The following narrative, written over eighty years ago, and now at last given to the world in 1906, is remarkable in many respects. It is remarkable for its subject, for its style, and for its literary history. The subject—a deathbed scene—might seem at first sight to be a trite and common one. The mise-en-scÈne—the Field of Waterloo—alone however redeems it from such a charge; and the principal actors play their part in no common-place or unrelieved tragedy. "Certainly," as Bacon says, "Vertue is like pretious Odours, most fragrant when they are incensed or crushed: For Prosperity doth best discover Vice; But Adversity doth best discover Vertue." As to the style, it will be sufficient to quote the authority of Dickens for the statement that no one but Defoe could have told the Its literary history is even more remarkable than either its style or its subject. It is no exaggeration to say of the narrative—as Bacon said of the Latin volume of his Essays—that it "may last as long as Bookes last." And yet it has remained in manuscript for more than eighty years. This is probably unique in the history of literature since the Invention of Printing. As regards the hero of the narrative, the Duke of Wellington once said that he "was an excellent officer, and would have risen to great distinction had he lived." Captain Arthur Gore, who afterwards became Lieutenant-General Gore, alludes to him in the following terms: "This incomparable officer was deservedly esteemed by the Duke of Wellington, who honoured him with his particular confidence and regard." His ancestors, for several generations, had been men of great distinction, and he undoubtedly inherited their great qualities in a very high degree. The De Lancey family is one of Huguenot origin, the founder of the family, The following extracts treating of the family history are taken from Appleton's CyclopÆdia of American Biography. The author of the articles, Edward Floyd De Lancey, "Etienne De Lancey (great-grandfather of Sir William De Lancey), was born in Caen, France, Three of his sons, James, Peter, and Oliver, left descendants. Descendants of the eldest son, James, amongst whom were included Edward Floyd De Lancey, the historian of the family, are resident in the city of New York, and also at Ossining, N.Y. Descendants of the second son, Peter, are now living in the county of Annapolis, Nova Scotia. The third son, Oliver, grandfather of the hero of the present narrative, went to England after the Revolutionary War. No direct descendants of his in the male line would appear to be now living. The following is the account of his life as given in Appleton's CyclopÆdia:— "Oliver, the youngest son of Etienne, was born in New York City, 16th September 1708; and died in Beverley, Yorkshire, England, 27th November 1785. He was originally a merchant, being a member of the firm founded by his father. He In the Life of Van Schaak, his decease is mentioned thus by a fellow-Loyalist: "Our old friend has at last taken his departure from Beverley, which he said should hold his bones; he went off without pain or struggle, his body wasted to a skeleton, his mind the same. The family, most of them, collected in town (London). There will scarcely be a village in England without some American dust in it, I believe, by the time we are all at rest." Stephen, the eldest son of Brigadier-General Oliver De Lancey, and father of Sir William De Lancey, was born in New York City about 1740; and died in Portsmouth, New Hampshire, De
Mr De Lancey was buried in the Wentworth tomb, in St John's Churchyard, where many of the Wentworth Governors of New Hampshire and their families are buried.—Ed. Sir William De Lancey, soldier, only son of the preceding, was born in New York about 1781, Gold Cross of Sir William De Lancey At the close of the war he was made a Knight of the Bath. When Napoleon landed from Elba, Wellington, in forming his staff, insisted on having De Lancey appointed as his Quartermaster-General. The officer really entitled to the promotion was Sir William's brother-in-law, Sir Hudson Lowe; The following extract of a letter from Major-General Sir H. Torrens to Earl Bathurst, Secretary for War, dated Ghent, 8th April 1815, alludes to the hitch about Sir Hudson Lowe: "I shall communicate fully with the Commander-in-Chief upon the Duke of Wellington's wishes respecting his Staff.... As you were somewhat anxious about Sir Hudson Lowe, I must apprise you that he will not do for the Duke." (Supplementary Despatches of the Duke of Wellington, vol. x., pp. 42 and 43.) (Cf. The Creevey Papers, Third Edition (1905), p. 289.) Evidently Sir Hudson Lowe was no more of a persona grata to Wellington than he afterwards became to Napoleon! A letter from Major-General Sir H. Torrens, who appears to have been acting at the time as Military Secretary to the Duke of