There was an almost inevitable lull in the battle after the desperate charge of the cuirassiers and its aftermath. On the allied side, casualties had been high and a number of regiments had been forced to join with others to ensure a viable fighting force. Many of the remaining troops were almost out of ammunition and were driven to search the pouches of the dead to try and replenish their own. This was particularly true for those light troops who had been facing the ubiquitous tirailleurs; many of the allied skirmishers had completely run out of ammunition and were forced to rejoin the main body of their regiments, leaving them exposed to the fire of the French. Many felt the battle was on the point of being lost and silently awaited the inevitable knockout blow.
After the charge, General Halkett, fearing the battle was nearly lost, wrote a note to his wife and advised another officer to tell his own wife to move to Brussels.1 Other officers were not convinced they were winning the battle; Major Jessop of the Quarter Master General’s department, meeting the 1st Foot Guards as they arrived on the battlefield, urged them on as ‘the action was going badly.’2
At about six o’clock Cooke’s British Guards division and its two batteries arrived after a 40-kilometre march from Enghien. This was a vital reinforcement for Wellington as he had now concentrated sufficient troops to contemplate a counter-attack. He had no doubt noticed that Ney had no fresh troops available and the enthusiasm and élan of the French troops was waning as they became increasingly exhausted after hours of desperate fighting in stifling heat. It is hard to believe that the allied commander could have contemplated such an offensive without this reinforcement, but once again he had the initiative of a junior commander to thank, rather than his own planning, for Cooke, in the absence of any orders on arrival at Braine-le-Comte, had taken the decision to continue his march. The necessary orders did not reach him until an hour later; if he had waited for them it is unlikely that his 4,500 men and twelve guns would have arrived in time to contribute to the fighting.
Cooke’s arrival was quickly followed by the two batteries of Brunswick artillery and two Brunswick infantry battalions that had marched south from Brussels; the tide had finally tipped irrevocably against Marshal Ney, who no doubt realised that the 1st Corps was unlikely to return in time to seize the crossroads. Wellington had now established a line along the heights of Bati-Saint-Bernard; with the main bodies of the units on this line able to shelter behind the crest, they were able to get some respite from the heavy and accurate French artillery and skirmisher fire.
As Wellington contemplated a counter-attack, a Prussian staff officer arrived from Ligny. This officer informed him that Blücher’s army had suffered heavy casualties and that the best that could be hoped for was that it could maintain its position on the battlefield until last light. He finished by requesting that Wellington launch a strong offensive that might deter Napoleon from launching a final, decisive attack.
Whilst Bachelu’s and Foy’s columns seemed reluctant to advance, for Prince Jérôme’s troops in the Bossu wood success must have felt very close. Since their commitment into the wood they had fought hard in the close and claustrophobic terrain, where order and cohesion were almost impossible to maintain. The fighting had been confused as troops of different nations entered and left the wood at different points and from different directions. Now operating in small groups, often without supervision or orders, they had been fighting against troops in uniforms of green, blue, grey and red, and been able to push them back to the very northern edge of the wood where it met the Nivelles road. But now, just as it seemed that they would push them out of the trees altogether, Cooke’s guardsmen were launched into the wood. Although exhausted from their long march they were eager to enter the fight and did so with enthusiasm and full ammunition pouches. Committed in growing strength and being well disciplined, they slowly began to force the tirailleurs back. Experienced and determined troops, the French skirmishers were able to cause considerable casualties on the advancing guardsmen and they were able to deliver a considerable check where the Gémioncourt stream cut through the wood and offered an obstacle covered by thick undergrowth. Step by step they disputed their withdrawal, giving up their previous gains reluctantly.
