Facing that ridge of the Mont St Jean, where, at the end of the afternoon

and through the evening, Wellington's troops were already taking up their

positions, was another ridge, best remembered by the name of a farm upon

its crest, the "Belle Alliance." This ridge formed the natural

halting-place of the pursuers. From the height above Genappe to the ridge

of the Belle Alliance was but 5000 yards; and if a further reason be

quoted for the cessation of the pursuit and the ranging into battle array

of either force, the weather will provide that reason.

The soil of all these fields is of a peculiar black and consistent sort,

almost impassable after a drenching rain. The great paved high road which

traverses it was occupied and encumbered by the wheeled vehicles and by

the artillery. A rapid advance of infantry bodies thrown out to the right

and left of the road, and so securing speed by parallel advance, was made

impossible by mud, and the line grew longer and longer down the main road,

forbidding rapid movement. From mud, that "fifth element in war" (as

Napoleon himself called it), Wellington's troops--the mass of them at

least--had been fairly free. They had reached their positions before the

downpour. Only the cavalry of the rearguard and its batteries had felt the

full force of the storm. Dry straw of the tall standing crops had been cut

on the ridge of the Mont St Jean, and the men of Wellington's command

bivouacked as well as might be under such weather.

With the French it was otherwise. Their belated units kept straggling in

until long after nightfall. The army was drawn up only at great expense of

time and floundering effort, mainly in the dark, drenched, sodden with

mud, along the ridge of the Belle Alliance. It was with difficulty that

the wood of the bivouac fires could be got to burn at all. They were

perpetually going out; and all that darkness was passed in a misery which

the private soldier must silently expect as part of his trade, and which

is relieved only by those vague corporate intuitions of a common peril,

and perhaps a common glory, which, down below all the physical business,

form the soul of an army.

Napoleon, when he had inspected all this and assured himself that

Wellington was standing ranged upon the opposite ridge, returned to sleep

an hour or two at the farm called Le Caillou, a mile behind the line of

bivouacs. Wellington took up his quarters in the village of Waterloo,

about a mile and a half behind the bivouacs of his troops upon the Mont St

Jean.

In such a disposition the two commanders and their forces waited for the

day.

* * * * *

There must, lastly, be considered, before the description of action is

entered on, the nature of the field upon which it was about to be

contested. That field had been studied by Wellington the year before. He,

incomparably the greatest tactical defensive commander of his time, and

one of the greatest of all time, had chosen it for its capacities of

defence. They were formidable. Relying upon them, and confident of the

Prussians coming to his aid when the battle was joined, he rightly counted

upon success.

* * * * *

Let us begin by noting that of no battle is it more important to seize the

exact nature of the terrain, that is, of the ground over which it was

fought, than of Waterloo.

To the eye the structure of the battlefield is simple, consisting

essentially of two slight and rounded ridges, separated by a very shallow

undulation of land.

But this general formation is complicated by certain features which can

only be grasped with the aid of contours, and these contours, again, are

not very easy to follow at first sight for those who have not seen the

battlefield.

In the map which forms the frontispiece of this volume, and to which I

will beg the reader to turn, I have indicated the undulations of land in

pale green lines underlying the other features of the battle, which are in

black, red, and blue. The contours are drawn at five metres (that is 16

feet 4 inches) distance; no contours are given below that of 100 metres

above the sea. The valley floors below that level are shaded. Up to the

120-metre line the contours are indicated by continuous lines of

increasing thickness. Above the 120-metre line they are indicated by faint

dotted or dashed lines. I hope in this manner, though the task is a

difficult one, to give a general impression of the field.

The whole field, both slight ridges and the intervening depression, lies

upon a large swell of land many square miles in extent, while it slopes

away gradually to the east on one side and the west on the other. The

highest and hardly distinguishable knolls of it stand about 450 feet above

the sea. The site of the battle lies actually on the highest part, the

water-parting; and the floors of the valleys, down which the streams run

to the east and to the west, are from 150 to 200 feet lower than this

confused lift of land between. To one, however, standing upon any part of

the battlefield, this feature of height is not very apparent. True, one

sees lower levels falling away left and right, and the view seems oddly

wide, but the eye gathers the impression of little more than a rolling

plain. This is because, in comparison with the scale of the landscape as a

whole, the elevations and depressions are slight.

