CHAPTER XIV WATERLOO

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[NOTE.—Controversy has raged over almost every point of the Waterloo campaign. Matters of fact have been disputed, whether or not given things happened, and if they did happen, when and how. Still more naturally have questions of inference and judgment been disputed, under the influence of partisanship, or supposed patriotism, or preconceived ideas. I have deemed it unnecessary to enter into any of these controversies. I have narrated the facts as I believe them to have occurred, without citing evidence, and have left doubtful inferences to the reader. To have done more would have been inconsistent with the scope of this book.]

The combined efforts of the great powers of Europe overthrew Napoleon early in the year 1814. In spite of amazing efforts on his part, the allied armies marched to Paris; and the emperor, finding himself almost deserted, was compelled to abdicate. The allied powers made the great mistake, as events proved, of allowing him to take possession in full sovereignty of the little island of Elba. A man of more chivalrous spirit would probably have felt that it was a mockery to call him emperor of so minute an empire, and would have preferred to disappear entirely from the observation of a world in which he had risen to so vast a height and fallen so decisively. Napoleon took his small kingdom seriously, and seems to have been contented for a time, until reports of the state of affairs in France led him to think that he might recover his throne. The legitimate line of the Bourbon kings had been restored on Napoleon's overthrow, in the person of Louis XVIII., brother of the king executed in 1793. How far this restoration was acceptable at the time to the French nation as a whole it is difficult to judge. Certainly the knot of selfish politicians who seized the opportunity of speaking in the name of France desired it for their own ends. Certainly also the allied sovereigns, who for the moment held the fate of France in their hands, most or all of them thought it the most desirable course in the interests of Europe generally. But the Bourbons, like their English forerunners in disaster, had learned nothing and forgotten nothing. The great mass of Frenchmen had no wish to lose the great fruits of the Revolution, abolition of aristocratic privilege, limitation of the royal authority, curtailment of the vast influence of the clergy. Still less were they willing to see the crown and the royalist exiles resume possession of the lands of which they had been deprived, and which had mostly been sold to new owners. Least of all were they inclined to allow the rejection, in favour of the Bourbon white flag, of the tricolour which was the emblem alike of the liberty and equality won by the Revolution, and of the military glories won by Napoleon. The king himself seems to have been at least willing to abide by the constitution he had proclaimed, and to accept the great social results of the Revolution; but his brother and destined successor, and many of the restored exiles, made no secret of their desire to revert to the ancien rÉgime. Naturally a large amount of discontent was engendered, and of this Napoleon took advantage to try his luck once more. On March 1, 1815, he landed near Cannes with a few hundred followers. The population of the provinces through which his way to Paris lay were on the whole favourable, more so probably than the average of the whole of France. The soldiers could nowhere be induced to fight against the emperor; and many of the officers, though by no means all, set them the example of defection. The king fled into Belgium, and Napoleon marched to Paris in triumph, and resumed the government without a blow.

The allied powers however were in no mind to see their vast sacrifices thrown away, and to allow Napoleon the chance of once more consolidating his power in France, and beginning a fresh series of wars of aggression. Their representatives were still assembled in congress at Vienna, occupied in the difficult task of resettling Europe after the universal removing of landmarks which had been produced by the recent wars. They at once declared Napoleon a public enemy, and began preparations for launching enormous hosts against him. Months must pass before, in the then state of roads and modes of locomotion, a single Russian soldier could be seen on the French frontier. A shorter, but still considerable, interval must elapse before the Austrian armies could take the field. But England was only across the narrow seas, and Prussia held great territories on the Rhine. Accordingly these two powers, acting in concert, poured their troops, one army under Wellington, the other under Blucher, into the new kingdom of the Netherlands, which had but recently formed part of Napoleon's empire. From the Belgian frontier starts the easiest and shortest line of invasion of France, assuming invasion to be directed at the capital. And the intention was that the English and Prussian armies should take this route, when the Austrians had reached the eastern frontier, and the Russians were getting within supporting distance. Napoleon no doubt realised that his game was lost if his enemies once gathered in their irresistible numbers. At any rate he saw plainly enough that his best chance lay in defeating his opponents piecemeal. Could he succeed in destroying the Anglo-Prussian army, the other powers might be intimidated, or possibly bribed, into letting him alone. The indications are that this would never have happened; the Czar would probably have receded before nothing but overwhelming defeat, and the overthrow of Wellington and Blucher would not have meant the annihilation of the power of Prussia, still less of Great Britain. Nevertheless Napoleon had a chance in this way, and in no other, and he proceeded to try it with characteristic vigour and resolution, though with less than his usual skill and care when the actual stress came.

In order that the campaign may be understood, of which Waterloo was the climax, it must be always remembered that political reasons rendered it essential for Napoleon to assume the offensive in spite of inferior numbers, and offered every inducement to the allies to await attack, and also that this gave Napoleon the great strategical advantage of the initiative. The allies had to guard the Belgian frontier; he could select his own point for invasion. Accordingly the allies occupied a line from east to west, some thirty miles south of Brussels, and a little north of the actual frontier. The Prussians on the eastern half lay chiefly on the north side of the Meuse and its tributary the Sambre.

Wellington's army was only a third English, another third being Dutch-Belgians of very poor quality and doubtful fidelity,[72] the remainder Germans, some of them excellent troops, the rest mere recruits. He covered the western part of the frontier, as was natural, seeing that he drew his supplies from England by the Belgian ports of Ostend and Antwerp. The two armies met just south of Brussels, near Charleroi, where a main road crosses the Sambre. The allies could not of course know by what route Napoleon, if he assumed the offensive, as was probable, would enter Belgium. They therefore had to watch the whole line; and partly for this reason, partly for convenience of subsistence, they quartered their forces over a space of country fully 100 miles in length from east to west. On the Prussian side, where the rivers formed a protection, and where there was less reason to expect attack, the troops were comparatively near the frontier line. On the English side none except outposts were close to the frontier, and some were at least thirty miles behind it.

