Chapter XVI: Part 16

The French were still masters of a part of La Haye Sainte farm and were rallying again on the side of the valley which lay between them and the English. Napoleon joined them, and walked in front of their ranks midst bullets rebounding from one line to another, and howitzers resounding in the air, General Desvaux, commander of the artillery of the Guard being killed at his side.

During these assaults on the centre of the British line, the French cuirassiers had advanced to the charge in the face of a terrific fire from the artillery in front of the British infantry. The infantry awaited it, formed in a double line of squares, placed checkerwise, so that the sides of each square could fire a volley on the advancing cavalry, and protected in front by a battery of thirty field-pieces. The French cuirassiers rode up to the very mouths of the cannon, charged the artillerymen, drove them from their guns, and then rode fiercely on the squares behind. These remained steadfast, withholding their fire until the French were within a few yards of their bayonets, and then opened on them with deadly effect. The cavalry was all but broken, then rallied and renewed their charge. This they did several times, and always with the same result. Sometimes they even rode between the squares, and charged those of the second line. As the cuirassiers retired the artillerymen rushed from behind the squares, formed four deep, manned their guns, and fired grape-shot with terrible effect on the retreating body of gallant but ineffective cavalry.

At length protracted exposure to such a murderous fire completed the ruin of these fearless cavaliers, the far greater part being annihilated in this part of the battle.

When the relics of the cuirassiers at last withdrew, the French cannonade opened up furiously once more all along the line. It was vigorously returned, but the effect was far more devastating amidst the British ranks than in those of their assailants. The English were then commanded by Wellington to lie flat on the ground for some space, in order to diminish its effects. The Duke had by this time lost 10,000 men and Napoleon possibly a few more.

It was now 4 o'clock and about this time the Emperor received intelligence from Gembloux, that, notwithstanding his repeated orders, Marshal Grouchy had not left his encampment at that place till after 10 o'clock in the morning, in consequence, it was said, of the state of the weather. The body of ten thousand men, under Count Lobau and General Daumont, were now in action with the Prussians under Bulow, near St. Lambeth. The cannonade continued for considerable time; the Prussian centre was then attacked and beaten back, but its wings advancing, Count Lobau was obliged to retire.

At this crisis Napoleon dispatched General Dufresne, with two brigades of infantry of the young guard, and twenty-four pieces of cannon, and the Prussian advance was checked. They still endeavored to out-flank the French right, when several battalions of the Old Guard, with sixteen pieces of cannon, were sent forward; the Prussian line was then out-flanked, and Bulow driven back.

At about 5 o'clock Count d'Erlon had taken possession of the village of Ter-la-Haye; out-flanking the English left and Bulow's right. It appears that Count Milhaud's cuirassiers--which Ney had so often led against the enemy, and who were behind d'Erlon--and the Chasseurs of the Guard, supported by an incessant fire from the infantry of General Lefebvre-Desnoettes, dashed across the plain beyond the farm of La Haye Sainte. The advance of eight regiments and four brigades of their formidable horsemen created a great sensation, as it was believed the final moment was come. As General Milhaud passed before Lefebvre-Desnoettes, he grasped his hand and said, "I am going to charge, support me!" The commander of the light cavalry of the Guard believed it was by order of the Emperor he was desired to support the cuirassiers, and following their movement he took up a position behind them. It was Ney's belief, as he had said to Druot, that were he allowed to act he could, unaided, with such a body of noble cavalry at his disposal, now put an end to the English army.

A fierce struggle ensued in which Ney had some advantage over the English, but not what had been expected. He now hastened towards Lefebvre-Desnoettes, made a signal to advance, and precipitated him on the Duke of Wellington's English and German cavalry. This charge allowed the somewhat disorganized cuirassiers time to form again, and they, with the chasseurs and lancers, fell again upon the English cavalry. Thousands of hand-to-hand conflicts now were in progress, ending in the enemy retreating behind the squares of the English infantry, thus stopping the onward progress of the French horsemen.

Ney had two horses killed under him, but he was still determined to fulfill his vow to break the English lines. Observing now, on the other side of the plateau, 3,000 cuirassiers and 2,000 mounted grenadiers of the Guard that had not been yet engaged, the Marshal asked that they be given him to complete the victory.

About 6 o'clock there was disorder in a great part of the Duke of Wellington's army. The ranks were thinned by the number killed, by those carried off wounded, and by desertions. Soldiers of various nations, Belgian, Hanoverian and English "crowded to the rear" and fled in a panic from this dreadful action. "A number of our own dismounted dragoons" says Captain Pringle, "together with a portion of our infantry, were glad to escape from the field. These thronged the road leading to Brussels, in a manner that none but an eye-witness could have believed."

Cries of "Victory!" now resounded from the French over different parts of the field. Napoleon on hearing this, observed,--"It is an hour too soon; but we must support what is done." He then sent an order for a grand charge of three thousand cuirassiers under Kellerman on the left, and who were to move forward briskly and support the cavalry on the low grounds.

A distant cannonade was now heard in the direction of Wavres. It announced the approach of Grouchy--or Blucher!