York, Commander-in-Chief at the Horse Guards, written to the Duke of Wellington from London on the 16th April 1815, shows the high estimation in which the Duke held De Lancey's services:— "De Lancey is in town on his way to go out.... I told him the very handsome and complimentary manner in which you asked for his services, and assured him that nothing could be so gratifying, in my view of the case, to his military and professional feelings as the desire you expressed to me of having him again with you." (Supplementary Despatches of the Duke of Wellington, vol. x., p. 130.) That the Duke felt deeply the interference of Headquarters with his selection of Staff Officers is clearly shown by the following letter, written by him to Earl Bathurst, Secretary for War, dated Bruxelles, 4th May 1815:— "To tell you the truth, I am not very well pleased with the manner in which the Horse Guards have conducted themselves towards me. It will be admitted that the army is not a very good one, and, being composed as it is, I might have expected that the Generals and Staff formed by me in the last war would have been allowed to come to me again; but instead of that, I am overloaded with people I have never seen before; and it appears to be purposely intended to keep those out of my way whom I wished to have. However I'll do the best I can with the instruments which have been sent to assist me." (Supplementary Despatches of the Duke of Wellington, vol. x., p. 219.) There are several references to De Lancey's death in the "Letters of Colonel Sir Augustus S. Frazer, K.C.B., commanding the R.H.A. in the army under the Duke of Wellington, written during the Peninsular and Waterloo campaigns," edited by Major-General Sir Edward Sabine, R.A. On the 29th June Sir Augustus writes to Lady Frazer from Mons: "I regret to state that poor De Lancey is dead; so Hume, the Duke's surgeon, told me. He had opened the body; eight ribs were forced from the spine, one totally broke to In connection with the foregoing, it will be interesting to compare the account of De Lancey's wound given in the Dictionary of National Biography:— "The Duke of Wellington gave the following version of the occurrence to Samuel Rogers: 'De Lancey was with me, and speaking to me when he was struck. We were on a point of land that overlooked the plain. I had just been warned off by some soldiers (but as I saw well from it, and two divisions were engaging below, I said "Never mind"), when a ball came bounding along en ricochet, as it is called, and, striking him on the back, sent him many yards over the head of his horse. He fell on his face, and bounded upwards and fell again. All the staff dismounted and ran to him, and when I came up he said, 'Pray tell them to leave me and let me die in peace.' I had him conveyed to the rear, and two days after, on my return from Brussels, I saw him in a barn, and he spoke with such strength that I said (for I The following is the extract from Wellington's official despatch of the 19th June, referring to De Lancey:— "I had every reason to be satisfied with the conduct of the Adjutant-General, Major-General Barnes, who was wounded, and of the Quartermaster-General, Colonel De Lancey, who was killed by a cannon-shot in the middle of the action. This officer is a serious loss to His Majesty's service, and to me at this moment." At the end of the despatch there is a P.S. announcing the death of Major-General Sir William Ponsonby, followed by a second P.S. couched in the following terms: "I have not yet got the returns of killed and wounded, but I enclose a list of officers killed and wounded on the two days, as far as the same can be made out without the returns; and I am very happy to add that Colonel De Lancey is not dead, and that strong hopes of his recovery are entertained." That the Duke felt keenly his severe losses in killed and wounded, especially amongst the members of his Staff, is shown by the following reminiscence of General Alava, On the evening of the battle, "the Duke got back to his quarters at Waterloo about nine or The following is from General Alava's official report of the action: "Of those who were by the side of the Duke of Wellington, only he and myself remained untouched in our persons and horses. The rest were all either killed, wounded, or lost one or more horses. The Duke was unable to refrain from tears on witnessing the death of so many brave and honourable men, and the loss of so many friends and faithful companions." The next morning, the Duke wrote the following note to Lady Frances W. Webster, dated "Bruxelles, 19th June 1815. "My dear Lady Frances, "Lord Mount-Norris may remain in Bruxelles in perfect security. I yesterday, after a most severe and bloody contest, gained a complete victory, and pursued the French till after dark. They are in complete confusion; and I have, I