Following on from the various other items I have posted, here is a letter from Private John Lewis, 2nd Btn 95th Regiment of Foot (Rifles), dated 8th July 1815, to his family, which may be of interest to some of you:
'I make no doubt but you have heard of the glorious news and I suppose you thought I was killed or wounded, but yesterday is the first day we have halted since the beginning of the battle on the 18th of June and my hands are swelled so with walking day and night that I scarce can hold my pen.
I do not know what the English newspapers say about the battle, but thank God I am living and was an eye-witness to the beginning of the battle to the ending of it; but my pen cannot explain to you, nor twenty sheets of paper would not contain what I could say about it, for thank God I had my health and strength more on the day we was engaged than ever I had in my life.
So what I am going to tell you is real truth, but I think my brother Thomas, as he is such a scholar, if he was to look at the newspapers, he might see what officers was killed and wounded of the 95 Regiment. We have but six companies in the country and before the battle we was 550 strong and this morning we was not 295, as we lost of our regiment: 255 privates, two colonels, one major, 15 officers, 11 sergeants and one bugler.
My front rank man was wounded by a part of a shell through the foot and he dropped as we was advancing. I covered the next man I saw and had not walked twenty steps before a musket shot came sideways and took his nose clean off, and then I covered another man which was the third. Just after that, the man that stood next to me on my left hand had his left arm shot off by a nine pound shot just above his elbow and he turned round and caught hold of me with his right hand and the blood ran all over my trousers. We was advancing, so he dropped.
Directly after this, we was ordered to extend in front of all and our large guns was firing over our heads and the enemy's large guns and small arms was firing at the British lines in our rear and I declare to God, with our guns and the French guns firing over our heads, my pen cannot explain anything like it. It was not 400 yards from the French lines to our British lines and we was about 150 yards in front of ours, so we was about 250 yards from the French and sometimes not one hundred yards, so I leave it to you to judge if I hadn't a narrow escape for my life. As I just said, we was extended in front.
Boney's Imperial Horse Guards, all clothed in armour, made a charge at us. We saw them coming and we all closed in and formed a square. Just as they come within 10 yards of us and they found they could do no good with us, they fired with their carbines on us and come to the right about directly and at that moment the man on my right hand was shot through the body and the blood run out of his belly and back like a pig stuck in the throat. He drop [sic] on his side. I spoke to him; he just said "Lewis, I am done" and died directly. All this time, we kept up a constant fire at the Imperial Guards. They retreated, but they often came to the right about and fire and as I was loading my rifle, one of their shots came and struck my rifle not two inches above my left hand as I was ramming down the ball with my right hand and broke the stock and bent the barrel in such a manner that I could not get the ball down. Just at this time, we extended again and my rifle was of no good to me. A nine pound shot came and cut the sergeant of our company right in two; he was not above three file from me, so I threw down my rifle and went and took his rifle as it was not hurt.
At this time we had lost both our colonels, major, and the two oldest captains and only a young captain to take command of us, for Colonel Wade he was sent to England about three weeks before the battle. Seeing we had lost so many young men and all our commanding officers, my heart began to fail and Boney's guards then made another charge on us, but we made them retreat as before. And while we was in square the second time, the Duke of Wellington and all his staff came up to us in the midst of all the fire and saw we had lost all our commanding officers. He himself gave the word of command; the words he said to our regiment was this: "95th, unfix your swords, left face and extend yourselves once more; we shall soon have them over the other hill" and then he rode away on our right and how he escaped being shot, God only knows, for at this time the shots was flying like hail stones.
This was about 4 o'clock on the 18th June, when Wellington rode away from our regiment and then we advanced like Britons, but we could not go five steps without walking over the dead and wounded and Boney's horses of the Imperial Guards that the men was killed, was running loose about in all directions. If our Tom had been little behind in the race he might catch horses enough to had [sic] a troop or two like Sir John de la Pool.
Wellington declared to us this morning that it was the hardest battle he ever saw fought in his life, but now thank God all is over and we are very comfortable in Paris and I hope we shall remain here and have our Christmas dinner in Paris, for London cannot be compared to it. I hardly know how to spare the time at present to write this letter, for I want to go out about the city, for it is 4 o'clock and the letters go off at 5, but I must say a little more on the other side.
We was all very quiet in quarters till the 15th of June, when the orders came all at once at 12 o'clock at night for every man to be ready in an hour and march at one o'clock. There we was, all of a bustle, so off we goes and it was not light as there was no moon. The orders was that the French was making different movements on our left about 22 leagues from us. Mind the days of the month I say: this day, the 16th, we marched till 11 o'clock that night, which was 22 hours' march for us the first day and we marched 13 leagues in that time, which is 39 English miles. Being dark, General Clinton ordered us to lay down on the roadside for two hours, so we halted and every man got half pint real rum to keep his spirits up.
We set off again at one o'clock the next morning, on the 17th June, and marched 9 leagues. About 4 o'clock in the afternoon and then we was in front of the enemy, but the rain fell on so hard, that the oldest soldier there never saw the like in their life. I really thought that heaven and earth was coming together. There was a few shots fired on both sides that night, but the guns would not go off. We was on one long, high hill and the French on another facing us. There was a large wood behind us and Wellington told us all to get wood and make in large fires and dry ourselves and get our guns fit by daylight, as the enemy could not hurt us; so we made large fires and they was about 4 miles in length and when the French saw it they done the same and it was one of the [most] beautiful sights I ever saw.
And the next morning, as soon as it was light, we went at it ding dong and drove all before us till yesterday the 7th of July that we entered Paris. But ever since the 15th of June till last night the 7th July, we have only laid down in the ground with our clothes on, so I leave you to judge if I am not fatigued out. Blücher rode by the side of Wellington yesterday when we entered Paris. As we was on the advance after the French army, every town we came through, the people was all fled to Paris and took away what they could and the British, Prussian and Russian army broke their houses open and plundered what most good to them and set fire to some; but wine was more plenty than water for all their cellars was full of wine the same as Squire Tucker's is full of cider, and that was the first place all the soldiers broke open. I have often been in cellars and what wine we could not drink and carry away, they would break in the head of the cask and let it run about. I was often over my half-boots in wine. We marched through towns as large as Exeter and not a person to be seen but all locked up and window shutters fastened.
Direct as before only left out Flanders and put France. There is at this present time more than 700,000 soldiers in Paris and round the suburbs. But Boney and all his army is gone – God knows where.
P.S. I shall sleep sound tonight so no more at present from John Lewis.
1815.ltd.uk
returns to Flintloque to paint an Ogre.