At 12:30 o'clock Grouchy was midway between Gembloux and Wavres. The tremendous cannonade of Waterloo resounded from the distance. General Excelmans rode up to the marshal, and told him that "he was convinced that the Emperor must be in action with the Anglo-Belgian army; that so terrible a fire could not be an affair of outposts or skirmishing; and that they ought to march to the scene of action, which, by turning to the left, they might reach within two hours."

Grouchy paused awhile, and then reverted to his orders to follow Blucher, although he did not know where Blucher really was. Count Girard came up, and joined in the advice of General Excelmans. Still Grouchy remained doubtful, and as if stupefied. "At one moment" says Hazlitt "he appeared convinced; but just then a report came that the Prussians were at Wavres, and he set out once more after them," instead of instantly hurrying off to join the Emperor in his great battle.

It was a rear-guard which Blucher had left at Wavres; and the Prussian leader had gone to Waterloo, at the head of 30,000 men, having been advised, as previously stated, that the Duke of Wellington would hazard a battle on the morning of the 18th, if he could depend on the co-operation of the Prussians. The veteran marshal, at an early hour, had detached the corps of Bulow, with orders to march on St. Lambert, leaving Mielman with his corps at Wavres.

The Duke had expected to be joined by Blucher as early as 11 o'clock; but the roads were in such a condition that the Prussians could not accomplish the march in any such time as had been calculated. Their advance was necessarily slow,--but it was in the right direction!

Meanwhile, the Emperor on the battlefield of Waterloo, had reluctantly ordered the charge of Kellerman's three thousand cuirassiers, asked for by Ney, to sustain and follow up the advantage of the cuirassiers of Milhaud and the chasseurs of the Guard, on the plain below. The marshal's contest had been carefully watched by Napoleon who declared at once that Ney was too impatient, and had begun an hour too soon. "This man is always the same." said Marshal Soult. "He will compromise everything as he did at Jena and Eylau."

Kellerman was now all ready for action, but he condemned the desperate use which at this moment was to be made of the cavalry. Distrusting the result, he kept back one of his brigades, the carbineers, and most unwillingly sent the remainder to Ney, whom he accused of foolish zeal.

These twenty squadrons, led on by their generals and officers, now advanced at full gallop as if in pursuit of the English army, shouting, "Vive l'Empereur!" and under the cannonade of the Prussians, for Bulow was still pressing upon the flank and rear. Other bodies of cavalry also advanced upon the centre of the Anglo-Belgian army, making a spectacle which General Foy, an eye-witness, afterwards declared that during his long military career he had never been present at such a fearful scene as he then beheld.

While Napoleon was watching their several charges, General Guyot's division of heavy cavalry was seen following the cuirassiers of Kellerman. This latter movement was without the Emperor's orders, and seems to have been the result of ungovernable excitement on the part of the officers and men, who thought they could finish the battle by a _coup de main_.

The Emperor instantly sent Count Bertrand to recall them; but it was too late! The cavalry, once started, nothing could arrest its rush--they were in action before the order could reach them; and to recall them now would have been dangerous, even if possible. This division was the reserve, and ought by all means to have been held back. Thus was the Emperor deprived of his reserve of cavalry as early as 5 o'clock.

PREPARATIONS FOR THE ADVANCE OF THE OLD GUARD AT WATERLOO]

It is said that during the preparation of this grand charge of 12,000 French cavalry,--the finest in the world,--the Duke of Wellington ran forward with his glass in front of the lines, amidst the hot fire which preceded the charge. He was reminded that he was exposing himself too much. "Yes," said the Duke, "I know I am,--but I must see what they are doing." To an officer who asked for instructions in case he should be slain, he answered; "I have no instructions to give; there is only one thing to be done--to fight to the last man and the last moment!"

Some years later the Duke said, "I have never seen anything more admirable in war than those ten or twelve reiterated charges of the French cuirassiers upon our troops of all arms."

It was obvious to the English commander, as he viewed this splendid spectacle, that unless this last and decisive onset should drive him from the post which he had continued to hold during nearly seven hours of intermitting battle, his allies would come fully into the field and give him a vast superiority of numbers wherewith to close the work of the day. The Duke now decided to sacrifice the remainder of his cavalry, and he moved them forward to meet the shock of the advancing foe.

The matchless body of French cavalry continued to dash forward towards the hostile lines, in successive masses, and with all the triumphant fury of a charge upon a retreating enemy. Breaking through many squares of infantry, overthrowing the opposing cavalry, and overwhelming the artillery in front of the lines, they were received by the squares of British infantry, first with a volley of musket-balls, and then upon the immovable array of bristling bayonets. Men and horses, struggling in the agonies of violent death, bestrewed the ground. In his extremity Wellington determined on employing Cumberland's one thousand hussars, who had not yet been engaged; but at sight of this scene of slaughter the hussars fell back in disorder.

The resistance of the Duke was most stubborn but Ney still hoped to destroy the English army at the point of the sword by keeping up a continued charge, having been reinforced by the heavy cavalry of the Guard whose advance had been made apparently without orders.

Meanwhile Ney, seeing Kellerman's carbineers in reserve, hastened to where they were, asked what they were doing and then, despite Kellerman's resistance, led them to the front where they succeeded in making fresh breaches in the British infantry, but were unable to get beyond the second line.

