skirmishers of which had appeared on the heights of St. Lambert, was
exaggerated; and persuaded too, that Grouchy's army was following it,
and that it would soon find itself between two fires, it gave him but
little uneasiness. However, rather from precaution than from fear, he
gave orders to General Domont, to advance with his cavalry and that of
General Suberwick, to meet the Prussians and directed Count de Lobau,
to be ready to support General Domont in case of necessity. Orders
were despatched at the same time to Marshal Grouchy, to inform him of
what was passing, and enjoin him _anew_, to hasten his march, to
pursue, attack, and crush Bulow.
Thus by drawing off the divisions of Domont and Suberwick, and by the
paralyzation of the 6th corps, our army was reduced to less than
fifty-seven thousand men: but it displayed so much resolution, that
the Emperor did not doubt its being sufficient, to beat the English.
The second corps, as I have already said, had effected the dislodgment
of the English from the woods of Hougoumont; but the first corps,
notwithstanding the continual play of several batteries, and the
resolution of our infantry and of the light horse of General Lefevre
Desnouettes and Guyot, had been unable to force either La Haie
Sainte, or Mont St. Jean. The Emperor ordered Marshal Ney, to
undertake a fresh attack, and to support it by eighty pieces of
cannon. A tremendous fire of musketry and artillery then took place
throughout the whole line. The English, insensible to danger,
supported the charges of our foot and of our horse with great
firmness. The more resistance they displayed, the more furiously did
our soldiers engage. At length the English, driven from one position
to another, evacuated La Haie Sainte and Mont St. Jean, and our troops
seized on them with shouts of "Long live the Emperor!"
To sustain them there, Count d'Erlon immediately sent the second
brigade of General Alix. A body of English horse intercepted the
passage, threw the brigade into disorder, and then, falling on our
batteries, succeeded in dismounting several pieces of artillery. The
cuirassiers of General Milhaud set off at a gallop, to repulse the
English horse. A fresh division of these came and fell upon our
cuirassiers. Our lancers and chasseurs were sent to their assistance.
A general charge ensued, and the English, broken, overthrown, cut
down, were forced to retire in disorder.
Hitherto the French army, or, to speak more properly, the forty
thousand men of Generals Reille and d'Erlon, had obtained and
preserved a marked superiority. The enemy, driven back, appeared
hesitating on their movements. Dispositions had been observed, that
seemed to indicate an approaching retreat. The Emperor, satisfied,
joyfully exclaimed: "They are ours: I have them:" and Marshal Soult,
and all the generals, considered, as he did, the victory certain[50].
The guard had already received orders to put itself in motion, to
occupy the ground we had gained, and finish the enemy, when General
Domont sent to inform the Emperor, that Bulow's corps had just formed
in line, and was advancing rapidly on the rear of our right. This
information changed the design of Napoleon; and, instead of employing
his guard to support the first and second corps, he kept it in
reserve; ordering Marshal Ney to maintain his ground in the woods of
Hougoumont, at La Haie Sainte, and at Mont St. Jean, till the event of
the movement, which Count Lobau was about to make against the
Prussians, was known.
[Footnote 50: The enemy themselves confess, that at this
moment they thought the battle lost. "The ranks of the
English," says Blucher, "were thrown into disorder; the
loss had been considerable; the reserves had been
advanced into the line; the situation of the Duke was
extremely critical, the fire of musketry continued along
the front, the artillery had retired to the second
line."
I will add, that still greater disorder prevailed in the
rear of the English army: the roads of the forest of
Soignes were encumbered with waggons, artillery, and
baggage, deserted by the drivers; and numerous bands of
fugitives had spread confusion and affright through
Brussels and the neighbouring roads.
Had not our successes been interrupted by the march of
Bulow; or had Marshal Grouchy, as the Emperor had reason
to hope, followed at the heels of the Prussians; never
would a more glorious victory have been obtained by the
French. Not a single man of the Duke of Wellington's
army would have escaped.]
The English, informed of the arrival of Bulow, resumed the offensive;
and endeavoured to drive us from the positions, that we had taken from
them. Our troops repulsed them victoriously. Marshal Ney, carried away
by his boiling courage, forgot the orders of the Emperor. He charged
the enemy at the head of Milhaud's cuirassiers and the light cavalry
of the guard, and succeeded, amid the applauses of the army, in
establishing himself on the heights of Mont St. Jean, till then
inaccessible.
