WATERLOO[24]
[Footnote 24: Further references for this and the following
chapter: Batty: Historical Sketch; Baudus: Etudes sur
Napoleon; Bullock: Diary; Cotton: Voice from Waterloo;
Damitz: Campagne de 1815; A. S. Fraser: Letters; W. Fraser:
Words, etc.; Gomm: Letters and Journals; Kennedy: Notes on
Waterloo; Vaulabelle: Campagne de Waterloo; Gurwood:
Wellington's Despatches; likewise the lives and memoirs of
Davout, Drouot, Gneisenau, Wellington, Hill, Grouchy (par
Pascallet), and Vandamme; Waterloo Letters, edited by
Siborne; Waterloo Roll-call, compiled by Dalton.]
Hougomont -- La Haye Sainte -- d'Erlon Repulsed -- Ney's Cavalry
Attack -- Napoleon's One Chance Lost -- Plancenoit -- Union of
Wellington and Bluecher -- Napoleon's Convulsive Effort -- Charge
of the Guard -- The Rout -- Napoleon's Flight.
Napoleon's salute to Wellington was a cannonade from a hundred and
twenty guns. The fire was directed toward the enemy's center and left,
but it was ineffectual, except as the smoke partially masked the first
French movement, which was the attack on Hougomont by their left, the
corps of Reille. This was in three divisions, commanded respectively
by Bachelu, Foy, and the Emperor's brother Jerome, whose director was
Guillemenot. Preceded by skirmishers, the column of Jerome gained
partial shelter in a wood to the southwest of their goal, but the
resistance to their advance was vigorous; on the skirts of the grove
were Nassauers, Hanoverians, and a detachment of the English guards,
all picked men, and behind, on higher ground, was an English battery.
The two other divisions pressed on behind, and for a time their gains
were apparently substantial. But, checked in front by artillery fire,
and by a murderous fusillade from loopholes cut in the walls of
Hougomont, the besiegers hesitated. Their fiery energy was not
scientifically directed; but such was their zeal, and so great were
their numbers, that one brigade doubled on the rear of the fortalice,
drove back the English guards from before the entrance to the
courtyard on the north, and charged for the opening. Some of the
French actually forced a passage, and the success of Napoleon's first
move was in sight when five gallant Englishmen, by sheer physical
strength, shut the stout gate in the face of the assailants. A
fearless French grenadier scaled the wall, but he and his comrades
within were killed. A second assault on the same spot failed; so, too,
a third from the west, and still another from the east, all of which
were repelled by the English guards, who moved down from above, and
drove the French into the wood, where they held their own. These close
and bloody encounters were contrary to Reille's orders, but in the
thick of combat his various detachments could not be restrained.
[Illustration: From the collection of W. C. Crane
NAPOLEON FRANCIS CHARLES JOSEPH, DUKE OF REICHSTADT, ETC., ETC., SON
OF NAPOLEON BONAPARTE.]
The second division of the battle was the main attack on Wellington's
left by d'Erlon's corps. Between twelve and one a Prussian hussar was
captured with a message from Bluecher to Wellington announcing the
Prussian advance. At once the postscript was added to the second
despatch to Grouchy, already mentioned, and Napoleon made ready for
his great effort. Unable to sit his horse, he had dismounted, and,
seated at the table on which his map was spread, had been frequently
seen to nod and doze. Ney and d'Erlon, left to their own judgment, had
evolved a scheme of formation so complex that when tried, as it now
was, it proved unworkable. The confusion was veiled by a terrific,
continuous, and destructive artillery fire. After some delay, and a
readjustment involving preparations against the possible flank attack
of the Prussians, d'Erlon's corps advanced in four columns, under
Donzelot, Allix, Marcognet, and Durutte respectively. Opposed was
Picton's decimated corps, with Bylandt's Dutch-Belgian brigade, which
had been all along a target for the strongest French battery, one of
seventy-eight guns,[25] and was now to bear the first onset of the
French troops. Bylandt's men had stood firm under the awful artillery
fire, but their uniforms were like those of the French, and in a melee
this fact might draw upon them the fire of their own associates, as
later in the day at Hougomont it actually did, and they grew very
uneasy. Durutte, on the extreme right, seized Papelotte, but lost it
almost immediately. The conflict then focused about La Haye Sainte,
where the garden and orchard were seized by an overwhelming force. The
buildings had been inadequately fortified, but Major Baring, with his
garrison, displayed prodigies of valor, and held them.
[Footnote 25: Houssaye says eighty (1815, p. 338). See also
Ropes, p. 305.]