For the eleventh time Ney led on his 10,000 horse to the attack. The cuirassiers wheeled about, reformed, and again charged with tremendous energy, and a valor that set at contemptuous defiance the tempest of grape-shot, and balls of the artillery and musketry which opposed their advance. Men rolled off, and horses fell plunging; even pistols were discharged in their faces, and swords thrust over their bayonets in vain. The British infantry, though shaken for a moment again closed their ranks, fell into line and continued to fire. About this time Ney was heard to say to General d'Erlon, "Be sure, my friend, that for you and me, if we do not die here under the English balls, nothing remains but to fall miserably under those of the émigrés." To his artillery a few moments before he had said, "It is here, my friends, that the fate of our country is about to be decided; it is here that we must conquer in order to secure our independence!"

The Emperor, who was now suffering great bodily pain, scarcely able to sit upon his horse, and falling at times into a sort of lethargy, was much moved by this spectacle. He had never before commanded in person against the English soldiery; but he knew them now--when it was too late! He observed their wonderful self-command, and unflinching courage, and praised it;--but it was his ruin!

Again and again did the brilliant cavalry of the French rush forward to the charge with redoubled fury. They frequently passed between the squares of the first line amidst their united cross-fire from front and rear, and charged the squares of the second line whose fire they also received, but no general effect was produced, no real advantage gained beyond an occasional breaking of the squares in both lines, particularly the second. The baffled cuirassiers were always obliged to retire, receiving the terrible cross-fire of the squares as they passed between them and followed by a volley of musketry and often by the grape-shot of the artillery.

Four thousand of the French cavalry now strewed the ground, while 10,000 English, horse and foot had laid down their lives. Many were the deeds of individual gallantry performed by officers and men on both sides, among cavalry and infantry all over the field. During the conflict Colonel Heymes hastened to Napoleon to ask for the infantry of which Ney was in need. "Infantry!" cried the Emperor, with considerable irritation, "where does he suppose I can get them? Does he expect me to make them? You can see the task before me, and you see what troops I have!" When the Emperor's irritation had somewhat subsided he sent another message to Ney, more hopeful than the former. He made Colonel Heymes tell the marshal that if he were in a difficult position at Mont St. Jean, he was himself in still greater difficulties on the banks of the Lasne, where he was opposed by the entire Prussian army, but when he had repelled, or even checked them, he, with the Guard, would hasten to complete the conquest of the English; until then the plateau was to be held at any cost for an hour when he might reckon on reinforcements.

The desperate assaults of the French cavalry ought to have been supported by strong bodies of infantry; they could not, however, be spared, being needed for the contest with Bulow, on the French right and to prevent his advance.

By 7 o'clock, Bulow's corps of 30,000 men was successfully repulsed, and Count Lobau, with 10,000 men, occupied the positions from which the Prussian general had been driven.

Still the French cavalry could do no more than maintain itself on the plateau from which the Duke's 36,000 men had made a slight retrograde movement. A fresh cannonade was opened by the French along the British line, after the assaults of the cuirassiers, but no further advance was attempted by the former. As one authority truly says, the British were beaten to a stand-still--_but there they stood!_ It was, in effect, a drawn battle up to this time.

There was not the least demonstration on the part of the Duke of Wellington to make any general advance during this almost interminable contest,--nor had there been all day,--and as little sign of his moving back. About twenty thousand men had already been killed, or otherwise lost, on each side.

It was now nearly 7 o'clock. The distant cannonade, which had been faintly heard in the direction of Wavres, opened nearer at hand. It was the announcement,--not of the arrival of Grouchy, in the rear of Bulow's division; but that of the two columns of Blucher, amounting to about 31,000 fresh troops!

The relative strength of the two armies, allowing twenty thousand as lost on both sides, was now considerably over two to one against the French,--the majority on the other side being chiefly composed of fresh men. Wellington was heard to say during the day, "Would to God that Blucher or night would come!" and now both were at hand.

The presence of mind of the Emperor now became most alert, and it was never so clearly manifested as at this critical moment when everything hung in the balance.

The fresh army, advancing to the assistance of the Anglo-Belgian forces, was soon discovered by the French troops, who were in action on the field. The cavalry on the plain were waiting in constant expectation of the Emperor's orders for the advance of his reserves of the infantry of the Guard. They were not alarmed when they saw the communication finally effected between Bulow and the English, but when they perceived the approach of the dense columns of Blucher, they were confounded, and several regiments began to fall back.

Napoleon now sent his aides-de-camp along the whole line to announce the arrival of succor, and that Blucher's advance was only a retreat before Grouchy, who was pressing on his rear. It was a clever ruse, and warranted by the situation in which he now found himself, as it momentarily revived the spirits of the weary troops to a wonderful degree.

At the head of four battalions of the infantry of the Guard, the Emperor now advanced on the left in front of La Haye Sainte. He ordered General Reille to concentrate the whole of his corps near Hougomont and make an attack. He then sent General Friant to support the cavalry on the plain with four battalions of the middle guard. If, by sudden charge, they could break and disorder the centre of the British line before the columns of Blucher could force their way into the plain, a last chance of success still remained. Blucher was hurrying on to La Haye; there was not a moment to lose!

