Charles O'Malley, The Irish Dragoon Volume Ii Part 67

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Already they gained the crest of the hill, and the first line of the British were falling back before them. The artillery closes up; the flanking fire from the guns upon the road opens upon them; the head of their column breaks like a sh.e.l.l; the duke seizes the moment, and advances on foot towards the ridge.

"Up, Guards, and at them!" he cried.

The hour of triumph and vengeance had arrived. In a moment the Guards were on their feet; one volley was poured in; the bayonets were brought to the charge; they closed upon the enemy; then was seen the most dreadful struggle that the history of all war can present. Furious with long-restrained pa.s.sion, the Guards rushed upon the leading divisions; the Seventy-first and Ninety-fifth and Twenty-sixth overlapped them on the flanks. Their generals fell thickly on every side; Michel, Jamier, and Mallet are killed; Friant lies wounded upon the ground; Ney, his dress pierced and ragged with b.a.l.l.s, shouts still to advance; but the leading files waver; they fall back; the supporting divisions thicken; confusion, panic succeeds. The British press down; the cavalry come galloping up to their a.s.sistance; and at last, pell-mell, overwhelmed and beaten, the French fell back upon the Old Guard. This was the decisive moment of the day; the duke closed his gla.s.s, as he said,--

"The field is won. Order the whole line to advance."

On they came, four deep, and poured like a torrent from the height.

"Let the Life Guards charge them," said the duke; but every aide-de-camp on his staff was wounded, and I myself brought the order to Lord Uxbridge.

Lord Uxbridge had already antic.i.p.ated his orders, and bore down with four regiments of heavy cavalry upon the French centre. The Prussian artillery thundered upon their flank and at their rear. The British bayonet was in their front; while a panic fear spread through their ranks, and the cry of "Sauve qui peut!" resounded on all sides. In vain Ney, the bravest of the brave, in vain Soult, Bertrand, Gourgaud, and Labedoyere, burst from the broken, disorganized ma.s.s, and called on them to stand fast. A battalion of the Old Guard, with Cambronne at their head, alone obeyed the summons; forming into square, they stood between the pursuers and their prey, offering themselves a sacrifice to the tarnished honor of their arms. To the order to surrender they answered with a cry of defiance; and as our cavalry, flushed and elated with victory, rode round their bristling ranks, no quailing look, no craven spirit was there. The Emperor himself endeavored to repair the disaster; he rode with lightning speed hither and thither, commanding, ordering, nay, imploring, too; but already the night was falling, the confusion became each moment more inextricable, and the effort was a fruitless one. A regiment of the Guards, and two batteries were in reserve behind Planchenoit. He threw them rapidly into position; but the overwhelming impulse of flight drove the ma.s.s upon them, and they were carried away upon the torrent of the beaten army. No sooner did the Emperor see this his last hope desert him, than he dismounted from his horse, and drawing his sword, threw himself into a square, which the first regiment of Cha.s.seurs of the Old Guard had formed with a remnant of the battalion. Jerome followed him, as he called out,--

"You are right, brother; here should perish all who bear the name of Bonaparte."

The same moment the Prussian light artillery rend the ranks asunder, and the cavalry charge down upon the scattered fragments. A few of his staff, who never left him, place the Emperor upon a horse and fly through the death-dealing artillery and musketry. A squadron of the Life Guards, to which I had attached myself, came up at the moment, and as Blucher's hussars rode madly here and there, where so lately the crowd of staff officers had denoted the presence of Napoleon, expressed their rage and disappointment in curses and cries of vengeance.

Cambronne's battalion stood yet unbroken, and seemed to defy every attack that was brought against them. To the second summons to surrender they replied as indignantly as at first; and Vivian's Brigade was ordered to charge them. A cloud of British horse bore down on every face of the devoted square; but firm as in their hour of victory, the heroes of Marengo never quailed; and twice the bravest blood of Britian recoiled, baffled and dismayed. There was a pause for some minutes, and even then, as we surveyed our broken and blood-stained squadrons, a cry of admiration burst from our ranks at the gallant bearing of that glorious infantry. Suddenly the tramp of approaching cavalry was heard; I turned my head and saw two squadrons of the Second Life Guards. The officer who led them on was bare-headed; his long dark hair streaming wildly behind him, and upon his pale features, to which not even the headlong enthusiasm of battle had lent one touch of color. He rode straight to where I was standing, his dark eyes fixed upon me with a look so fierce, so penetrating, that I could not look away.

The features, save in this respect, had almost a look of idiocy. It was Hammersley.

"Ha!" he cried at last, "I have sought you out the entire day, but in vain.

It is not yet too late. Give me your hand, boy. You once called on me to follow _you_, and I did not refuse; I trust you'll do the like by _me_. Is it not so?"

[Ill.u.s.tration: DEATH OF HAMMERSLEY.]