Upon this rolling mass of high land there stand out, as I have said, those

two slight ridges, and these ridges lie, roughly speaking, east and

west--perpendicular to the great Brussels road, which cuts them from south

to north. It was upon this great Brussels road that both Wellington and

Napoleon took up, at distances less than a mile apart, their respective

centres of position for the struggle. Though this line of the road did not

precisely bisect the two lines of the opposing armies, the point where it

crossed each line marked the tactical centre of that line: both Wellington

and Napoleon remained in person upon that road.

Now it must not be imagined that the shallow depression between the ridges

stretches of even depth between the two positions taken up by Wellington

and Napoleon, with the road cutting its middle; on the contrary, it is

bridged, a little to the west of the road, by a "saddle," a belt of fields

very nearly flat, and very nearly as high as each ridge. The eastern half

of the depression therefore rises continually, and gets shallower and

shallower as it approaches the road from east westward, and the road only

cuts off the last dip of it. Then, just west of the road there is the

saddle; and as you proceed still further westward along the line midway

between the French and English positions you find a second shallow valley

falling away. This second valley does not precisely continue the direction

of the first, but turns rather more to the north. In the first slight

decline of this second valley, and a few hundred yards west of the road,

lies the country-house called Hougomont, and just behind it lay the

western end of Wellington's line. The whole position, therefore, if it

were cut out as a model in section from a block of wood, might appear as

does the accompanying plan.

[Illustration]

In such a model the northern ridge P--Q some two miles in length is that

held by Wellington. The southern one M--N is that held by Napoleon.

Napoleon commanded from the point A, Wellington from the point B, and the

dark band running from one to the other represents the great Brussels High

Road. The subsidiary ridge O--O is that on which Napoleon, as we shall

see, planted his great battery preparatory to the assault. The enclosure H

is Hougomont, the enclosure S is La Haye Sainte.

Of the two ridges, that held by Napoleon needs less careful study for the

comprehension of the battle than that held by Wellington.

The latter is known as the Ridge of the Mont St Jean, from a farm lying a

little below its highest point and a little behind its central axis. This

ridge Wellington had carefully studied the year before, and that great

master of defence had noted and admired the excellence of its defensive

character. Not only does the land rise towards the ridge through the whole

length of the couple of miles his troops occupied, not only is it almost

free of "dead"[16] ground, but there lie before it two walled enclosures,

the small one of La Haye Sainte, the large one of Hougomont, which,

properly prepared and loopholed as they were, were equivalent to a couple

of forts standing out to break the attack. There is, again, behind the

whole line of the ridge, lower ground upon which the Duke could and did

conceal troops, and along which he could and did move them safely during

the course of the action.

Anyone acquainted with Wellington's various actions and their terrains

will recognise a common quality in them: they were all chosen by an eye

unequalled for seizing, even in where an immediate decision was necessary,

all the capabilities of a defensive position. That taken up on the 18th of

June 1815, in the Duke's last battle, had been chosen, not under the

exigencies of immediate combat, but with full leisure and after a complete

study. It is little wonder, then, that it is the best example of all. Of

all the defensive positions which the genius of Wellington has made famous

in Europe, none excels that of Waterloo.

V

THE ACTION

In approaching this famous action, it is essential to recapitulate the

strategical conditions which determined its result.

I have mentioned them at the outset and again in the middle of this study;

I must repeat them here.

The only chance Napoleon had when he set forward in early June to attack

the allies in Belgium, the vanguard of his enemies (who were all Europe),

was a chance of surprising that vanguard, of striking in suddenly between

its two halves, of thoroughly defeating one or the other, and then turning

to defeat as thoroughly its colleague.

