Chapter V (2)

Thus, as Brialmont remarks, whatever might be the numerical proportion of the two armies, “when we come to look at the respective qualities of the troops, the inferiority of the Anglo-Belgian army _was enormous_. Not only was it composed of heterogeneous elements, but it consisted almost entirely of young soldiers, a large proportion of whom had never been under fire. The Hanoverian contingent was made up of militia; and many regiments were fit only for garrison duty.”[25]

The evening which preceded the memorable 18th of June was dark and cloudy; the rain fell in torrents, and the men were often ankle-deep in water. But, however deplorable might be their outward condition, the interest of this eventful moment rendered the combatants on either side, almost insensible to physical sufferings. Every man in both armies knew that a great and decisive battle was to be fought on the following day. With the opening morning, then, would begin what might prove the final contest,--ending a strife of nations which had lasted more than twenty years. The two greatest Generals of the age were for the first time to be brought into collision: the conqueror of Europe was to measure swords with the deliverer of Spain. No two such leaders, it has been well observed, had confronted each other, since Hannibal and Scipio met at Zama.

Doubtless, and very naturally, the greatest degree of confidence was felt in the camp of the invaders. The French soldiers relied with reason on the extraordinary talents of their great leader, victorious in fifty contests, foiled in scarcely any. The men who stood by his side, too, were the veterans who had marched triumphantly over many victorious fields, and who now felt defeat, under such a Captain, to be scarcely possible. They were confident, too, in their numbers. All of them had heard that the Emperor had carried over the frontier a picked army of 150,000 men. They saw on the heights around them the first and second corps, amounting together to nearly 50,000 men, with the sixth, less numerous, in reserve. The Imperial Guard was there, from 18,000 to 20,000 strong,--the finest troops that France had ever possessed, and the cuirassiers, nearly 6,000 in number. What could a mixed force of a few English, joined with Belgians, Hanoverians, and Dutchmen, do against such a power?

Very naturally, therefore, we learn from Gourgaud, that “the French troops were full of enthusiasm. Such were the acclamations of joy, that they prevented the orders from being heard.”[26] From Napoleon to his Generals, from the Generals to the troops, the feeling had spread and become universal. “Ah! we have them, then,--these English!”

The British troops had not the same ground of confidence. They knew well that their own numbers did not amount to one-third of the strength of Napoleon’s army, and that the Hanoverian and Belgian landwehr, by whom their line was to be filled up, were of very uncertain value. Many of the battalions, both English and foreign, had never been in action before. Still, they had a great and well-founded trust in their Commander; and with a spirit like his own, they meant to _do their duty_, and while they lived, to stand their ground.

The field of Waterloo, or the heights of Mont St. Jean, as the English and the French respectively call this spot, is a piece of slightly-elevated ground lying, as we have already said, about 1000 yards in advance of the village of Waterloo. Brussels, in which Napoleon intended to sleep that night, was about nine miles in the rear of the English army. The main road from Charleroi to Brussels passed through the French position, descended into the valley, and then ascended Mont St. Jean, cutting the English position at right angles near a farm-house called La Haye Sainte. The English line lay about 200 yards behind this farm-house. Here was the centre and left centre. In advance of the right wing of the English army, and between it and the left wing of the French, stood a larger house, surrounded by walled gardens and orchards, and called Hougoumont. As this place would have afforded great advantages to the French in preparing attacking columns, the Duke placed in it some companies of the Foot-Guards, with some Nassau and Hanoverian troops, and enjoined its resolute defence. Well were his orders obeyed, for the utmost efforts of a whole army corps of the French were ineffectual to carry this position. The French lost 6 or 8000 men in the attempt, but up to the very close of the day the English Foot-Guards maintained their possession.

The position of Waterloo was deliberately chosen by the Duke, and the choice is commended by all unprejudiced critics. Yet Napoleon, ungenerous throughout, strives to depreciate his antagonist’s judgment in this particular. He says, in “Book ix:”--“The English General had in his rear the defiles of the forest of Soignes, so that if beaten, retreat was impossible” (p. 125). Upon which M. Lamartine observes: “In fighting on the borders of a forest fortified in all its approaches, as well as by its own impenetrability, the Duke had every pledge of victory, if victory was possible; and of a secure retreat if defeat were unavoidable. Waterloo was an admirable field of battle, and it is to be regretted that Napoleon has not acknowledged this, but has obstinately striven to prove that his conqueror was unworthy of him. These are the littlenesses of glory. The choice of Waterloo on Wellington’s part was a further mark of that genius, at once resolute, powerful, and prudent, which has characterized all the campaigns of this General.”

It should be added, that the Duke, during five years of constant warfare with the French armies, had never once been beaten by them in a pitched battle. Nor had he any thought of retreating upon the present occasion, or any desire to make a special provision for such an emergency. In after years he dropped the remark: “I knew that they could never so beat us, but that we could have made good the forest against them.”