The assailants, supported hitherto by batteries firing over their
heads, now charged up the hill; as they reached the crest, their own
guns were silenced, but their yells of defiance rent the air. The
Dutch-Belgians of the first rank harkened an instant, and, followed by
the jeers and menaces of the British grenadiers and Royal Scots, fled
incontinently until they reached a place of safety, when they reformed
and stood. Picton was thus left unsupported, but at that decisive
moment Donzelot tried the new tactics again, and his ranks fell into
momentary confusion. Picton charged, the British artillery opened, and
though the English general fell, mortally wounded, his men hurled back
the French. This first success enabled Wellington to bring in more of
his infantry, with the Scots Greys, and to throw in his cavalry, the
First Royal Dragoons and the Enniskillens, for action against a body
of French riders, under Roussel, which, having swept the fields around
La Haye Sainte, was now coming on. His order was for Somerset and
Ponsonby to charge. The shock was terrific, the French cavalry
yielded, and the whole of d'Erlon's line rolled back in disorder.
Efforts were made by the daring Englishmen to create complete
confusion, but they were not entirely successful, for Durutte's column
maintained its formation, while the French lancers and dragoons
wrought fearful havoc among the British infantry somewhat disorganized
by victory. Ponsonby fell among his men, and it was due to Vandeleur's
horse that the French advance was checked. This ended the effort upon
which Napoleon had based his hope of success; there was still
desultory fighting at Hougomont, and the Prussians, though not
visible, were forming behind the forest of Paris.
There was a long and ominous pause before the next renewal of
conflict. Wellington used it to repair his shattered left and brought
in Lambert's Peninsular veterans, twenty-two hundred strong. Napoleon
quickly formed a corps, under Lobau, intended to repel the flank
attack of the Prussians. Ney was determined to redeem his repulse by a
second front attack, and Napoleon, either by word or silence, gave
consent. While the batteries kept up their fire, the marshal gathered
in the center the largest mass of horsemen which had ever charged on a
European battle-field--twelve thousand men, light and heavy cavalry.
His aim was to supplement Reille, still engaged at Hougomont, and dash
in upon the allied right center. Donzelot's column, now reformed, was
hurled directly against La Haye Sainte, and the mass of the cavalry
surged up the hill. The gunners of Wellington's artillery,
unprotected even by breastworks, stood to their pieces until the
attacking line was within forty yards; then they delivered their final
salvo, and fled. Wavering for an instant, the French advanced with a
cheer. Before them stood the enemy in hollow squares, four ranks deep,
the front kneeling, the second at the charge, the two others ready to
fire. The horsemen dared not rush on those bristling lines. In and out
among the serried ranks they flowed and foamed, discharging their
pistols and slashing with their sabers, until, discouraged by losses
and exhausted by useless exertion, their efforts grew feeble. Dubois's
brigade, according to a doubtful tradition, dashed in ignorance over
the brow of a certain shallow ravine, men and horses rolling in horrid
confusion into the unsuspected pit. The hollow was undoubtedly there
at the time, although it has since been filled up, and, it is
believed, was likewise the grave of the fifteen hundred men and two
thousand horses that were eventually collected from round about. The
British reserve cavalry, supported by the infantry fire and a few
hastily collected batteries, completed the defeat of Ney's first
charge. A second was repulsed in the same way. The undaunted marshal
then waited for reinforcements. No fewer than thirty-seven squadrons
came in, Napoleon sending Kellermann's heavy dragoons as a last
resort. Guyot's division of the heavy cavalry of the guard was also
there--some say they had been summoned by Ney, others that they came
of their own accord; the question arises because, in the next stage of
the battle, their absence from the station assigned to them was a
serious matter. Another time, and still another, this mighty force
moved against the foe. Pouring in and out, backward and forward, among
the squares, they lost cohesion and force until, in the very moment of
Wellington's extremity, they withdrew, as before, exhausted and
spent.
The energy and zeal of the English commander had been in strange
contrast to Napoleon's growing apathy; Wellington had further
strengthened his line by two Brunswick regiments and Mercer's battery,
and at the last by Adam's brigade with the King's Germans under
Dupont. This done, his stand had been superb to the last. Yet he was
now at the end of his resources. It was six, and to his repeated
messages calling for Bluecher's aid there had been no response.
Although a portion of Buelow's men had been fighting for more than an
hour, yet the Prussian army was not yet fully engaged and he himself,
having no reinforcement nor relief, seemed face to face with defeat.
