Chapter II (1)

In one of the last and fiercest struggles at Ligny, Blücher had been unhorsed and severely hurt, and the command of the Prussian army devolved on Gneisenau, a capable and scientific officer. It was near nightfall when Ligny had been won--the delay occasioned by the affair of D’Erlon had been injurious in the extreme to the French--and, perceiving that no enemy pressed on his rear, Gneisenau halted, and made preparations to retreat. But whither was the defeated army to move? Was it to fall back on its communications with the Rhine, opening to Napoleon the path to Brussels, and separating itself completely from Wellington; or was it to endeavour to join its allies, abandoning its line of operations for the time, but appealing to Fortune in another battle? Gneisenau, urged, it is said, by his heroic chief, who gave the order at night from his litter, resolved to adopt the second course; and the Prussian army was directed on Wavre, a town about twenty miles from Sombreffe, and divided from it by the difficult country--a region of hills and lowlands watered by the Dyle--which lay behind the road from Nivelles to Namur. Wavre is about nine or ten miles from Waterloo, a village in front of the Forest of Soignies, and north of a position marked out by Wellington as an admirable field for a great defensive battle; and it was this circumstance, well known to Blücher, which doubtless led him to fall back on Wavre, in spite of the many impediments in the way, impediments which had caused Napoleon to expect that, if forced from the road from Nivelles to Namur, Blücher would most probably recoil on his base, and not attempt to join Wellington through a mass of obstacles. By daybreak on the 17th, the first corps of Ziethen, and the second of Pirch were on their way to Wavre, by Tilly and Gentinnes, villages some miles to the north-west of Sombreffe; and the third corps of Thielmann, charged to cover the movement, broke up some hours later, and made for Gembloux, one of the points, we have seen, which Napoleon hoped to have reached in the advance of the day before, and to the east of Tilly and Gentinnes. The Prussian army was still greatly shaken, and especially was short of food and munitions; but no enemy harassed or observed the retreat; and before long it was joined by Bülow, who had hastened to march by Hannut to Gembloux, and brought 30,000 fresh soldiers to Blücher.

Meanwhile, Wellington, who, as night closed on the 16th, had had at Quatre Bras a mass of about 37,000 men, was joined ere long by some 8,000 more, marched from Brussels and points on his right, and he was thus now equal in numbers with Ney, who had by this time his two corps in hand[41]; though he was dangerously exposed should Ney and Napoleon be able to reach him with their united forces. Owing to an accident which befell a Prussian officer, the Duke was not informed of the defeat of Blücher until the early morning of the 17th; he thereupon resolved at once to retreat, but having been apprised that the Prussian army was in full march from Sombreffe to Wavre, and would soon be ready to fight again, he decided on stopping the retreat at Waterloo, and on awaiting there the attack of the French, if he could rely on the support of his veteran colleague. The retrograde movement of the Duke from Quatre Bras, screened by a considerable body of horsemen, began at about 10 A.M., and continued for hours; and, in addition to his 45,000 men, he summoned about 21,000 at Nivelles, and perhaps 4,000 more from outlying points, to Waterloo, the scene of the intended conflict. Fearful and jealous for his right, however, all through, he left a large force near Braine le Comte and Hal; and his whole army, in fact, was never concentrated.

The Allies, falling back from their true line of junction, the main road from Nivelles to Namur, were thus trying to unite on a second line, by the bad roads from Wavre to Waterloo. This strategy has been praised by the worshippers of success, even by soldiers like Charras and Chesney, and, in the event, it was more than justified; it was, nevertheless, essentially faulty. It is impossible to refute Napoleon’s logic; either Blücher, after his defeat at Ligny, ought to have moved directly on Wellington’s army, joining it either at Genappe or at least at Waterloo, or both the Allied chiefs ought to have fallen farther back, to have placed the Forest of Soignies between themselves and their foe, and concentrating their forces around Brussels, to have opposed 200,000 men or more to the 100,000 of the French Emperor, who, in that case, would have been out-generalled and could scarcely have ventured to offer battle. The double retreat on Wavre and Waterloo was, in fact, an imperfect half measure, so often fatal in the operations of war; Wavre was more distant from Waterloo than Sombreffe was from Quatre Bras, by certainly two or three miles, and, what was infinitely more important, was divided from Waterloo by a most intricate country; and, in making this movement, Blücher and Wellington were exposing themselves to crushing defeat, and were rendering their junction extremely difficult. It was to be assumed that a man like Napoleon would be exactly informed of the line of their march, and would do what was the best for his interests; and had Napoleon, on the morning of the 17th, called on his victorious army to make a great effort, he would probably have reached either Blücher or Wellington, still widely apart, and beaten either in detail. Nay, had he, collecting his whole forces, and moving more slowly, either attacked Blücher at Wavre or the Duke at Waterloo, on the 18th, he would almost certainly have won a great battle before the Allies could succeed in uniting. Exactly the same result would have followed had he, acting on more correct principles--and supposing, of course, as was to be expected, that he was thoroughly apprised of the allied movements--detached a part of his army to hold Blücher in check, and assailed Wellington with the mass of his forces; in that case all the chances were that he would be able to overpower Wellington, and to prevent Blücher at Wavre from sending a man to Waterloo. Considering the situation, time, and distance, the boasted retreat of the Allies, therefore, cannot be vindicated, whatever may be said; it exposed them once more to be defeated in detail; and unquestionably their best strategic course was to have effected their junction in the rear, on Brussels, thus completely baffling their great antagonist and not exposing themselves to danger.