The attack was made, the infantry drove back all that opposed them, and repeated charges of the French cavalry disordered the hostile ranks. Presently some battalions of the Old Guard came up. They too were going to the attack to retrieve the ground lost by the young guard who had fallen back, for, as Thiers says, "It is the privilege of the Old Guard to repair every disaster." The Emperor ranged his veterans by brigades; two battalions being in line, and two in column. As he rode along in front of these battle-scarred battalions, he said, "My friends, the decisive moment is come; it will not do to fire; you must come hand to hand with the enemy, and drive them back at the point of the bayonet into the ravine whence they have issued to threaten the army, the Empire and France."

General Friant was now carried by, wounded. He said that all was going well, but that the attack could not be successful till the balance of the Guard were employed. This movement could not be effected on the instant and in a few minutes it was too late, as the Prussians were coming up in great numbers. The British still stood on the defensive and Blucher had reached the village of La Haye. A violent struggle now ensued, but it was of brief duration; the overwhelming mass of fresh men soon bore down all opposition.

The Duke of Wellington now prepared,--for the first time during the day,--to advance his entire line. He was aware that the decisive moment was at hand and that his safety, as well as that of his gallant men, depended on this last effort.

A panic soon seized some of the French soldiers, exhausted and maddened by the terrible strain they had undergone during the day, and at the sudden appearance before them of the dark mass of fresh assailants, the cry of "Sauve qui peut!" (Every man for himself!) was raised. The disorder soon became general and the men fled as the columns of Prussians poured into the plain.

Napoleon instantly changed the front of the Guard so as to throw its left on La Haye Sainte and its right on La Belle Alliance; he then met the fugitives and led them back to their post. They at once faced the Prussians, whom they immediately charged. The fresh brigade of the English cavalry from Ohain arrived at this crisis and forced their way between General Reille's corps and the Guard, to their utter separation. The Emperor now ordered his four reserve squadrons to charge the fresh brigade of English cavalry but their attack met with no success. As he was leading the four battalions destined to their place of attack on the Charleroi road he met Ney, who was greatly excited, and who declared that the cavalry would certainly give way if a large reinforcement of infantry did not immediately arrive. Napoleon gave him the battalions he was bringing up and promised to send six more.

The ranks of the French were now in general confusion all over the field. Napoleon had barely time to gallop into one of the squares of the Guard which still maintained its position; Ney, Jerome, Soult, Bertrand, Druot, Corbineau, de Flahaut, Labedoyere, Gourgaud and others drew their swords, became soldiers again and followed close to their chiefs heels. They entered the square of the last battalion of reserve,--the illustrious and unfortunate remains of the "granite column" of the fields of Marengo, who had remained unshaken amidst the tumultuous waves of the army. The old grenadiers, incapable of fear for themselves, were alarmed at the danger threatening the Emperor, and appealed to him to withdraw. "Retire" said one of them, "You see that death shuns you!" The Emperor resisted, and commanded them to fire.

The four battalions of the Guard, and the cavalry which had so long held the plains below in opposition to the whole Anglo-Belgian army, were being rapidly depleted. Wellington had ordered Maitland's guards to fire on them at short range as they moved forward for the last time. The sudden shock did not cause the advancing soldiers to stop, but closing their ranks they continued to push on. They were soon beaten, however, by overwhelming numbers of cavalry, both English and Prussian, and were at last compelled to retire that they might not be cut off from the centre of the army, while the enemy continued to advance, preceded by their artillery, which poured forth a most destructive fire.

But one last effort to stem the torrent still remained. If the British centre could be broken, and their advance checked, some favorable chance was just possible. The Emperor therefore ordered the advance of the reserve infantry of the Imperial Guard,--the flower of his army. He exhorted them, by a hasty personal appeal, and confided the direction of their efforts to "the bravest of the brave," who had had five horses killed under him and who now advanced on foot, sword in hand. The 2900 heroic stalwarts moved forward in two columns, headed by Ney, and supported by a heavy fire of artillery, while four battalions of the Old Guard, formed into squares, took post in their rear as a reserve and to protect the march of the columns.

Either wing of the English had by this time advanced in consequence of the repulses of the French and their line now presented a concave. They were formed in an unbroken array, four deep, and as the French advanced poured on them a shower which never intermitted, each man firing as often as he could reload. Wellington gave the order to advance in the familiar and brusque terms of, "Up guards and at them!" The English wings kept moving on all the while; and when the heads of the French columns, who continued to advance till within forty or fifty yards, approached to this point, they were met with such a storm of musketry in front, and on either flank, that they in vain endeavored to deploy into line for the attack, under a terrific and unremitting fire. They stopped to make this attempt, reeled, lost order, and the 800 men who were left standing fled at last in one mass of confusion.

The Duke of Wellington now dismounted, placed himself at the head of his line and led his men against the remaining numbers of four battalions of the Old Guard--the only unbroken troops remaining behind, while Ney was striving to rally his fugitives. His cocked hat was gone, and his clothes were literally riddled with bullets, though he himself remained untouched. The intrepid marshal, at Wellington's approach, took part once more in the mêlée, sword in hand, and on foot. But nothing could withstand the impetuous assault of the victorious British.