Napoleon could bring into the field about 125,000 men, practically all veterans commanded by excellent officers, though the successive re-organisations after his first overthrow and on his restoration had left it lacking in the perfect mutual confidence of officers and men which makes a veteran army so formidable. Of these nearly 24,000 were cavalry; and there were 344 field guns. The Prussians under Blucher were not much inferior in numbers to the French, about 121,000, but their proportion of cavalry (12,000) and guns (312) was lower, and the quality of part at least of the army inferior. Wellington had about 94,000 men, of whom over 14,000 were cavalry, with 196 guns, but, as has been said before, barely half[73] of them were really trustworthy troops. Thus Napoleon was nearly equal to his opponents in number of cavalry, but was outmatched in guns in the proportion of about three to two, and in infantry by at least seven to four, though the superior quality of his troops went some way towards compensating for this inequality. He had the further advantage of unity of command, while the armies of the allies not only were separate, with no further concert of action than what the voluntary accord of the chiefs might establish, but drew their supplies from opposite directions, the Prussians from the Rhine, the English from the Belgian ports. Both sides seem to have been fairly well informed as to the strength of the other. Napoleon also had information as to the position of the allied troops, nor were Wellington and Blucher quite in the dark when the French troops concentrated on the frontier, skilfully as Napoleon had arranged their movements, though they could not at first be certain what was real attack, what feint.

Napoleon had practically a choice between two plans. He might invade Belgium on the west, opposite the right of Wellington's widely divided army, and by advancing northwards cut Wellington off from his communication with the sea. This was what Wellington expected; he was very anxious about his supplies, being probably more than doubtful whether his army would find subsistence if compelled to depend on the Prussians, who had quite enough to do in supplying their own army. A corresponding movement on the left of the Prussians was obviously possible, but for many reasons not worth Napoleon's while. The alternative plan, which he adopted, and which all critics consider to have been the best open to him, was to concentrate his army due south of Brussels, at the nearest point to that capital, and cross the Sambre at Charleroi, which would bring him on the point where the English and Prussian armies met. Napoleon knew that the Prussian forces were less dispersed, and generally nearer the frontier than those of Wellington. He therefore calculated that if, as was probable, Blucher concentrated his army for battle, it would be at a point comparatively near to Charleroi, and that Wellington could not be in time to give him serious assistance. He further calculated that Blucher, if defeated, would retreat eastwards in the direction of his proper line of communication, and that then Wellington ought to be an easy prey to the French army, superior in both numbers and quality.

Accordingly Napoleon issued orders that his whole army should move at dawn on June 15, and cross the Sambre at or near Charleroi. At the same time he ordered slight demonstrations to be made much further west, in the neighbourhood of Mons, in order that Wellington might be kept as long as possible in doubt as to what Napoleon's real purpose was. Ziethen, who commanded the Prussian corps nearest to Charleroi, had unaccountably taken no steps to destroy the bridges over the Sambre, which would have delayed the French greatly: but he disputed their advance with much skill and pertinacity, and slowly retired north-eastwards to Fleurus. Blucher had on the night of June 14, on receiving certain tidings that the French were in great force beyond the Sambre, ordered his whole army to concentrate at Sombref, four or five miles behind Fleurus, at the point where the road from Charleroi crosses the great high-road that runs a little north of west from Namur to Nivelles, and thence towards the coast. It was at this point that it had been agreed between the allies, some weeks before, that the Prussians should concentrate in case of an advance by Napoleon, which they then thought improbable. One of the four Prussian corps, that of Bulow, was at a great distance, and failed to arrive in time; but those of Pirch and Thielemann duly joined Ziethen. On the 16th Blucher, with nearly 90,000 men, took up a position at Ligny, a mile or so south of the great Namur road, and awaited attack. Napoleon's intention had been to bring his whole army across the Sambre on the 15th, to occupy Fleurus in force, in anticipation of battle with Blucher, and to send a detachment to Quatre-Bras, where the Charleroi-Brussels road crosses the Namur-Nivelles road, in order to intercept the main line of communication between Wellington and Blucher. This was only approximately carried out: at nightfall, some French divisions were still on the wrong side of the Sambre. Quatre-Bras was found to be occupied, and the French left therefore did not go beyond Frasne, two or three miles to the south; and Ziethen's rear-guard still held Fleurus. The difference was of no serious consequence, the less so as the allied generals played into Napoleon's hands, Blucher by committing himself to battle with only three-fourths of his army and with no assurance of assistance from his colleague, Wellington by his slowness in concentrating his army. The English general, ill served as to intelligence, only heard the news of the French advance in the afternoon: even then, slow to abandon his belief that Napoleon would try to cut him off from the sea, he only warned his troops to be ready. In the evening he ordered concentration on Nivelles, and not till the morning of the 16th did he direct movements on Quatre-Bras.[74]

On the morning of June 16 Napoleon was in no hurry to move. He had entrusted Ney with the command of his left wing, and given him orders to attack the English at Quatre-Bras. There was much delay, which seems attributable partly to Ney's doing nothing to hasten the march (he had only joined the army on the 15th and had no staff), and partly to the remissness of the corps commanders, Reille and D'Erlon. About two o'clock however he began, with Reille's corps only, the battle of Quatre-Bras. It was extremely fortunate for Wellington that Ney had not moved earlier, for the position at daybreak was only held by one brigade, and it was but slowly that fresh troops came up. At first the French seemed likely to carry all before them: the Dutch-Belgian troops suffered severely, and some of them fled. No reader of Vanity Fair can have forgotten Thackeray's description of the panic caused in Brussels by the arrival of these fugitives, reporting that the allied army was cut to pieces. The Brunswick division was also broken for the time, and their duke killed.[75] But reinforcements came up in succession, and Wellington, who was on the field in person, grew relatively stronger as evening approached, and foiled every effort Ney made. Why Ney did not make greater efforts, why especially he made so little use of his cavalry, of which arm Wellington had very few on the field, is hard to say. Possibly his Peninsular experiences made him feel convinced that Wellington would not risk a battle without adequate strength. Certainly the woods interfered with his seeing fully the amount of Wellington's force. The absence of D'Erlon's corps was, as will appear presently, no fault of his, except so far as he was responsible for not having brought D'Erlon up to the front in the morning. At any rate he failed: at nightfall on the 16th the French were at Frasne, the English at Quatre-Bras, as they had been on the night of the 15th; only each side had lost between 4000 and 5000 men, the English rather more than the French.

