should despise a deed of meanness, for him to be paraded before his companions as an object of disgrace, and then, perhaps, shot by those who have fought and bled with him, and messed at the same table! it will hardly bear to be thought of; and the faster i hurry over the account of it the better. the culprit is tried, and fairly tried too, by a general court-martial, sworn to ‘do justice.’ no sentence of death can be given against him unless nine officers present agree therein. if condemned to die, he is taken to the ground, where the men are drawn up in a square, and marched round it. he then kneels on his coffin—his eyes are bandaged, and the few men whose melancholy duty 329it is to fire at him, aim at his heart. every thought of a soldier should be, honour bright by day and night. how sad to become a spectacle of shame and disgrace among his old companions.”
“are sailors ever sentenced to be shot?”
“no. culprits at sea are run up to the yard-arm. a naval execution is a solemn sight. on the fatal morn, there is an influence felt by the seamen, and if little is said about what is going on, you may read it in their faces. the crews of the different ships in harbour are turned up, and in the rigging and along the gangways, groups and lines of blue-jackets, may be seen. the boats of the fleet are manned, and, with a party of marines in each, are drawn up abreast the ship where the execution is about to take place. all this occurs early in the morning. at last comes the unhappy culprit. he mounts the platform, that stretches across the forecastle; a dead silence prevails; the sentence that has been recorded against the prisoner by the court-martial is read, as well as the articles of war under which he has been condemned; the signal-gun gives the fatal flash, and the unhappy man is run up to the fore-yard-arm.”
“it must be very solemn! but we hardly ever hear of a sailor being condemned to death.”
“not often. it is terrible to think of a blue-jacket, who ought to be famed for honour and honesty, dangling like a hanged dog at the yard-arm of a seventy-four.”
330“terrible indeed. please to tell us of a soldier’s burial.”
“those who have seen the funeral of a soldier, especially that of a cavalry officer, know it to be a solemn gathering; but i will not dwell upon it. the death-like sound of the muffled drum is withering to the heart; the mournful melody of wind-instruments, the slow and measured steps of the procession, the coffin where the dead man lies, the subdued appearance of the charger, mournfully accoutred, oppress the spirit, and the helmet and the sword, and gauntlets, tug at the spectators’ heartstrings. he must have a strong bosom who can hear the blast of the crape-bound trumpet, the roll of the muffled drum, and the three-fold volley over the soldier’s grave, without a sigh.”
“it must be very solemn, but not so sad as shooting a soldier, or hanging a sailor at the yard-arm.”
“the thought of death should lead a soldier to act humbly in his life. the tallest grenadier ought not to lift his head proudly above the lowest man in the regiment. but i have not yet told you anything of a sailor’s burial. when a seaman dies he is sewn up in his hammock, with a couple of shot fastened between his feet. as he lies upon a grating, with his comrades around him, the chaplain of the ship, or the captain, reads the burial service appointed for the dead at sea. he is then turned off the grating and is soon on his 331way to the bottom of the deep, sinking feet-foremost through the cold blue waters. but we are forgetting the battle of waterloo, and my time is almost up; if i do not tell you about it now i may not have another opportunity.”
“begin directly! it will never do to pass it over, such a famous battle as it was.”
“my account must be a very short one. i can fancy myself now on the spot. there is the chateau of hougomont! there the farm-house la haye sainte, and yonder are the heights of la belle alliance! under any circumstances a battle on an extended scale is an affair of absorbing interest, but when, as it were, the welfare of the civilized world trembles in the balance; when the sword is about to decide whether nations are to be liberated or fettered with adamantine chains; whether millions are to breathe the breath of freedom, or bow their necks beneath the iron yoke of an ambitious despot, well may a fervent prayer be offered up to the god of battles, that right may triumph, and that rapine and wrong may be humbled in the dust. the battle of waterloo was to wrench from napoleon buonaparte the sword of his might, or to place an iron sceptre in his hand wherewith to bruise the nations of the world at his pleasure. it pleased the god of armies that the proud should be effectually overthrown.”
“ay! buonaparte was humbled in that battle.”