Napoleon, who had watched this last terrible contest from the heights of La Belle Alliance suddenly exclaimed, "They are mingled together, all is lost for the present," and accompanied by but three or four officers, he gave the signal for retreat and hurried to the left of Planchenois, to a second position, where he had placed a regiment of the Guard, with two batteries in reserve.

The four battalions of the Old Guard, under General Cambronne, still remained to protect the retreat of the French army. If they could succeed in holding the British in check, and prevent their advance during half an hour longer, darkness would enable the army to retreat in safety, and partially recover its disorder by morning. The Old Guard formed in square, flanked by a few pieces of artillery, and by a brigade of red lancers. "The Duke of Wellington" says Captain Pringle, "now ordered his whole line to advance and attack their position." They advanced to the charge in embattled array, condensed and tremendous, against the remnant of noble veterans of that old Imperial Guard, which, during twenty years of slaughterous wars, had never once been vanquished. Gathering round the standards of their former glory, they received the dreadful onset with souls prepared for death. Nothing could now withstand the vigor of the attack of the British soldiers who thus had an opportunity to relieve their breasts of the heavy burden they had borne all day when compelled, for hours, to stand the fierce attacks of the French, being frequently driven back, and never making an advance.

The Old Guard, as was to be expected, were beaten down,--slaughtered. Their general, Cambronne, was called upon to surrender by some British officers who seemed to revolt at the uneven contest. The only reply made by him was,--not the generally believed, but inaccurate declaration recorded by some historians, "The Old Guard dies, but does not surrender!" but was a single word of military jargon frequently used by French soldiers. Almost immediately afterwards he fell from his horse, cut down by a fragment of a shell striking him on the head; but he would not allow his men to leave their ranks to bear him away.

Once more these heroes, now reduced to but one hundred and fifty men, are commanded to surrender; "We will not yield!" they answer back, and discharging their muskets for the last time, rush on the cavalry and with their bayonets, kill many men and horses, and then sink to the earth exhausted or in death.

The Old Guard was destroyed,--not defeated! The advancing British troops rode over their prostrate bodies piled in ghastly heaps,--a monument to their valor and heroism, even in death. Ney, bareheaded, his clothes hanging in shreds, and with his broken sword in his hand, seeing a handful of his followers still remaining, ran forward to lead them against a Prussian column that was pursuing them. As the fearless marshal threw himself once more into the fray he exclaimed, "Come my friends; come see how a marshal of France can die!" But his time had not come: he was not destined to die upon the battlefield. His small band was soon overpowered and scarcely two hundred escaped death. Rulliere, who commanded the battalion, broke the flag-staff, hid the eagle beneath his coat, and followed Ney who had been unhorsed for the fifth time, but who was still unwounded. Under cover of the darkness they made their escape.

The Emperor attempted to protect the retreat and rally the fugitives; but it was now fast growing dark. The soldiers could not see him or they might have rallied, while many believed the report that he had been killed. "He is wounded," said some, "He is dead" cried others. Nothing could be heard above the uproar and hideous confusion that everywhere prevailed. The Prussian cavalry, supported by some battalions of infantry, and the whole of Bulow's corps, now advanced by the right of Planchenois.

In a few minutes the Emperor was almost surrounded by hostile forces. He had formed the regiment into a square, and was still lingering, when Marshal Soult seized the bridle of his horse, exclaimed that he would not be killed, but taken prisoner, and, pulling him away, the Emperor at last yielded to his destiny! Behind him on the battlefield lay 60,000 French, English and Prussians, dead or wounded. The battle of Waterloo was lost and this hitherto almost invincible warrior was obliged to gallop across the fields in the dark, amidst the whistling of the Prussian bullets, and detachments of their cavalry which were scouring the field in all directions.

Napoleon was so fatigued, on the road to Genappe, that he would no doubt have fallen from his horse, had he not been supported by General Gourgaud and two other persons, who remained his only attendants for some time.

Wellington and Blucher met about 10 o'clock, at the farm-house of La Belle Alliance, and after congratulating each other on the success of the day, the Prussian commander, whose men were still fresh, eagerly undertook to continue the pursuit during the night, while the English general halted to rest his weary men and care for the dead and wounded.

The English loss on this eventful day was 100 officers slain and 500 wounded; very many mortally. The Duke who was himself exposed to great danger throughout the day, and one other person, were the only two among his numerous staff who escaped unhurt. The enemy, according to their own accounts, lost over thirty thousand men, including Hanoverians, Belgian troops of Nassau, Brunswick, etc.; those of the English army alone amounted to 22,800; to which are to be added 8,000 to 10,000 Prussians. Of the 72,000 men whom Napoleon headed in this, his 85th pitched battle and greatest defeat, not more than 30,000 were ever again collected in arms. The remainder were either killed or wounded on the battlefield, or deserted and fled separately to their homes, or were murdered by the Prussians who followed hard on the miserable and defenseless fugitives, cutting down all they overtook without resistance or mercy.

Several French officers blew out their brains to escape their brutality and some of the veterans of the Imperial Guard, who lay wounded upon the battlefield, killed themselves when they heard the Emperor had lost the battle, in order that they might not fall into the hands of the enemy, or through remorse at the downfall of their chief.