This ill-timed and hazardous movement did not escape the Duke of
Wellington. He caused his infantry to advance, and fell upon us with
all his cavalry.
The Emperor immediately ordered General Kellerman and his cuirassiers,
to hasten to extricate our first line. The horse grenadiers and
dragoons of the guard, either from a misconception of Marshal Ney, or
spontaneously, put themselves in motion, and followed the cuirassiers,
without its being possible to stop them. A second conflict, more
bloody than the first, took place at all points. Our troops, exposed
to the incessant fire of the enemy's batteries and infantry,
heroically sustained and executed numerous brilliant charges during
two hours, in which we had the glory of taking six flags, dismounting
several batteries, and cutting to pieces four regiments; but in which
we also lost the flower of our intrepid cuirassiers, and of the
cavalry of the guard.
The Emperor, whom this desperate engagement vexed to the heart, could
not remedy it. Grouchy did not arrive: and he had already been obliged
to weaken his reserves by four thousand of the young guard, in order
to master the Prussians, whose numbers and whose progress were still
increasing.
Mean time our cavalry, weakened by a considerable loss, and unequal
contests incessantly renewed, began to be disheartened, and to give
ground. The issue of the battle appeared to become doubtful. It was
necessary to strike a grand blow by a desperate attack.
The Emperor did not hesitate.
Orders were immediately given to Count Reille, to collect all his
forces, and to fall with impetuosity on the right of the enemy, while
Napoleon in person proceeded, to attack the front with his reserves.
The Emperor had already formed his guard into a column of attack, when
he heard, that our cavalry had just been forced, to evacuate in part
the heights of Mont St. Jean. Immediately he ordered Marshal Ney, to
take with him four battalions of the middle guard, and hasten with all
speed to the fatal height, to support the cuirassiers by whom it was
still occupied.
The firm countenance of the guard, and the harangues of Napoleon,
inflamed their minds: the cavalry, and a few battalions, who had
followed his movement to the rear, faced about towards the enemy,
shouting "The Emperor for ever!"
At this moment the firing of musketry was heard[51]. "There's
Grouchy!" exclaimed the Emperor: "the day is ours!" Labedoyère flew
to announce this happy news to the army: in spite of the enemy, he
penetrated to the head of our columns: "Marshal Grouchy is arriving,
the guard is going to charge: courage! courage! 'tis all over with the
English."
[Footnote 51: It was afterwards known, that it was
General Ziethen, who, on his arrival in line, had taken
the troops commanded by the Prince of Saxe Weimar for
Frenchmen, and compelled them, after a brisk fire, to
abandon a little village, which they were appointed to
defend.]
One last shout of hope burst from every rank: the wounded, who were
still capable of taking a few steps, returned to the combat; and
thousands of voices eagerly repeated, "Forward! forward!"
The column commanded by the bravest of the brave, on his arrival in
face of the enemy, was received by discharges of artillery, that
occasioned it a terrible loss. Marshal Ney, weary of bullets, ordered
the batteries to be carried by the bayonet. The grenadiers rushed on
them with such impetuosity, that they neglected the admirable order,
to which they had been so often indebted for victory. Their leader,
intoxicated with intrepidity, did not perceive this disorder. He and
his soldiers rushed on the enemy tumultuously. A shower of balls and
grape burst on their heads. Ney's horse was shot under him, Generals
Michel and Friant fell wounded or dead, and a number of brave fellows
were stretched on the ground. Wellington did not allow our grenadiers
time to recollect themselves. He caused them to be attacked in flank
by his cavalry, and compelled them to retire in the greatest disorder.
