THE DYNASTIES IMPLACABLE[18]
[Footnote 18: References: for this and the following chapters
see d'Angeberg: Le congres de Vienne et les traites de 1815,
precede et suivi des actes diplomatiques qui s'y rattachent,
avec introduction historique par Capefigue; Castlereagh's
Correspondence; Capefigue: Le congres de Vienne dans ses
rapports avec la circonstance actuelle de l'Europe; Davout:
Correspondance, Vol. IV.; de Pradt: Du congres de Vienne;
Flassan: Histoire du congres de Vienne; Hardenberg's Memoirs;
Humboldt's Memoirs; Villemain: Souvenirs contemporains
d'histoire et de litterature; Gerard: Quelques documents sur
la bataille de Waterloo; Gourgaud: La campagne de 1815;
Grouchy: Observations sur la relation de la campagne de 1815,
publ. par le G{en.} Gourgaud, et refutation de quelques-unes
des assertions et ecrits relatifs a la bataille de Waterloo.]
The Vienna Coalition -- Its Purpose -- Napoleon as a Liberal --
The Fiasco -- France on the Defensive -- Napoleon's Health -- War
Preparations of the Combatants -- Their Respective Forces --
Qualities and Achievements of the French -- The Armies of Bluecher
and Wellington -- The French Strategy -- Napoleon's First
Misfortune.
[Sidenote: 1815]
The supreme effort of the dynasties to outlaw Napoleon, and restore
France to the Bourbons, was made by what was nominally an alliance of
eight members--Austria, Great Britain, Prussia, Russia, France, Spain,
Portugal, and Sweden. The last was, however, absorbed in her struggle
with Norway, and, though Spain and Portugal were signatories, the real
strength of the coalition arranged at Vienna lay in a virtual renewal
of the treaty of Chaumont: Austria, Prussia, and Russia were each to
put a hundred and eighty thousand men in the field, and Great Britain
was to continue her subsidies.
On April fourth, the sovereigns of Europe were notified that the
Empire meant peace; they retorted by the mobilization of their forces,
and by denouncing in a joint protocol the treaty of Paris. In his
extremity Napoleon appealed to Talleyrand, but that minister knew too
well the temper of the Congress at Vienna, and refused to cooeperate.
The versatile Fouche thereupon initiated a new plot, this time against
Napoleon, and sounded Metternich; but Metternich was dumb. The other
diplomats asseverated that they did not wish to interfere with the
domestic affairs of France; but they prevaricated, intending nothing
less than the complete restoration of the Bourbons.
Under the shadow of this storm-cloud Napoleon regulated his domestic
affairs of state with intrepid calmness. He had no easy task. It was
the revived hatred of the masses for priests and nobles to which he
had appealed on his progress from Grenoble, and, observing the wild
outbursts of the populace at Lyons, he had whispered, "This is
madness." It was with studied deliberation, therefore, that in Paris
he cast himself completely upon the moderate liberals. This alienated
the Jacobin elements throughout the country, and they, in turn,
stirred up the royalists. When it became clear that neither Maria
Louisa nor the King of Rome was to be crowned, and that there was no
help in Austria, even the imperialists displayed a dangerous temper.
Such was the general uneasiness about war that the first measures of
army reorganization were taken almost stealthily. It was easy enough
to establish the skeleton of formation, and not very difficult to find
trustworthy officers, commissioned and non-commissioned; but to summon
recruits was to announce the coming war. Of the three hundred thousand
veterans now returned home, less than one fifth responded to the call
for volunteers; the Emperor had reckoned on four fifths at least. The
National Guard was so surly that many felt it would be bravado for
Napoleon to review them. But he was determined to do so, and on April
sixteenth the hazardous ceremony took place. Until at least half the
companies had been reviewed not a cheer was heard; then there were a
few scattering shouts here and there in the ranks; finally there was
some genuine enthusiasm.