A terrible perception of his meaning shot through my mind as I clasped his clay-cold hand in mine, and for a moment I did not speak.

"I hoped for better than this," said he, bitterly, and as a glance of withering scorn flashed from his eye. "I did trust that he who was preferred before me was at least not a coward."

As the word fell from his lips I nearly leaped from my saddle, and mechanically raised my sabre to cleave him on the spot.

"Then follow me!" shouted he, pointing with his sword to the glistening ranks before us.

"Come on!" said I, with a voice hoa.r.s.e with pa.s.sion, while burying my spurs in my horse's flanks, I sprang on a full length before him, and bore down upon the enemy. A loud shout, a deafening volley, the agonizing cry of the wounded and the dying, were all I heard, as my horse, rearing madly upward, plunged twice into the air, and then fell dead upon the earth, crus.h.i.+ng me beneath his c.u.mbrous weight, lifeless and insensible.

The day was breaking; the cold, gray light of morning was struggling through the misty darkness, when I once more recovered my consciousness.

There are moments in life when memory can so suddenly conjure up the whole past before us, that there is scarcely time for a doubt ere the disputed reality is palpable to our senses. Such was this to me. One hurried glance upon the wide, bleak plain before me, and every circ.u.mstance of the battle-field was present to my recollection. The dismounted guns, the broken wagons, the heaps of dead or dying, the straggling parties who on foot or horseback traversed the field, and the dark litters which carried the wounded, all betokened the sad evidences of the preceding day's battle.

Close around me where I lay the ground was marked with the bodies of our cavalry, intermixed with the soldiers of the Old Guard. The broad brow and stalwart chest of the Saxon lay bleaching beside the bronzed and bearded warrior of Gaul, while the torn-up ground attested the desperation of that struggle which closed the day.

As my eye ranged over this harrowing spectacle, a dreadful anxiety shot through me as I asked myself whose had been the victory. A certain confused impression of flight and of pursuit remained in my mind; but at the moment, the circ.u.mstances of my own position in the early part of the day increased the difficulty of reflection, and left me in a state of intense and agonizing uncertainty. Although not wounded, I had been so crushed by my fall that it was not without pain I got upon my legs. I soon perceived that the spot around me had not yet been visited by those vultures of the battle-field who strip alike the dead and dying. The distance of the place from where the great conflict of the battle had occurred was probably the reason; and now, as the straggling sunbeams fell upon the earth, I could trace the helmet of the Enniskilleners, or the tall bearskin of the Scotch Greys, lying in thick confusion where the steel cuira.s.s and long sword of the French dragoons showed the fight had been hottest. As I turned my eyes. .h.i.ther and thither I could see no living thing near me. In every att.i.tude of struggling agony they lay around; some buried beneath their horses, some bathed in blood, some, with clinched hands and darting eyeb.a.l.l.s, seemed struggling even in death; but all was still,--not a word, not a sigh, not a groan was there. I was turning to leave the spot, and uncertain which way to direct my steps, looked once more around, when my glance rested upon the pale and marble features of one who, even in that moment of doubt and difficulty, there was no mistaking. His coat, torn widely open, was grasped in either hand, while his breast was shattered with b.a.l.l.s and bathed in gore. Gashed and mutilated as he lay, still the features wore no trace of suffering; cold, pale, motionless, but with the tranquil look of sleep, his eyelids were closed, and his half-parted lips seemed still to quiver in life. I knelt down beside him; I took his hand in mine; I bent over and whispered his name; I placed my hand upon his heart, where even still the life blood was warm,--but he was dead. Poor Hammersley! His was a gallant soul; and as I looked upon his blood-stained corpse, my tears fell fast and hot upon his brow to think how far I had myself been the cause of a life blighted in its hope, and a death like his.

CHAPTER LIV.

BRUSSELS.

Once more I would entreat my reader's indulgence for the prolixity of a narrative which has grown beneath my hands to a length I had never intended. This shall, however, be the last time for either the offence or the apology. My story is now soon concluded.

After wandering about for some time, uncertain which way to take, I at length reached the Charleroi road, now blocked by carriages and wagons conveying the wounded towards Brussels. Here I learned, for the first time, that we had gained the battle, and heard of the total annihilation of the French army, and the downfall of the Emperor. On arriving at the farm-house of Mont St. Jean, I found a number of officers, whose wounds prevented their accompanying the army in its forward movement. One of them, with whom I was slightly acquainted, informed me that General Dashwood had spent the greater part of the night upon the field in search of me and that my servant Mike was in a state of distraction at my absence that bordered on insanity. While he was speaking, a burst of laughter and the tones of a well-remembered voice behind attracted my attention.

