The Battle Dance: Waterloo

Night or Blücher

"Where is my artillery? This is when their crews must rush back to man our guns." The Duke of Wellington was scowling. "The enemy is reorganising its cavalry in those dips of ground."

"That Brunswick battery is holding its own," Sir Edward Barnes commented. "It's newly up, not yet run out of ammunition as have many other gunners."

"I shall have to order up my reserves," the Peer decided. "Lucky I kept back some cannon. Now I might have been without one piece." He confronted his staff. "Canning, alert Colonel Frazer of my desire. Get all available artillery up!" He then waggled his telescope out west. "I doubt those Polish lancers are much of a menace. You, Darnley. Make it known to Major-General Grant... his horsemen will be of higher value here."

"Yes, my lord."

The spaces separating the Allied infantry squares were strewn in shot up horses and cuirassiers, many wriggling, many lifeless. It was shocking to see these once magnificent men and animals reduced to mere fragments: shards of bone, tatters of skin, gristles of muscle, flapping flesh. All the while, their life's source went seeping into the soil, dying it a rusty red. Jasper no longer was fully mindful of the ear splitting racket of the French artillery. The bombardment had struck up with as much ferocity as it had in the first interval between cavalry charges. It was just that his eardrums had ceased to absorb its full force. I am going deaf, he thought. How curious.

"Your troopers are needed in the centre, General."

"Does the Duke say so?" Sir Colquhoun Grant sighed. "Very well. I'll bring my boys. Just don't blame me if Bonaparte flanks our right."

Splitting off one squadron to spy on the Polish lancers, Grant moved the bulk of his men back behind Hougoumont, where he arranged them into line. A fresh surge of hostile horsemen was approaching at a fast rate and Grant ordered his regiments to charge. Good, Jasper thought, he has a reserve. The Peer should approve. The preceding seconds before the charge always seemed an age, though once the horses had sprung forward, everything happened with extraordinary rapidity. The affair was over before Jasper could absorb its half. The dragoons and hussars bashed into the cuirassiers just as they crested the ridge, provoking the French into a stampede. It carried them passed the British infantry, which felled many of the riders as they galloped by at close range. Grant brushed the enemy cavalry right back into the valley. But here he found most of the French mounted forces were massing. Stop, stop, don't fall for the same folly, Jasper willed Grant not to overreach his men as the rest of Uxbridge's cavalry had done.

The lesson had been learned, for the light cavalry slowed, swerved, and trotted back to the ridge top in good order. Jasper gave an outlet of breath and realised he was grinning. Such feelings did not last, for within minutes he saw black specks of horse artillery dragged forward by the enemy. The shower of missives increased until he thought he must surely die if he remained there a minute longer. I can do my country no good in staying to be conked on the head, he decided. A patch of blue sky shone invitingly and riding west he soon could fill his lungs with purer air. I ought to glean what I can while I am here, he thought, justifying his going to the western border of the battlefield. Wellington has an interest in activities here.   

Shielded from the storm, Jasper still had a splendid sight of the Polish lancers, very formidable, but happily unable to skew a lone attaché on their pikes without managing the steep ravine that intervened. To add to his security, a jungle of scrub carpeted the sharp valley until the assent eased into gradual fields flourishing with crops of corn. Clumps of wood loomed above the long line of lancers arrayed on the crest.

Jasper clung to a battery of British guns, there to support Grant's detached squadron of dragoons. Its commander was Captain Mercer.

"Our task is to keep an eye on those Poles," Mercer grumbled, "but not to fire unless they attempt to cross this ravine. Meantime, their cannon can fire on us as much as it pleases while we are unable to respond."