By the middle of May the national deputies summoned at Lyons began to
arrive. They were to meet, after the fashion of Charles the Great's
assemblies, in the open field. Their task was to be the making of a
new constitution. It was not reassuring news that they brought from
their various homes, and their accounts disturbed public opinion in
Paris sadly. Before long it was known that civil war had again broken
out in Vendee; the consequences would have been most disastrous had
not La Rochejacquelein, the insurgent leader, been killed on June
fourth. As it was, the ignoble slaughter of one of their order
intensified the bitterness of the nobles. Worse still, it had been
found that of the six hundred and twenty-nine deputies five hundred
were ardent constitutionalists indifferent to Napoleon, and that only
fifty were his devoted personal friends; there were even between
thirty and forty who were Jacobins, and at Fouche's command. Under
these circumstances the Emperor dared not hold the promised national
congress. What could be substituted for it? The great dramatic artist
was not long at a loss. He determined to summon the electoral deputies
to a gorgeous open-air ceremony on June first, and have them stamp
with their approval the Additional Act. A truly impressive spectacle
would pass muster for the promised "field of May," and profoundly
affect the minds of all present. But, unfortunately, though Segur
made the plan, and though every detail was carefully studied by
Napoleon, the affair was not impressive. About eighteen thousand
persons assembled on the benches, and there was a vast crowd in the
field. The cannon roared their welcome, and the people cheered the
imperial carriage, the marshals, the body-guard, and the procession.
But when Napoleon and his brothers stepped forth, clad like actors in
theatrical costumes of white velvet, wearing Spanish cloaks
embroidered with the imperial device of golden bees, and with great
plumed hats on their heads, there was a hush of disappointment. The
populace had expected a soldier in a soldier's uniform; many had felt
sure "he" would wear that of the National Guard.
There was, however, no sign of disrespect while the ministers and the
reconstituted corps of marshals filed to their places. Among the
latter were familiar faces--Ney, Moncey, Kellermann, Serurier,
Lefebvre, Grouchy, Oudinot, Jourdan, Soult, and Massena. A committee
of the deputies then stood forth, and their chairman read an address
declaring that France desired a ruler of her own selection, and
promising loyalty in the coming war. Napoleon arose, and in spite of
his absurd clothes commanded attention while he set forth his reasons
for offering a ready-made constitution instead of risking interminable
debate. Although he declared that what was offered could, of course,
be amended, there was no applause, except from a few soldiers. When
the chambers met, a week later, Lanjuinais, one of Napoleon's lifelong
opponents, was chosen president of the House of Deputies. The speech
from the throne was clever and conciliatory, and in spite of evident
distrust both houses promised all the strength of France for
defense--but for defense only. The peers declared that under her new
institutions France could never be swept away by the temptations of
victory; the deputies asserted that nothing could carry the nation
beyond the bounds of its own defense, not even the will of a
victorious prince.
The anxieties and exertions of two months were manifest in Napoleon's
appearance. His features, though impressive, were drawn, and his long
jaw grew prominent. He lost flesh everywhere except around the waist,
so that his belly, hitherto inconspicuous, looked almost pendulous.
When standing, he folded his hands sometimes in front, sometimes
behind, but separated them frequently to take snuff or rub his nose.
Sometimes he heaved a mechanical sigh, swallowing as if to calm inward
agitation. Often he scowled, and looked out through half-closed lids
as if growing far-sighted; the twitching of his eye and ear on the
left side grew more frequent. With thickening difficulties and
increasing annoyance, serious urinary and stomach troubles set in;
there was also a persistent hacking cough. Recourse was again had to
protracted warm baths in order to alleviate the accompanying
nervousness; but as the ailments were refractory, a mystery soon
attached to the malady, and his enemies said it was a loathsome
disease. In spite of the statements both of the Prussian commissioner
at Fontainebleau, Count Truchsess-Waldburg, and of Sir Hudson Lowe, it
is highly improbable that Napoleon's health was undermined by sexual
infection. He was surrounded all his life by malignant attendants, and
among the sweepings of their minds, which in recent years have been
scattered before the public, there would be some proof of the fact. In
the utter absence of any reliable information, some have guessed that
the trouble was the preliminary stage in the disease of which he died;
and others, again, in view of his quick changes of mood, his
depressions, exaltations, sharpened sensibilities, and abrupt
rudeness, have explained all his peculiarities in disease and health
by attributing them to a recondite form of epilepsy. Exhausted and
nervous, the sufferer might well, as was the case, be found in tears
before the portrait of his son; he might well lift up his voice, as he
was heard to do, against the destiny which had played him false. But
he was quite shrewd enough to see that during his absence no regency
could be trusted, and he arranged to conduct affairs by special
messengers. Joseph was to preside and give the casting-vote in the
council of state; to Lucien was given a seat in the same body; but the
supreme power rested in Napoleon.