"Made a very good thing of it, upon my life. A dressing-case,--not gold, you know, but silver-gilt,--a dozen knives with blood-stone handles, and a little coffee-pot, with the imperial arms,--not to speak of three hundred Naps in a green silk purse--Lord! it reminds me of the Peninsula. Do you know those Prussians are mere barbarians, haven't a notion of civilized war. Bless your heart, my fellows in the Legion would have ransacked the whole coach, from the boot to the sword-case, in half the time they took to cut down the coachman."

"The major, as I live!" said I. "How goes it, Major?"

"Eh, Charley! when did you turn up? Delighted see you. They told me you were badly wounded or killed or something of that kind. But I should have paid the little debt to your executors all the same."

"All the same, no doubt, Major; but where, in Heaven's name, did you fall upon that mine of pillage you have just been talking of?"

"In the Emperor's carriage, to be sure, boy. While the duke was watching all day the advance of Ney's column and keeping an anxious look-out for the Prussians, I sat in a window in this old farm-house, and never took my eye off the garden at Planchenoit. I saw the imperial carriage there in the morning; it was there also at noon; and they never put the horses to it till past seven in the evening. The roads were very heavy, and the crowd was great. I judged the pace couldn't be a fast one; and with four of the Enniskilleners I charged it like a man. The Prussians, however, had the start of us; and if they hadn't thought, from my seat on horseback and my general appearance, that I was Lord Uxbridge, I should have got but a younger son's portion. However, I got in first, filled my pockets with a few little _souvenirs_ of the Emperor, and then laying my hands upon what was readiest, got out in time to escape being shot; for two of Blucher's hussars, thinking I must be the Emperor, fired at me through the window."

"What an escape you had!"

"Hadn't I though? Fortunate, too, my Enniskilleners saw the whole thing; for I intend to make the circ.u.mstance the ground of an application for a pension. Hark ye, Charley, don't say anything about the coffee-pot and the knives. The duke, you know, has strange notions of his own on these matters. But isn't that your fellow fighting his way yonder?"

"Tear and ages! don't howld me--that's himself,--devil a one else!"

This exclamation came from Mickey Free, who, with his dress torn and dishevelled, his eyes bloodshot and strained, was upsetting and elbowing all before him, as he made his way towards me through the crowd.

"Take that fellow to the guard-house! Lay hold of him, Sergeant! Knock him down! Who is the scoundrel?"

Such were the greetings he met with on every side. Regardless of everything and everybody, he burst his way through the dense ma.s.s.

"Oh, murther! oh, Mary! oh, Moses! Is he safe here after all?"

The poor fellow could say no more, but burst into a torrent of tears.

A roar of laughter around him soon, however, turned the current of his emotions; when, das.h.i.+ng the scalding drops from his eyelids, he glared fiercely like a tiger on every side.

"Ye're laughing at me, are ye," cried he, "bekase I love the hand that fed me, and the master that stood to me? But let us see now which of us two has the stoutest heart,--you with your grin on you, or myself with the salt tears on my face."

As he spoke, he sprang upon them like a madman, striking right and left at everything before him. Down they went beneath his blows, levelled with the united strength of energy and pa.s.sion, till at length, rus.h.i.+ng upon him in numbers, he was overpowered and thrown to the ground. It was with some difficulty I accomplished his rescue; for his enemies felt by no means a.s.sured how far his amicable propensities for the future could be relied upon; and, indeed, Mike himself had a most const.i.tutional antipathy to binding himself by any pledge. With some persuasion, however, I reconciled all parties; and having, by the kindness of a brother officer, provided myself with a couple of troop horses, I mounted, and set out for Brussels, followed by Mickey, who had effectually cured his auditory of any tendency to laughter at his cost.

As I rode up to the Belle Vue, I saw Sir George Dashwood in the window. He was speaking to the amba.s.sador, Lord Clancarty, but the moment he caught my eye, he hurried down to meet me.

"Charley, safe,--safe, my boy! Now am I really happy. The glorious day had been one of sorrow to me for the rest of my life had anything happened to you. Come up with me at once; I have more than one friend here who longs to thank you."

So saying, he hurried me along; and before I could well remember where I was, introduced me to a number of persons in the saloon.

"Ah, very happy to know you, sir," said Lord Clancarty. "Perhaps we had better walk this way. My friend Dashwood has explained to me the very pressing reasons there are for this step; and I, for my part, see no objection."

"What, in Heaven's name, can he mean?" thought I, as he stopped short, expecting me to say something, while, in utter confusion, I smiled, simpered, and muttered some common-places.

"Love and war, sir," resumed the amba.s.sador, "very admirable a.s.sociates, and you certainly have contrived to couple them most closely together. A long attachment, I believe?"

"Yes, sir, a very long attachment," stammered I, not knowing which of us was about to become insane.

Charles O'Malley, The Irish Dragoon Volume Ii Part 67

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Charles O'Malley, The Irish Dragoon Volume Ii Part 67 summary

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