And now the several divisions of the two armies were placed in the positions which to the two commanders seemed suitable. On the left of Napoleon’s line he placed his second corps, which he himself states to have consisted of 17,000 men, and which undoubtedly was nearer 20,000. This corps, to which his brother Jerome was attached, was ordered to seize upon Hougoumont, and then to attack the right of the British army. Napoleon’s right wing was formed of his first corps, under Ney’s command. This corps had not yet been in action, and was complete. Napoleon sets down its strength us 17,900 men; but Ney, who commanded it, describes it as “from twenty-five to thirty thousand.” In the second line stood the sixth corps, consisting of 7 or 8000 men; the heavy cavalry, of about 7000; and in a third line stood the Imperial Guard, which, of cavalry and infantry, had at least 18,000. The artillery numbered more than 6000 men, with 240 cannon. The entire force was probably described with truth in Napoleon’s bulletin of the battle, in which he calls it “less than 95,000.”

Against these the Duke had to place in position, on the opposite heights, his 15,181 British infantry, his 3,300 infantry of the German Legion, and about 28,000 Belgians, Hanoverians, and Brunswickers. Many of these showed themselves, in the battle, unable to stand a French attack. In the second line he had 7,840 English and German cavalry, and about 4,500 Belgians, Hanoverians, and Brunswickers. His artillery (English, Belgian, &c.,) were 5,600 and his guns, 156. At Hal and Enghien, on the road from Mons to Brussels, the Duke placed a detachment of 5,819 men to guard against any possible device in that quarter. These could take no part in the battle, being fixed by their orders at a distance of several miles from it.

The Duke had slept for a few hours at his headquarters in the village of Waterloo, and then rising before dawn on the morning of the 18th he wrote several letters, in which he expressed his confidence that all would go well, but still gave specific orders for all that was to be done in Brussels, Antwerp, &c., in the event of the success of the French attack. He then saw to the distribution of the reserves of artillery, which had been packed in the village, so that supplies should be readily forwarded to every point where they might be needed. He also personally inspected the arrangements made for the reception of the wounded. Then mounting his horse Copenhagen, he rode to Hougoumont, and thence down a lane leading through the wood beyond it. Halting on the eastern slant of the thicket, he narrowly surveyed all of the enemy’s arrangements that could be seen. Then giving some final orders at Hougoumont, he galloped back to the high ground in the right centre of his position, where he began to chat with the members of his staff with as much liveliness as if they were about to take part in an ordinary review.

There was now a pause of considerable duration. This was one of the chief mistakes committed by Napoleon. He had before him, as he well know, an army exceedingly inferior to his own; so inferior, in short, that it was a matter of joyful surprise to him that the Duke had not decamped in the night. But on his right he knew that there was Grouchy with less than 40,000 men, opposed to Blucher, who had 80,000 or 90,000. It was obvious to every one that the Prussian general might, and probably would, engage Grouchy with one or two corps, and carry the rest of his army to the succour of the English. It was, then, a great error not to use the present opportunity with decision and rapidity. He accounts for the delay by the state of the ground; but when Grouchy justified his inertness at Wavre by the same plea, Napoleon exclaims, in “Book ix,” p. 153, “The dreadful state of the weather, ridiculous motive!”

The village clock was striking eleven when the first gun was fired from the French centre, and this great battle began, which only ended with the darkness of night. There has never been a battle which was so distinctly divided, like a drama, into four or five acts. These were: 1. The attack on Hougoumont and the English right; 2. The attack on La Haye Sainte and the English centre and left; 3. The irruption of the French heavy cavalry upon the centre of the English position; 4. The Prussian diversion; 5. The charge of the Imperial Guard, and final defeat of the French army. These several acts or stages in this great contest usually followed each other at intervals of about two hours, _i.e._ at 11, at 1, at 3, at 5, and at 7 o’clock. There cannot, therefore, be a better way of obtaining a clear idea of the progress of this tremendous struggle, than by passing in review these five acts or stages, just us they occurred, and distinctly from each other.

ELEVEN O’CLOCK.

Precisely at this hour the French artillery opened fire upon the orchards of Hougoumont, and Jerome, with his division, moved forward to the attack. As we have seen, Napoleon himself assigns to his second corps, to whom this duty was assigned, a strength of 17,900 men; and, reasoning upon his uniform practice of diminishing his real numbers, we may safely estimate its real force at 20,000. This corps was to storm and take Hougoumont, and then, from this position, to annoy and perhaps to attack with success, the Duke’s right. But it never succeeded even in its first object. The whole power of these 18,000 or 20,000 men failed to carry a post which was never garrisoned by so many us 2,800. Thus, Gourgaud tells us that at noon “Prince Jerome with his division took possession of the wood: he was driven out, but a new attack once more rendered him master of it. The enemy, however, kept possession of the largo house in the centre.” Again, at half-past four, he says, “General Reille supported the attack of Jerome’s division by Foy’s division. (Each being 5,000 or 6,000 strong.) Howitzers had set fire to the house and nearly destroyed it; three-fourths of the wood was in our possession; the fields were strewed with the English guards, the flower of the enemy’s army.” But beyond this partial success the French never attained. They never carried the chateau itself, but in the attempt they lost from 6,000 to 8,000 men, while the killed and wounded of the defenders amounted to a few hundreds only. This portion of the battle lasted from noon until night, and all that the French could boast of, was, that with five or seven times the number of the British, they obtained possession of “three-fourths of the wood.”[27] Napoleon says, in “Book ix,” “The wood remained in the possession of the French; but the chateau, in which some hundreds of intrepid English troops defended themselves, opposed an invincible resistance.”[28]

ONE O’CLOCK.