The state of affairs, however, in the camp of the French had singularly favoured the plan of the Allies, and had already saved them from impending peril. Over confident in success, his distinctive fault, Napoleon was convinced that the Prussian army had been[42] completely routed at Ligny, and could not reappear on the scene for some time; and he returned to Fleurus, utterly worn out by the anxieties and fatigues of the two preceding days. He appears to have given no explicit orders, but he left Soult and Grouchy in temporary command; and these lieutenants, experienced as they were, did nothing to repair the gross want of vigilance due, probably, to the state of Napoleon’s health. Soult seems not to have even sent a message to Ney, a few miles off, to the left; no attempt during the night was made to discover the line of the Prussian retreat, still less to molest the defeated foe; and Grouchy especially, a cavalry chief, instead of reconnoitering in every direction to ascertain where the enemy was, despatched only one body of horsemen along the road from Sombreffe to Namur, that is, far away from the Prussian line of march. In this negligence and slackness we see no sign of the marvellous activity of Jena and Ratisbon; and Charras, I believe, is perfectly right when he says that Napoleon’s “long sleep” at Fleurus made the success of Ligny of no use to him, though Charras, always unjust to the Emperor, makes no allowance for his physical weakness, and refuses to blame either Soult or Grouchy. It was about 9 A.M. on the morning of the 17th when Napoleon drove from Fleurus to Ligny--he had been extremely unwell for hours[43]--and everything tends to prove he had no doubt but that the strength of the Prussian army was broken, and his first idea was that his own army should take rest[44] on the spot for the day. He ordered a grand review of his troops, and spent two hours at least on the field of Ligny, distributing rewards and attending the wounded; and it was not until near noon--having learned from Ney that part of the British army was still at Quatre Bras--that he seems to have resolved on a forward movement. By this time Blücher had completely escaped, and, in fact, was not many miles from Wavre; the Duke was in full retreat on Waterloo; and the chance which Napoleon[45] certainly had, and which the youthful warrior of 1796 would most probably have turned to account, that of falling either on Blücher or Wellington in the early morning of the 17th, had been lost never again to return.

The delay, too, in the operations of the French, coupled with the neglect of Soult and Grouchy, had caused the Emperor to remain in ignorance of the true direction of Blücher’s march, and had confirmed him in a false impression, which, though not the main cause of his subsequent ruin, undoubtedly in part contributed to it. Clinging to the conception which he had formed from the first, he was now absolutely convinced that, after Ligny, Blücher was falling back on his base to the Rhine; and the unlucky reconnaissance made in the morning, which pointed to a Prussian retreat by Namur--some prisoners and guns had been taken by the French--only went to strengthen his erroneous judgment. He resolved, therefore, following the grand precedent of 1796, against Beaulieu and Colli--his cardinal idea in the campaign of 1815--to direct the mass of his army against Wellington, and to keep Blücher away with a force sufficient to hold the defeated Prussians in check while he should endeavour to overpower the Duke. This strategy was perfectly correct in principle, but the delay of the morning had been most unfortunate, and the project was founded on a false assumption of the direction taken by Blücher’s forces.

The whole French army--except one division left in reserve, it had suffered so much--was now divided into two groups; the first composed of the Guard, a part of the 6th Corps, and some 8,000 horsemen, marching on Quatre Bras, to unite with Ney, with the 2nd and 1st Corps, and about 7,000 cavalry; the second comprising the 3rd and 4th Corps, one division of the 6th, and about 5,000 horsemen. The first group, about 72,000 strong, with not less than 240 guns, was to be under the Emperor’s command, and was intended to reach and attack Wellington; the second, some 34,000 men, with from 96 to 100 guns, was the wing that was destined to restrain Blücher. Napoleon broke up from Ligny soon after noon, and gave the command of this wing to Grouchy, enjoining him to “pursue and attack the Prussians, and to keep Blücher continually in sight,” and indicating Namur as, most probably, the direction of the retreat of the enemy. The Emperor, too, I can have no doubt, informed his lieutenant that his mission was[46] to interpose between Blücher and Wellington; and, in fact, an experienced chief like Grouchy must have understood that this was the object of his being detached from the main French army. The direction, however, of the restraining wing was late; Blücher had gained fourteen hours on the foe sent against him; his retreat was on Wavre, not on Namur; and it had already become no easy task to come up with him, and to hold him in check. Grouchy, alarmed at what had been devolved on him, expostulated with his Imperial master; but Napoleon curtly told him “to find out the enemy,” and set off to join Ney at Quatre Bras. He met the Marshal at about 2 P.M.; their united forces were massed together, and they were directed against the army of Wellington, for some hours, we have seen, in retreat. Ney had continued stationary at Quatre Bras, until the Emperor came on to him, and for this inaction he has been severely blamed; but the reproach is[47] too exacting, and by no means just; the army of Wellington had been placed in safety; and even had Ney advanced from Quatre Bras as soon as he saw Napoleon moving from Ligny, and pressed on the rear of the British force, he could not have gained any marked success. Napoleon began the pursuit at about 3 P.M., following Wellington along the great road to Brussels, leading by Genappe to the Forest of Soignies; but great results were no longer possible; the French merely harassed the retiring cavalry; and, in fact, an extraordinary tempest of rain made military operations practically useless. At about 7 P.M. the advanced guard of the French reached the low hills above La Belle Alliance, in front of the position of Waterloo; and in reply to a challenge made by Napoleon, the fire of many batteries informed the Emperor that a large army was collected at a short distance from him.