Meanwhile Napoleon had taken for granted that Ney would be able to dislodge the English,[76] and had not only told him how far to advance on the Brussels road, but had also ordered him to despatch part of his troops, as soon as Quatre-Bras was occupied, down the Namur road, to co-operate in his own attack on the Prussians. He had waited until Ney was engaged before beginning his own battle, which he did not doubt winning, and hoped by Ney's aid to render decisive. On the Prussian left Thielemann's corps covered the road to Namur: the centre and right, formed by Ziethen's corps, with Pirch in second line, were thrown forward almost at a right angle to the left, behind the villages of Ligny and St. Amand, so as to cover the same road further west, by which communication was to be kept up with Wellington. The duke had seen Blucher in the morning, and had promised to assist the Prussians if not himself attacked. Thus both French and Prussians were hoping at least for help from Quatre-Bras, which neither combatant there was in any condition to afford. Napoleon decided to begin by assailing the Prussian right: for this he had every motive, as it was unprotected by any natural obstacle, and success there would not only tend to separate Blucher from Wellington, but would also drive Blucher to retreat towards Namur, which Napoleon naturally desired. His plan however aimed at a much more decisive stroke. He had determined, after the Prussian right had been shaken by some hours of fighting, to assail the centre with his reserve. If that attack succeeded, and one of Ney's corps took the Prussians in rear, as was to be done when Quatre-Bras had been won, half of the Prussian army would be virtually surrounded, and must either be destroyed or surrender. The fighting all through was of a most desperate character, but the French had, on the whole, the best of it, and Napoleon was preparing for his attack on the centre, when the news that a considerable body of troops were in sight a couple of miles or so on his left, naturally caused him to wait. They might be Wellington's, in which case caution was obviously expedient: they might be Ney's expected succour appearing in the wrong place, in which case time would be needed for them to work round the flank of the Prussians. It had just been ascertained that the approaching troops were French, when they suddenly halted and began to return the way they had come. They were D'Erlon's corps, which had been on their way to join Ney, and had been directed towards the field of Ligny, apparently by a staff officer who thought he was rightly interpreting Napoleon's wishes. Ney, on hearing what had happened, very properly recalled D'Erlon: his orders were to dislodge the English from Quatre-Bras, which he could not do without D'Erlon's troops, and then, but not till then, to reinforce Napoleon. The result however was that D'Erlon's corps wasted the day in marching to and fro, and took part in neither battle, though its active co-operation ought to have been decisive on either field.

Sunset was approaching, and Napoleon, seeing that it was too late to send effective orders after D'Erlon, made his attack on the Prussian centre as before arranged. Its success gave him an undoubted victory, but dearly bought, and not overwhelming. The Prussians were able to retreat unmolested under cover of the darkness, leaving behind them over 20,000 men, killed, wounded and prisoners, or about a third of the two corps, Ziethen's and Pirch's, on which the stress of the fighting had fallen. The French army bivouacked on the field how they could: their loss had amounted to 11,000 or 12,000 men.

Thus up to nightfall on June 16 Napoleon had gained considerable success. He had attained his first object, of engaging and defeating Blucher before Wellington could come to his assistance, and might reasonably expect to attain his second object, of attacking Wellington with his main force while separated from the Prussians, in which case with a superior army he ought to win a decisive victory. That more had not been achieved was due to the delay on the French left, which neutralised the advantage resulting from Wellington's undue slowness in concentrating his army. As often happens in war, one mistake but cancelled the other. On the 17th most part of the advantage which the French possessed over the allies was lost, largely by Napoleon's own fault, partly by the loyal co-operation of Blucher and Wellington. Critics who treat war like a game of chess, and forget that soldiers are men who must eat and sleep, say that Napoleon ought to have started at daybreak, to take Wellington at Quatre-Bras in flank, while Ney renewed the attack in front. But the emperor himself was exhausted by two extremely long and fatiguing days: nor could even the troops that had taken but little part in a battle ending at 9.30 p.m. be expected to be in marching order again in six hours. Napoleon made the grievous mistake of taking for granted two things, both of them likely, but neither of them in fact true. First he more or less assumed that Wellington, informed of the result of the battle of Ligny, would have retreated, leaving only a rearguard at Quatre-Bras; if this were so, there was no use in Napoleon's trying to attack him. As a matter of fact, Wellington did not receive the news of Ligny till the morning of the 17th, and he then waited to exchange communications with Blucher before ordering a retreat, for which there was no immediate hurry, unless the French resumed the offensive. Napoleon's other and far more disastrous mistake was taking for granted that Blucher had retreated on Namur, that is to say straight away from his ally. As a matter of fact the Prussians were retreating northwards on Wavre, true to the general agreement between Blucher and Wellington that they would co-operate as thoroughly as possible; and since that movement was ordered, news had come from Wellington that he was on the point of retreating on Waterloo, and would stand to fight there if assured of assistance from one Prussian corps. Napoleon had plenty of cavalry available, for Ligny was essentially an infantry battle, and certainly ought to have pushed cavalry along every road by which the Prussians could possibly have retreated. If they were gone eastwards, as he hoped and believed, all was plain sailing: if they were gone north, they might still unite with Wellington, and the game was by no means won. As it was, he contented himself with one reconnaissance along the Namur road, which confirmed him in his error by capturing a few stragglers, and so threw away the advantages gained already by his skilfully-devised plan of campaign.