Other chances than this desperate chance he had none; for he was fighting

against odds of very nearly two to one even in his attack upon this mere

vanguard of the armed kings; their total forces were, of course,

overwhelmingly superior.

He did succeed, as we have seen, in striking suddenly in between the two

halves of the allied army in Belgium. He was not as quick as he had

intended to be. There were faults and delays, but he managed, mainly

through the malinformation and misjudgment of Wellington, to deal with the

Prussians unsupported by Wellington's western wing.

He attacked those Prussians with the bulk of his forces; and although he

was outnumbered even upon that field, he defeated the Prussians at Ligny.

But the defeat was not complete. The Prussians were free to retire

northward, and so ultimately to rejoin Wellington. They took that

opportunity, and from the moment they had taken it Napoleon was doomed.

We have further seen that Grouchy, who had been sent after the Prussian

retreat, might, if he had seen all the possibilities of that retreat, and

had seen them in time, have stepped in between the Prussians and

Wellington, and have prevented the appearance of the former upon the field

of Waterloo.

Had Grouchy done so, Waterloo would not have been the crushing defeat it

was for Napoleon. It would very probably have been a tactical success for

Napoleon.

But, on the other hand, we have no ground for thinking that it would have

been a final and determining success for the Emperor. For if Wellington

had not known quite early in the action that he could count upon the

arrival of the Prussians, he would not have accepted battle. If, as a

fact, he had found the Prussians intercepted, he could have broken contact

and retreated before it was too late.

Had he done so, it would simply have meant that he would later have

effected a junction with his allies, and that in the long-run Napoleon

would still have had to fight an allied army immensely superior to his

own.

All this is as much as to say once more what has been insisted upon

throughout these pages; Waterloo was lost, not upon Sunday, June 18th, but

two days before, when the 63,000 of Napoleon broke and drove back the

80,000 of Blucher but failed to contain them, failed to drive them

eastward, away from Wellington, or to cause a general surrender, and

failed because the First French Army Corps, under Erlon, a matter of

20,000 men, failed to come up in flank at the critical moment.

We have seen what the effect of that failure was; we have discussed its

causes, and we must repeat the main fact for military history of all

those four days: the breakdown of Napoleon's last desperate venture turned

upon Erlon's useless marching and countermarching between Quatre Bras and

Ligny, two days before the final action of Waterloo was fought.

This being so, the battle of Waterloo must resolve itself into two main

phases: the first, the beginning of the struggle with Wellington before

the Prussians come up; the second, the main and decisive part of the

action, in which both Prussians and English are combined against the

French army.

This second phase develops continually as the numbers of the arriving

Prussians increase, until it is clinched by the appearance of Ziethen's

corps at the very end of the day, and the break-up of the French army;

this second part is therefore itself capable of considerable subdivision.

But in any large and general view of the whole action, we must regard it

as divided into these two great chapters, during the first of which is

engaged the doubtful struggle between Napoleon and Wellington; during the

second of which the struggle, no longer doubtful, is determined by the

arrival of the Prussians in flank upon the field.

[Illustration: ELEMENTS OF WATERLOO.]

THE FIRST PART OF THE ACTION

_Before the Arrival of the Prussians_

The action was to take the form of an assault by Napoleon's forces against

this defensive position held by Wellington. It was the business of

Wellington, although his total force was slightly inferior to the enemy in

numbers,[17] and considerably inferior in guns, to hold that defensive

position until the Prussians should come up in flank. This he had had word

would take place at latest by one or two o'clock. It was the business of

Napoleon to capture the strong outworks, Hougomont and La Haye Sainte;

and, that done, to hammer the enemy's line until he broke it. That delay

in beginning this hammering would be fatal; that the Prussians were

present upon his flank, could arrive in the midst of the battle, and were

both confidently and necessarily expected by his enemy; that his simple

single battle would turn into two increasingly complex ones, Napoleon

could have no idea. Napoleon could see no need for haste. A long daylight

was before him. It was necessary to let the ground dry somewhat after the

terrible rain of the day before if artillery was to be used effectively;

nor did he press his columns, which were moving into position all through

the morning, and which had not completely deployed even by eleven o'clock.