“before the battle france was strong, but after 332it she was weak; her empire was overthrown at a blow. buonaparte and wellington, the two most celebrated generals in the world, met each other for the first time on the plains of waterloo. the shock was dreadful, but since then the sword has remained in its scabbard, peace has succeeded war, and the voice of nations has uttered a mighty cry against kingly aggression. ‘if there still exists,’ says one, ‘a passion for lawless aggrandizement, the grave that swallowed up the french empire is still open, and deep enough to show the perils of treading on its verge. the warning still is—waterloo!’”
“now for the battle! how many men had the duke of wellington? and how many had buonaparte? which began to fire first? and how many soldiers were killed?”
“patience! patience! my account will answer all these questions.”
“now for it, then! now for it!”
“‘i have these english now,’ said buonaparte, in the pride of his heart, before the battle, but his thoughts were of a very different kind afterwards. see! here is an account of the british and hanoverian army at waterloo, as formed in divisions and brigades on the 18th of june 1815. the cavalry were commanded by lieutenant-general the earl of uxbridge; the 1st brigade, by major-general lord edward somerset, k.c.b.; the 2nd by major-general sir william ponsonby, 333k.c.b.; the 3rd by major-general w. b. domberg; the 4th by major-general sir john o. vandeleur, k.c.b.; the 5th by major-general sir colquhoun grant, k.c.b.; the 6th by major-general sir hussey vivian, k.c.b., and the 7th by colonel sir frederic arenschildt, k.c.b.”
“what is the meaning of k.c.b.? there seems to be a great number of them that have k.c.b. at the end of their names.”
“the meaning of k.c.b. is knight commander of the order of the bath. it is a very high distinction; and military men are very anxious to attain it. the infantry were commanded by—the 1st division, major-general g. cooke; the 2nd division, lieutenant-general sir h. clinton, g.c.b.; the 3rd division, lieutenant-general baron alten; the 4th division, lieutenant-general hon. sir charles colville, k.c.b.; the 5th division, lieutenant-general sir thomas picton, k.c.b., and the 6th division, major-general j. lambert, colonel best, and major-general m’kenzie. the cavalry consisted of 8,883 men, the infantry of 29,622, and the artillery of 5,434, total 43,939.”
“more than forty-three thousand men. and how many were there on the side of the french?”
“the troops that i have mentioned were english and hanoverian, but the whole of the army under wellington amounted to about 75,000 men, and buonaparte’s army was of somewhere about the same force; but then, the french guards were looked 334upon as equal to double their number of common soldiers, being long accustomed to battle and conquest. wellington’s position was ably chosen, with the villages of mont st. jean and waterloo, and the forest of soignies, at his back.”
“what a deal of room the troops would take up?”
“the british front was a mile broad. skirmishing began between the english light troops and the french tirailleurs; sir george wood firing the first gun on the advancing columns of jerome buonaparte. the chateau of hougomont was the key of the english position, and jerome made a desperate attack upon it. the place was ably defended, and, first and last, not less than a thousand english, and nearly ten thousand french fell at hougomont. it was awful work, but the british bore it bravely.”
“ay, there were more french killed than there were english.”
“the first attack of the french not succeeding, they made a second: this was in the centre of the british line. the cannon roared like thunderclaps, and the french cuirassiers came on like a whirlwind; but for all that they were withstood by the british troops, who rolled back the bloody tide of war. for a time the french occupied a farm-house, called la haye sainte, but they were dislodged with shells and cannon-balls, suffering dreadfully. before this took place, however, they 335acted a cruel part. five hundred german riflemen defended la haye sainte until they had no ammunition left, and the place was set on fire. well, when the french got possession they gave no quarter: every man of the german rifle-corps was bayonetted. the english troops at last won the day. lord anglesey, the royal-greys, and the enniskilling, distinguished themselves. ‘when will we get at them!’ cried out the irish troops. brave picton fell at the head of the ‘fighting fifth,’ but the french were routed. two thousand prisoners and two eagles were taken, besides the killed and the wounded.”
“it was no use to try to beat the english, for the longer the french fought the worse it was for them.”
