The Siege of London (Posteritas)/Chapter 12
TREMENDOUS BATTLE IN HYDE PARK,—A FRENCH ARMY DRIVEN INTO THE SERPENTINE DURING A FOG.—STUBBORNNESS OF THE ENGLISH TROOPS,—THE SCENE AFTER THE BATTLE.—WRECK AND RUIN EVERYWHERE.—HEARTRENDING SUFFERINGS.
THREE batteries of English artillery commenced the battle, and, not being answered, the French were charged by the heavy dragoons. One of the enemy's squares was broken by the Life Guards, who, however, were not allowed to pursue. The French commander hastily formed line, and commenced to move his whole force forward under under cover of a dense fog, which, however, was hardly favourable to them, as they were totally unacquainted with the ground. The English commander slowly fell back before the advance of the enemy, and swerved towards the west, and then suddenly made a half-turn to the left, this movement being met by the French bringing their right shoulders forward to maintain a line parallel to that of the English. Then a spirited charge of all the British infantry and dragoons was delivered with the utmost vehemence. The French received it in line in order not to slacken their fire by forming squares, which would have prevented three-fourths of each battalion from keeping it up. They poured thus a perfect hurricane of bullets into the English ranks as they slowly retired. But the English showed no inclination to charge home, and only kept pressing their foes back without making them face about, while they were waiting for their artillery to open fire. A cry of surprise suddenly broke from the French rear ranks, and it served to explain the strange manœuvre of the English, who, under cover of the fog, had forced their enemies into the Serpentine. The French Commander-in-Chief had not been aware of the existence of this small lake, not having had time or opportunity to reconnoitre. The scene was extraordinary, and soon an immense number of French troops were struggling frantically in the water, and hundreds of them were drowned while the whole of that wing of the army was thrown into confusion, and were ridden over and cut down by the exultant English.
The advantage thus gained in so extraordinary and probably unparalleled a manner would certainly have enabled them to have driven the enemy back to his original lines could supports have been brought up. But the besieged were too much weakened for this, and no help could be withdrawn from other quarters. Recognising the trap into which he had been driven, the French commander sent every member of his staff to bring up strong reinforcements, and he directed his remaining forces to keeping the English in check, who were not able to turn the confusion of the enemy into a rout, which might easily have been done had a few more battalions been available. The French reinforcements soon began to arrive, and a tremendous fire was opened on the English lines, by which means the ground was cleared for the characteristic fierce charge of two regiments of Zouaves which had been brought up, and now bore down with a wild rush on their enemy's flank. The line was thus thrown into confusion. Facing first one way and then the other, the British forces fell into disorder and could not recover their formation, while the French artillery plied them with a murderous rain of fire.
At the sight of this discomfiture of his men, the English commander galloped to the spot with a Highland brigade of infantry advancing behind him at double time. The French Grenadier regiments rushed forward to cut off his retreat, and a desperate conflict with the bayonet ensued, the English commander being killed in the mêlée.
The struggle had now lasted for six hours, but the end was near. The thick smoke produced by the artillery fire could not rise through the fog, which had partially lifted. The French head-quarter staff had to send up rockets to bring their troops together. Zouaves, Chasseurs, and Grenadiers came up at double time and out of breath. Line battalions followed in more straggling order; and Cuirassiers, Hussars, and Lancers tore along furiously, but not in confusion. The decimated British troops having fought devotedly and with magnificent courage, from an early hour without rest or food, were beginning to wear the aspect of men engaged in a perfectly hopeless struggle. They were losing ground from the mere numerical superiority of their enemy. The Highlanders, however, were not to be beaten, and their battalions, shouting to each other in Gaelic, made such a mad onslaught on their foes that the French lines recoiled. The English Guards then charged the French flanks, and a bewildering medley of friends and foes, struggling in a fierce death grip, took place. This part of the battlefield fell into disorder. Positions were defended where destruction was certain, and others were abandoned when resistance might have been successful. Excitement seemed to have deprived most of those engaged of all power of deciding between the greater advantage of making a stand or of rushing forward in wild attack. The gallantry and dash of the British troops almost rose to the pitch of insane fury, and the enemy was bewildered and confused, as well as daunted by the splendid fighting qualities and magnificent valour of English and Scotch soldiers. It was Waterloo repeated, and had there been a Blücher at hand to have helped the handful of jaded British, England even then might have been saved. But it was not to be. The French saw that a supreme effort must be made if they would not lose the advantages they had already gained. Aides-de-camp galloped frantically to divisional generals with an order for a general charge, to be led by the Zouaves, who swept down with their bayonets fixed. They were met by a corps of Volunteer citizens, who delivered a deadly fire, and then broke away in mad disruption. The Zouaves were immediately followed by the whole French force, personally led by the Commander-in-Chief. Reinforcements had also come up, and the English were outnumbered almost ten to one. Still they disputed every inch of the way, and strewed the ground with the dead and dying of the enemy. Such an unequal struggle, however, could not last long; and, borne down by numbers, the English were driven out of the Park, and the French at once placed a large force in the Green Park.
In this great and decisive battle of Hyde Park, the British loss, including Volunteers, was four thousand killed, and nearly double that number wounded; while the French loss was much greater. This tremendous sacrifice of life was due to the stubbornness of the English troops, and the comparatively small space over which the two armies were manœuvred, the consequence being that the artillery fire committed extraordinary havoc. The total number of troops engaged had been about 67,000 French, and 32,000 British, aided by 20,000 Volunteers.
The night set in with drizzling rain and a bitterly cold wind, and the suffering on the battle-field was awful. Moans of dying men and cries of the wounded filled the air, and like ravening vultures, the spoilers of the dead, these offenders being principally French, hovered about plying their fearful trade. And next day corpses were found which bore unmistakable signs of murder from the knives of the infamous wretches who followed the invading army, and preyed upon the unhappy people of the country. In parts of the field where the artillery fire had been hottest, piles of mutilated remains were seen, half covered with torn and blood-stained uniforms, their rigid up-turned faces still wearing the expressions of ferocity or resignation, and their contorted limbs stiffened into the attitudes imparted to them by feelings of triumph or despair. Others, again, seemed to be appealing in mute agony to God for that mercy which man denied them. The whole park was a scene of wreck and ruin. There was a heterogeneous collection of military accoutrements, broken gun-carriages, artillery wheels, broken swords, bent bayonets, all mingled with a bewildering tangle of trees, which had been torn down by shot and shell, or cut down by the troops. Horses mutilated and shattered were mixed up with the human bodies, and, in fact, the whole spot was a hideous shamble of blood and torn bodies. The railings had been thrown down all round the park; the marble arch had crumbled into the dust, and thousands of the surrounding houses were shattered and riddled into shapeless ruins.
And all this appalling harvest of death,—this ghastly misery; the tears and blood; the slaughter of gallant soldiers; the moaning of widows, the starvation of orphans, and the dismemberment of a once mighty empire,—was the result of political fallacies guiding the action of utterly incapable statesmen.