In the course of the morning of the 17th, Wellington withdrew his forces from Quatre-Bras, and retreated to the position at Waterloo which he had noted the year before, as an excellent one for a defensive battle to protect Brussels. In the afternoon heavy rain came on, which lasted all night, soaking the ground, seriously injuring the roads, and thus interfering with the march of the French, who followed at some distance. By nightfall the French were in front of Wellington's position; and both armies bivouacked on the wet ground, no very favourable preparation for the work of the morrow. Before moving from Ligny with the guard and Lobau's corps, to unite them to the troops under Ney, and with the whole body follow up the retreating English, Napoleon had given his orders for the pursuit of the defeated Prussians. Marshal Grouchy was put at the head of the two corps, Vandamme's and GÉrard's, on which the stress of the fighting at Ligny had fallen, which with some cavalry amounted to about 33,000 men.

Napoleon after the event attempted to make Grouchy entirely responsible for the loss of the battle of Waterloo, and Napoleon's partisans have followed his example. A few writers have exempted Grouchy from all blame: the majority of reasonably impartial critics blame him more or less severely, though without holding Napoleon faultless. In any case the absence of Grouchy at Waterloo, without his thereby preventing Blucher from participating, was a decisive fact, however it was brought about. Hence it is necessary to understand clearly what his intentions were, and what was the discretionary power left to him. In personal conversation Napoleon told Grouchy that he was himself going to fight the English "if they will stand on this side of the forest of Soignies," and ordered him to pursue the Prussians and complete their defeat by attacking them as soon as he came up with them: and it is clear that he then still supposed the Prussians to have retreated on Namur, and therefore that the pursuit of them was not a matter of primary importance. Afterwards he heard news which implied the probability that part at least of the Prussian army might have gone further north: and he sent Grouchy written orders to take his forces to Gembloux (N.E. from Ligny), explore in the direction of Namur and of Maestricht (still further to N.E.), and find out what the Prussians were doing, whether they were or were not intending to unite with the English, to cover Brussels or LiÈge,[77] and try another battle. These orders still treat as most probable the separation of the Prussians from Wellington, but they contemplate the other possibility—they do not however tell Grouchy what to do in that event. Unfortunately for Napoleon, Grouchy was without experience in independent command, of rather limited range of ideas, and sharing the abject dread of disobeying Napoleon which cramped the energy and clouded the judgment, at times if not always, of most of his generals. He was capable enough, as he showed when left altogether to himself after the rout of Waterloo; but so long as he was under Napoleon's orders, he dared not think for himself. Grouchy accordingly marched to Gembloux: and having ascertained beyond further doubt that the Prussians had not gone to Namur, but that part of them had gone north to Wavre, and the main body as he believed north-eastward towards Maestricht, he reported this late at night to Napoleon, adding his intention to follow the enemy, if it turned out after all that they were moving on Wavre, "in order to prevent their gaining Brussels and to separate them from Wellington." As a matter of fact, the whole Prussian army had gained Wavre, in accordance with the agreement between Blucher and Wellington, in order to be able to support Wellington on the next day. That there existed between the two allied generals a substantial and hearty accord is certain enough, though Gneisenau, who was Blucher's chief of staff, always suspicious of Wellington, was inclined to doubt his sincerity, and to take care of the Prussian army only, not of the common cause. These suspicions were in fact groundless, and were very bad policy also; Gneisenau reminds one of a whist-player who plays for his own hand and will not co-operate with his partner, a style of play which is equivalent to giving the other side odds. That Gneisenau was overruled, that the co-operation was carried through to a triumphant end, was due to Marshal Blucher personally, a man far inferior to Gneisenau in military ability, but stanch to the backbone, and moreover hating the French with a keen personal hatred.

On the morning of the 18th Grouchy moved on Wavre: the hour named for starting was not a very early one, as it would have been if Grouchy had deemed time of great importance; and the troops, doubtless still feeling the effects of Ligny, in spite of an easy day's work on the 17th, were slow to get into motion. About eleven o'clock, while Grouchy was halting to eat at Walhain, about one-third of the way to Wavre, the opening cannonade of the battle of Waterloo was heard. General GÉrard at once urged him to "march towards the cannon," and a vehement discussion arose, which ended in Grouchy deciding to obey what he averred to be the emperor's orders, and continue his march on Wavre. That Grouchy ought to have crossed the Dyle at once, cannot reasonably be doubted: if Blucher gave large assistance to Wellington, the emperor must be overwhelmed, and there was no means of preventing this, if Grouchy failed in achieving it. True, Blucher might not be sending any large force across from Wavre to Waterloo, but if he were not, Grouchy would have discovered this eventually, and might have pushed on Wavre as easily from the south-west as from the south. If however, as was actually the case, the bulk of the Prussian army was moving to support Wellington and take the French in flank, there would be little compensation for Napoleon's total defeat to be derived from a slight success of Grouchy at Wavre. The marshal however could not rise to the opportunity, he dared not depart from what he understood to be the purpose of his master. And it may pretty confidently be conjectured that in a different case, had Napoleon beaten Wellington before Blucher could come up, and had Grouchy's march towards the cannon left it feasible for Blucher to unite with Wellington before Brussels, Grouchy would have been blamed without mercy.