Napoleon made a brief halt at Genappe, at about 11 o'clock at night; but all his attempts to rally the frantic masses were in vain. He then continued his course towards Quatre-Bras, where he dismounted at a bivouac at about 1 o'clock in the morning. At Phillipville, he received news of Grouchy's movements, and sent him word of the loss of Mont St. Jean, (Waterloo).

At this point he caused orders to be dispatched to Generals Rapp, Lecourbe and Lamarque, to proceed by forced marches to Paris, and to commanders of fortified towns to defend themselves to the last extremity. He also dictated two letters to his brother Joseph, one to be communicated to the council of ministers relating imperfectly the fatal issue of the day, and the other for his private perusal giving a faithful account of the total rout of the army, and declaring that he would soon have an army of 300,000 troops with which to oppose the enemy. The Duke of Bassano (Maret) and Baron Fleury now came up and greeted the Emperor who was much affected at meeting them, and was scarcely able to suppress his emotions. He then prepared to set off in a calash, accompanied by Bertrand. At Rocroi, where Napoleon stopped to take refreshments, his attendants appeared in a pitiable state; their clothes were covered with blood and dust, their looks were haggard, and their eyes were filled with tears. Napoleon continued his journey to Paris, via Laon, accompanied by two or three hundred fugitives, who had been collected to form an escort, arriving at the capital on the evening of the 20th of June.

XVII

CONCLUSION

The "military career" of Napoleon Bonaparte having ended at Waterloo, but little remains to be added here. Other writers, especially those noble self-sacrificing friends who shared with the Exile his life at St. Helena, have told in detail of his weary hours on the rocks in the Atlantic Ocean, and a brief summary of the events which finally ended in Napoleon becoming a prisoner of England for life will only be recited.

The arrival of the Emperor at Paris had been preceded by the news--received on June 19th, of the victories at Charleroi and Ligny, and one hundred cannon had been fired in honor of his successes. On the morning of the 21st it became known that the Emperor had arrived the night before, at the Elysée. When he stopped at the flight of steps leading to the palace General Druot, who had accompanied him exclaimed, "All is lost!" "Except honor," answered Napoleon quickly. He had not spoken before since leaving Laon.

Immediately on his arrival the Emperor was received by Caulaincourt--his censor in prosperity and real friend in adversity. To him he said, with head bowed by grief and fatigue, "The army performed prodigies; a panic seized it, and all was lost. Ney conducted himself like a madman; he got my cavalry massacred. I can say no more--I must have two hours' rest, to enable me to prepare for business"; "I am choking here!" he exclaimed a moment later, laying his hand upon his heart. After ordering a bath, and a few moments silence he said: "My intention is to assemble the two Chambers in an imperial sitting and demand the means of saving the country."

He was then informed that the deputies appeared hostile towards him, and were little disposed to grant his requests. While he remained in his bath the ministers and great officers of state hastened towards the Elysée. When they arrived, his clothes were still covered with dust, as he had left the field of Waterloo; yet, exhausted by the fatigues of three battles, and the dreadful events of his flight and the hurry of his journey being still vivid in his mind, he gave a rapid but distinct view of the resources of the country, the strength already organized for resistance, and the far greater power still capable of development. Among his listeners were his brothers Joseph and Lucien.

While consulting with his ministers, presided over by Joseph, on the morning of the 21st, as to what manner he should inform the Chambers of his great misfortune, news was received that both assemblies had met on learning of his defeat and resolutions passed,--one of which declared the State to be in danger, and the other that their own sittings be made permanent. Thus the Chamber of Representatives overturned the new constitution, and put aside the authority of the Emperor. These resolutions were also adopted by the Chamber of Peers. Lucien Bonaparte, and some of Napoleon's more intimate friends, wished him to instantly put himself at the head of 6,000 of the Imperial Guard, who were then in the capital, and dissolve the Senate, which was unfriendly to him. The Emperor, however, was undecided; as Lucien said of him ever after that, "the smoke of Mont St. Jean had turned his brain."

NAPOLEON AT WATERLOO]

Late in the evening of the 21st Napoleon held a council to which the presidents and vice presidents of both Chambers were admitted, but no decision was arrived at. Lafayette, the friend of Washington, declared that nothing could be done until "a great sacrifice could be made." The Emperor heard all in silence and broke up the meeting without having come to any decision.

"I have often asked myself," said Napoleon to Las Casas at St Helena, "whether I have done for the French people all that they could expect of me--for that people did much for me. Will they ever know all that I suffered during the night that preceded my final decision? In that night of anguish and uncertainty, I had to choose between two great courses; the one was to save France by violence, and the other to yield to the general impulse." He finally decided that abdication was the only step he could adopt, and his determination was taken.

Early next morning--the 22d--the Chambers again met, and the necessity of the Emperor's abdication was discussed with vigor. It was demanded on all hands, and without any reservation or condition whatever. Finally, Lafayette instructed that word should be sent Napoleon that he would be given an hour in which to abdicate, and be told if he had not done so by that time he would be deposed. Between noon and 1 o'clock the abdication was signed and carried by Carnot to the Chamber of Peers, and by Fouché to the Chamber of Deputies.