At the same instant the thirty thousand Prussians under Ziethen, who
had been taken for Grouchy's army, carried by assault the village of
La Haye, and drove our men before them. Our cavalry, our infantry,
already staggered by the defeat of the middle guard, were afraid of
being cut off, and precipitately retreated. The English horse,
skilfully availing themselves of the confusion, which this unexpected
retreat had occasioned, pierced through our ranks, and rendered them
completely disordered and disheartened. The other troops of the right,
who continued to resist with great difficulty the attacks of the
Prussians, and who had been in want of ammunition above an hour,
seeing some of our squadrons pell mell, and some of the guards running
away, thought all was lost, and quitted their position. This
contagious movement was communicated in an instant to the left; and
the whole army, after having so valiantly carried the enemy's
strongest posts, abandoned them with as much eagerness, as they had
displayed ardour in conquering them.
The English army, which had advanced in proportion as we retreated,
and the Prussians, who had not ceased to pursue us, fell at once on
our scattered battalions; night increased the tumult and alarm; and
soon the whole army was nothing but a confused crowd, which the
English and Prussians routed without effort, and massacred without
pity.
The Emperor, witnessing this frightful defection, could scarcely
believe his eyes. His aides-de-camp flew to rally the troops in all
directions. He also threw himself into the midst of the crowd. But his
words, his orders, his entreaties, were not heard. How was it possible
for the army to form anew under the guns, and amid the continual
charges of eighty thousand English, and sixty thousand Prussians, who
covered the field, of battle?
However, eight battalions, which the Emperor had previously collected,
formed in squares, and stopped the way against the Prussian and
English armies. These brave fellows, resolute and courageous as they
were, could not long resist the efforts of an enemy twenty times their
number. Surrounded, assaulted, cannonaded on all sides, most of them
at length fell. Some sold their lives dearly: others, exhausted with
fatigue, hunger, and thirst, had no longer strength to fight, and
suffered themselves to be killed, without being able to make any
defence. Two battalions[52] alone, whom the enemy were unable to
break, retreated disputing the ground, till, thrown into disorder and
hurried along by the general movement, they were obliged themselves to
follow the stream.
[Footnote 52: They had at their head Generals Petit and
Pelet de Morvan.]
One last battalion of reserve, the illustrious and unfortunate remains
of the granite column of the fields of Marengo, had remained unshaken
amid the tumultuous waves of the army. The Emperor retired into the
ranks of these brave fellows, still commanded by Cambronne! He formed
them into a square, and advanced at their head, to meet the enemy. All
his generals, Ney, Soult, Bertrand, Drouot, Corbineau, de Flahaut,
Labedoyère, Gourgaud, &c. drew their swords, and became soldiers. The
old grenadiers, incapable of fear for their own lives, were alarmed at
the danger that threatened the life of the Emperor. They conjured him
to withdraw. "Retire," said one of them: "you see, that Death shuns
you." The Emperor resisted, and ordered them to fire. The officers
around him seized his bridle, and dragged him away. Cambronne and his
brave fellows crowded round their expiring eagles, and bade Napoleon
an eternal adieu. The English, moved by their heroic resistance,
conjured them to surrender. "No," said Cambronne, "the guard can die,
but not yield!" At the same moment they all rushed on the enemy, with
shouts of "Long live the Emperor!" Their blows were worthy of the
conquerors of Austerlitz, Jena, Wagram, and Montmirail. The English
and Prussians, from whom they still detained the field of victory,
united against this handful of heroes, and cut them down. Some,
covered with wounds, fell to the ground weltering in their blood;
others, more fortunate, were killed outright: in fine, they whose
hopes were not answered by death, shot one another, that they might
not survive their companions in arms, or die by the hands of their
enemies.
Wellington and Blucher, thus become quiet possessors of the field of
battle, traversed it as masters. But at what expense of blood was this
unjust triumph purchased! Never, no never, were the blows of the
French more formidable or more deadly to their adversaries. Thirsting
after blood and glory, they rushed daringly on the blazing batteries
of their enemy; and seemed to multiply in number, to seek, attack, and
pursue them in their inaccessible intrenchments. Thirty thousand
English or Prussians[53] were sacrificed by their hands on that fatal
day; and when it is considered, that this horrible carnage was the
work of fifty thousand men[54], dying with fatigue and hunger, and
striving in miry ground against an impregnable position and a hundred
and thirty thousand fighting men, we cannot but be seized with
sorrowful admiration, and decree to the vanquished the palm of
victory.
[Footnote 53:
Men.