But now, having commenced the battle by this vehement assault on Hougoumont by his left wing, Napoleon prepared what he admits to be his main attack, on the Duke’s centre and left, by Count d’Erlon’s whole corps, led by Marshal Ney. This was the corps which had not been engaged at either Ligny or Quatre Bras. Napoleon states its strength at 17,900; but Ney more frankly describes it us between “twenty-five and thirty thousand.” This force was directed against the centre of the English position. Throughout the day Napoleon seemed to rely on _mere strength_. He knew that he was superior on every point, in each branch of the service, and in every particular, and he had never experienced the obstinate endurance of the English infantry. Thus, as the Duke afterwards said, “He did not manœuvre at all. He just moved forward, in the old style, in columns, and was driven off in the old style.”

Great were the expectations based on this attack. Napoleon himself said to Ney: “This is a day and an action worthy of you: I give you the command of the centre; and it is you who are to gain the battle.”[29] But while all the French accounts admit the vast importance which was attached to this, the main attack, they entirely forget to say _what was the result of it_. Thus Gourgaud writes: “The Emperor directed Marshal Ney to commence the attack, and to take possession of La Haye Sainte;” “Our infantry advanced;” “The enemy’s line, however, made no manœuvre; it maintained its immobility. His cavalry made several successful charges on the flank of one of the columns of the first corps, and about 15 of our pieces of artillery, which were advancing, were driven back into a hollow road. One of Milhaud’s brigades of Cuirassiers advanced against this cavalry, and the field of battle was soon covered with their slain. When the Emperor perceived that some disorder prevailed on our right, he proceeded at full gallop.”[30]

Napoleon says, in “Book ix,” “Many charges of infantry and cavalry followed it; the detail of them belong more to the history of each regiment, than to the general history of the battle; it is enough to say, that after three hours’ fighting, the farm of La Haye Sainte was occupied by the French infantry; while the end which the Emperor had in view was obtained.”[31]

Thus, from the French accounts, we gain no intelligible information as to the actual result of this attack of 25,000 men on the English centre; except, indeed, that Gourgaud’s single phrase, “the enemy’s line maintained its immobility,” tacitly implies that the attack failed. We turn, then, to the English narrators, and learn from them what actually occurred.

“Seventy-four guns” (“Book ix,” says eighty) were ordered forward to a little elevation, so as to bring their fire to bear upon the English line at a range of about 700 yards. Soon after, as two o’clock approached, the columns of attack, under Ney’s command, were seen descending from their elevated ground, crossing the valley, and ascending the northern slope. The British artillery gave them a warm reception; but still the columns pressed on, until they approached the Duke’s line, near the centre and left centre. Here were placed the brigade of Sir Thomas Picton, about 3000 strong; and a Belgic-Dutch brigade under Bylandt. As the French columns drew near, with shouts of “Vive l’Empereur!” the courage of the Belgians gave way, and the whole brigade, amidst the groans and hooting of the British soldiers, begun a hasty movement to the rear, from which they could not be induced to advance during the whole remainder of the day.

Left thus to himself, to sustain the whole attack of twice or three times his numbers, the gallant Picton never hesitated. Forming his little band two deep, he waited till the French column came within charging distance. It then halted, and endeavoured to deploy into line. Saluting it, at this moment, with a volley from his whole brigade, Picton gave the word “Charge!” and his men sprang forward with the bayonet. In an instant the whole French column was in confusion; and before they had time to recover themselves, Ponsonby’s brigade of heavy cavalry, the Royals, the Scots Greys, and the Enniskilleners, broke in upon them, and in a few moments the whole side of the hill was covered with fugitives. The heroic leader of “the fighting division,” however, the gallant Picton, fell, shot through the brain in the moment of triumph. Another fierce encounter was at hand. Milhaud’s Cuirassiers were close behind the French columns, and they essayed to retrieve the fight. But the Household Brigade met them, and after a desperate encounter--of the best horsemen in England and the best in France--the whole mass of the French, horse and foot, were driven back in confusion, leaving behind them the eagles of the 45th and 105th regiments, and nearly 3000 prisoners. The grand attack of Ney on the British centre had failed; and the first corps of the French army was so seriously cut up and disorganized, as to be in no condition to renew the attack. We now understand Gourgaud’s confessions, “The enemy’s cavalry made several successful charges on the flank of one of the columns of the first corps;” and, “when the Emperor perceived that some disorder prevailed on our right, he proceeded thither at full gallop.”

It was now considerably past two o’clock. The principal attack had been repelled: the English position had not been forced, or even endangered. “The enemy’s line,” says Gourgaud, “maintained its immobility.” But Napoleon’s second corps had been beaten and much damaged at Hougoumont; and now his first was crippled and nearly disabled in front of La Haye Sainte. In this strait, either Ney or Napoleon, or both of them, still confident in their superior strength, had recourse to a desperate measure, which had, indeed, a probability of success; but which, if it failed, would involve a serious danger.

They had, still untouched, or nearly so, a reserve of what Napoleon himself styles, “twelve thousand select horse,” the two corps of Cuirassiers, the light cavalry of the Guard, and the horse grenadiers and dragoons of the Guard. There need be no dispute as to the strength of this force, since Napoleon himself twice states it to have been 12,000.

THREE O’CLOCK.

At this period of the battle, then, desperate at the two failures on the left and on the right, either Ney or his master launched this enormous mass of “select cavalry” against the centre of the British line. The error, if it is one, is sought by Napoleon to be charged on somebody else. In his bulletin, written at the time, he says:--

“Our two divisions of cuirassiers being engaged, all our cavalry ran at the same moment to support their comrades.”

