Journal of the Waterloo campaign, vol. 2 (of 2)

In Short

This second volume of Cavalié Mercer’s campaign journal details the British army’s march into France following the defeat of Napoleon in 1815. It captures the quiet intervals, the devastation left by allied Prussian forces, the elaborate spectacle of returning monarchs, and the everyday rhythms of occupying a foreign capital. Mercer observes the resilience of ordinary French citizens, the friction among allied troops, and the administrative headaches of managing a neglected artillery troop. The work endures because it offers an unvarnished, deeply human window into the aftermath of war, far removed from grand strategic histories.

The Story

The narrative opens with the British army pushing forward through blockaded roads, narrow village streets, and shifting rural landscapes. As the troops traverse regions toward the capital, the character of the country insensibly changes from traditional thatched farmhouses and orchards to structured streets and stately stone architecture. Mercer records the stark contrast between these orderly French settings and the sickening devastation left behind in the wake of allied Prussian bivouacs, where half-extinguished fires, broken remnants, and trampled mire reveal the grim underbelly of military operations.

Setting up camp near Paris, first in orchards around Colombes and later moving to other quarters, Mercer and his men experience a strange mixture of tension and prolonged inactivity. They listen to the distant, continuous thunder of cannon fire and wait anxiously for orders, only to find themselves resting in tranquil rural enclaves while political negotiations unfold. The arrival of King Louis XVIII provides a vivid public spectacle; the royal cortège is delayed by local clergy delivering long harangues, while young gentlemen of the Royal Garde de Corps escort the monarch through cheering crowds.

As the occupation solidifies, Mercer makes frequent excursions into Paris, capturing its unique atmosphere. He admires the sweeping avenues, the view from Mont Valerien, the vast resources of the public library, and the airy elegance of dining at establishments like Hardi’s. At the same time, he observes the bustling public squares filled with a cosmopolitan array of allied officers—Russian, Prussian, Austrian, and British—and watches grand military reviews where European sovereigns interact with striking familiarity.

Beneath the sightseeing and pageantry lie persistent internal trials. Mercer struggles with a disorganized troop plagued by sore-backed horses, administrative neglect inherited from a deceased predecessor, and the heavy-handed discipline required to restore order. He deals with the daily friction of military occupation, including strained relations with local innkeepers over disputed bills and the physical discomforts of shifting quarters.

The journal follows the gradual descent into winter as the occupying forces prepare to withdraw. By late 1815 and early 1816, Mercer and his troops march out of France through towns like Grandvilliers and Poix, navigating freezing weather, unaccommodating hosts, and the lingering social friction of a departing foreign army. The account concludes with the return journey toward the coast, leaving behind an indelible portrait of Europe in transition.

How It Unfolds

• The advance through rural France: The narrative begins with the army navigating blocked roads and observing the changing architecture of French villages as they march steadily toward the capital.
• The discovery of allied devastation: Mercer encounters the repulsive remnants of Prussian bivouacs, contrasting the romanticized notions of war with the sordid reality of plundered terrain.
• The royal procession: The journal captures the pageantry of King Louis XVIII’s return, marked by enthusiastic local crowds and elaborate welcomes from royalist officers.
• The exploration of Paris: Mercer visits the architectural and cultural landmarks of the French capital, detailing its open-air restaurants, grand libraries, and bustling street life.
• The friction of administration: The middle chapters focus on the daily administrative burdens of managing a troubled artillery troop, dealing with sore horses, and maintaining discipline.
• The winter retreat: The book closes with the army's cold, arduous march out of France in early 1816, highlighting the quiet exhaustion of the occupying forces.

The People

Cavalié Mercer serves as the observant, reflective narrator and commander of the 9th Brigade Royal Artillery, seeking professional competence and intellectual diversion amidst the tedium of occupation while wrestling with the administrative disarray left by his predecessor, poor Bean.

His fellow officers, including Leathes, Hitchins, and Surgeon Ambrose, share in his daily routines, long horseback explorations, and ambulatory breakfasts of cold salt-beef and biscuits, often providing lighthearted companionship or impulsive comic relief.

King Louis XVIII appears as the dignified, patient focal point of royalist restoration, enduring lengthy ecclesiastical speeches and welcoming foreign military officers with profuse gratitude.

Czar Alexander of Russia moves through the narrative as a commanding, highly visible sovereign, leading military reviews and greeting fellow leaders with casual familiarity.

Finally, the French peasantry and Parisian populace emerge collectively as a resilient, surprisingly cheerful group who, despite military defeat and property ruin, turn public holidays and royal processions into vibrant social spectacles.

In Its Own Voice

Of all disgusting objects in the world, there is perhaps none more so than the deserted bivouac—the ground everywhere covered with half-extinguished fires, broken jugs, &c., bits of rags, shreds of uniforms, straw trampled in the miry soil, remnants of food of all sorts, &c.

Reflecting on the stark contrast between romanticized military history and the sordid physical reality left behind by passing armies.

I could scarcely persuade myself that the gay throng passing before me was the same that, after being accustomed for a quarter of a century to look upon themselves as invincible, then twice within a twelvemonth saw themselves humbled to the dust... yet, nothing daunted, on they went, laughing, chatting, and even singing, in the gayest of all possible moods.

Describing the astonishing resilience and festive demeanor of the Parisian crowds turning out to greet their monarch.

The Emperor of Russia himself gave the word of command, marched past at the head of the column, and saluted.

Capturing the grand scale and direct participation of European sovereigns during the allied military reviews in Paris.

What It's Really About

The book explores the jarring dissonance between the grand geopolitical spectacle of fallen empires and the mundane, day-to-day realities faced by occupying soldiers. It questions the true cost of war by contrasting the romantic ideals of military glory with the sordid devastation of bivouacs and the administrative neglect of an exhausted army. Furthermore, it examines human resilience and national character, showing how ordinary citizens and soldiers alike adapt, endure, and seek normalcy amidst profound political upheaval.

Why Read It Today

Readers who love rich, granular historical detail and authentic personal narratives will find this journal deeply rewarding. It reads not as a dry military history, but as an intimate travelogue written by a sharp-eyed observer with an artist's eye for light, landscape, and human eccentricity. It feels remarkably immediate, pulling you directly into the saddle for cold morning rides and lively Parisian excursions.

Modern readers should be prepared for period attitudes, occasional administrative tedium, and the raw, unpolished nature of nineteenth-century military life. Yet these very qualities make the book authentic. What stays with you long after closing the volume is Mercer's vivid imagery—the quiet serenity of an orchard camp at dawn contrasted with the bustling, complex tapestry of a defeated yet irrepressible France.