It remains to be seen whether Grouchy, acting on GÉrard's advice, could have saved the defeat of Waterloo. He had to take 33,000 men with all their guns and ammunition waggons across the river Dyle, by two bridges, one narrow and steep, the other of wood and presumably not strong enough for artillery. He had to march fourteen or fifteen miles by very bad country roads, rendered much worse by the rain. The Prussians from Wavre had a shorter distance to go with no river to cross, and the foremost corps, Bulow's, had considerably the start: the head of his column was in sight of the battle-field when Grouchy's resolution was taken. Moreover one corps, Ziethen's, took a parallel road further to the north, entirely out of Grouchy's reach. It is pretty certain that if Grouchy had marched on Waterloo, he would have prevented Pirch's corps, which followed Bulow's, from taking part in the battle, and so would have rendered the rout a little less absolute. It is pretty certain also that Bulow need have taken no notice of him, but it is not so clear that he might not have been sufficiently disquieted by Grouchy's appearance to think it expedient to turn back and encounter him. Blucher however was with Bulow's corps, and he was eager to press forward, at whatever cost. If Napoleon had been in Blucher's place, he would have seen that the defeat of the enemy's main army was of primary importance, and would have taken his chance of Grouchy achieving some success against the Prussians left behind. It is however unprofitable to conjecture what might have been. Happily for Wellington and for Europe, Grouchy was afraid to face the responsibility, and marched on Wavre. Here, to finish his story, he encountered Thielemann's corps, left to play against him the very game which Napoleon intended him to play against the whole Prussian army, to detain and occupy as much as possible a superior force. There was some fighting on the evening of the 18th, and again on the next morning, to the advantage of the French. But when Grouchy heard of the total defeat of the emperor, he naturally thought only of regaining France. His retreat was conducted with skill and audacity, and ended, thanks to the protection afforded him in crossing the Meuse by the fortifications of Namur, in his reaching French territory with his army unbroken.

When Napoleon and Wellington stood at length face to face on the night of June 17, both were naturally anxious about the morrow, but in singularly different ways. The emperor, justly believing that his army was the better of the two, was only afraid that Wellington might yet rob him of victory by decamping in the dark; and this fear haunted him so obstinately that in the middle of the night, and again at daybreak, he rode out to satisfy his own eyes that the English army was still in position. Strangely enough he does not seem to have been at all apprehensive of the contingency which in fact happened to his ruin: he still supposed the Prussian army out of reach. On the morning of the 18th he sent a despatch to Grouchy, which accepted as the right thing to be done that general's intention of marching on Wavre. Not till eleven a.m., when the battle was on the point of beginning, did he send a regiment[78] of cavalry towards the bridges by which Grouchy would have had to cross the Dyle, as if that were a chance worth taking account of. But he took no steps to secure Grouchy's coming, till the first Prussian troops were in sight,[79] as he certainly would have done had he seriously feared Blucher taking him in flank. And this reduplication of the grievous mistake he had made on the field of Ligny was absolutely fatal.

Wellington on the other hand had fully made up his mind to fight, in spite of the great risk he ran of being overwhelmed before the Prussians could reach him, assuming always that Blucher would come to his assistance. How great that risk was, it is a little hard to realise after the event. He could have no knowledge of the amount of Grouchy's army, though he may well have guessed that Napoleon had detached some troops to observe the Prussians. For all he knew the French might be outnumbering him considerably, the more so as he still deemed it necessary to guard his right by leaving a large force at Hal, some ten or twelve miles off. Napoleon made a miscalculation, as most critics think, in giving Grouchy so large a force. If Grouchy was merely to follow up the Prussians retreating eastwards, less would suffice: if the emperor was to encounter at Waterloo the allied armies united, he needed every man. And Wellington made a similar miscalculation in leaving 18,000 men at Hal: if he was beaten at Waterloo, there would be no longer a flank to guard; if he was successful, a French detachment sent to turn his flank would have great difficulty in escaping destruction. Even on the assumption that Wellington knew the strength of the army facing him, he was outmatched so long as he stood alone: and what was his security for being supported? It has been said already that he and Blucher acted cordially together, but there was not, and could not be, a common plan of action worked out in detail. The very fact that they had to await attack, wherever Napoleon might assail them, rendered any such elaborate concert impossible. Moreover Wellington was doubtless aware that Gneisenau would be slow to take a course that endangered the Prussians. If after all the Prussians were not coming, there was yet time to retreat from an untenable position. Under the pressure of this anxiety, Wellington is said to have spent a great part of the night in riding over to Wavre and back, in order to see Blucher and make sure. Whatever passed at that interview,[80] the duke was satisfied, and on the fateful morning of the 18th, his troops stood to their arms in the stations already assigned to them.

The field of Waterloo has probably been visited by more travellers than any other battle-field in the world: but its aspect has been changed in some respects since 1815, so that the description to be given of it will not be found to tally exactly with what is to be seen to-day. Wellington's army was posted on a slight ridge, running about east and west, and occupied a front of over two miles. The ridge is crossed about the centre of the position by the high road from Charleroi to Brussels, and a country road runs along it, a little below the top on the southern side. Less than three miles to the northward the Brussels road enters the forest of Soignies; and Wellington calculated that this would protect him in case of defeat. There were roads enough to withdraw the artillery, &c.; and the forest, being thick but free of underwood, would present no obstacle to infantry retiring, and would assist them in keeping off pursuit. At the extreme western end of the ridge lies a small village called Merbe Braine, somewhat sunk in a hollow: this protected Wellington's extreme right from being easily turned. The front of his right was covered by the chÂteau of Hougomont, a good-sized country house with gardens and orchard, enclosed by a wall. This lay down in the valley separating the two armies; and it is obvious that no attack could be made on Wellington's right unless the assailants had first seized this chÂteau, while on the other hand their possession of Hougomont would have given them great facilities for further advance. Similarly, in advance of Wellington's left, lay two farms, La Haye and Papelotte, and a little hamlet called Smohain, but the ground gave no protection to the left flank of the position. Close to the Charleroi-Brussels road, near the bottom of the slope lies the farm of La Haye Sainte; this also formed some little protection to the centre. The ground was practically all open, and the slope down into the little valley that divided the two armies before the battle not very steep, but still an unmistakable descent. The slope up the opposite side was at about the same inclination, so that the fronts of the two armies, a little over three-quarters of a mile apart, lay on two roughly parallel ridges. The English ridge was narrow enough for it to be feasible to place the troops, when not actually standing to repel attack, on the reverse or northern slope leading towards the village of Waterloo, so that they were partially sheltered from the French artillery. To complete the picture of Wellington's position, it is necessary to add that the road which runs along it leads to Ohain and thence to Wavre: this was one of the routes by which Prussian succour might come, and was in fact the road by which Ziethen arrived shortly before the close of the battle. The shortest way from Wavre, by which the first Prussians came, leads through the valley and up against the eastern end of the French line.