When Wellington replaced Castlereagh at the Congress of Vienna, it was
quickly apparent that he was greater in the field than at the
council-board. Both he and Bluecher desired to assume the offensive
quickly; but inasmuch as Alexander was determined to retain his
ascendancy in the coalition, and as each power insisted on its due
share in the struggle, it was arranged to begin hostilities on June
twenty-seventh, the earliest date at which the Russian troops could
reach the confines of France. There were to be three armies.
Schwarzenberg, with two hundred and fifty thousand men, comprising the
Austrian, Russian, and Bavarian contingents, was to attack across the
upper Rhine; Bluecher, with one hundred and fifty thousand Prussians,
was to advance across the lower Rhine; and Wellington in the
Netherlands was to collect an army of one hundred and fifty thousand,
compounded of Dutch, Belgians, Hanoverians, and some thirty-eight
thousand British, who could be there assembled. The two latter armies
were in existence by the first of June, but Wellington was
dissatisfied with the quality of his motley force; even the English
contingent was not the best possible, for his Peninsular veterans had
been sent to find their match in Jackson's riflemen at the battle of
New Orleans.
On the eve of hostilities Napoleon had one hundred and twenty-four
thousand effective men, and three thousand five hundred more in his
camp train; Wellington had one hundred and six thousand, but of these
four thousand Hanoverians were left in garrison; Bluecher had about one
hundred and seventeen thousand. Neither of the two allied generals
dreamed that Napoleon would choose the daring form of attack upon
which he decided--that of a wedge driven into the broken line nearly a
hundred miles in length upon which his enemy lay--for to do so he must
pass the Ardennes. But he did choose it, and selected for the purpose
the valleys of the Sambre and the Meuse. Allowing for the differences
in topography, the idea was identical with that which, nineteen years
before, he had executed splendidly in Piedmont and repeated in
Germany. The twin enemy seemed unaware that its long and straggling
line must, in case of activity, either be broken to maintain the
respective bases or else abandon one base for concentration and be cut
off from supplies. Wellington's base was westward at Antwerp,
Bluecher's eastward through Liege toward the Rhine. Vacillation would
ensue, Napoleon felt, on a central attack, and in that vacillation he
intended to repeat with Bluecher what he had done with Brunswick at
Jena.
The opening of the campaign was sufficiently auspicious. By a superb
march during the night of June thirteenth, Napoleon's army had gained
a most advantageous position. The first corps under d'Erlon was at
Solre on the Sambre, the second under Reille was at Leers. The guard,
the sixth corps under Lobau, the line cavalry and the third corps
under Vandamme, stood in that order on a line northeasterly from
Beaumont, and due east of that place were four cavalry corps; the
fourth corps under the young and dashing Gerard had marched from Metz
and were at Philippeville; to the south lay the guard cavalry and the
reserve artillery under Grouchy. In front was Charleroi, whence a
broad turnpike led almost direct to Brussels, thirty-four miles due
north; another turned eastward toward Liege. Thirteen miles distant on
this was Sombreffe; somewhat farther on that, Quatre Bras, both on the
highway running east and west between Namur and Nivelles. To have
accomplished such marches as it did, the French army must have been
fine; to have secured such a brilliant strategic position its general
must have been almost inspired. He commanded the operating lines of
both Wellington and Bluecher, while they were far distant from each
other, separated by serious obstacles, both alike instinct with
centrifugal rather than centripetal tendency. The same high qualities
which shone in their general distinguished the subordinate French
commanders. Though many of the famous names are absent from the
list,--Mortier, for instance, having fallen ill on the frontier,--yet
Soult was present as chief of staff, and Ney was coming up to take
command of the left wing. Reille, d'Erlon, and Foy were veterans of
the Peninsular war; what twenty-two years of service had done for the
"wild Hun," Vandamme, is known. Kellermann was made famous by Marengo,
Lobau was noted for daring, Gerard had earned distinction in Russia,
and though Grouchy's merit has been the theme of much discussion, yet
he had been famous under Jourdan and Moreau, and nothing had occurred
in the long interval to tarnish his reputation.