The general loss of the army of the Duke of
Wellington, in killed and wounded, was about 25,000
And that of Prince Blucher 35,000
------
60,000
------
That of the French may be estimated as follows:
The 15th and 16th, killed and wounded 11,000
The 18th, killed and wounded 18,000
Prisoners 8,000
------
37,000
The loss of the French would have been greater, had it
not been for the generous care taken of them by the
inhabitants of Belgium. After the victory of Fleurus and
of Ligny, they hastened to the field of battle, to
console the wounded, and give them every assistance.
Nothing could be more affecting, than the sight of a
number of women and girls endeavouring to revive, by
cordial liquors, the extinguished lives (_la vie
éteinte_) of our unfortunate soldiers, while their
husbands and brothers supported our wounded in their
arms, stanched their blood, and closed their wounds.
The precipitancy of our march had not allowed us, to
prepare conveyances and field hospitals, to receive our
wounded. The good and feeling inhabitants of Belgium
supplied the deficiency with eagerness. They carried our
poor Frenchmen from the field of battle, and offered
them an asylum, and all the attention necessary.
At the time of our retreat, they lavished on us proofs
of their regard not less affecting, and not less
valuable. Braving the rage of the ferocious Prussians,
they quitted their houses, to show us the paths, that
would favour our escape, and guide our course through
the enemy's columns. When they parted from us, they
still followed us with their eyes, and expressed from a
distance how happy they were at having been able to save
us.
When they knew, that a great number of Frenchmen
remained prisoners with the conqueror, they were eager
to offer, and to lavish on them, consolation and
assistance. The Prince of Orange himself, as formidable
in the heat of battle, as magnanimous after victory,
became the protector of a number of brave fellows, who,
having learned how to esteem him on the field of battle,
had nobly invoked his support.
In fine, completely to acquit the debt of gratitude, at
that period so painful to remember, when persecution,
exile, death, compelled so many Frenchmen to flee their
native land, the inhabitants of Belgium, always
tender-hearted, always benevolent, opened their
hospitable doors to our unfortunate proscribed
countrymen, and more than one brave man, already
preserved by them from the vengeance of foreigners, was
a second time saved by their generous hands from the
fury of enemies still more implacable.]
[Footnote 54: I say fifty thousand men, for more than
ten thousand of the guard took no share in the action.]
At the moment, when Bulow's corps penetrated our right, I was at
head-quarters at the farm of Caillou.
One of the grand marshal's aides-de-camp came from him, to inform the
Duke of Bassano, that the Prussians were proceeding in that direction.
The duke, having received orders from the Emperor to remain there,
would not quit the place, and we resigned ourselves to wait the event.
In fact, the enemy's dragoons soon made themselves masters of the
little wood, that covered the farm, and attacked our people sword in
hand. Our guard repulsed them with their muskets; but, returning in
greater number, they assailed us anew, and compelled us, in spite of
the stoicism of M. de Bassano, to yield up the place to them very
speedily. The imperial carriages, furnished with able horses, carried
us rapidly from the enemy's pursuit. The duke was not so fortunate:
his carriage, having poor horses, received several shots; and he was
at length forced to escape on foot, and take refuge in mine.
The cessation of the firing, and the precipitate retreat of the wreck
of the army, too powerfully confirmed to us the fatal issue of the
battle. We inquired on all sides after the Emperor, but no one could
satisfy our painful anxiety. Some assured us, that he had been taken
prisoner; others, that he was killed. To put an end to the anxiety
that overwhelmed us, I took the horse of the principal of our
attendants (_chef de nos équipages_), and, accompanied by one of our
principal _piqueurs_, named Chauvin, who had returned with Napoleon
from the island of Elba, I hastened back toward Mont St. Jean. After
having in vain wearied a multitude of officers with questions, I met a
page, young Gudin, who assured me, that the Emperor must have quitted
the field of battle. I still pushed on. Two cuirassiers, raising their
sabres, stopped me. "Where are you going?"--"I am going to meet the
Emperor."--"You lie; you are a royalist; you are going to rejoin the
English." I know not how the business would have ended, had not a
superior officer of the guard, sent by heaven, fortunately known me,
and extricated me from the difficulty. He assured me, that the
Emperor, whom he had escorted a long way, must be before. I returned
to the Duke of Bassano. The certainty, that the Emperor was safe and
sound, alleviated our sorrows for a few moments: but they soon resumed
all their strength. He must have been no Frenchman, who could behold
with dry eyes our dreadful catastrophe. The army itself, after
recovering from its first impressions, forgot the perils with which it
was still menaced, to meditate with sadness on the future. Its steps
were dejected, its looks dismayed; not a word, not a complaint, was
heard to interrupt its painful meditations. You would have said it was
accompanying a funeral procession, and attending the obsequies of its
glory and of its country.