Gourgaud endeavours to cast the blame upon Ney, saying:--

“Marshal Ney, borne away by excess of ardour, lost sight of the orders he had received; he debouched on the level height, which was immediately crowned by two divisions of Milhaud’s cuirassiers, and the light cavalry of the Guard. The emperor observed to Marshal Soult, “This is a premature movement, which may be attended with fatal consequences.”

These accounts would represent Napoleon himself famous for his rapidity and decision, to have had no command over his own troops. They are, therefore, not credible.

But remembering that Napoleon was himself at this moment in a forward position, and that the heavy cavalry placed in the rear as a reserve force must have defiled past him, we must at least believe him to have permitted this movement. Gourgaud says that Ney ordered forward Milhaud’s Cuirassiers, and that “the emperor ordered Kellerman’s corps to support him.” Colonel Heymes, aide-de-camp to Ney, says, “That movement took place under the eyes of the emperor, who might have stopped it, but did not.” Still as he afterwards, in private conversation, charged the fault on Ney,[32] we must suppose that the marshal, in his desperation, called for the reserve of cavalry, and that Napoleon permitted him to employ them. However this might be, it is certain that about three or four o’clock--the attack of the first corps on the centre and left of the English having failed, the whole mass of the “cavalry of reserve,” was brought forward and thrown upon the centre of the Duke’s position. Such an assault has rarely been made upon any other army in modern times. Deducting the troops in Hougoumont, and the losses from four hours’ fighting, there could not have been at this moment so many as 12,000 British infantry in the whole line. Yet it is from Napoleon’s own narrative that we learn, that upon this weak array there was launched a mass of 12,000 heavy horse, 6,000 of whom wore armour, and who seemed, in their united strength, able positively to ride down the insignificant force of resolute soldiers who still kept the heights of Mont St. Jean.

The British accounts generally divide this tremendous onset of the cavalry into two attacks, the first, between three and four o’clock, when forty squadrons, twenty-one of them being composed of cuirassiers, ascended the heights behind La Haye Sainte; the second perhaps an hour later, when the first assailants, having found it difficult to maintain their ground were rallied behind thirty-seven fresh squadrons sent by Napoleon to their succour. And this agrees with Gourgaud’s account who tells us, first, that “Ney debouched upon the level height, with Milhaud’s Cuirassiers and the light cavalry of the Guard,” and then adds, a little after, that “the Emperor directed Kellerman’s Cuirassiers to support the cavalry on the height lest it should be repulsed.” It is clear, therefore, that the first onset of 5,000 or 6,000 men had failed, or was in danger of failing, when Napoleon sent forward a second until, as he himself says, the whole “twelve thousand select horse” were involved in the struggle.

How it was that this tremendous attack failed, it is not easy at this distance of time to understand. The whole of the infantry in the British line were quickly formed into squares; the front ranks kneeling and presenting fixed bayonets, and the second and third lines keeping up a constant fire of musketry. The artillery, also, saluted the intruders with grape-shot; but many of the British guns were soon taken possession of by the cuirassiers. The Duke, always prepared for every emergency, had instructed the artillerymen that they should, on the approach of danger, take off a wheel and retire with it into the nearest square of infantry. Thus the cuirassiers, when they had seized a gun, found themselves hampered with it, and while they were trying to carry it off, the musketry of the British squares thinned their numbers.

Wellington, in describing the battle in a letter to Marshal Beresford, said, “I had the infantry for some time in squares, and the French cavalry walking about us as if it had been our own.”

There probably never was such a trial of “pluck” as this part of the contest presented. It was a hand-to-hand struggle, _lasting two or three hours_. Had a regiment of cuirassiers ever found courage enough to throw themselves on the British bayonets, there can be little doubt that some of the weaker squares might have been broken. But this never once occurred. Gourgaud, indeed, says, “Our cavalry penetrated many of the enemy’s squares, and took three standards,” but he must here be speaking of the Belgian or Hanoverian troops, many of whom were unsteady, and some of whom were scattered and cut up. There was, in fact, no absolute reliance to be placed on any but the British troops, and some of the best of the German. A whole Dutch-Belgian brigade, on the approach of the cuirassiers, moved off without firing a shot. After several charges of the British horse upon portions of the French cavalry, Lord Uxbridge put himself at the head of Tripp’s brigade of Dutch-Belgian carabineers, and ordered them to charge; and so they did, but not until they had first turned their backs to the enemy! Somewhat later, he ordered forward the Hanoverian regiment called the Cumberland hussars; but the colonel “did not see what good was to be done” by moving him from his snug position, which was out of reach of the firing. He added, that he could not answer for his men, for that they rode their own horses, and could not afford to lose them! Receiving from Lord Uxbridge the vehement reproof which might have been expected, he and his men moved off to Brussels, where they spread the report that the allied army was destroyed, and that Napoleon was advancing at the head of his Guards!