believe, 150 pieces of cannon; and BlÜcher, who continued the pursuit all night, my soldiers being tired to death, sent me word this morning that he had got 60 more. My loss is immense. Lord Uxbridge, Lord Fitzroy Somerset, General Cooke, General Barnes, and Colonel Berkeley are wounded: Colonel De Lancey, Canning, Gordon, General Picton killed. "Wellington." Captain Gronow—a subaltern of the 1st Guards at Waterloo—gives us the following glimpse of the Duke and his Staff, on the morning of the 18th, before the opening of the battle:— "The road was ankle-deep in mud and slough; and we had not proceeded a quarter of a mile when we heard the trampling of horses' feet, and on looking round perceived a large cavalcade of officers coming at full speed. In a moment we recognised the Duke himself at their head. He was accompanied by the Duke of Richmond, and his son, Lord William Lennox. The entire Staff of the army was close at hand: the Prince of Orange, Count Pozzo di Borgo, Baron Vincent, the Spanish General Alava, Prince Castel Cicala, with their several aides-de-camp; Felton Hervey, Fitzroy Somerset, and De Lancey were the last that appeared. They all seemed as gay and unconcerned as if they were riding to meet the hounds in some quiet English county." Colonel Basil Jackson, who in 1815 was a lieutenant in the Royal Staff Corps, attached to "I remained for some time at a short distance from the great man, who occasionally addressed a few words to Lord Fitzroy Somerset, Sir E. Barnes, De Lancey, and others of his principal officers. He was then awaiting the return of Sir Alexander Gordon, who had gone off by the "I availed myself of this period of quietness to go and examine particularly the ground which had been so hardly contested the day before.... "Returning to the place where I had left the Duke when I set out on my ramble round the outposts, I found him still on the same spot; where he remained till Gordon and his escort came in with jaded horses, soon after 10 o'clock. On hearing his report, the Duke said a few words to De Lancey, who, observing me near him, directed me to go to Sir Thomas Picton, and tell him the orders were to make immediate preparation for falling back upon Waterloo.... "Just as the retreat commenced (about noon), I "A week after the battle"—to quote again from the article by H. Manners Chichester in the Dictionary of National Biography—"De Lancey succumbed to his injuries, in a peasant's cottage in the village of Waterloo, where he was tenderly nursed by his young wife, who had joined him in Brussels a few days before the Lady de Lancey This manuscript account was written in the first instance by Lady De Lancey for the information of her brother, Captain Basil Hall, R.N. The original manuscript has been lost sight of. An early copy, which was made by Mrs Basil Hall, is now in the possession of their grand-daughter, Lady Parsons. Copies would appear to have been made by members of the family at various times; but the existence of the narrative was apparently not known to Edward Floyd De Lancey, the historian of the family in Appleton's CyclopÆdia. Besides the copy of the narrative made by Mrs Basil Hall, another copy came into the possession of the poet Rogers. This copy is now owned by W. Arthur Sharpe, Esq., Highgate, N. Both the above versions—which contain only slight varia Captain Basil Hall, R.N. (vide Dictionary of National Biography, vol. xxiv., p. 58), was a well-known author in his day, his best known work being Fragments of Voyages and Travels, published in three series between 1831 and 1833, and frequently reprinted since. In Volume II. of the first series, Captain Hall alludes to his first meeting with De Lancey. It occurred on board H.M.S. Endymion on the morning of the 18th January 1809, when the British troops had all been safely embarked on the transports, the second day after the battle of Corunna. Basil Hall—then a lieutenant in the navy—and De Lancey His first commission as a cornet in the 16th Light Dragoons bore the date 7th July 1792 (Army List, 1793, p. 50), when he was only eleven years old. He was gazetted lieutenant in the same regiment on the 26th February 1793, and was subsequently transferred to the 80th Foot. On the 20th October 1796 he was gazetted captain in the 17th Light Dragoons, of which regiment his uncle, General Oliver De Lancey, was then colonel. He obtained a majority in the 45th (or Nottinghamshire) Regiment of Foot on the 17th October 1799. He was by this time eighteen years of age, and up to this date had probably no connection with the army at all beyond drawing his pay and figuring in the Army List. Even now he does not appear to have joined his regiment until its return from the West Indies, a year or two afterwards (Dict. Nat. Biog., vol. xiv., p. 305). His first uniform was probably that of the 45th Foot, and