The capture and plundering of the baggage of the army had suspended
for a moment the enemy's pursuit. They came up with us at Quatre Bras,
and fell upon our equipage. At the head of the convoy marched the
military chest, and after it our carriage. Five other carriages, that
immediately followed us, were attacked and sabred. Ours, by miracle,
effected its escape. Here were taken the Emperor's clothes: the superb
diamond necklace, that the princess Borghese had given him; and his
landau, that in 1813 had escaped the disasters of Moscow.
The Prussians, raging in pursuit of us, treated with unexampled
barbarity those unfortunate beings, whom they were able to overtake.
Except a few steady old soldiers, most of the rest had thrown away
their arms, and were without defence; but they were not the less
massacred without pity. Four Prussians killed General ...... in cold
blood, after having taken from him his arms. Another general, whose
name also I cannot call to mind, surrendered to an officer: and this
officer had the cowardice still more than the cruelty, to run him
through the body. A colonel, to avoid falling into their hands, blew
out his brains. Twenty other officers, of various ranks, imitated the
example. An officer of cuirassiers, seeing them approach, said: "They
shall have neither me, nor my horse." With one of his pistols he shot
his horse dead; with the other, himself[55]. A thousand acts of
despair, not less heroic, illustrate this fatal day.
[Footnote 55: This circumstance was told to me, but the
following I witnessed myself. A cuirassier, in the heat
of the battle, had both his arms disabled with sabre
wounds: "I will go and get myself dressed," said he,
foaming with rage: "if I cannot use my arms, I'll use my
teeth--I'll eat them."]
We continued our retreat to Charleroi. The further we advanced, the
more difficult it became. They who preceded us, whether to impede the
enemy, or through treachery, obstructed the way, and at every step we
had to break through barricades. When halting for a moment, I heard
cries and moanings at our side. I went to the place, and found they
came from a ditch on the road-side, into which two large waggon-loads
of wounded men had been overturned. These unfortunate people, tumbled
in a heap under the waggons, that were upset upon them, implored the
compassion of those who passed by; but their feeble voices, drowned by
the noise of the carriages, had not been heard. We all set to work,
and succeeded in extricating them from their tombs. Some were still
breathing; but the greater number were stifled. The joy of these poor
wretches affected us to tears; but it was of short duration--we were
forced to leave them.
Still pursued and harassed by the enemy, we arrived at Charleroi,
which place was so encumbered, and in such confusion, that we were
obliged to leave behind us our carriage and our baggage. The secret
portfolio of the cabinet was carried off by the keeper of the
portfolio; the other important papers were destroyed; and we left
only some letters and reports of no moment, which were afterwards
printed at Brussels[56]. The Duke of Bassano and I were continuing our
journey on foot, when I saw some _piqueurs_ with led horses of the
Emperor's, and I ordered them, to bring them to us. Such was the
respect of the duke for every thing belonging to Napoleon, that he
hesitated to avail himself of this good fortune. Happily for him, I
succeeded in overcoming his scruples; for the Prussians had come up
with us, and the firing of musketry informed us, that they were
engaging only a few paces behind us. We were equally obliged to
abandon the military chest. The gold in it was distributed among the
Emperor's domestics; all of whom faithfully delivered it to him.
[Footnote 56: Among these letters printed was one of
mine, written from Bâle to the Emperor on the subject of
M. Werner.]
The Emperor, accompanied by his aides-decamp and a few orderly
officers, on quitting the field of battle, had taken the road to
Charleroi. On his arrival at this place, he attempted to rally a few
troops; but his efforts were vain, and, after having given orders to
several generals, he continued his course.