Yet this tremendous attack failed, as the two preceding attacks had done. And its failure was one chief cause of Napoleon’s ruin. He had risked his cavalry reserve, and had lost it. For it is a remarkable and wonderful fact, that, continuing this struggle for two or three hours, this splendid body of “twelve thousand select cavalry” was wholly destroyed. Individuals, and parties of fugitives, doubtless escaped, and their number in the aggregate might be considerable; but this arm of the service was utterly disabled. In his Bulletin, Napoleon said, “For three hours numerous charges were made, several squares penetrated, and six standards taken;--an advantage bearing no proportion to the loss which our cavalry experienced by the grape-shot and musket-firing.” Fleury de Chaboulon, his secretary, says, “Our cavalry, exposed to the incessant firing of the enemy’s batteries and infantry, sustained and executed numerous brilliant charges, took six flags, and dismounted several batteries; but in this conflict we lost the flower of our intrepid cuirassiers, and of the cavalry of the Guard.” He adds, that on reaching Paris, and describing the battle, the emperor said, “Ney behaved like a madman!--he got my cavalry _massacred_ for me.” And it is the chief complaint of all the French accounts, that when at the close of the day the English horse swept over the field, the Emperor had not a single regiment of cavalry to oppose to them![33] The “twelve thousand select cavalry” had broken into the English position; but, except as scattered fugitives, they never returned!

FIVE O’CLOCK.

But the battle had now lasted six hours, and Napoleon had allowed his opportunity to pass away. Five o’clock brought the Prussians; and after they had entered the field a decisive victory for Napoleon became impossible.

Bent on his object of proving that he had been not so much beaten as overpowered by numbers, Napoleon in his “Book ix,” brings the Prussians into the field at _noon-day_! In doing this he does not scruple to employ the most direct and obvious falsehood. To give a single instance,--Gourgaud, his _aide-de-camp_, in his account of the battle, thus writes:

“It was _half-past four o’clock_, and the most vigorous fire was still kept up on every side. _At this moment_ General Domont informed his Majesty that he observed Bulow’s corps in movement, and that a division of 8,000 or 10,000 Prussians was debouching from the woods of Frischenois.”

Yet in “Book ix” Napoleon does not hesitate to say: At _two o’clock_ in the afternoon General Domont had given notice that Bulow formed in three columns; that the enemy appeared to him to be very numerous,--he estimated the corps at 40,000 men.”

But he does not even postpone their arrival until two o’clock:--two pages earlier he insists upon it that he saw them, in the distance, at _noon_.[34] Now as it is absolutely certain that, with the greatest exertion, the earliest of the Prussian brigades were unable to reach the field until half-past four, we may be sure that at twelve o’clock they must have been eight or ten miles off! Hence this passage in “Book ix” must either be a downright fiction; or else Napoleon must have discovered on a distant hill a party of the Prussian staff who had ridden forward to observe the position of affairs, and who must have been magnified by his alarms into an army-corps!

The real time of the arrival of the Prussians is one of the most clearly-defined facts of the whole history. All the witnesses agree upon it. We have just cited Gourgaud’s words, that “at half-past four General Domont observed a division of 8,000 to 10,000 Prussians debouching from the woods of Frischenois.”

In strict agreement with which the Prussian official account says.

“It was half-past four o’clock.... The difficulties of the road had retarded the march of the Prussian columns; so that only two brigades had arrived at the covered position which was assigned them. The generals resolved to begin the attack with the troops which they had at hand.”[35]

And General Drouet, who was at Napoleon’s side during the action, said, in his speech in the Chamber of Peers on the 24th of June, 1815,--“The Prussians began to attack us at about half-past five in the afternoon.”

It is quite clear, then, and beyond all dispute, that the Prussians first began to enter the field of battle, and to be visible to the French at half-past four in the afternoon; that the Prussian commanders immediately proceeded to make arrangements for an attack;--and that their first collision with the French troops took place about half-past five in the afternoon.

But Napoleon had been forewarned of their approach; for his flying parties had brought in, he tells us, two or three hours before, a Prussian hussar who was bearing a letter to the Duke of Wellington, announcing that General Bulow and his corps were on their march. Hence Napoleon had already set apart his sixth corps, under Count Lobau, to receive the Prussians whenever they should make their appearance.

He introduces at this period many complaints of Marshal Grouchy, who, he pretends, ought to have followed Bulow’s corps, and have taken part in the battle of Waterloo. This is the very height of injustice and absurdity; since he had employed Grouchy distinctly to follow and occupy the attention of the main body of the Prussian army; and in obedience to this command the marshal was at that moment engaged with the Prussian third corps at Wavre. But, on looking at Napoleon’s first bulletin of the battle, we see that this aspersion of Grouchy is an afterthought,--a mere device to lessen his own defeat. Writing at the time, and giving to France a full account of the battle, in that bulletin _not one word_ of any default of Grouchy’s appears.

This, of itself, is enough to show the hollowness of the excuse for the loss of the battle. Grouchy himself, when the “ixth Book” made its appearance, instantly wrote and published an indignant denial of its statements; and Brialmont remarks, that “Napoleon has so expressed himself to make it clear that he was anxious to diminish the amount of his own responsibility by sacrificing the reputation of his subordinates. Thus he pretends that he received on the night of the 17th a letter from Grouchy, which letter _never could have existed_.”

But Gourgaud himself, Napoleon’s own aide-de-camp, is the best witness in exculpation of Grouchy. He tells us, that in the afternoon, hearing the cannonade of Waterloo, General Excelmans urged upon Grouchy to leave following the Prussians and to march towards the cannonade. But Grouchy, “though he burnt with desire to take part in the great battle, _showed Excelmans his instructions_, which were to march upon Wavre, and said, that he could not take such a responsibility on himself.”[36] It is clear therefore, that up to the afternoon of the 18th Grouchy had no other orders than those which bade him follow the Prussians who were in position at Wavre.