the portrait, forming the frontispiece of this volume, was in all likelihood painted on his first joining the regiment as a major in 1800 or 1801. In the Army List of 1804 he is shown on page 31 as an assistant quartermaster-general. His actual regimental service can therefore hardly have exceeded two or three years. Until his death in 1815, he was continuously on the staff of the army in the quartermaster-general's department. The following extract from Captain Basil Hall's Fragments of Voyages and Travels, gives an account of the first meeting of the two friends on board "As we in the Endymion had the exclusive charge of the convoy of transports, we remained to the very last, to assist the ships with provisions, and otherwise to regulate the movements of the stragglers. Whilst we were thus engaged, and lying to, with our main-topsail to the mast, a small Spanish boat came alongside, with two or three British officers in her. On these gentlemen being invited to step up, and say what they wanted, one of them begged we would inform him where the transport No. 139 was to be found. "'How can we possibly tell you that?' said the officer of the watch. 'Don't you see the ships are scattered as far as the horizon in every direction? You had much better come on board this ship in the meantime.' "'No, sir, no,' cried the officers; 'we have received directions to go on board the transport 139, and her we must find.' "'What is all this about?' inquired the "Our next care was to afford our tired warriors the much-required comforts of a razor and clean linen. We divided the party amongst us; and I was so much taken with one of these officers, that I urged him to accept such accommodation as my cabin and wardrobe afforded. "We soon became great friends; but on reaching England we parted, and I never saw him more. Of course he soon lost sight of me, but his fame rose high, and, as I often read his name in the Gazettes during the subsequent campaigns in the Peninsula, I looked forward with a gradually increasing anxiety to the renewal of an acquaintance begun so auspiciously. At last I was gratified by a bright flash of hope in this matter, which went out, alas, as speedily as it came. Not quite six years after these events, I came home from India, in command of a sloop of war. Before entering the Channel, we fell in with a ship which gave us the first news of the battle of Waterloo, and spared us a precious copy of the Duke of Wellington's despatch; and within five minutes after landing at Portsmouth, "'What news of all friends?' "'I suppose,' he said, 'you know of your sister's marriage?' "'No, indeed! I do not!—which sister?' "He told me. "'But to whom is she married?' I cried out with intense impatience, and wondering greatly that he had not told me this at once. "'Sir William De Lancey was the person,' he answered. But he spoke not in the joyous tone that befits such communications. "'God bless me!' I exclaimed. 'I am delighted to hear that. I know him well—we picked him up in a boat, at sea, after the battle of Corunna, and I brought him home in my cabin in the Endymion. I see by the despatch, giving an account of the late victory, that he was badly wounded—how is he now? I observe by the postscript to the Duke's letter that strong hopes are entertained of his recovery.' "'Yes,' said my friend, 'that was reported, but could hardly have been believed. Sir William was mortally wounded, and lived not quite a week after the action. The only comfort about this sad matter is, that his poor wife, being near the field at the time, joined him immediately after the battle, and had the melancholy satisfaction of attending her husband to the last!'" It was, as before stated, at Captain Hall's request that Lady De Lancey wrote the memorable Waterloo narrative. In order to satisfy the natural curiosity of friends—who had probably heard of the narrative in Captain Hall's possession—Lady De Lancey prepared an abridged version, in more general terms, and of a much more reserved character than the original account, written for her brother only. This condensed account was found amongst the papers of her nephew, General De Lancey Lowe, after his death in 1880. His widow published it in the Illustrated Naval and Military Magazine for 1888, p. 414. In some few instances this abridged account contains descriptive touches not given in the original narrative. These variations are given in the form of notes to the present edition of the narrative. Thomas Moore in his diary for the 29th August 1824 describes the circumstances under which Captain Hall lent him his copy of the narrative as follows:— "A note early from Lord Lansdowne, to say that Capt. Basil Hall, who is at Bowood, wishes much to see me; and that if I cannot come over to-day to either luncheon or dinner, he will call upon me to-morrow. Answered that I