We turn to the operations of Grouchy’s wing, detached, we have seen, late to follow up Blücher. Grouchy had not set his 34,000 men in motion from Ligny until about 3 P.M., and for this he has been harshly condemned; but, considering that his troops were widely scattered, and that Napoleon did not advance from Quatre Bras until the same hour, or nearly so, I am satisfied the censure is not deserved. The Marshal, a brave but irresolute man--he had shown what he was at Bantry in 1796--was hesitating what direction to take, when a positive order from Napoleon came to determine his still uncertain purpose. The Emperor, when on his way to Quatre Bras, had received the intelligence that a large Prussian force had been seen on the Orneau, not far from Gembloux; and he instantly sent off a messenger to Grouchy--through Bertrand, and not through the Chief of the Staff--every sentence of which should be carefully studied. In this important despatch Napoleon, we see,[48] believed that Blücher was still falling back, with at least the mass of his army, eastwards; but the proximity of the Prussians at Gembloux surprised him; and he distinctly pointed out that “Blücher and Wellington might endeavour to unite, and to offer battle, in order to cover Liège or Brussels.” Suspecting part of the truth, but still uninformed, he now ordered Grouchy to occupy Gembloux--he evidently thought that from this point the line of Blücher’s retreat would be ascertained, and that Grouchy would hold a position between the Prussians and the main French army--and he desired Grouchy “to communicate with head-quarters,” by “cavalry detachments,” along “the road from Namur,” showing thus he believed that the Prussian chief was probably retiring in force towards Liège, that is, towards his base on the Rhine.

This order was still founded on the false impression of the direction really taken by Blücher, for Gembloux is to the east of Wavre, and thirteen or fourteen miles from that place; but in spite of all that the Emperor’s censors have said, it was sufficiently correct to have enabled Grouchy, had he been a capable and active chief, to have, in the main, fulfilled his mission, and to have interposed between Blücher and Wellington. Grouchy set off without further delay--responsibility was a heavy load on him; the storm of rain which had kept back Napoleon retarded also the Marshal’s columns; the roads, too, to Gembloux were exceedingly bad; and it was not until 9 P.M. that the whole force of Grouchy was collected near and around Gembloux, part east of the town and part still in the rear. Grouchy had pushed on to Gembloux some hours before, with an advanced guard, to endeavour to find out the true direction of Blücher’s retreat; but though it is certainly strange that this was not discovered beyond the possibility of doubt by this time, and the march to Gembloux had been slow, I believe the Marshal cannot fairly be blamed. In this position of affairs Grouchy sent a despatch to the Emperor, now in front of Waterloo, at 10 P.M. on the night of the 17th, and another at 2 A.M. on the morning of the 18th; and these, too, require close attention. In the first of these letters Grouchy announced that the Prussian army was still falling back, almost certainly formed[49] “into two great columns,” the one moving on Wavre by Sart les Walhain, a place a few miles to the north-east of Gembloux, the other retiring on Perwez towards Liège; and the Marshal added that if “the mass of the enemy had made its way to Wavre” he would “follow it up in that direction,” “in order to separate Blücher from Wellington.” The second letter has been lost, but its contents are known; the Marshal wrote that he was about to march on Wavre by Sart les Walhain on the track of Blücher; and this is confirmed by a third message,[50] sent to Pajol, one of his light cavalry chiefs, which directed a speedy advance on Wavre.

The information thus conveyed by Grouchy was only a partial approach to the truth, and it was calculated to mislead Napoleon, and to inspire him with disastrous false confidence. Blücher was not retreating in two divergent columns; he had never thought of drawing towards Liège; and, at this moment, the night of the 17th, the four corps of his army, now well supplied and rested, and still numbering about 90,000 men, with from 270 to 280 guns, had been concentrated around Wavre, on either bank of the stream of the Dyle, and ready in the morning to march on Waterloo. The knowledge even now acquired by Grouchy was amply sufficient to urge that chief to advance on Wavre as quickly as possible, for it was by that line only that, from his point of view, even one hostile column could join Wellington; and his letters prove that he understood his mission. But his messages to Napoleon were of such a nature as to cause the Emperor to feel assured--especially as this was his own idea--that a large part at least of the Prussian army was leagues away in retreat eastward, and could not possibly assist the Duke; and, in any case, he had a right to infer that if part of Blücher’s forces was at Wavre, Grouchy would be fully able to hold it in check. Buoyed up by these hopes, the Emperor spent half the night of the 17th in watching the lines of fire which marked the British bivouacs, and he had but one fear, that the state of the weather--the rain had continued to descend in torrents--would prevent him from bringing Wellington to bay, and would enable the English chief to decamp ere the morrow. It is, however, a complete mistake to suppose, as Charras and other detractors have urged, that the Emperor at this critical moment altogether neglected to watch his right, or to keep in communication with Grouchy at Gembloux. I cannot, indeed, accept his statement,[51] for it can hardly be reconciled with the published documents, that he directed Grouchy, on the night of the 17th, to send a detachment to the main French army, in order to fall on the flank of Wellington--the counterpart of the march from Quatre Bras to Marbais--though this incident of the campaign has been ill explored; and there are reasons to think the order was made, apparently opposed to the known evidence. But he sent horsemen to scour the country towards Gembloux, and even within some miles of Wavre. He certainly ascertained, before daybreak on the 18th, that a Prussian column was near Wavre, and he communicated, we shall see, the news to Grouchy. Relying, however, on the Marshal’s account, he assumed that Grouchy would be in sufficient force to paralyze and perhaps destroy this foe, and he was justified, from what he had been told, in a supposition of the kind.