Grouchy then, was not at Waterloo, simply because Napoleon had sent him to Wavre, a town some twelve miles distant; and because he was there engaged in a struggle with the third Prussian corps. But the fourth Prussian corps was at Waterloo at five o’clock, because Blucher had promised to send it there, and because Wellington expected it; and gave battle with inferior forces, relying on this assistance. Napoleon ought to have foreseen the probability of all this,--and, foreseeing it, he ought to have delivered his blows more rapidly so as to break the English line, if that were possible, before the Prussians could enter the field. But now that he had allowed his opportunity to pass, and now that Bulow was actually beginning to take part in the battle,--what was the respective strength ranged on either side? This question must be answered; for Napoleon says, “The enemy’s army had just been augmented by 30,000 men, already ranged on the held of battle; thus placing 120,000 men against 69,000, or two to one.” (p. 148.) And then he immediately afterwards, adds “It was _noon_.”

This statement, however, like most of Napoleon’s other statements, is untrue. The Duke’s army had never amounted to 70,000 men, of whom some 10 or 15,000 were merely nominal combatants, whom it was impossible to persuade to fight. And Napoleon wilfully overlooks the plain averment of the Prussian official account, that when their commanders began the attack,--not at _noon_, but some time after half-past four, _only two brigades_, had arrived on the field. Captain Siborne, who took the greatest pains to ascertain every fact of the case, states that at half-past four o’clock the Prussian force which had come up, amounted to 16,000 men; which, added to the Duke’s army of 68,000, made a joint force of about 84,000; but, if the non-fighting part of the Duke’s army were deducted,--of scarcely 70,000. Thus, even with the addition of the newly-arrived Prussians, the allied force was still numerically weaker than Napoleon’s army.

This diversion, however, which was caused so opportunely by Bulow’s arrival, naturally brought great relief to the British line. It drew off Count Lobau’s corps, the sixth, of 7000 men, which might otherwise have been sent forward to attack the British centre. The remark, however, which is sometimes made, that “the English were saved by arrival of the Prussians,” is singularly absurd. Bulow’s arrival was not an unexpected thing; or a lucky chance;--it was a part of the Duke’s plan. He had demanded this aid of Blucher, and had obtained the promise of it, and without this aid, his acceptance of battle would have been an act of great temerity. The arrival of the Prussians, so far from being unexpected, had been calculated on three hours earlier; Blucher having promised that they should be in the field by two o’clock.

And sorely had they been needed. The “thin red line” of the British infantry had scarcely ever found it so difficult to maintain its ground. At this moment, as we have already remarked, there could not have been so many as 12,000 of this branch of the Duke’s army left in position. And yet upon them rested the whole burden of the battle. Some of the German troops behaved gallantly; but of the mixed mass of 25,000 Belgians, Hanoverians, Dutchmen, &c., a large proportion were unable to stand the French attacks. So soon as one of Napoleon’s columns approached them, they became unsteady, and often went to the rear. Meanwhile there still stood in front of the Duke’s right wing, the second corps; and in front of his left wing, the first corps; and all that were left of Napoleon’s “12,000 select cavalry” were riding about the British position, as if they were masters of it. This hour, then, or two hours, from five o’clock till seven, must have been a most anxious one for the British General and his troops. The commander of one brigade sent to the Duke to beg for some relief or reinforcement; and the answer he received was, “Tell him, that what he wishes is impossible. He, and I, and every man here, must fight till we die on the spot where we stand.” Some one asked for a general instruction, as to what plan should be followed if the Duke himself should fall. “My only plan,” said the Duke, “is to stand my ground here to the last man.” Long after the battle, he remarked, of this period of the day, “I looked oftener at my watch than at anything else. I knew that if my troops could keep their position till night, I must be joined by Blucher before morning; and we should not have left Bonaparte an army next day. But I was glad, as one hour of day-light slipped away after another, and our position was still maintained.” It is scarcely possible for words to imply more distinctly, that the Duke felt that he was standing his ground with an inferior force; relying on Blucher’s aid, to enable him to strike a blow in return.

Meanwhile, as he was constantly calm, so he was ever hopeful and high-minded. An Italian officer in the French service, being taken prisoner afterwards described the dismay he felt, on observing the quietness of the Duke’s demeanour, and the calmness of his countenance; which forced him to think that he must have some concealed reserve, of which the French generals knew nothing. His brief remarks, too, were always cheerful and reassuring. A young Piedmontese officer made himself useful, in carrying orders. “Were you ever in a battle before?” asked the Duke. “No, my lord.” “Then you are a lucky fellow, for you will never see such another!” was the rejoinder. At another time, encouraging the 95th regiment, expecting a charge of cavalry, he said, “Stand fast! 95th, we musn’t be beat; what would they say in England!” Shortly after, when the French cavalry came on with threatening aspect, he said, “Never mind, we’ll win this battle yet!” To a regiment exposed to a brisk cannonade, he remarked, “Hard pounding this! let’s see who’ll pound longest!” Often he was evidently the object of the enemy’s aim, and a tree under which he sometimes took his stand, was repeatedly struck. “That’s good practice,” said the Duke; “I think they fire better than in Spain.” But, as we have said, he was ever high-minded; and when an officer of artillery came to the Duke to tell him, that he had a clear view of Napoleon, and had several guns pointed in that direction, the Duke exclaimed, “No! I’ll not allow it. It is not the business of commanders to be firing upon one another!”