Outside the wood, astride the main road, the allied line also began a cautious advance. This was no grand advance against a demoralised and broken enemy like that which would be seen at Waterloo two days later. General Foy’s chief-of-staff wrote:
His considerable numerical superiority gave him a great advantage. Happily, his habitual caution did not desert him . . . Lord Wellington took the offensive, but quite timidly.3
The French, exhausted by their efforts and short of ammunition, gave up their ground reluctantly, drawing back slowly and maintaining their fire. But Ney had no fresh reserves with which to oppose the allied advance; all his men had been committed and at the very moment that he needed them most, he had learnt that the 1st Corps had been denied him. Like their compatriots in the wood, Bachelu’s and Foy’s men fell back slowly; the allied units in the centre were too exhausted and lacking in ammunition to be able to push them hard. It appears that there was little fighting here; the French falling back as the allied troops advanced. Colonel Jolyet reported:
Two regiments of cavalry (one of cuirassiers and one of lancers) then appeared and made several charges on the English squares; but, as they were unsuccessful, they retired. Seeing myself alone and not wanting to lose all my men, I moved towards a large farm [Grand Pierrepont] which would serve as a strongpoint, and two companies from the third battalion came and joined me. We were followed by a cloud of English skirmishers, supported by artillery and columns of infantry. Nevertheless, we were able to hold on to the farm until night.4
On the French right things were a little different. Here the Rifles and Brunswick light troops had been significantly reinforced by Hanoverian troops, tasked with pushing the French back and clearing the Namur road. In the face of their advance, the 2nd légère had no option but to drop back and soon Piraumont was back in allied hands. General Foy wrote:
. . . the English, no doubt fearing that they would be pressed along the Namur road where they deployed without interruption, approached Piermont [Piraumont] and, despite our artillery fire which caused them considerable loss, captured the village and reached the neighbouring wood [Delhutte]. This situation forced us to extend and withdraw our right.5
Colonel Trefcon, the chief-of-staff to Bachelu, was on this part of the field:
Our retreat on Piraumont was almost fatal for me. As I had remained a little in the rear to rally the soldiers and to hold them in position, my horse, getting excited, got itself caught up in the wheat or in I know not what and kicked, refusing to advance. I sensed the English on my heels and, worried that I would be taken, threw myself to the ground, when suddenly my horse decided to gallop off. I took off in fear, for the English were already very close to me . . . We were forced to abandon Piraumont and to reoccupy the positions from which we had started the action.6
On the French left, two strong battalions of British guardsmen had deployed into the Bossu wood. Unfortunately, there is no French account of the fighting here, but we get a good feel from an officer of the 1st Foot Guards:
The men gave a cheer, and rushing in drove everything before them to the end of the wood, but the thickness of the underwood soon upset all order, and the French artillery made the place so hot that it was thought advisable to draw back to the stream, which was rather more out of range. A great many men were killed and wounded by the heads of the trees falling on them as cut off by cannon shot.7
Prince Jérôme’s men were eventually pushed out of the wood, but formed up to its south and disputed with determination the exit of the guards who tried to deploy in the open ground. However, suffering casualties from the French fire and threatened by cavalry, in a scene reminiscent of earlier in the day the two guards battalions broke and dashed for the safety of the trees and the hollow way which ran along its edge. Piré’s troopers failed to catch them and suffered severely from their fire and that of a Brunswick square which stood in the open ground. Cooke’s men, faced by the determined resistance and the strongpoint of Pierrepont held by Jolyet’s men, advanced no further; the skirmisher fire continued until darkness fell.
As the light failed the French found themselves on the ground where they had started the attack in the morning. Wellington appeared content with how the battle finished; Quatre Bras remained in his hands and that crossroads, and the Namur road, was no longer under French fire. His communications with the Prussians had been restored. The French troops were sullen and felt defeated; Colonel Jolyet reported:
I have recounted these moments in detail to show what disarray reigned in the headquarters. One never knew who commanded; from our arrival on the battlefield we did not see a single general. It was only a junior staff officer who gave me, on the move and without detail, the order to advance. When the English appeared to be shaken, no fresh troops were sent that could have completed the enemy’s rout. Our regiments fought well; there were some brilliant actions, guns taken from the enemy, but there was no co-ordination, no direction! We felt abandoned . . .8