It was a little after that hour that he dictated to Soult the order of

battle. Its first and effective phrases run as follows:--

"Once the whole army is deployed, that is, at about half-past one, at the

moment when the Emperor shall send the order to Marshal Ney, the attack is

to be delivered. It will have for its object the capture of the village of

Mont St Jean and the cross-roads...."

The remainder of the order sets out forces to be engaged in this first

attack.

The French forces consisted in the IInd Army Corps deployed to the left or

west of the road, the Ist to the right or east of it, and behind Napoleon,

in the centre and in reserve, the VIth Corps and the Guard.

The plan in the Emperor's mind was perfectly simple. There was to be no

turning of the right nor of the left flank of the enemy, which would only

have the effect of throwing back that enemy east or west. His line was to

be pierced, the village of Mont St Jean which lay on the ridge of

Wellington's position and which overlooks the plateau on every side was

to be carried, and this done Napoleon would be free to decide upon his

next action, according to the nature and extent of the disorder into which

he had thrown the enemy's broken line.

As a fact, Napoleon made a movement before that hour of half-past one

which he had set down in his order for the beginning of the assault. That

movement was a movement against the advanced and fortified position of

Hougomont.

He sent orders to his left, to the body on the east of the high road, the

Second Army Corps, under Reille, to send troops to occupy the outer

gardens, wood, and orchards of the country-house, and at twenty-five

minutes to twelve the first gun fired in support of that movement was also

the first cannonshot of Waterloo.

After a brief artillery duel and exchange of cannonshots between the

height on the French left, which overlooks Hougomont, and the

corresponding height upon the English right, the French infantry began to

march down the slope to occupy the little wood which stands to the south

of the chateau. These four regiments were commanded by the Emperor's

brother Jerome, who was--as we have seen at Quatre Bras--under the orders

of Reille. The clearing of the wood was no very desperate affair, but it

was a difficult one, and it took an hour. The Germans of Nassau and

Hanover, who were charged with the defence of Hougomont and its

approaches, stubbornly contested the standing trees and the cut-clearing

which lay between them and the garden wall of the chateau.

It must be clearly seized, at this early and even premature point in the

action, that Napoleon's object in making this attack upon Hougomont was

only to weaken Wellington's centre.

Hougomont lay upon Wellington's right. Wellington had always been nervous

of his right, and feared the turning of his line there, because, should he

have to retreat, his communications would ultimately lie in that

direction. It was for this reason that he had set right off at Braine

l'Alleud, nearly a mile to the west of his line, the Dutch-Belgian

Division of Chasse and sixteen guns, which force he connected with a

reserve body at Hal, much further to the west.

Napoleon judged that an attack on Hougomont before the action proper was

begun, coming thus upon Wellington's right, would make him attempt to

reinforce the place and degarnish his centre, where the Emperor intended

the brunt of the attack to fall.

Napoleon had no other intention that history can discover in pressing the

attack against Hougomont so early. It was almost in the nature of a

"feint." But when, towards half-past twelve, his brother's division had

cleared the wood and come up against the high garden wall of the farm, for

some reason which cannot be determined, whether the eagerness of the

troops, the impulsiveness of Jerome himself, or whatever cause, instead of

being contented with holding the wood according to orders, the French

furiously attacked the loopholed and defended wall. They attempted to

break in the great door, which was recessed, and therefore protected by a

murderous cross-fire. They were beaten back into the wood, leaving a heap

of dead. At this point Reille, according to his own account (which may

well enough be accurate), sent orders for the division to remain in the

wood, and not to waste itself against so strong an outpost. But Jerome and

his men were not to be denied. They marched round the chateau, under a

heavy artillery fire from the English batteries above, and attempted to

carry the north wall. As they were so doing, four companies of the

Coldstreams, the sole reinforcement which Wellington could be tempted to

part with from his main line, came in reinforcement to the defence, and,

after a sharp struggle, the French were thrust back once more.

