Captain

Alexander Cavalie Mercer

Royal Horse Artillery

Famous for his account of the part his troop played in the Waterloo campaign entitled “Journal of the Waterloo Campaign” published in 1870 after his death. Born 1783, the son of a General in the Royal Engineers. Commissioned as a lieutenant in the Royal Regiment of Artillery in 1799. Promoted Captain 1806. Served in the disastrous South American campaign in 1807, but missed the Peninsular War entirely. Commanded G Troop Royal Horse Artillery at Waterloo. Posted to Canada in 1824. Rose eventually to the rank of Major General in 1854. Retired to Cowley Hill near Exeter. Died 1868.

 

Here are some extracts from his extraordinary account, which is in our opinion, unsurpassed by a piece of military literature of its type…...

 

 “The cavalry column now once more mounted the plateau. On they came in compact squadrons, one behind the other, so numerous that those at the rear were still below the brow when the head of the column was but at some sixty to seventy yards from our guns. Their pace was a slow steady trot. None of your furious galloping charges was this, but a deliberate advance, at a deliberate pace, as of men resolved to carry their point. They moved in profound silence, and the only sound which could be heard from them amidst the incessant roar of battle was the low thunder-like reverberation of the ground beneath the simultaneous tread of so many horses. On our part was equal deliberation. Every man stood steadily at his post, the guns ready, loaded with a round shot first and a case shot over it; the tubes were in the vents; the portfires glared and sputtered behind the wheels; and my word alone was wanted to hurl destruction on that goodly show of gallant men and noble horses. I delayed this, for experience had given me confidence. The Brunswickers partook of this feeling, and with their squares much reduced in size – well closed, stood firmly, with arms at the recover, and eyes fixed on us, ready to commence their fire with our first discharge. It was indeed a grand and imposing spectacle! The column was led on this time by an officer in a rich uniform, his breast covered with decorations, whose earnest gesticulations were strangely contrasted with the solemn demeanour of those to whom they were addressed. I thus allowed them to advance unmolested until the head of the column might have been about fifty or sixty yards from us, and then gave the word “Fire!” The effect was terrible. Nearly the whole leading rank fell at once; and the round shot, penetrating the column carried confusion throughout its extent. The ground, already encumbered with the victims of the first struggle, became now almost impassable. Still, however, these devoted warriors struggled on, intent only on reaching us. The thing was impossible. Our guns were served with astonishing activity, whilst the running fire of the two squares was maintained with spirit. Those who pushed forward over the heaps of carcasses of men and horses gained but a few paces in advance, there to fall in their turn and add to the difficulties of those succeeding them. The discharge of every gun was followed by a fall of men and horses like that of grass before a mower’s scythe. When the horse alone was killed, we could see the cuirassiers divesting themselves of the encumbrance and making their escape on foot. Still, for a moment, the confused mass (for all order was at an end) stood before us, vainly trying to urge their horses over the obstacles presented by their fallen comrades, in obedience to the now loud and rapid vociferations of him who had led on and remained unhurt. As before, many cleared everything and rode through us; many came plunging forward only to fall, man and horse, close to the muzzles of our guns.”

 

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“Lieutenant Breton’s horse stood at right angles to mine. The poor jaded animal dozingly rested his muzzle on my thigh, whilst I, the better to hear amidst the infernal din, leant forwards resting my arm between his ears. Suddenly a cannon shot smashed the horse’s head to atoms. The headless trunk sank to the ground. Breton looked pale as death.

 

We suddenly became aware of a most destructive flanking fire from a French battery which had established itself on a knoll only about 400-500 yards a little in advance of our left flank. The rapidity and precision of this fire were quite appalling. Almost every shot took effect and I certainly expected we should all be annihilated. The shot plunged right amongst us, knocking the horses down by pairs and creating horrible confusion. The drivers could hardly extricate themselves from one dead horse ere another fell. The saddle bags, in many instances, were torn from the horses’ back and their contents scattered over the field. One shell I saw explode under the two finest wheel horses in the troop – down they dropped. In some instances the horses of a gun or ammunition wagon remained and all their drivers were killed. The whole livelong day had cost us nothing like this. Our gunners too, the few that were left fit for duty, were so exhausted that they were unable to run up the guns after firing. Consequently at every round they retreated nearer to the limbers and, as we had pointed our two left guns towards the people who were annoying us so terribly, they soon came altogether in a confused heap, the trails crossing each other, and dangerously near the limbers and ammunition wagons, some of which were totally unhorsed. Many of the horses lay dead in their harnesses attached to their carriages. I sighed for my poor troop – it was already but a wreck.

 

 

Mercer’s G Troop Royal Horse Artillery

in action against French cavalry at Waterloo

 

by Ray Kirkpatrick © Waterloo Battlefield Tours

The only known picture of

Captain Mercer

Grave of Captain Mercer

(Cowley, Exeter)

Through the smoke a black speck caught my eye, and I instantly knew what it was. The conviction that one never sees a shot coming towards you unless directly in its line flashed across my mind, together with the certainty that my doom was sealed. I had barely time to exclaim “Here it is then!” – … whush it went past my face, striking the point of my pelise collar.

 

A shell with a long fuse came slop into the mud at my feet, and there lay fizzing and flaring, to my infinite discomfiture…..There I stood endeavouring to look quite composed until the cursed thing burst – and, strange to say, without injuring me, though so near.”

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