It was now the morning of the 18th of June, and Napoleon perceived, with exulting pride, that Wellington had not attempted to retreat, and that the Duke’s army retained its positions. The Emperor felt assured of a decisive victory; he was certain that Grouchy could easily master any forces that might threaten his right, if such forces were at hand at all; and he exclaimed to Ney, as they sate at breakfast, that the “chances were ten to one in their favour.” Napoleon had intended to have his army in line, and to begin the battle at 9 A.M.,[52] but the severity of the weather had made the ground very difficult for the manœuvring of guns. He believed that a grand demonstration would shake the nerves of the Belgian and Dutch troops, who had been lately in the Imperial service, but who now formed a large part of Wellington’s force; and, at the instance, it is said, of Drouot, one of his most skilful and trusted officers, he put off the attack for nearly three hours, the state of his frame, which needed repose, very probably, too, affecting his purpose. This delay was immensely in the Duke’s favour. Waterloo, but for it, could hardly have been won, and it may truly be said that, on this day, the sun in its courses fought against Napoleon. Meanwhile Wellington had drawn together his army, about 70,000 strong, comprising 13,000 cavalry, and 160 guns; and relying on the pledge of the word of Blücher, who, conquering pain and superior to defeat, had promised to come up in line at Waterloo, “with his whole army,” by the “forenoon at latest,” he calmly awaited the attack of his renowned antagonist. He might, even at this moment, have had a much larger force on the ground, for, apprehensive for his right to the last, he had left 17,000 men far away at Hal, a strategic mistake which cannot be justified, and which placed him in grave peril during the ensuing battle.

While Waterloo was being thus prepared, Blücher had broken up from his camps round Wavre, intent on carrying the support to his English colleague which he felt would secure the Allies a triumph. The veteran did not suspect that Grouchy was not far off with 34,000 men; the Duke and Blücher, in fact, believed that Napoleon had all his army in hand, with the exception of the one corps of Vandamme; and this single calculation condemns the generalship of the double movement on Wavre and Waterloo; for had Napoleon had 90,000 men to oppose to the 70,000 of Wellington, and been able to attack early on the 18th, Blücher never could have been up in time to avert a defeat that must have been certain. No hostile column, however, appeared from Gembloux, to threaten the Prussians on their flank march, and yet the difficulties and obstacles in the way--imperfectly understood by the Prussian staff--were so great that the advance from Wavre was exceedingly slow, and perilously delayed. Bülow, starting from beyond the Dyle at break of day, was not at Chapelle St. Lambert, with even a few men, until noon, still far from Napoleon’s right; Pirch and Ziethen were not in march for Waterloo until 11.30 A.M., and even then lingered; and Thielmann, with a considerable part of his corps, was left behind to defend Wavre. Nothing but the heroic ardour of Blücher and the energy of his fierce soldiery enabled the movement to be made at all, and but for accidents and bad generalship I think it could not have been accomplished with results leading to success at Waterloo.

While Blücher was thus toiling to attain Waterloo, Grouchy was on his way from Gembloux to Wavre. To appreciate thoroughly this passage of the campaign, I must ask the reader to retrace his steps, and to turn back to part of the preceding narrative. Grouchy, sent to Gembloux with 34,000 men, to pursue and to attack Blücher, and, doubtless, to keep him aloof from Wellington, had not ascertained, even at the close of the 17th, the exact positions of the whole Prussian army; but he had been informed that part of it was falling back on Liège, and that another part was retreating on Wavre; and he had, in the two letters cited, apprised Napoleon that “should the mass of the Prussians go that way,” he would take care to advance on Wavre, and thus “separate Blücher from Wellington.” This information was not wholly correct, but it was so to a certain extent; and it ought to have at once suggested to Grouchy--a general-in-chief in command of an army, and he perfectly understood his mission--the necessity of marching quickly on Wavre by the earliest dawn of the 18th; for any Prussian column retiring on Liège was abandoning altogether the theatre, and might, therefore, be left alone; whereas a Prussian column directed to Wavre would be approaching Wellington, and might molest Napoleon. This was the more essential, because the Emperor, upon leaving for Quatre Bras, had told Grouchy that his intention was to attack the Duke should he make a stand “in front of the Forest of Soignies,” the very spot where the Duke now was; and also, notably, because the Marshal’s despatches were such as would lead Napoleon to think that no Prussians could even approach Waterloo. The duty of Grouchy to keep Blücher and the Duke apart ought to have induced him likewise, in his march from Gembloux, to draw towards Wavre along roads tending towards the Emperor’s position and Blücher’s flank, should the Prussians attempt to make for Waterloo; for thus only could he accomplish his task, of which he was well aware, as his own messages show. These roads existed, and were even open; they led across the Dyle by two stone bridges at Mousty and Ottignies, left intact as those on the Sambre had been on the 15th; and they could have borne Grouchy’s army in seven hours at latest--the distance, we have said, is thirteen or fourteen miles--either to Wavre, or to intermediate points between Wavre and the Duke’s lines at Waterloo.

