In our last piece, the Allied and French forces were facing off on a battlefield near Waterloo. In our second installment on the Battle of Waterloo, we rejoin the forces as the battle is about to commence.
On the day of the battle Uxbridge was to be found, once again, at the head of his cavalry. Although many on the field believed the French cavalry to be superior, Uxbridge seemed determined to prove them wrong. Often out in front of his men (so that he might better direct them) he led charge after charge against the French; trying to protect the infantry and to press home any advantage that presented itself. Observers claim he personally participated in every cavalry charge by the Allied Forces. Eight or nine times his horse was shot out from under him, but every time he procured a new mount and, refusing to leave his men to fight without him, re-joined the fray. His conduct throughout the battle won him the praise of Lieutenant Colonel Lord Greenock, who proclaimed that “nothing could be more splendid”. Surprisingly Uxbridge came out of every entanglement seemingly unharmed. It was only near to the very end of the battle that his luck failed him.
And it failed him spectacularly. One of the final French cannon shots of the day struck him in the right leg, doing severe damage to bone and flesh. While the leg was not ripped off by the blow, it was horrifically mangled. Lord Greenock witnessed the event from a short distance, and immediately began riding to the Earl’s aid. The popular story has it that upon being hit Uxbridge declared to the Duke (who was nearby at the time) “By God, sir, I’ve lost my leg”; the Duke responding simply “By God, sir, so you have”. Whether true or not this exchange exemplifies the sort of stoicism expected from those wounded in battle at the time, and Uxbridge, in spite of his grievous wound, seemed almost its personification.
Having been wounded Uxbridge was lifted from his horse and carried away from danger. Those aiding him eventually managed to find some passing infantry, and had them carry the Earl back to the nearby village of Waterloo. He was placed in his headquarters, a house owned by a certain Hyacinthe Joseph-Marie Paris. Once Uxbridge was comfortable (or at least as much so as was possible considering the circumstances) a surgeon was called. This man was Deputy Inspector John Robert Hume. Upon arriving he noted with surprise that the Earl was exceptionally calm, and that his pulse was as perfectly regular as though he had just woken from sleep.
Hume, analysing the leg, decided that amputation was the only viable course of action. But he was worried. What if he was wrong? To unnecessarily amputate an Earl’s leg would be a terrible act, with serious ramifications. So, instead, he simply placed a damp piece of lint on the Earl’s leg and went in search of other doctors who might give a second opinion. Having rounded up a few other doctors he brought them in to examine Uxbridge.
As unfazed as ever the Earl greeted these new arrivals in a calm and steady voice with a simple “Good evening gentlemen”. At this moment a young surgeon rushed forwards, and promised the Earl that his leg could be saved. Hume reprimanded this young man and ordered him back. This was perhaps enough for Uxbridge to realise Hume’s concern, and he decided to take charge of the situation. He informed Hume that, while he would prefer to keep his leg if possible, that he trusted the doctor would make the right call and save his life. In spite of Hume’s protests, Uxbridge insisted on the doctors taking whatever action was necessary, until eventually, Hume, with the agreement of the other doctors, decided to proceed with the amputation. The Earl’s only response to this news being: “very well, I am ready”.
Up next in the Battle of Waterloo series is an in-depth look at the gruesome surgery Uxbridge had agreed to undergo.
(Did you read our first piece in the Waterloo Bicentenary series? The Battle of Waterloo: the run-up to the battle)
Written by Matthew Gracey-McMinn
A MyTutor History Tutor