“not satisfied, the french made a third and last attack. this was on the british right, and wellington was obliged to form his troops into squares. the french cuirassiers were desperate, but their attacks were fruitless. all that men could do was done by them, but british hearts and british hands were too strong to be conquered. ten thousand men on the part of wellington, and fifteen thousand on the side of buonaparte, lay dead upon the field. marshal ney led on the french bravely. never was a braver soldier. the old french guards, the flower of the army, dashed forward, and the carnage was dreadful. the 27th british regiment had four hundred men 336mowed down in square, without their pulling a trigger. the 92nd regiment routed a french column when only two hundred strong, and the 33rd regiment was almost cut to pieces,—still they stood their ground. wellington looked at his watch, longing for night, or the approach of the prussians. at last came the critical moment. ‘the hour is come!’ cried wellington, closing his telescope, and leading on the troops.”
“but where was buonaparte?”
“when buonaparte saw his old guard in confusion he turned pale. ‘they are mingled together,’ said he, ‘and all for the present is lost.’ he then clapped his spurs to his horse, flying in full gallop from the field. the fight went on, but the french were beaten back at all points. the prussians came up, and buonaparte’s army was entirely routed. what a sight was the battle-plain! the ball and the bullet, the sword and the bayonet had done their work, and infantry and cavalry, men and horses, muskets, swords, harness, baggage, and dismounted artillery, were mingled together; the wounded, the dead, and the dying, lay in heaps, and in the space of a few miles fifty thousand men and horses bestrewed the plain. the battle had been fought, and the victory had been won. the sun of napoleon’s glory had set for ever, and the glittering diadem had fallen from his brow. before the battle buonaparte was an emperor, but waterloo 337rolled back upon him the tide of war, crushing his armed legions, rending his colours, trampling on his eagles, wresting the sceptre and the baton from his hand, tearing the epaulettes from his shoulders, and sending him forth with a cainlike mark on his brow, a flying fugitive on the face of the earth.
“the battle of waterloo, which was won—to say nothing of god’s goodness—by forethought, prudence, knowledge, self-possession, confidence, and superior tactics on the part of the commander, and by obedience, steadiness, promptitude, endurance, and invincible courage on the part of the officers and men, cost england much; much in treasure, and more in manly hearts; but it is fair to look at both sides of the question. it has been followed by a twenty-seven years’ peace; and if we had not endured the one, it is uncertain if we should ever have enjoyed the other.”
“you have told us a great deal about soldiers and sailors.”
“i might tell you a great deal more, boys, for an old soldier is not soon tired in talking of his native land, or of the bold hearts that have bled in her service. the battle of trafalgar, where nelson fell, is the most important sea-fight, and the battle of waterloo, which i have just described, is the most famous engagement by land, in english history. many a disabled seaman from the one, 338has found an asylum in greenwich hospital, and many a wounded soldier from the other has shouldered his crutch in chelsea college. these two places of retreat for disabled soldiers and sailors have been long held in high estimation. at chelsea, you may see the grey-headed veterans, sitting in the sun, and at greenwich, the weather-beaten old tars, seated under the trees in the park, talking 339over their adventures, and fighting their battles over again. i can fancy that i now see them grouped together, with a flag flying over their heads, bearing underneath the crown of victoria the motto, ‘old england for ever! soldiers and sailors! wellington and nelson! waterloo and trafalgar!’
“when looking on the faces and forms of the soldiers and sailors of chelsea and greenwich you would hardly regard them as the thunderbolts of war; but age robs the eye of its fire and the body of its strength, and habits of ease impart an appearance of quietude altogether opposed to the fierceness of the stormy fight; but for all this, these are the men who have fought england’s battles, and borne the fury of desolating war.
“and now, boys, i hope that i have made you a little wiser than you were about soldiers and sailors, without exciting in your hearts a love of war, or setting you to sigh for a monument in westminster abbey. willingly would i take for my motto ‘universal peace, and every man a brother,’ but until the time shall come when swords shall be beaten into plough-shares, spears into pruning-hooks, and war shall be known no more, may red-coats deserve and receive all that good conduct entitles them to; and blue-jackets prefer reputation to prize-money as long as a sail flutters in the breeze, or the union jack 340flies at the mast-head! may soldiers and sailors encourage kindly feelings one towards another; and this be their only contention, which shall most faithfully discharge their duty, and most truly love, serve, and honour their country.”