The position was an excellent one for defence, considering the range of artillery and infantry fire of that date, and would have fully compensated for the slight advantage of numbers which Napoleon possessed, had the quality of the two armies been equal. They were substantially equal in infantry, a little under 50,000 each: but Napoleon had 15,000 cavalry as against 12,000, and many more guns, 246 to 156. Wellington however could not place much reliance on the Dutch-Belgian contingent, nearly 18,000 strong. The sympathies of many of them were with the French, and none of them had seen service, unless perchance in the emperor's army before his first abdication. Consequently the duke thought it expedient to distribute these troops among the English and Germans: he would obviously have done better, assuming that he was convinced of the necessity of leaving a strong body at Hal, to have posted none but Dutch and Belgians there, the more so as the command at Hal was entrusted to a Dutch prince, and to have had Colville's English on the field of Waterloo.

Wellington's army was distributed as follows, the front being generally behind the country road from Wavre. On the extreme left, which was unprotected by any natural features, were two brigades of light cavalry, Vivian's and Vandeleur's. Next came two Hanoverian brigades, Vincke's and Best's: then, a little further back, Pack's brigade consisting of the 1st, 42nd, 44th and 92nd British regiments. To the right of Pack, extending as far as the high road, was Kempt's brigade, comprising the 28th, 32nd, 79th and 1st battalion 95th. A Dutch-Belgian division was posted in front of this, the left half of the line. One brigade occupied the hamlet and farms that partially protected the front: the other, Bylandt's, was posted on the slope facing the south, where it was exposed to crushing fire from the French artillery, which so shook it that early in the battle it gave way, retired in confusion over the ridge, and could be used no more. This was almost the only mistake made by Wellington in the actual tactics of the battle: one other only can be cited against him, and that as it happened was in the same part of the field. The farm of La Haye Sainte, a large courtyard with solid walls and buildings round it, just on the high road and protecting the very centre of the whole position, was garrisoned but slightly, and was not prepared for defence, nor were the troops in it supplied, as they should have been, with ample stores of ammunition. La Haye Sainte was garrisoned from one of two German brigades, Ompteda's and Kielmansegge's, which lay immediately to the right of the high road. Next to them came Sir Colin Halkett's English, these three brigades forming Count Alten's division. To the right, more or less behind Hougomont, and furnishing a great part of its garrison, was posted General Cooke's division, consisting of Maitland's and Byng's brigades of guards. To the right of the guards, Mitchell's English brigade lined the cross road which runs north-west from near Hougomont to Braine-la-Leud, a couple of miles off, where a Belgian division was posted; they thus guarded the right of the position. In rear of the guards lay Clinton's division, one brigade of which, Adam's, played a very important part in the last stage of the battle: this division was well placed to act as a reserve for any part of the line. The regular reserve of about 10,000 men, of which over one-third were cavalry, was placed a mile or so in rear of the centre. The rest of the cavalry formed a second line in rear of the right and centre, the heavy cavalry, Somerset's brigade of guards and Ponsonby's Union brigade (the Royal Dragoons, Scots Greys, and Inniskillings), being close to right and left of the high road. The artillery was not massed together after the fashion which has generally prevailed in recent wars; the field batteries were distributed along the front, in the proportion of about one battery to each brigade, and the horse artillery was similarly joined to the cavalry. It remains to add that Hougomont had been very fully prepared for defence. The entire property, about one-third of a mile square, was generally enclosed only with hedges: but the farmyard and garden adjoining the house in the north-west corner had good walls: and the orchard at the north-east had also a wall on the north, which enabled the defenders to drive the French out of the orchard again, when once they penetrated to it.

As the French army were the assailants, it is needless to describe with any particularity their original formation. The first line, consisting of D'Erlon's corps on the right, and Reille's on the left, faced the English on rather a longer extent, with their powerful artillery ranged in front of the infantry, their left being thrown rather forward so as to enwrap Hougomont. Behind were the cavalry in a double line. On the Charleroi road, in rear of the centre, Lobau's corps was drawn up in close columns. Further back again was Napoleon's guard of all arms to serve as the last reserve. About half a mile to the east of the position of the guard, nearly a mile behind the right front of the French, is the village of Planchenoit: it is obvious that when late in the battle the Prussians reached Planchenoit, they were attacking the French at a most dangerous point, as they threatened to cut off nearly the whole army, for which the Charleroi road was the only line of retreat.

If Napoleon had even surmised that one Prussian corps had started at daybreak to join Wellington, and that two others were to follow, he would assuredly have begun the battle of Waterloo some hours earlier than he in fact did. The rain had ceased in the night, but the ground was soaked, and the artillery could hardly move until it had dried a little. The emperor, confident of victory, was in no hurry. To quote his own account given at St. Helena—At eight o'clock, during his breakfast, the emperor said: "The enemy's army is superior in numbers by at least one-fourth;[81] nevertheless we have at least ninety chances in a hundred in our favour." Ney at this moment came up to announce that Wellington was in full retreat.[82] "You are mistaken," replied the emperor, "he has no longer time, he would expose himself to certain destruction." About nine o'clock the French army began to take up its position for the coming battle. Every movement was visible to the English line, and formed a superb spectacle: indeed it is suggested that Napoleon expected by this display, which continued for some two hours before the signal was given, to impress the Belgians in Wellington's army, already half-hearted to say the least. There was always a touch of the theatrical in Napoleon's character, and it came out conspicuously before this, his last battle. To Wellington, who relied for victory on the co-operation of the Prussians, still a long way off, every minute's delay must have been an additional reason for trusting that his bold venture would succeed.