Common sense, therefore, should have inspired Grouchy to leave Gembloux as early as possible on the 18th, to divide his troops into two columns at least, in order to expedite the march, and to make for Wavre by Mousty and Ottignies; and had this been done, I agree with Jomini, Blücher would not have made his way to Waterloo. Unfortunately, Grouchy, we have seen, had resolved to advance from Gembloux on Wavre--and he was hesitating even in this purpose--not by the roads that would bring him on Blücher’s flank, but by Sart les Walhain, and a circuitous road that would place him only on Blücher’s rear, and therefore in a much worse position to intercept a Prussian flank march on Waterloo; but though this was a grave strategic error, it was perhaps not an irreparable mistake. Where Grouchy’s conduct cannot be excused, and what condemns him at the bar of history, is that, in opposition to his obvious duty and to the rules of mere common prudence, he left Gembloux at[53] so late an hour that it became difficult to attain Wavre in time to be of much use to Napoleon; and that he so disposed his army as to render its march unnecessarily and even extraordinarily slow. Instead of breaking up at 3 or 4 A.M., he did not break up until 8 or 9 A.M.; instead of forming his men into two columns at least, he allowed them to march in one huge column; and thus hours of inestimable worth were lost, and a movement which ought to have been as quick as possible was retarded in every conceivable way.

Napoleon, meantime, had been preparing a grand and decisive attack on Wellington. His army had been some time in motion to take the positions assigned to it, when he sent off by Soult a message to Grouchy, at this moment on his way from Gembloux. In this letter, written at 10 A.M., the Chief of the Staff informed Grouchy that, besides the two columns the Marshal had mentioned, intelligence had been received of a third Prussian column falling back on Wavre by Gentinnes; and he approved of Grouchy’s intended march on Wavre--inferred from the despatch of 2 A.M.--but he enjoined him to approach the Emperor, and to enter into communication with the main French army, which, he added, was about to engage in battle “near Waterloo,” before “the Forest of Soignies.” By 11 A.M., Napoleon’s legions had taken their ground on their last field, and the annals of war have seldom presented so magnificent and imposing a spectacle, described by the Emperor himself in most striking language. The French army, spread out like a gigantic fan, resplendent in all the pomp of battle, was formed into three great masses; the first, composed of the 2nd and 1st Corps, deployed in lines from Mon Plaisir on the left to near Frischermont on the extreme right; the second, a superb array of cavalry, in line, to the rear of Reille and D’Erlon; and the third, in close columns, made up of cavalry, of Lobau’s 6th corps, and of the Imperial Guard, intended to deal the decisive stroke. Napoleon’s position crossed two roads, one the great highway from Charleroi to Brussels, the other a good cross road from Nivelles running into the first at Mont St. Jean; and the three arms could concur in the attack, though his adversary’s front was protected by obstacles, and the rain of fifteen hours had made an attack difficult through dense fields of rye and miry enclosures. The Emperor rode in front of his line, accompanied by his gorgeous staff; exulting cheers burst from the martial host, proud of the renown of a hundred victories; and the sight, as Napoleon calculated, made a profound impression on the thousands of men in the hostile array who had but recently served under the Imperial eagles.

The Duke, however, had his arrangements made; they fully revealed his defensive skill; and if some of the auxiliaries had faint hearts, he knew that he could thoroughly rely on his British and most of his German soldiery. His lines, running from his right to his left, extended from beyond Hougoumont, in front of Mon Plaisir, to Papelotte and La Haye, in front of Frischermont; but he had some thousands of men on his extreme right, holding Merbe Braine and Braine L’Alleud, and communicating by vedettes with Hal, where, we have seen, he had left 17,000 men; and his extreme left had outposts reaching to Ohain, on the road to Wavre, whench he expected Blücher. Hill commanded the right wing, Picton held the left, the Prince of Orange was at the centre; and though the Duke’s army presented a less compact front than that of his Imperial foe, it was admirably arranged for a defensive battle. Before the position stood the château of Hougoumont, covering the right and the right centre of the Duke; beyond was the farm of La Haye Sainte and the hamlets of Papelotte and La Haye, advanced posts on his centre and left; and these points of vantage had been carefully fortified and held by considerable bodies of men, to break the first fury of the French attack. Behind these obstacles the main army held a formidable position, guarding the two roads from Charleroi to Brussels and that from Nivelles; and it had this special characteristic, that its possessors could sweep the assailant’s columns at all points with fire, and that it afforded cover in the rear to screen the reserves, exactly the opposite of the case of the Prussians at Ligny. The Duke, however, like all true generals, did not rely only on a passive defence; a cross-road just behind the main position enabled all arms to manœuvre freely, and the cavalry massed behind the British centre had facilities to advance from most points of the line.

I can only attempt a mere sketch of one of the most memorable battles of all time. The plan of Napoleon’s attack, in which we perceive the last exhibition of his genius in war, was to turn Wellington’s left--by many degrees the weakest point of the British position--and, simultaneously, to force his centre; success in this operation would not only separate the Duke’s army completely from Blücher, but would cut off its retreat upon Brussels, and would force it into an intricate country where escape from a victorious foe would be difficult. This great effort was to be made by the corps of D’Erlon, supported by the fire of an array of batteries accumulated in front of La Haye Sainte, and thence as far as Papelotte and La Haye; and it was to be sustained by the Imperial Guard, by Lobau, and by a large reserve of cavalry; but it was to be masked by a feint against Wellington’s right, in order to screen the decisive movement, and to draw the enemy’s attention away from it. Napoleon gave the signal at 11.30 A.M., and part of Reille’s corps on the Emperor’s left advanced boldly against Hougoumont, in front, we have seen, of the right of the British position. The château and the adjoining grounds, composed of a wood, an orchard and walled enclosures, afforded an excellent centre of defence; and though the French surrounded the place in thousands--nearly all Reille’s men became engaged--and captured most of the approaches to the house, and though some of the Duke’s auxiliaries fled, the British Guards stubbornly clung to the spot, and made their resistance good to the last. The effect of this attack, in which we see precipitate haste on the part of the French--a defect in their tactics throughout the day--was to weaken most seriously the second corps, and to turn a diversion into a principal effort; and this admirably answered the Duke’s purpose, for the force of his foe was broken on obstacles, and his own position was left intact.