Nearly half of Bluecher's troops were irregular reserves, and many of
the regulars were recruits, but all were thoroughly drilled and well
equipped. The passion of hatred which animated them was comparable
only to the "French fury" with which Napoleon's army would fight for
national existence. Such was the reverence for routine among the
Prussian officers, and so bitter were the jealousies of the petty
aristocracy from which they sprang, that the King dared not promote on
any basis except that of seniority. In order to make Gneisenau second
in command, York, Kleist, and Tauenzien were stationed elsewhere, and
Buelow was put in command of a reserve to hold Belgium when Bluecher
should advance to Paris. The aged but fiery marshal had not mended his
health by the self-indulgence of a year; the three division generals,
Ziethen, Pirch, and Thielemann were capable men of local renown.
Gneisenau and Buelow were the only first-rate men among the Prussian
commanders, but for rousing enthusiasm Bluecher's name was a word to
conjure with. Wellington was felt by his officers and soldiers to be a
man of real power; his British recruits were well drilled, and his
veterans were good. His associate generals were no more famous than
those of Gneisenau, but they were, for the most part, English
gentlemen with a high sense of duty and much executive ability. One of
his corps was commanded by the Prince of Orange, a respectable
soldier, whose name, however, was more valuable than the experience he
had gained in the Peninsula as aide-de-camp; the other corps was under
Lord Hill, an admirable subordinate and an excellent commander. The
only English general whose name is a familiar one abroad was Picton,
who died on the field. As to the quality of the respective armies, it
has become the fashion of each nation to decry that of its own and
overrate that of the other two. Thus they condone their own blunders,
and yet heighten the renown of victory. Napoleon was superior in
organization, in cavalry, and in artillery to either Wellington or
Bluecher, but he was inferior to both in infantry. He was in wretched
health, and he had a desperate cause. Taking fully into account his
consummate ability and personal prestige, it yet remains true that the
odds against him were high, certainly eight to five.
Ziethen's posts before Charleroi saw the French camp-fires in the
early hours of June fourteenth; that evening they began to withdraw
toward Fleurus, whither the remainder of the Prussian army was
gradually set in motion. It seems incredible that this should have
been the first move of the allies toward concentrating their widely
scattered forces, for neither Wellington nor Bluecher was completely
surprised. Both commanders had for two days been aware, in a general
way, of Napoleon's movements, but they were awaiting developments. It
was Wellington's opinion, carefully set forth in his old age, that it
would have been better strategy for the French to advance so as to
turn his right, seize his munitions, and cut off his base; but as this
would have rolled up the entire allied force, ready to deliver battle
with odds of two to one, the statement may perhaps be accepted as an
explanation, but certainly not as a justification.
In the dawn of the fifteenth a ringing, rousing proclamation, like
those of the olden time, and written the day before on the anniversary
of Marengo, was read to the French soldiers. It was in high spirits
that the army, in three columns, began to march. The left, under
Reille, dislodged the Prussian outposts from Thuin, and, forcing them
back through Marchiennes, seized the bridge at that place, and crossed
to the left bank of the Sambre. The movement was complete by ten in
the morning. The center under Napoleon comprised the mass of the army:
Pajol, Vandamme, Lobau, the Guard, Exelmans, Kellermann, and Milhaud.
Soult despatched his orders by a solitary aide, who broke his leg by a
fall from his horse, and failed to deliver them. Though at equally
critical moments before both Eylau and Wagram, Berthier had done as
Soult did, with identical results, yet the latter was justly and
severely blamed. Had Vandamme been found, the movements of the center
would have been greatly accelerated, the speedy capture of Charleroi
would have enabled the third corps to reach Fleurus in time to
intercept Ziethen, and thus the whole course of events would have been
changed. The marshal's ill success was, therefore, as Napoleon called
it, a "deplorable mischance," and it was high noon before Pajol, with
the van, reached Charleroi and, after a smart engagement, drove out
the Prussians. The right wing, under Gerard, was in motion at five in
the morning, but it also was detained by a serious disaster. Shortly
after starting it was found that Bourmont, the commander of its best
division, a man who had been Chouan, imperialist, and royalist by
turns, had deserted with his chief of staff and eight soldiers. Having
been at the council of war, he had the latest information of
Napoleon's secret plans, and his treason demoralized the troops he so
basely abandoned. It was long before confidence could be restored; the
crossing at Charleroi had been delayed too long, and it was nightfall
when Gerard at last reached Chatelet, four miles below, secured the
bridge, and crossed with only half his men. The campaign opened, if
not in disaster, at least with only partial success.