The battle began at 11.30 with a cannonade along the whole line, and an attack on Hougomont made by a division of Reille's corps commanded by Napoleon's brother Jerome. It is obvious that, whatever the general plan of the battle might be, Hougomont, which projected like a bastion from Wellington's line, must be attacked, if only to prevent its garrison from firing into the flank of any columns that might assail the English centre. But it is also obvious that Hougomont, unless weakly held, could not be taken except at very great cost, and that success there would not be nearly so valuable as elsewhere. Every man lost in assailing Hougomont, beyond what was necessary for keeping the English right employed, was wasted. But Reille, and the generals under him, failed to realise this, and the whole of the corps was drawn into the conflict. The fighting was of the most desperate character, especially at first, and was renewed at intervals, but the French never succeeded in penetrating the house or walled garden. Hougomont was in fact worth many thousands of men to Wellington.

The map shows plainly that the part of Wellington's line where a successful attack would be most ruinous was near the centre. A comparatively small part of his army stood east of the high-road: if the centre could be pierced, the left might be destroyed, and the right, cut off from the great road, would have to retreat how it could, leaving the way to Brussels open, and losing all chance of connection with Blucher. Wellington's reserves were naturally behind the centre: but it was here if anywhere that the French could gain the battle, and it was here, as it happened, that Wellington had failed to utilise La Haye Sainte. During the first two hours of the battle the French merely cannonaded this part of the line: their artillery was half as strong again as the English, but the infantry were partially protected by lying down on the northern side of the ridge they held, and were not seriously shaken, except Bylandt's brigade.

About 1.30 began the first great attack on the English centre, the whole of D'Erlon's corps advancing together. Durutte's division on the right succeeded in getting temporary possession of Papelotte. Donzelot on the left seized the orchard and garden of La Haye Sainte, and a body of heavy cavalry on his left flank nearly destroyed a Hanoverian battalion that attempted to reinforce the farm. The two centre divisions, with Donzelot's second brigade on their left and a little ahead, advanced in columns of unusually close and cumbrous formation. Bylandt's brigade gave way in confusion, but Kempt's and Pack's stood firm in their places. As the French halted close to the English line, and attempted to deploy, Picton, who commanded the English division, ordered Kempt's brigade to fire a volley, and charge. Picton was shot dead, but the left column of the French was driven back in utter rout. Meanwhile Marcognet's division was pressing Pack hard, and Alix's was forcing its way between Kempt and Pack. At this juncture Lord Uxbridge ordered forward the English heavy cavalry. The household brigade charged the French cuirassiers as they came up the slope from La Haye Sainte, and completely defeated them. The Union brigade charged and drove back with great loss the French divisions which were pressing on, but which in their crowded formation were almost helpless against cavalry well led. Continuing its career, Ponsonby's brigade attacked the French artillery on the opposite slope (74 guns were here massed together), and inflicted considerable loss, but being charged in its turn by fresh French cavalry, was badly cut up. The defeat of the central columns carried with it the repulse or withdrawal of the flanks, so that this great attack attained absolutely nothing. Wellington however found it necessary to order up a brigade from his reserve, to fill the gap in his front formed by the flight of the Belgians and the losses in Kempt's and Pack's brigades.

Meanwhile Blucher had been doing his best. The country between Wavre and the battle-field is formed in rounded hills and deep hollows, traversed by mere lanes, and the soil was soft and miry from the heavy rain. At noon Bulow's leading division reached St. Lambert, the highest point on the road, whence the battle-field was visible at some four miles' distance: Napoleon within an hour ascertained that they were Prussians, and too late recognising his danger, sent off a useless despatch to summon Grouchy to his aid. He also sent some cavalry to meet the Prussians, but it was not for at least two hours more that the latter came into action. The roads naturally grew worse with use, and the artillery could scarcely be moved at all. It needed all the energy of hatred which inspired the whole Prussian army, it needed all the pressure Blucher in person could put on the soldiers, for the task to be accomplished. "Kinder, ihr wollt doch nicht dass ich wortbrÜchig werden soll," was the old marshal's often repeated appeal: and Englishmen ought never to forget it. At length Bulow was strong enough to push down into the valley, and occupy the wood of PÂris, whence he could assail Planchenoit. If he succeeded in this, the French would be defeated in a most ruinous fashion. Hence Napoleon not only sent Lobau's corps to face the Prussians, but himself attended to the new danger.

After the repulse of D'Erlon the main action languished, only the cannonade and the fighting before Hougomont continuing, till about four o'clock, when the second main attack began. Forty squadrons of heavy cavalry charged up between Hougomont and La Haye Sainte, against Alten's division, which formed promptly in squares, placed in a double line chess-board fashion, so that the maximum of fire[83] could be poured into the charging horsemen. The guns in front of the English line were necessarily abandoned, but the French could make no impression on the squares, and when in confusion were driven off by cavalry from the English reserves. Again and again the attempt was renewed with the same result, till even the English privates saw how hopeless it was. "Here come these fools again," some of them called out, as a new charge was made. And indeed it is hard to see why they were made: Wellington's line was not broken, or even shaken as yet. Probably the impatience of Ney was to blame, Napoleon being then at a distance engaged with the Prussians. At any rate the net result was the destruction of a great part of the French cavalry, at some cost to Wellington's cavalry, but not much to his infantry, except from the French guns which told with deadly effect on the squares in the intervals of the cavalry charges.