When Fouché appeared, the Deputies were about to declare the Emperor deposed, and he saved them that trouble by producing the following proclamation, in the handwriting of Joseph Bonaparte, to whom it had been dictated, and addressed to the French people:

"Frenchmen! When I began war for the maintenance of the national
independence, I relied upon the union of all efforts, all wills
and all the national authorities. I had reason to hope for
success, and I braved all the declarations of the powers against
my person. Circumstances appear to be changed. I offer myself as
a sacrifice to the hatred against France. May they prove sincere
in their declarations, and to have aimed only at me! My
political life is ended. I proclaim my son under the title of
Napoleon II., Emperor of the French. The present ministers will
provisionally form the council of the Government. The interest
which I take in my son induces me to recommend the Chambers
should immediately enact a law for the organization of a
Regency; unite together for the general safety, and to the end
of securing your national independence. Done at the Palace of
the Elysée, June the 22d, 1815.--NAPOLEON."

The Chambers had awaited this reply in a state of the greatest impatience in both houses. In the Chamber of Peers, Carnot, having received some exaggerated accounts of the force and success of Grouchy, endeavored to persuade the Assembly that the marshal must ere then have added 60,000 men at Laon to Soult, the relics of Waterloo, thus forming an army capable, under proper guidance, of yet effectually retrieving the affairs of France.

Ney, who had arrived in Paris the same morning, declared otherwise. "Grouchy" said he, "cannot have more than twenty, or at most, more than twenty-five thousand men; and as to Soult, I myself commanded the Guard in the last assault--I saw them all massacred before I left the field. Be assured there is but one course,--negotiate and recall the Bourbons. In their return I see nothing but the certainty of being shot as a deserter. I shall seek all I have henceforth to hope for in America. Take you the only course that remains for France."

Ney's prophecy was soon to be fulfilled, for on the return of the Bourbons to the throne he was shot as a traitor to France, although, as has been frequently said of him, he fought more than five hundred battles for his country and never raised arms against her!

A deputation from the Senate waited on the Emperor at the Elysée, and in respectful terms thanked him for the sacrifice he had made, but he was unable to exact from them the avowal that his abdication necessarily carried with it the immediate proclamation of Napoleon II.

The Emperor, for the last time clothed in imperial garb, and surrounded by his great officers of state, received the deputation with calmness and dignity. "I thank you for the sentiments which you express," he said, "I desire that my abdication may produce the happiness of France; but I cannot hope it; the State is left by it without a chief, without a political existence. The time lost in overturning the Empire might have been employed in placing France in a position to crush the enemy. I recommend that the Chamber promptly reinforce the armies; whoever wishes for peace must be ready for war. Do not place this great nation at the mercy of strangers. Beware of being deceived in your hopes. This is the real danger. In whatever position I may be placed, I shall always be satisfied, if France is happy."

He perceived clearly that there was no hope for his son. Thus ended the second reign--the "Hundred Days" of Napoleon. His public career was ended. The council of ministers broke up, and the palace of the Elysée soon presented the appearance of being deserted. Napoleon, surrounded only by a few friends, had now become a private individual. When Caulaincourt advised him to seek safety from the Allies in flight to the United States, he replied; "What have I to fear? I have abdicated--it is the business of France to protect me!"

The repeated protestations of Napoleon and his friends, that unless Napoleon II. was recognized the abdication of his father was null, and that the country that could hesitate about such an act of justice was worthy of nothing but slavery, began to produce a powerful effect among the soldiery in Paris, and Napoleon was called upon to signify to the army that he no longer claimed any authority over them, to which he complied.

A provisional government was now proclaimed, consisting of Fouché, Carnot, Caulaincourt and Generals Grenier and Quinette, and installed in the Tuileries. Fouché declared that Napoleon's continued presence at the capital might produce disturbance, and Carnot was deputed to request him to withdraw to Malmaison, which he was compelled to do on the 25th. Arriving there he soon became aware of the fact that he was in effect a prisoner, for Fouché's police surrounded him on all sides--ostensibly "to protect his person." It was at Malmaison, in compliance with the suggestions of some members of the government, that Napoleon addressed his last proclamation to the army; "Soldiers!" he said, "When I yield to the necessity which forces me to separate myself from the brave French army, I take away with me the happy conviction that it will justify, by the eminent services which the country expects from it, the high character which our enemies themselves are not able to refuse to it. Soldiers! I shall follow your steps, though absent. I know all the corps, and not one among them will obtain a single advantage over the enemy that I shall not render homage to the courage which it will have shown. You, and I, have been calumniated. Men, incapable of appreciating your actions, have seen, in the marks of attachment which you have given me, a zeal of which I was the whole object; let your future success teach them that it was the country, above all, that you served in obeying me, and that if I have any part in your affection, I owe it to my ardent love of France, our common mother. Soldiers, some efforts more, and the coalition will be destroyed. Napoleon will know you by the blows that you will give to it. Save the honor, the independence of the French; be what I have known you for twenty years, and you will be invincible."

This address, however, although written at the instigation of the government, its representatives would not allow to be published in the "Moniteur."

The relics of Waterloo, and Grouchy's division, were now marching towards Paris under Soult, followed closely by Wellington and Blucher. The provisional government began to feel some anxiety concerning Napoleon, whom they feared might make his escape from Malmaison and place himself at the head of an armed force to take the field against the invaders, and in favor of Napoleon II.

