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_.”