And So It Begins ...

French Foot Artillery
(Source)

From where he sat on his horse, Général de Brigade Jean-Baptiste, Baron Pelletier¹, commanding the artillery of the II Corps, could see what appeared to be buildings just beyond the trees which seemed to fill the small valley to his front.

But on the slope opposite where his batteries were positioned, he could see infantry, cavalry, and artillery. His gun captains knew their business, he was ready, they were ready. So he nodded to the gun captain of his right-most gun.

"Feu!" that worthy bellowed, which was followed by the report of his 6-pounder gun, followed almost immediately by the gun next to it, then on down the line to the left-most battery commanded by Capitaine Jean-Louis Marie Tacon.

As the cannonade rippled down the line, Pelletier grinned as he heard the deeper roar of the reserve artillery, six 12-pounders and two 5.5 inch² howitzers. The English would feel those, even at a distance of what Pelletier judged to be 1200 paces.

As shot began to fall among the positions of the men deployed behind Hougoumont, some of the battalion commanders had their men lie down. Many had noticed that due to the condition of the ground the artillery weren't able to "bounce" their rounds into the troops.³

The sodden ground was absorbing the shot for the most part. For the explosive rounds fired by the howitzers, many of those had their fuses go out when they landed in the mud.

Though the French gunfire wasn't that effective, it did cause some of the Angl0-Allied troops to pull back just beyond the crest of the ridge, to further shelter the men from the guns.

Pelletier was watching the far ridge through his glass and saw some units falling back out of sight. He took this as a sign that the English might be retreating, he called to his aide.

"Jean-Claude, my compliments to Prince Jérôme,⁴ les Anglais seem to be pulling back from the ridge, now would be a good time to drive their skirmishers from those woods below."

The aide galloped off.

Général de Division Prince Jérôme Bonaparte received the handwritten message himself, rather than waiting for an aide to handle it. He was impatient to get into action.

With the classic impatience of the Bonaparte clan, he gestured at the messenger from Pelletier. "Quickly man, give it here!"

He read the message quickly, "Hhmm, only skirmishers in the valley. Monsieur le Comte," he said to his second-in-command Général de Division Armand-Charles, Comte Guilleminot, "I thought there was a substantial farm complex inside those trees. Pelletier only sees skirmishers."

Guilleminot shook his head, "He can't see much from up there, maybe the roofs of the farm but not what's inside the trees. Maybe he assumes that the units on the ridge only have their skirmishers in there. But I saw more, Nassauers and Hanoverians in the wood, Englishmen occupying the farm complex, which has been prepared for defense."

Jérôme thought for a moment, then called to a waiting aide-de-camp, "Capitaine Jonquil, my compliments to Baron Bauduin, he is to take his brigade into the woods, using a heavy line of skirmishers out front, and drive the enemy from the woods and the farm complex!"

Guilleminot thought the move premature, send skirmishers in to fix the enemy position, then perhaps send a brigade, or more, in to contest the farm and the adjacent wood. But the Prince wasn't known for his patience.

Privates Jürgen Stroop and Wilhelm Kessler, light infantrymen from Nassau, heard the drums of the French and within moments saw a line of French infantry advancing slowly into the wood.

"Hold your fire, Kessler. I shoot, then you wait until I reload, then you shoot. We take turns. Our job is to slow the enemy down, cause casualties if we can, but our job is to delay. When you shoot, look for the men waving their arms around and with the fancier hats, those will be sergeants and officers."

Kessler grinned, he rather liked the idea of shooting the types of men who made his life miserable.

Their green uniforms blended in somewhat with the trees, though there wasn't much in the way of underbrush, there was enough to provide them concealment.

As the French got closer, Stroop saw a man on foot, carrying a sword. Had to be an officer. He brought his musket up slowly.

The captain of light infantry was searching the wood ahead, he knew there were enemy in here. His company's job was to drive them back so that their own supports could move up and drive the enemy from the wood.

"Alors, my boys, don't bunch up, keep your intervals ..." as the last word left his mouth, he saw movement to his front. Then he felt as if he'd been punched in the stomach.

"Slide to the rear, Kessler. I'm sure I hit that officer. Displace to your left a bit. Don't move in a straight line."

Stroop was reloading as he moved, difficult but not impossible. He had removed his bayonet, and had had Kessler do the same, to avoid impaling his own hand as he reloaded.

"Merde! The capitaine is dead, come on lads, I see the bastards who did it!" The junior sergeant let his emotions take him to a place he shouldn't go. "En avant! À la baïonnette!"