At half-past five, according to Count Drouet, the Prussians first came into collision with the sixth corps, which, with Domont’s cavalry, had been placed on Napoleon’s right wing, specially to give these new comers a warm reception. The contest soon became an earnest one on this side; Planchenoit, in the rear of Napoleon’s right centre, was taken, and retaken, and he felt obliged to send some battalions of the Young Guard to strengthen Count Lobau. In this new struggle an hour or more passed, and seven o’clock, the last hour of the day drew on.

Here Gourgaud stops to claim a triumph. He says, “65 to 68,000 French troops _had beaten_ 115,000 English, Prussians, &c.” But then he adds, “The Emperor was of opinion that this was the moment for making a decisive attack, and _determining the fate of the day_.” So that, although the English and Prussians are assumed to be beaten, the “fate of the day” remains “to be determined.”

In fact, not one single step in retreat had the English army yet taken. About six o’clock, indeed, the farm-house of La Haye Sainte was abandoned by its English defenders, simply because their ammunition was expended, and without ammunition they could not defend the place. This was the one solitary advantage gained by the French in the whole day; and even this was not wrested by them from the English; the post was evacuated by the latter for the reason we have stated. And La Haye Sainte, it should be remembered, was about 200 yards _in advance_ of the British line. It was an outpost, and not a part of the main line. Its capture at an earlier period might have seriously endangered the Duke’s centre; but at this late hour Napoleon had but one card left to play, and in playing it the possession of La Haye Sainte did not greatly aid him.

Up to seven o’clock, then, this one poor outpost was the only foot of ground gained by the French, in compensation for what Ney calls “the most frightful carnage that I have ever witnessed.” He is not here speaking of the defeat of the Imperial Guard, but of what preceded it. He had led, at one o’clock, the attack by D’Erlon’s corps on the centre and left of the English position, and at three o’clock he had sent the heavy cavalry in among the British battalions. It is of these two attacks that Ney is speaking, and of the manner in which they were repulsed; and this veteran soldier, after witnessing Borodino, Leipsic, and twenty other fields of slaughter, describes the defeat of the first corps, and the destruction of the cavalry, as a “carnage” the like of which he had never before beheld.

“The Emperor,” says Gourgaud, “was now of opinion that the moment was come for making a decisive attack, and determining the fate of the day.” Yes, the moment was come; for, if the matter had been left as it stood, Napoleon’s overthrow on the following morning would have been made certain. “I knew,” said the Duke, long after, “that if my troops could keep their position till night, I must be joined by Blucher before morning, and we should not have left Bonaparte an army next day.” To keep the English and Prussian armies apart had been Napoleon’s chief endeavour, but the sagacity and military talent of the two Generals had defeated this purpose. The French army had only crossed the frontier on the 15th, and here, on the 18th, were the two allied armies already uniting on the same battle-field. When, therefore, Gourgaud tells us, in lofty and decorous language, that “the Emperor was of opinion that this was the moment for making a decisive attack, and determining the fate of the day,” the real meaning of these dignified phrases is, that Napoleon saw that one chance only remained to him, and that he must break the British line by the whole force of the Imperial Guard, or retire from the field a discomfited commander; to sustain in his turn an attack from the united armies the very next day. His strongest army-corps, the first and second, had both been cut up and crippled; his splendid cavalry were at that moment being “massacred” by the English grapeshot and musket-firing; and the only weapon of power that remained to him was this noble body of men, who had triumphed in fifty battles--his invincible phalanx, the Imperial Guard. At seven o’clock, therefore, or about that hour, he turned to this, his last resource, and ordered to the front this chosen and favourite arm, the right employment of which had given him so many victories.

SEVEN O’CLOCK.

It is not easy, amidst the various and contradictory accounts of the different French historians, to ascertain with exactness the real force employed in this attack. The Young Guard, under General Duhesme, had been partly employed in the defence of Planchenoit. The Old Guard, and the Middle Guard, had not up to this period of the battle drawn a trigger. Their strength is stated by Gourgaud to have been on this day 4400 and 4200, or, united, 8600 men.[37] This force far exceeded any strength which the Duke could bring to bear upon any given point. In fact the two brigades of General Maitland and General Adam had to sustain this attack. The first, consisting of two battalions of Foot-guards, had marched forth two days before 1997 strong. On the evening of Waterloo it numbered only 1027; and doubtless, when this attack of the Imperial Guard came, it had not more than 1100 or 1150 bayonets. The other, General Adam’s brigade, consisting of the 52nd, 71st, and 95th regiments, had been 2621 strong, but it was now reduced to about 2000. Such was the force on either side which was now to engage in the last terrible encounter of this great contest.