PLAN OF
the Battlefield of
WATERLOO,
showing positions of
OPPOSING ARMIES.]

It was now 1 P.M., and Napoleon was about to send an order to Ney for the grand attack, when he descried a body of troops on his right, at a considerable distance, near Chapelle St. Lambert, and he was soon apprised that this was the advance guard of Bülow’s corps, 30,000 strong, already gathering menacingly on his flank. The Emperor detached Lobau, with 10,000 men, to the right, to hold this new foe in check, exclaiming that “Grouchy had lost him thirty chances”; and he instantly sent off a message to Grouchy, desiring the Marshal to approach Waterloo, and if possible, to fall on the rear of Bülow; some indication, perhaps, that Napoleon believed a part of Grouchy’s force would be at once available, and possibly showing that the disputed order of the previous night may have been given. Meanwhile the batteries bearing on Wellington’s line from La Haye Sainte to Papelotte and La Haye--a mass of from 70 to 80 guns, opposed by a much weaker artillery force--had been carrying destruction into the British ranks; and about 1.30 P.M. Ney was directed to carry the Duke’s left, and to storm his centre. The assailants advanced in four huge columns of extraordinary depth, and with their flanks uncovered--this vicious formation has been acknowledged, but the author of it is not known--they moved slowly through the difficult ground; they swept away a Belgian division, which did not attempt to abide their onset; but they failed before Picton and his tenacious infantry, though they attained the crest of the British position. The Duke seized the occasion with perfect skill; and seeing that the French were already shaken, he launched against them a mass of heavy cavalry, which, in a few moments, carried all before it, forced the enemy’s columns in rout backwards, and clinging to their unprotected sides, captured two eagles and 2,000 prisoners. The horsemen, pressing the pursuit too far, were nearly destroyed by a counter-attack of hostile cavalry from Napoleon’s lines; but this magnificent charge completely defeated the first great effort made by the Emperor, and had a marked effect on the fortunes of the day.

It was nearly 3 P.M., and Napoleon’s prospects, which had appeared so brilliant, had become clouded. Bülow had moved forward from Chapelle St. Lambert; Lobau, greatly outnumbered, was falling back; a messenger had arrived from Gembloux announcing that Grouchy was miles distant; and Wellington had completely maintained his position. It is difficult to determine what, in this state of affairs, was the exact purpose formed by Napoleon; but he probably resolved to watch the movement of Bülow; and renouncing his attack on the Duke’s left, which would seriously endanger his own right, he turned against the British centre, for the present suspending a decisive effort. Ney was ordered to seize the advanced post of La Haye Sainte, and the place was mastered at about 4 P.M.,[54] after a furious and well-contested struggle, in which the French cavalry made their power manifest. A gap was now opened in Wellington’s front; guns were brought up to bear on his line; a part of his troops fell back for shelter behind the crest of his main position. Napoleon seems to have believed in the beginning of a retreat, and he directed a large part of his cavalry reserve, with Ney at their head, to advance on the enemy, his purpose being, it seems probable, to sustain the movement by the Imperial Guard. The French horsemen advanced in superb confidence; carried the eminences held by the hostile infantry, and sent terror into the hearts of the inferior troops who crowded the ranks of the Duke’s army, though checked by the squares of the British and German footmen, who exhibited the most heroic constancy. It seems now certain that Napoleon meant to follow up this partial success, when a diversion caused him to forego his purpose. Bülow had hesitated to make a serious attack; but Blücher had joined his halting lieutenant, and the fiery veteran, seeing how critical[55] was the situation of Wellington’s army, ordered an immediate advance on Napoleon’s flank. The Emperor was now fighting two battles; his attention was for some time engrossed in repelling Bülow’s attack on his right; and this, indeed, became so formidable that a considerable part of the Imperial Guard was required to stem the enemy’s progress. Ney, meanwhile, had been making desperate efforts with his cavalry to break the British centre; he employed the last reserve of this splendid force, undoubtedly against his master’s wishes;[56] but though Wellington’s line had been severely shaken, and thousands of fugitives covered his rear, and enormous gaps had been made in his army, the enemy’s cavalry, unsupported by foot, were unable to force the British position, held by squares “rooted,” it has been said, “in the earth.”