Almost before the first repulse of the French cavalry, a new infantry attack on the British centre was arranged, which was to be directed primarily on La Haye Sainte. Ney it is said asked the emperor for reinforcements, seeing how badly D'Erlon's corps had been cut up in the first attack. "Where am I to get them?" replied the emperor, "voulez-vous que j'en fasse?" In fact not only Lobau's corps, but a part of the guard, Napoleon's last reserve, had been already required to keep Blucher at bay, who assailed Planchenoit again and again, though without success. Nevertheless this attack on Wellington's centre attained a greater measure of success than any other during the day. La Haye Sainte was seized after a desperate struggle: and the French infantry, and still more their artillery, established there, nearly destroyed the third division on the left and Kempt's brigade on the right, opening a most dangerous gap in the English line. Wellington's coolness and judgment had never failed him for a moment; to demands for reinforcements he had replied again and again, "It is impossible, you must hold your ground to the last man," and nobly had the English and Germans responded to the demands made on them. Hence at this dangerous crisis there were still infantry reserves in rear of the centre, which Wellington brought up in person to restore the line, simultaneously drawing in to the centre Chasse's Belgians from behind the right, and the two light cavalry brigades from the extreme left, where Blucher's right was now in touch with Wellington through Smohain, and Ziethen's corps, coming by the upper road from Wavre, was rapidly approaching. Napoleon's last reserve, his famous old guard, must be used to make the last bid for victory. If this had been directed on the same point, for the sake of the protection afforded by La Haye Sainte, some further success might have perhaps been achieved, but by this time nothing could have saved the French from defeat. Pirch was up in rear of Bulow, who was again pressing hard on Planchenoit, and Ziethen inflicted a crushing blow on D'Erlon's corps, which advanced to attack Wellington's left by way of supporting the charge of the guard in the centre. The guard was formed in two columns: the right, somewhat in advance of the left, came up the slope to the left of La Haye Sainte, against Maitland's brigade of guards, which had hitherto had no fighting to do, and was lying down for shelter from the cannonade, which had been continued to the last moment over the heads of the advancing infantry. The crushing fire of the English guards swept away the head of this column; it fell into confusion in attempting to deploy, and an advance of Maitland drove it back in disorder. Maitland had only just time to recover his position before the left column of the old guard was upon him. Their defeat however was to come not from him, but from his right flank. Adam's brigade, originally placed in rear of the guards, had been brought forward to fill the place of Byng's brigade, which had been nearly destroyed in the defence of Hougomont during eight hours of almost incessant fighting against very superior numbers. The slope of the ground threw their line somewhat forward at an angle to Maitland's front; and Colonel Colborne, commanding the famous 52nd, wheeled his regiment a little further, so that it took the French guard in flank, stopping its advance, and throwing it into great disorder. Then was seen an illustration almost more marked than that at Albuera, of what line can do against column. Claiborne's line advancing routed the four battalions of the French guard; then continuing diagonally across the slope to the high-road came upon the other part of the guard, which had been formed up there in columns after its repulse by Maitland. Wellington, who was on the spot, having just ordered a general advance of the whole line, told Colborne to charge them, saying they would not stand. In a few minutes more the last remnants of the French arrayed against Wellington were flying in confusion. Bulow about the same time finally succeeded in seizing Planchenoit, whence his guns swept the high road that was the sole line of retreat for the French. Under the merciless pressure of the Prussian cavalry, which had not yet fought, the whole French army melted into a mob of fugitives. History hardly records so complete a dissolution of an organised army.[84] What the French loss was has never been ascertained. Nearly 15,000 killed and wounded in Wellington's army, and 7000 in Blucher's, the great majority of them taken from Bulow's corps, are sufficient evidence of the severity of the conflict.

Napoleon had played his last stake, and lost it: there is no use in following his steps as a ruined fugitive. It is however worth while to sum up the chances of the eventful day of Waterloo. Early in the morning Napoleon's prospects were excellent: Wellington's army was slightly inferior to his own in numbers, and the Belgian portion of it was not trustworthy. In consequence of the rain no Prussians could be on the field at all early. Doubtless the state of the ground would also have delayed movements of attack on Wellington's line: but if the battle had begun even at eight A.M. it is scarcely possible that Wellington could have held on till four, when first the Prussians began to be formidable. The delay in beginning threw away this advantage. Secondly Napoleon, as we have seen, miscalculated utterly about the Prussians: it was he who detached Grouchy with a force needlessly large for its supposed purpose, and failed to see in time the necessity of drawing Grouchy to his side. Thirdly the allied generals carried out tactically the purpose of co-operation with which they had begun the campaign, thus ultimately bringing almost double numbers to bear. It was Wellington's part to hold his ground, it was Blucher's to come to his assistance. How nobly the old Prussian redeemed his promise has been shown. Of Wellington it is told that he was asked to give instructions for the chance of his falling, a contingency the probability of which may be estimated from the fact that only one of his staff escaped untouched. "I have none to give," he said, "my plan is simply to hold my ground here to the last man." Lastly it is manifest that all might have failed but for the astonishing staunchness of the English and German infantry in Wellington's army. Nothing, in war or in peace, is so trying to the nerves as passively to await deadly peril, making no effort to avert it. And never probably in war was greater strain of this nature put upon troops than fell on Alten's and Picton's divisions at Waterloo. The guards and Hanoverians who held Hougomont had more prolonged and exciting conflict; the heavy cavalry did magnificent service: to Maitland's brigade, and still more to the 52nd, belongs the conspicuous glory of having given the last crushing blow. But after all the chief honour belongs to the English brigades of Halkett, Kempt and Pack, and to the Germans who stood by their side.


                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                           

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