would come to dinner to-day. Walked over at five.... Company, only Capt. Basil Hall, Luttrel, and Nugent, and an ad interim tutor of Kerry's.... Hall gave me, before I came away, a journal written by his sister, Lady De Lancey, containing an account of the death of her husband at Waterloo, and her attendance upon him there, they having been but three months married. Walked home; took the narrative to bed with me to read a page or two, but found it so deeply Earl Stanhope, in his Notes of Conversations with the Duke of Wellington, p. 182, writes as follows: "I mentioned with much praise Lady De Lancey's narrative of her husband's lingering death and of her own trials and sufferings after Waterloo. The Duke told me that he had seen it—Lord Bathurst having lent it him many years ago." This conversation took place on the 12th October 1839. The two most famous literary men to whom Captain Basil Hall lent the narrative, were, however, Sir Walter Scott and Charles Dickens. Sir Walter Scott writes under date Abbotsford, 13th October 1825, that his publisher, Constable, thinks that the narrative "would add very great interest as an addition to the letters which I wrote from Paris soon after Waterloo, and certainly I would consider it as one of the most valuable Scott letter "I never read anything which affected my own feelings more strongly, or which, I am sure, would have a deeper interest on [sic] those of the public.... "Perhaps it may be my own high admiration of the contents of this heartrending diary, which makes me suppose a possibility that after such a lapse of years, the publication may possibly (as that which cannot but do the highest honour to the memory of the amiable authoress) may [sic] not be judged altogether inadmissible....—Most truly yours, "Walter Scott." Dickens letter The following is a transcript of the most remarkable passages in Dickens' letter: "Devonshire Terrace, "My dear Hall, ... "I have not had courage until last night to read Lady De Lancey's narrative, and, but for your letter, I should not have mastered it even then. One glance at it, when, through your kindness, it first arrived, had impressed me with a foreboding of its terrible truth, and I really have shrunk from it in pure lack of heart. "After working at Barnaby all day, and wandering about the most wretched and distressful streets for a couple of hours in the evening—searching for some pictures I wanted to build upon—I went at it, at about ten o'clock. To say that the reading that most astonishing and tremendous account has constituted an epoch in my life—that I shall never forget the lightest word of it—that I cannot throw the impression aside, and never saw anything so real, so touching, and so actually present before my eyes, is nothing. I am husband and wife, dead man and living woman, Emma and General Dundas, doctor and bedstead—everything and everybody (but the Prussian officer—damn him) all in one. What I have always looked upon "Of all the beautiful and tender passages—the thinking every day how happy and blest she was—the decorating him for the dinner—the standing in the balcony at night and seeing the troops melt away through the gate—and the rejoining him on his sick-bed—I say not a word. They are God's own, and should be sacred. But let me say again, with an earnestness which pen and ink can no more convey than toast and water, in thanking you heartily for the perusal of this paper, that its impression on me can never be told; that the ground she travelled (which I know well) is holy ground to me from this day; and that, please Heaven, I will tread its every foot this very next summer, to have the softened recollection of this sad story on the very earth where it was acted. "You won't smile at this, I know. When my enthusiasms are awakened by such things, they don't wear out....—Faithfully yours, "Charles Dickens." Many literary and artistic masterpieces have grouped themselves round Waterloo. One of the most striking passages in Vanity Fair refers to an imaginary incident in connection with the battle. Sir Walter Scott once said that in the whole range of English poetry there was nothing finer than the stanzas in Childe Harold, commencing with the line— "There was a sound of revelry by night," and ending with the words— "Rider and horse, friend, foe, in one red burial blent." Tennyson's Ode on the Death of the Duke of Wellington ranks as a funeral dirge with Lycidas and Adonais. Napoleon's tomb in the Invalides may hold its own almost with the TÀj. Yet, when all is said and done, the fact remains that no hero of the battle, and indeed few victims of war, have ever received a more touching memorial than the one here set forth in the sight of all future generations of men by the love and the literary genius of Lady De Lancey. B.R. Ward. Halifax, N.S., Colonel Sir William Howe De Lancey |