General Becker, who had been appointed by Fouché to the unthankful office of guarding Napoleon, was prevailed upon to repair to Paris and convey a letter to the government, in which the ex-Emperor offered to assume the command of the army and beat the enemy, not with an intention of seizing the sovereign power, but agreeing to pursue his journey as soon as victory should give a favorable turn to the negotiations. In this letter, which was addressed to the Committee of Government, Napoleon said: "In abdicating the sovereign authority, I did not renounce the noblest right of a citizen, that of defending my country. The approach of the Allies upon the capital leaves no doubt of their intentions and bad faith. Under these weighty circumstances, I offer my service as general, still considering myself the first soldier of my country!"

Fouché read the letter aloud, and then exclaimed, "Is he laughing at us? Come, this is going too far." His proposal was of course rejected, although Carnot was desirous that his prayer should be granted.

General Becker was instructed to carry back to Malmaison this response; "The duties of the Committee toward the country do not permit it to accept the proposition and the active assistance of the Emperor Napoleon."

He found the Emperor in uniform, believing a favorable reply would be returned. When he had finished the missive Napoleon said: "These men are incapable of energy. Since that is the case, let us go into exile."

Fouché now urged his prisoner to consent to depart at once for some foreign port--naming the United States as a haven in which he might find relief from outside interference. If Napoleon had acted promptly, as he had all his life been accustomed to do, he might in all probability have made his escape to this country, as our vessels were in every French port--and he could have crossed the Atlantic; but he hesitated, and those golden moments, which meant so much to him, even liberty itself, were soon irretrievably lost. Fouché, who was extremely anxious to have the man who had made him all he was out of the way, did not hesitate to resort to questionable means of pressure to get Napoleon to leave France. One of these was the stimulating of the personal creditors of the dethroned Emperor, and his family, who repaired incessantly to Malmaison to torment him with their demands.

Meanwhile Fouché sent to the Duke of Wellington announcing that Napoleon had declared his intention of departing for America, and requesting for him a safe conduct across the Atlantic. The Duke replied that he had no authority to grant passports to Napoleon Bonaparte but the request, as Fouché hoped, had the effect of causing the English admirality to quicken their diligence and there was immediately stationed no less than thirty cruisers along the western coasts of France in order to intercept Napoleon should he attempt to depart. No one could be deceived as to the intention of this proceeding; it clearly denoted that the men, who, for the moment, possessed the government of France, had determined that the late Emperor should not leave the country freely. The fear that he might return to the capital, and to his throne, had made them take a step which was certain to place him in the power of the English government.

The next move was to inform Napoleon of the Duke's reply and with it the declaration that two frigates, and some smaller vessels, awaited his orders at Rochefort. He was informed that "if he repaired thither on the instant" he would still be in time. For a moment he hesitated, wavering between hope and doubt. Baron Fleury then went to Paris and learned that the Prussians designed to carry off the Emperor; that Blucher had said, "If I can catch Bonaparte, I will hang him up at the head of my army," but that Wellington had strenuously opposed such a cowardly design. At half past 3 o'clock in the morning Napoleon was informed that Wellington had refused him safe conduct, and he was ordered to depart immediately from Malmaison. Preparations were hurriedly made, and on the 29th of June, eleven days after the battle of Waterloo, he left Malmaison, accompanied by Savary, Bertrand and Las Casas, and others of his attached servants, and attended by a guard of mounted men.

If one of his followers had not taken the precaution to have the bridges in front of Malmaison burned, Napoleon would have run a great risk of falling into the hands of the Allies, as three corps of Prussian cavalry appeared there in quest of him very soon after he started. They had arrived by a circuitous route, and must have been led by a guide well acquainted with the locality. Napoleon, however, had escaped this danger. He slept at Rambouillet the first night, at Tours on the 30th, and at Niort on the 1st of July. He was well received wherever he was recognized; but at the last named place the enthusiasm of the people and troops was extreme.

Rochefort was reached on the 3rd of July. Here Napoleon, who was joined by his brother Joseph, took up his residence in the prefect's house with the view of embarking immediately, but he was informed that a British line-of-battle ship, and some smaller vessels of war, were off the roads, watching the roadstead and harbor, and his departure was therefore impossible.

Meanwhile the French army had once more retired from before the walls of Paris under a convention, and Blucher and Wellington were about to enter the capital and reseat Louis on the throne. The only alternative, therefore, was to open negotiations with Captain Maitland, who commanded the Bellerophon, an English man-of-war which had taken up its station at Rochefort two days before the arrival of the ex-Emperor.

On being asked for a safe conduct to America the English commander replied that his orders were to make every effort to prevent "Bonaparte" from escaping, and if so fortunate as to obtain possession of his person, to sail at once with him for England. Savary and Las Casas, who conducted the negotiations, were unable to exact a definite promise from the captain, when they visited him on the 10th of July, or to learn from him if it was the intention of the British government to throw any impediment in the way of his voyage to the United States. In the course of the conversation, Captain Maitland, according to his own statement, threw out the suggestion, "Why not seek an asylum in England?" to which various objections were urged by Savary, and thus the interview terminated.