At least three Nassauers had their muskets leveled at the young man, as he charged forward, those three muskets all fired, nearly in unison.

The young sergeant from Gascony was thrown back from the impact of the three lead balls, all to his torso. He was dead before he hit the ground.

Stroop was heading back to the rear faster than he wanted to, but the French had their blood up. He had watched aghast as a party of French skirmishers had caught up with two of his countrymen. Both were bayoneted to death without mercy.

"Come on, Kessler, we need to get back to the chateau. There are too many Frenchmen coming at us."

But Kessler had dropped to one knee and was aiming his weapon towards the advancing French. Stroop wanted to run, but his training and his sense of duty overrode his sense of self-preservation. He stopped and prepared to cover Kessler, who, at that moment, fired.

And missed.

Sergent-chef Guy Chalmont felt a ball whistle past, that one had been close.

"Guy, to your left, there is the cochon who fired at you!"

Chalmont turned, indeed, he saw two green-coated men, he knew they were Nassauers. "At them boys! Cut them down!"

The man kneeling stood no chance, Chalmont's bayonet took the young Nassauer in the chest. The man standing thrust the muzzle of his musket at Chalmont's face, which was parried by the man to Chalmont's left.

It was a good thing he did, for Chalmont's bayonet was stuck in the dying soldier's chest. Putting his foot on the dying Nassauer he tried to pull it out, to no avail.

Stroop was screaming with fury, his stroke had been parried, but fortunately it had left that Frenchman overextended. Stroop swung the butt of his musket at the Frenchman and felt it connect with the side of the man's head.

That man dropped like a stone, but at the same time, the French sergeant had managed to free his bayonet from Kessler's corpse. As Stroop prepared to fend off the French sergeant, he took a step backwards. He felt a hot agony pierce his side as a French bayonet found him.

Stroop died under the French bayonets, within just a few feet of Kessler's body.

Chalmont was panting with exertion, they had arrived at the edge of the wood and what he saw filled him with dread. There, across a few paces of open ground, was a tall brick wall, the top of which bristled with English muskets.

He started to order the remnant of his section to fall back, but the roar of an English volley drowned him out.

Chalmont was down on the ground, there seemed to be no sound, he could feel movement around him, he felt someone tugging at his legs, but then that sensation was gone.

He lost all feeling in his legs and he felt a coldness spreading up into his belly and advancing through his body. He knew what it was, Death was coming for him.

He blinked once, then again. His vision was fading, he wondered ...

Then he felt no more.

"My Prince, Baron Bauduin reports that they have driven the skirmishers from the wood in our front. But he also reports that there is a substantial block of buildings occupied by a great many English. He wants to use his entire brigade to assault that place."

Guilleminot shook his head at the aide, then turned to Jérôme, "I would advise sending this information back to the Emperor. I don't think he knows the problem we face here. I would recommend a holding action, put just enough pressure on this place to keep the English fixed in place. We could maneuver the rest of the division around to the left flank ..."

Jérôme interrupted him, "Do you think I don't know what I'm doing Monsieur le Comte? I understand that the order was to clear the wood. I believe that includes this farm complex as well."

"We should at least go forward and see the situation ..."

Turning from Guilleminot, Jérôme told the aide, "My compliments to the Baron. He may use his brigade as he sees fit."

Turning to a second aide, he said, "My compliments to Baron Soye,⁵ he is to prepare his brigade to support Bauduin."

As that man galloped off, Guilleminot scribbled a message on a scrap of paper from his valise. Turning to his own aide-de-camp, he said, "Give this to Reille, let him know what we're doing, see if he approves."

The man galloped off, causing Jérôme to turn to his second-in-command with a question in his eye. "What was that about?"

"Merely informing our Corps commander what we're doing."

"Very well."

Defence of the Chateau de Hougoumont
Denis Dighton
(Source)

The battle for the chateau would rage the entire day.

¹ French orders of battle: here and here. The latter source has the order of battle for the entire campaign, all three armies involved.

² In French this would be referred to as a "obusier de 5.5 pouces." One pouce being roughly one inch. Pouce translates literally as "thumb."

³ The range of a cannon firing solid shot could be nearly doubled by having the shot hit in front of an enemy unit, which would kick up stones and dirt into the enemy, increasing the effectiveness of the ball, which would then plunge through the formation before continuing on, hopefully to bounce again. A 12-pounder gun, with a normal range of 900 meters, could nearly double that.

⁴ The younger brother of Napoléon.

⁵ Général de Brigade Baron Jean-Louis Soye commanded the 2nd Brigade of Jérôme's division, Bauduin commanded the 1st.