The following account by Englishmen visiting the battlefield of Waterloo one month after the battle is interesting and valuable for its description of what they saw. There are; however, historical inaccuracies. The narrative states that: the capture of Hougoumont was important to Napoleon; and that Napoleon himself directed a charge of the Imperial Guard against Hougoumont. As we know, Napoleon intended the assault on Hougoumont as a diversion to induce Wellington to weaken his center by reenforcing Hougoumont. However, Jerome Bonaparte, who was in command of the assaulting force, in an effort to impress his brother, escalated the diversion into a major contest, one which cost the Emperor thousands of troops that he could not afford to lose, was counterproductive to the main objective of concentrating as much of the army as possible against the main objective; Wellington's center, cost precious hours that the Emperor could ill-afford to lose, and ultimately cost him the battle. Of course, there were many other factors that contributed to the defeat of the French; however, the debacle of Hougoumont was probably paramount because it was major and it occurred at the outset of the battle, thereby having an effect on everything that occurred thereafter. With regard to the author's statement that Napoleon directed a charge of the Imperial Guard against Hougoumont, this is again incorrect. That charge was directed toward Wellington's left center; however, because of confusion of the battlefield, and perhaps for other reasons that will forever remain unknown, the charge did not go as planned and was a failure.
In the month of July, 1815, three English gentlemen set out from Brussels, to explore the celebrated field of Waterloo. The distance from Brussels to this village is about ten miles, and the prospect on leaving the city is very pleasing. The forest of Soignies soon appears in view, and it has a deep gloomy aspect, which adds considerably to the interest of the landscape. This forest occupies an immense tract of country from east to west, but is only about seven miles broad, where the road passes through it to Waterloo. The visitors naturally contrasted the quiet of their journey,—a few Flemish peasants going to their labour,—with its terrific appearance on the day of the retreat of the baggage and wounded of the army; the numbers who fell through weakness or loss of blood; the hundreds who were crushed to death; the hurry, the noise, the confusion, the shrieks, and agonizing groans, of that heartrending scene.
The carriage kept the paved centre of the road; the two sides being deep and muddy, as they were on the day of battle. The whole breadth of the road, including the sides, appeared to be about fifty feet. The trees by which it is bounded on both sides are tall, and kept trimmed like a high hedge; and beyond these commences the wood, in all the irregularity of nature. Here the wounded had crawled, to find a last resting-place, and hither the entire population of the country had fled for safety. Several mounds marked the spots where men and horses had been buried. These were rendered peculiarly affecting by the frequent appearance of hoofs, limbs, and bayonet-scabbards, which had not been sufficiently covered; and the sides of the road presented innumerable shoes, caps, and fragments of cloth; which were now hardly distinguishable front the mud.
The village and church of Waterloo were now in sight, embosomed in a recess of the wood. The road was quite out of the forest; which, however, covered the whole country to the east and west as far as the eye could reach. Our travellers proceeded a mile forward to the hamlet of Mont St. Jean, by a gradual ascent of the road; on the right and left of which, the British army bivouacked on the night preceding the battle.
The inhabitants of this hamlet issued from their houses, at every fresh arrival of visitors, and offered for sale some relics of the battle. Entire cuirasses, elegant carbines, costly sabres, and beautiful pistols, were shown in succession; together with letters, bibles, pamphlets, songs, remnants of military habiliments, and even the buttons torn from the jackets of the dead.
Here, as the strangers looked around, and contemplated the numerous graves that presented themselves on every side, they felt that these mounds of earth were more awfully impressive than the view of thousands of lifeless bodies. "These hillocks? which frequently tripped the step on crossing a hedge-row, clearing a fence, or winding along among the grass that overhung a secluded path," generally lay in thick clusters and long ranks; betwixt which a black circle demonstrated that fire had been employed to consume as worthless refuse, what had been cherished by parents, esteemed by friends, and fondly loved by angelic woman.
The passing gale that shook the branches of the trees, brought with it a dreadful stench; and the foot that startled the bird from its repose amidst the clover, disturbed at the same time some poor remnant of a human being.
"Some marks of wreck were scatter'd all around, As shoe, and belt, and broken bandoleer, And hats which bore the mark of mortal wound; Gun-flints and balls for those who closelier peer; And sometimes did the breeze upon its breath Bear from ill-cover'd graves a taint of death."
SOUTHEY.
From St. Jean, the road ascends up the back of the ridge, on the height and in the front of which, the Duke of Wellington's infantry was formed in line. The cavalry, at the commencement of the battle, were posted on the St. Jean side of the eminence. The ascent is easy; and, on reaching the summit, the whole field of battle is at once before the eye.
The point whence this complete view of the scene first presents itself, is truly interesting. It is the summit of the ridge close to the road, overhung by an old picturesque tree, with a few straggling branches projecting from its venerable trunk.
The British position extended on the right and left of the road, for the extent of two miles, along the summit of a continued line of gentle eminences, confronted by similar heights, distant from half to three quarters of a mile, along which the French army was posted to an extent of nearly three miles. The intervening plain, and the ascent of the ridge of St Jean, form the field of battle.
