The Waterloo medal to Lieutenant John F. Breton, Royal Horse Artillery, the junior Lieutenant of Mercer’s troop at Waterloo where he had three horses shot under him

Waterloo 1815 (Lieut. John F. Breton, Royal Horse Artillery) fitted with original steel clip and ring suspension, together with his original George III parchment commission as Second Lieutenant in the Royal Horse Artillery, dated 1 October 1808, correction to initial, some light contact marks to the obverse, otherwise nearly extremely fine and a rare officer’s medal to this famous troop £6000-8000

Besides Captain Mercer himself, “G” troop had one Second Captain and three First Lieutenants, just five officers in total, Breton being the most junior.

John F. Breton was born in Jamaica on 25 September 1791, became a Cadet in 1806, and entered the Royal Artillery on 10 October 1808, at the age of 17, as a Second Lieutenant. He was promoted to First Lieutenant on 15 March 1811, and served in the West Indies until 1814. Breton then served in Captain Cavalié Mercer’s “G” Troop of Royal Horse Artillery in the Waterloo Campaign. He retired on half pay in 1820, married in 1825, having issue three sons, and died at Lyndhurst, on 17 March 1852.

Mercer’s “G” Troop became immortalised for its services at Waterloo through the publication of his “Journal of the Waterloo Campaign” which is considered one of the classic accounts of this famous battle. The troop came in for the hottest part of the battle on Waterloo Day, and suffered considerably in loss of men and horses. Sir George Wood, R.A., paid the battery a visit on that afternoon and was surprised to find so many cannon balls whizzing round his ears. “Damn it, Mercer,” he exclaimed, “you seem to be having a hot time of it here.” Hot it was for all parties concerned, but the gallant way in which the gunners worked their guns kept the French cavalry from reaching the infantry squares behind Mercer’s battery. Mercer’s own description of the state of his troop at the end of the battle amply summarises the hot action they saw in the centre of the line fending off the French cavalry:

‘Our situation was indeed terrible: of 200 fine horses with which we had entered the battle, upwards of 140 lay dead, dying, or severely wounded. Of the men, scarcely two-thirds of those necessary for four guns remained, and these so completely exhausted as to be incapable of further exertion. Lieutenant Breton had three horses killed under him; Lieutenant Hincks was wounded in the breast by a spent ball; Lieutenant Leathes on the hip by a splinter; and although untouched myself, my horse had no less than eight wounds, one of which – a graze on the fetlock joint – lamed him for ever. Our guns and carriages were, as before mentioned, altogether in a confused heap, intermingled with dead and wounded horses, which it had not been possible to disengage from them. My poor men, such at least as were untouched, fairly worn out, their clothes, faces, etc., blackened by the smoke and spattered over with mud and blood, had seated themselves on the trails of the carriages, or had thrown themselves on the wet and polluted soil, too fatigued to think of anything but gaining a little rest.’

One particular anecdote taken from Mercer’s journal concerns the loss of Lieutenant Breton’s third mount of the day:

‘Lieutenant Breton, who had already lost two horses and had mounted a troop-horse, was conversing with me during this our leisure moment. As his 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 forward, resting my arm between his ears. In this attitude a cannon-shot smashed the horse’s head to atoms. The headless trunk sank to the ground – Breton looking pale as death, expecting, as he afterward told me, that I was cut in two.’