But, while he was preparing for what he hoped would be the decisive blow, Napoleon sent orders to both his wings to prepare for a renewed attack, simultaneously, on Hougoumont and on the British left and centre. The chateau defended itself bravely and successfully, as it had done throughout the day. But the possession of La Haye Sainte gave the first corps of the French army great advantages, and the pressure on the British line at this point became fearfully severe. A German battalion was cut up by a charge of French cuirassiers: a body of Brunswick infantry, which the Duke had moved up to strengthen the line, gave way, and retired about 100 paces, and it required all the Duke’s personal exertions to bring them to reform and stand their ground. The Prince of Orange had been wounded, and the Nassau troops under his command were with great difficulty induced to keep their ground. The British line had never been in so much danger of being broken as at this moment. But scarcely an hour of the day now remained, and the contest which was just taking place on the right centre was to be decisive of the fate of the day.

The grand attack of the Imperial Guard, to which Napoleon looked to decide the fate of his empire, was now beginning. Captain Siborne states the two columns of attack to have consisted of ten battalions, besides two battalions left as a reserve. If these battalions consisted of 600 men each, they would amount to 6000; but if of 720 men each, they would amount, on the whole, to 7200 men, and these were unquestionably the first soldiers in France.

These columns were formed in front of La Belle Alliance, and began their advance with that kind of mismanagement which had marked many of the movements of the French leaders throughout the day; they did not advance simultaneously, but the first column preceded the second, although the two took different courses. Neither did they assail that part of the Duke’s line which was the weakest, but threw themselves upon two brigades of the British infantry.

Of the two columns,--one of which skirted the enclosures of Hougoumont, and aimed at the right of the British line, while the other made its onset nearer to the centre,--the latter gained the precedence. As it descended into the valley, and allowed the French artillery on the heights behind an opportunity for action, the whole of these guns opened fire with a rapidity and weight which had not been experienced before throughout the day. Wherever a regiment was visible in the British line, there the round-shot and howitzer shells rained death upon it. But by degrees the attacking columns passed through the hollow ground, and began to ascend the opposite heights. Now they became visible to the British artillery, and the cannon-shot plunged into their masses with tremendous effect. The horse of Marshal Ney was killed; General Friant was wounded, and General Michel was killed. On the fall of the latter, a battalion of grenadiers came to a halt; but another General succeeded in inspiring it with new courage. The column moved forward, sorely shaken by its losses; but at last it crowned the height, and to its astonishment saw nothing before it but a small battery of field-pieces, and a few mounted officers in the rear. But one of these was the Duke, and the next moment the word of command was heard, “Up, Guards, and at them!” The British Guards, who had been ordered to lie down, sprang to their feet, in a compact line of four deep, and in a few seconds, a volley was heard, and then another, and a third; and in the first minute 300 of the attacking column fell. The French officers rushed to the front, and called upon the men to deploy into line. Lord Saltoun exclaimed to the English Guards, “Now’s your time, my boys!”--and the Duke exclaimed, “Charge!” The brigade sprang forward, with a cheer, to the charge. All was disorder in the French ranks. Many flung down their arms and knapsacks and dispersed; the mass, in dire confusion, rushed down the slope, with the English Guards in full pursuit.

But the English were instantly called back, for now appeared in sight the second column, which, shrinking from the fire of the batteries which had so crushed the first, diverged to the right, and by this mistaken move, presented its flank to General Adam’s brigade. The brigade of Guards was formed in its front, while the 52nd and 71st regiments were on its flank. The three regiments poured such a fire into the mass, that it melted like snow in the sunshine. Soon was repeated the order, “Charge!” and the two brigades assailing the devoted column at once in its front and on its flank, swept it from the field. In a few moments the hollow ground was crowded with fugitives; Napoleon’s last stake was lost; the battle of Waterloo was, practically, ended.

Of this terrible conflict, Lamartine rapidly sketches the progress, in a few glowing lines,--a summary of various French narratives:

“These 6000 grenadiers advanced with shouldered arms, amidst cries of ‘Vive l’Empereur!’ Wellington awaited them with forty pieces of cannon, with the matches lighted. As they ascended and approached, the battery fired a volley point-blank into the advancing mass, which, as the smoke arose, was seen to waver for a moment; then to close up and advance as compact as ever. On a second discharge the same oscillation took place, the same closing up. On the third discharge the English saw the column reduced to a block of men, decimated by grape-shot:--two of the battalions had been struck down, the other two hesitated, and recoiled to seek another means of access to these impregnable heights. Napoleon turned pale, and at length doubted of victory.”

This may be said to be the language of a florid writer, depicting the event long after its occurrence. But Count Drouet, who witnessed the whole scene, thus described it in the Chamber of Peers, just six days after the battle:--

“The (first) four battalions of the Guard, when they arrived on the plateau, were received by the most terrible fire of musquetry and grape. The _great number of wounded men_ who separate from the column, cause it to be believed that the Guard is routed. A panic terror communicates itself to the neighbouring (or second) column, which precipitately takes flight.”

Count Drouet, witnessing the repulse of both the columns, from the height behind, might suppose that the dispersal of the second arose from panic; but in so thinking, he did injustice to his countrymen. The second column came into action as gallantly us the first; but, although it was the stronger of the two, it had to contend with two English brigades instead of one; and its chance of success was therefore proportionally smaller. Clearly, it was bad generalship to send the two columns, one after the other, to be beaten separately. Had they reached the British position at the same moment, they would have brought against the two British brigades a force outnumbering them by two to one. Gourgaud thus describes the fate of this second column: “The eight battalions of the Guard which were in the centre, after having withstood for a long time all the attacks of the enemy, and contended for every foot of ground, were at last completely disorganized by the mass of the fugitives, and overwhelmed by the numbers of the enemy.”