The tree, already noticed, as overhanging the bank above the high road from Brussels to Charleroi, marks the centre of the British position; and, the Duke of Wellington having remained near it the greater part of the day, it has obtained the appellation of "Wellington tree." Its branches and trunk were much splintered by balls; yet its vitality seems uninjured, and it will probably remain for many years a standing monument of the victory of Waterloo.
At a short distance from this tree, near the road, our travellers saw the farm of La Haye Sainte. The garden exhibited an awful scene of devastation: the hedges were levelled, and the walls broken down. The door was perforated with all sorts of shot, and furnished a dreadful proof of the fury of the attack, and the determination of the defence. This post, after a most heroic resistance by the party to whom it was entrusted, was forced by the French, and every person within the building was put to death. On entering into the courtyard, the appearance was still more wretched and fearful. The roofs of the dwelling-house and offices were knocked into large holes by bombs and cannon-balls; the windows were dreadful wrecks, the glass shattered to pieces, the frames broken, and the fragments hanging in a most forlorn state.
The visitors next proceeded to the memorable post of Hougoumont, so gallantly defended by the first, second, and third, regiments of British foot-guards, with a detachment of Brunswickers, against the desperate and persevering attacks of thirty thousand of the enemy.
Hougoumont was a country-seat, with gardens neatly laid out in the Dutch taste, and extensive offices. A small wood was on the outside, a short distance from the garden-wall, which is of brick, perforated in two tiers for musketry, and much shattered with the enemy's cannon-balls. The light companies of the three regiments of guards were stationed in this wood, and were thence driven into the house.
When walking in the garden, where the fruit-trees and shrubberies appeared blighted, and the neat alleys of holly and yew were sadly lacerated and deranged, our travellers saw the gardener, who had remained in his garden the whole time of the battle; because, as he candidly confessed, after hostilities had commenced, he could not venture out of it.
We have already stated, in our account of the battle, that it was an object of importance to the enemy to gain this post, as, from its situation, it commanded a considerable part of the British position; and accordingly it was furiously and incessantly assailed, but gallantly and successfully defended to the last. Buonaparte himself directed the charge of the French imperial guards against it; but even though fighting under the eye of their chief, they were broken and repulsed by the British guards. Thirty pieces of artillery played continually over this wood, to assist its defence, while the French directed against it their hottest fire.
All the trees in the wood of Hougoumont were pierced with balls, and, in some instances, upwards of twenty had lodged in a single trunk. The strokes, however, which were so fatal to human life, had done but little injury here. Though the trunks were filled with balls, and the branches broken and destroyed, their verdure still remained. Wild flowers were still blooming, and wild raspberries ripening beneath their shade; while huge offensive piles of human ashes were all that now remained of the heroes who fought and fell upon this fatal spot.
The chateau, upon which the attack was first made by the French, is immediately behind the wood, by the road leading to Nivelles. It was the country-seat of a Belgic gentleman, and was set on fire by shells, during the battle, which completed the destruction occasioned by the cannonade. In the garden behind the house, the orange-trees, roses, and geraniums in full flower, presented a striking contrast to the mouldering piles of the ruined house, and the surrounding scene of desolation.
Our poet-laureate, who visited the field of battle in the autumn of 1815, has thus described the garden of Hougoumont,
"Throughout the garden, fruits and herbs and flowers
....You saw in growth, or ripeness, or
decay;
.The green and well-trimm'd dial mark'd
the hours
....With gliding shadow as they pass'd
away;
.Who would have thought, to see this garden
fair,
.Such horrors had so late been acted there?"
The walls of the front rooms in this public-house were completely scribbled over with names, inscriptions, poetry, and drawings: and the whimsical humour that distinguishes the public character of the English, had not been repressed by the awful circumstances of the situation. A variety of persons had recorded that they "came to the field of battle at Waterloo," in the month of "July, 1815." A Mr. Thomas Jackson had merely left his name for the admiration of posterity: but some other person had appended the remark, that "he was hanged at the last assizes for sheep-stealing!" The portrait of one of the life-guards had been delineated by some friendly hand, in coal-outline: immediately beneath which some fastidious critic in the fine arts, jealous probably of the honour thus paid, had written the words "ugly theef!
A considerable breadth along the road was pointed out as the station of the reserve of the cavalry of Napoleon's old guard; with which a final effort was made to retrieve the battle. The marks of the horses' feet in the miry ground, hardened again at the time of this visit, afforded a tolerably correct idea of the immensity of the force which had stood there.
And close beside, the harden'd mud
Still shows where, fetlock deep in blood,
The fierce dragoon, through battle's flood,
.......Dash'd the hot war-horse on."
Returning by Belle Alliance, the visitors advanced about a hundred and fifty yards to the rising ground, on the left side of the road looking to the British army, from which Buonaparte had a complete view of the field of battle.
The spot on which the old guard were finally defeated, was said to be the burial-place of a thousand Frenchmen: and the holsters, standard-holders, pieces of bridles, straps, girths, &c., which still lay scattered about, denoted a tremendous conflict of cavalry. The well-known caps of the grenadiers of the French guard, lay yet in considerable numbers; with rags of their uniforms. There were also some more affecting remains, pieces of tartan and of ostrich feathers, the plaids and plumes of Scotland.
Our travellers now retired from this truly interesting scene, exclaiming, with the poet,