It was by that time past one o'clock, and this first furious attempt upon

Hougomont, unintended by the Emperor, and a sheer waste, had doubly

failed. It had failed in itself--the house and garden still remained

untaken, the post was still held. It had failed in its object, which had

been to draw Wellington, and to get him to send numerous troops from his

centre to his right in defence of the threatened place.

Meanwhile the Emperor, for whom this diversion of a few regiments against

Hougomont was but a small matter, had prepared and was about to deliver

his main attack.

The reader will see upon the contours of the coloured map a definite spur

of land marked with a broad green band in front of the French order of

battle, and further marked by the green letter "B" in the very centre of

the map. It was along this spur and at about one o'clock that the Emperor

drew up a great battery of eighty pieces in order to prepare the assault

upon the opposing ridge, which was to be delivered the moment their fire

had ceased. Napoleon at that moment was watching his army and its

approaching engagement from that summit upon the great road marked "A" in

green upon my coloured map, whence the whole landscape to the north and

west lies open.[18]

There he received the report of Ney that the guns were ready, and only

waiting for the order.

A little while before the guns were ready and Ney had reported to that

effect, Napoleon had received Grouchy's letter, in which it was announced

that the mass of the Prussian army had retreated on Wavre. He had replied

to it with instructions to Grouchy so to act that no Prussian corps at

Wavre could come and join Wellington. Hardly had the Emperor dictated this

reply when, looking northward and then eastward over the great view, he

saw, somewhat over four miles away, a shadow, or a movement, or a stain

upon the bare uplands towards Wavre; he thought that appearance to be

companies of men. A few moments later a sergeant of Silesian Hussars,

taken prisoner by certain cavalry detachments far out to the east, was

brought in. He had upon him a letter sent from Bulow to Wellington

announcing that the Prussians were at hand, and the prisoner further told

the Emperor that the troops just perceived were the vanguard of the

Prussian reinforcement. Thus informed, the Emperor caused a postscript to

be added to his dictated letter, and bade Grouchy march at once towards

this Prussian column, fall upon it while it was still upon the march and

defenceless and destroy it.

Such an order presupposed Grouchy's ability to act upon it; Napoleon took

that ability for granted. But Grouchy, as a fact, could not act upon it in

time. Hard riding could not get Napoleon's note to Grouchy's quarters

within much less than an hour and a half. When it got there Grouchy

himself must be found, and that done his 33,000 must be got together in

order to take the new direction. Further, the Emperor could not know in

what state Grouchy's forces might be, nor what direction they might

already have taken. It should be mentioned, however, to explain Napoleon's

evident hope at the moment of things going well, that _the prisoner had

told the Emperor it was commonly believed in the Prussian lines that

Grouchy was actually marching to join him, Napoleon, at that moment_.

Napoleon sent some cavalry off eastward to watch the advent of the

Prussians; he ordered his remnant of one army corps, the Sixth, which he

had kept in reserve behind his line,[19] to march down the hill to the

village of Plancenoit and stand ready to meet the Prussian attack; and

having done all this, he made ready for the assault upon the ridge which

Wellington's troops held.

That assault was to be preceded, as I have said, by artillery preparation

from the great battery of eighty guns which lay along the spur to the

north and in front of the French line. For half an hour those guns filled

the shallow valley with their smoke; at half-past one they ceased, and

Erlon's First Corps d'Armee, fresh to the combat, because it had so

unfortunately missed both Ligny and Quatre Bras, began to descend from its

position, to cross the bottom, and to climb the opposite slope, while over

the heads of the assaulting columns the French and English cannon answered

each other from height to height.

The advance across the valley, as will be apparent from the map, had upon

its right the village of Papelotte, upon its left the farm of La Haye

Sainte, and for its objective that highway which runs along the top of

the ridge, and of which the most part was in those days a sunken road, as

effective for defence as a regular trench.

Waterloo(#32332) · 第 6 / 9 段