The battle was undecided at 7 P.M.; but Bülow’s attack had been repelled; Ney maintained his hold on the British front; the cannon of Grouchy were heard from Wavre, a pledge that he was keeping back the Prussians; and Reille and D’Erlon had made some progress in their efforts against the British right and centre. Napoleon thought his opportunity had come; a final stroke, he believed, would secure him victory, and forming the Guard into two great columns, supported by guns and the wreck of his cavalry, he directed one against the Duke’s centre, holding the second in reserve to sustain the movement. Wellington’s army had suffered immense losses; death, desertion, flight, had carried off thousands; undoubtedly he was in serious peril; and he now probably felt how grave had been the error of leaving 17,000 men at Hal. But, though “night or Blücher,” significant words which fell from him, showed that he knew his danger, he had made everything ready to meet his foe; and drawing in his right wing behind his centre, he had even now a powerful reserve to oppose to Napoleon’s supreme effort. The onset of the first column of the Guard for a time overbore all resistance; but it was arrested by the British Guards, by the renowned 52nd, and by a division of Dutchmen led by Chassé, and the defeated column swayed slowly backward, expecting the support of the approaching reserve. The needful assistance was never to come. Just at this moment part of the two corps of Ziethen and Pirch came into line. The French right was suddenly rent asunder, and a mass of British cavalry flooding the plain spread confusion and panic through the beaten army. The Duke now ordered a general advance; a terrible scene of ruin and disaster followed. The Imperial Guard fought nobly to the last; but the rest of Napoleon’s routed troops became a mere chaos of dissolving fugitives, pursued with relentless hate by the Prussians, and scattered along the roads that lead across the Sambre. Not thirty thousand men of the perishing host were ever, probably, seen under arms again. The losses of the victors were not less than 22,000 or 23,000 men, and nearly 7,000 of these were Prussians.

Napoleon at Waterloo gave little proof of the energy and resource of Jena and Austerlitz. The plan of his attack was, indeed, perfect, and during the greater part of the day he was in a position of extreme difficulty, and he was badly seconded by his lieutenants, who displayed feverish impatience and great want of caution. But he did not prevent the waste of his troops round Hougoumont; he allowed Ney to engage a large part at least of his cavalry in a premature movement; he did not seize the occasion he perhaps had to attack in full force before Bülow’s diversion. He was remiss and inactive throughout the battle; and this was due, there is now no doubt, to physical exhaustion[57] and long impaired health. The Duke, on the other hand, was the soul of the defence; he conducted the battle with wonderful skill, directing every movement at the right moment, making counter attacks when these were opportune, keeping a sufficient reserve for the supreme trial, and breathing into his men his stern sense of duty, his tenacity, and inflexible constancy. His management of the contest was so admirable that he held his ground, though he had expected Blücher in force on the field before mid-day, and though, humanly speaking, he must have lost the battle but for the intervention of the Prussian army--his composite force of 70,000 men, much weaker in guns, was not to be compared to the 72,000 troops under the Emperor’s flag--still, I venture to think that even without this aid, he would not have suffered the crushing defeat on which Napoleon’s hopes for the campaign rested. His one mistake, in fact, on this memorable day was the isolating 17,000 men at Hal; this certainly exposed him to real danger; but then this was a strategic not a tactical error. Nevertheless, Waterloo was decided by combinations outside the field; and we turn to the operations of Grouchy, the main cause, I believe of Napoleon’s overthrow.

The Marshal breaking up, we have seen, from Gembloux at least five or six hours too late, and marching with extraordinary slewness, reached Sart les Walhain at about 11:30--he was still eight or ten miles from Wavre--and at that place the thunder of cannon, far to the left, gave token of a great distant battle. Gérard, with true insight, at once urged Grouchy to cross the Dyle by Mousty and Ottignies, and to draw near the Emperor, known to be at Waterloo; for by so doing, Gérard justly argued, Wavre would be turned should it be attacked, and the French would attain the flank of Blücher, who, Gérard felt certain, was trying to join Wellington. Grouchy refused to listen to sagacious counsels, which, had they inspired him twelve hours before, would have perhaps changed the course of events in Europe, and which even now might have borne fruit; and he set off with his whole force for Wavre, where he expected to find the Prussian army. By this time Bülow was at Chapelle St. Lambert, but with a weak advanced guard only. Pirch and Ziethen were just breaking up from Wavre, and Thielmann was about to join them; but a great change took place in the Prussian movements when, at about 1 P.M., intelligence came that the enemy was approaching Wavre. Part of the corps of Pirch was ordered to fall back; the march of Ziethen was greatly retarded; and Thielmann was directed to remain at Wavre, and to make head against the scarcely expected foe. By 4 P.M., Grouchy was close to Wavre, having marched on the place, not across the Dyle towards the flank of Blücher, but along the river, thus striking Blücher’s extreme rear, and pushing him, so to speak, on Wellington; the Marshal opened fire at once on the town, having just received Soult’s letter of 10 A.M., which, no doubt, sanctioned an advance on Wavre, but ordered Grouchy to approach the Emperor. It is useless to follow the events of a combat of no importance to the result of the campaign; Thielmann, with only 18,000 men, contrived to hold Grouchy some hours in check; and meanwhile Bülow, completely free to act, and Pirch and Ziethen, all danger removed, succeeded in reaching Waterloo and in crushing Napoleon. Yet, bad as it was, the position of Grouchy made the Prussians cautious and kept them back; Pirch and Ziethen were only just up in time; and of an army of 90,000 men, not 50,000 made their way to Waterloo. By 7 P.M. Grouchy received the letter of 1 P.M., sent off from Napoleon’s lines at the news of the apparition of Bülow; the Marshal crossed the Dyle, and tried to approach the Emperor; but the movement was now altogether too late; the French army and its chief had succumbed.

The junction of Blücher and Wellington, therefore, led to the overwhelming defeat of Waterloo; but for this, Napoleon would have won the battle--the chances, at least, were all in his favour--despite the tactical errors of the French, and the admirable defensive resource of Wellington. It follows that the great and capital question, as regards this part of the Campaign of 1815, is, Could Grouchy have prevented this junction, for if he could, he must be held responsible for the catastrophe which befell the Emperor? The answer must largely depend on conjecture; but an impartial student of war, I think, especially if he can weigh evidence, will give it distinctly in the affirmative. Considerations, obvious and yet decisive, should have urged Grouchy, we have seen, to leave Gembloux in the early dawn of the 18th, to cross the Dyle at Mousty and Ottignies, and to approach Wavre as quickly as possible; the idea, it will be observed, flashed on Gérard’s mind the moment he heard the cannon of Waterloo. If the Marshal had taken this rational course, he would have been over the river at about 11 A.M.,[58] and, in that event, as affairs stood, he would have seriously menaced the flank of Bülow, toiling painfully, in long straggling columns, on the way from Wavre to Chapelle St. Lambert, and he would have been nearer Napoleon’s lines than the corps of Ziethen, of Pirch, and of Thielmann, still near Wavre, and not on the march for Waterloo.

What, in these circumstances, would Blücher have done, giving him full credit for his daring and energy? He would have been surprised in a perilous flank march, through a difficult and almost impassable country, for he had no conception that Grouchy would be near; and his army would have been almost divided by an enemy threatening its separate parts. In this state of things I cannot doubt but that he would not have permitted Bülow to advance farther, or his three remaining corps to make a move towards Waterloo, until he had disposed of Grouchy; he would have drawn the mass of his forces together. All this would have been an affair of hours. Grouchy could have made a prolonged resistance, and, meanwhile, Napoleon, free to bring the whole strength of his more powerful army against the Duke, would have triumphed over his much weaker enemy. The same results would, have, perhaps, followed had Grouchy, without attempting to cross the Dyle, reached Wavre at 11 A.M., as he might have done; Pirch, Ziethen, and Thielmann would not have moved; Bülow, isolated, would not have dared to attack, and the French army would still have gained a victory. Even had Grouchy, at the eleventh hour, listened to the excellent advice of Gérard, and crossed the Dyle at Mousty and Ottignies, he might possibly have averted a complete catastrophe. The movement could not have interfered with the attack of Bülow, but it might have arrested Pirch and Ziethen, and it was these chiefs who, at the last moment, dealt the French army the final mortal stroke.

It is impossible, therefore, to acquit Grouchy; he is mainly to blame for the result of Waterloo. This conclusion, however, has been assailed, with confidence, on two lines of argument. Napoleon, it is said, was not aware, from first to last, whither Blücher had gone; he despatched Grouchy from Sombreffe too late; Gembloux was not the true point on which the force of the Marshal should have been directed. Napoleon gave Grouchy no precise orders; he misled his lieutenant, and kept him in the dark; he approved, late on the 18th, the march on Wavre, and he has, therefore, to thank himself for his own overthrow. We may grant the premises, yet they do not sustain the inference or exonerate Grouchy. Admitting that Napoleon believed that Blücher was falling back on his base after Ligny; that he should have sent Grouchy on his track much sooner; and that Gembloux was not the best place to be assigned for the restraining wing; still, it was the duty of Grouchy, knowing what he had learned on the 17th, to have left Gembloux at daybreak on the 18th, and marched rapidly on or towards Wavre; and had he done this, he would, I believe, have stopped the Prussians and averted Waterloo. As for Napoleon not having given directions to Grouchy of an exact kind, and having sanctioned the tardy advance on Wavre, the first statement assumes that Grouchy was not an independent general-in-chief, in command of a distinct army, and the second is opposed to the known evidence. Napoleon approved of the march to Wavre, but not at a late hour, or at a snail’s pace; he certainly thought, and had a right to think, if a Prussian force existed at Wavre--the reader will recollect the letter of the 18th, pointing to his growing suspicion of the fact--that his lieutenant would be able to hold it in check, and this required an early and speedy march from Gembloux. This reasoning, in fact, errs in two respects; it ascribes to the mistakes Napoleon made results with which they are not chargeable; it assumes that Napoleon, in front of Wellington, was to instruct Grouchy, in front of Blücher, in his conduct, in the minutest details; it takes for granted that Grouchy, the head of the army, was a mere puppet to be directed in every operation he was to undertake, and that by his chief at a wide distance from him. The argument, when examined, falls to the ground; it cannot stand the test of impartial criticism.

The second contention, urged by Charras, rests on the fact that the army of Grouchy was very much weaker than that of Blücher; but though made with a parade of science, it does not mislead a true student of war. Grouchy, the argument runs, had but 34,000 men to oppose to the 90,000 of Blücher; the Prussian was an able, nay, a great soldier; and had Grouchy done all that man could do, he could not, his force was so inferior, have prevented the junction of Blücher and Wellington, and conjured away the disaster of Waterloo. Assume that Grouchy manœuvred rightly, had left Gembloux at the first possible moment, had marched rapidly, had seized Mousty and Ottignies, and had mastered the Dyle before mid-day, his adversary would have at once recognized, that the Prussians were nearly three to one to the French, and this would have determined Blücher’s purpose. The Prussian marshal, aware of this fact, would have sent Pirch and Ziethen to hold Grouchy in check, and marched on Waterloo with Bülow and Thielmann; or he would have allowed Grouchy to draw near his flank, and, fending him off, would have moved on Wellington with three-fourths of his army at least; and in either case he would have joined the Duke, and both would have overwhelmed Napoleon.