Baring had held La Haye Sainte with unsurpassed gallantry; his calls
for men had been answered, but his requisitions for ammunition were
strangely neglected. Ney, seeing how vain his cavalry charges were,
withdrew before the last one took place, arrayed Bachelu's division,
collected a number of field-pieces, and fell furiously, with cannonade
and bayonet charge, upon the farm-house. His success was complete; the
garrison fled, his pursuit was hot, and, leading in person, he broke
through the opposing line at its very heart. Had he been supported by
a strong reserve, the battle would have been won. Mueffling,
Wellington's Prussian aide, dashed away to the Prussian lines, and, as
he drew near the head of Ziethen's division, shouted: "The battle is
lost if the corps do not press on and at once support the English
army." Ney's adjutant, demanding infantry to complete the breach he
had made, was received by Napoleon with petulance. One brigade from
Buelow's corps had attacked at about half-past four; repulsed at first,
their onset was growing fiercer, for two other brigades had come in.
Soult had opposed Ney's waste of cavalry. But the latter was
desperate, and with the other generals was displaying a wilfulness
bordering on insubordination. A portion of the guard had just been
detached for Lobau's support. To Ney's demand for infantry the Emperor
replied: "Where do you expect me to get them from? Am I to make them?"
In truth, his mind and energies were now more concerned with Bluecher
than with Wellington, and he was already fighting the advance of Buelow
in his plans. But had the old Bonaparte spirit moved the chieftain to
put himself at the head of what remained of the guard infantry, and to
make a desperate dash for Ney's support, a temporary advantage would
almost certainly have been won; then, with a remnant flushed by
victory, he could have turned to Lobau's assistance before the main
Prussian army came in. Thus was lost Napoleon's one chance to deal
Wellington a decisive blow.
It was to prevent a dangerous flank movement of the enemy--the
advance, namely, of Buelow, with the cavalry corps of Prince William,
upon Plancenoit--that Napoleon had detached the young guard, under
Duhesme, a third of his precious reserve, for the support of Lobau's
right; Durutte being in the rear of his left, that portion was already
as strong as it could be made. Nevertheless the Prussians seized
Plancenoit; at once the French rallied, and drove them out; Bluecher
threw in eight fresh battalions, and these, with the six already
engaged, dashed for the ravine leading to the village. The passage was
lined with French, and for a time it was like the valley of Hinnom;
but the Prussians pressed on, and the young guard reeled. Napoleon
sent in two battalions of the old guard, under Morand and Pelet; their
firmness restored that of their comrades, and the place was cleared,
two thousand dead remaining as the victims of that furious charge and
countercharge. At seven Buelow was back again in his first position,
awaiting the arrival of Pirch's corps to restore his riddled ranks.
Napoleon had now left only twelve of the twenty-three battalions of
the guard reserve, less than six thousand men. Wellington had repaired
the breach made by Ney, and, though still hard pressed on his right,
Ziethen had made good the strength of his left, whence some of his
cavalry, the brigades of Vivian and Vandeleur, had been detached to
repair other weak spots in the line. At this moment Ziethen conceived
that Buelow was further giving way, and hesitated in his advance. The
brief interval was noted by Durutte, and with a last desperate effort
he carried Papelotte, La Haye, and Smohain, hoping to prevent the
fatal juncture. It was half an hour before Ziethen retrieved his loss,
and thus probably saved Wellington's left. By that time Pirch had come
up, and with this reinforcement Buelow, behind the heavy fire of his
powerful batteries, charged Lobau, and advanced on the guard at
Plancenoit. Lobau, the hero of Aspern, stood like a rock until
Durutte's men and the remnants of d'Erlon's corps, flying past his
flank, induced a panic in his ranks. Thereupon the whole French right
fell into confusion: all except the guard, who stood in the churchyard
of Plancenoit until surrounded and reduced in number to about two
hundred and fifty men; then, under Pelet's command, they formed a
square, placed their eagle in the midst, drove off the cavalry which
blocked their path, and reached the main line of retreat with scarcely
enough men to keep their formation. The name of Ziethen must stand in
equal renown with that of Colborne among the annals of Waterloo. The
rout of the French left was the beginning of Napoleon's calamity, as
that of his right under Colborne was its consummation.
Before the combined armies of Wellington and Bluecher the French could
not stand; but, in spite of inferior numbers and the manifest signs
of defeat, General Bonaparte might have conducted an orderly retreat.
The case was different with Napoleon the Emperor, even though he were
now a liberator; to retreat would have been merely a postponement of
the day of reckoning. Accordingly, the great adventurer, facing his
destiny on the height at Rossomme, determined, in a last desperate
effort, to retrieve the day, and stake all on a last cast of the dice.
For an instant he appears to have contemplated a change of front,
wheeling for that purpose by Hougomont, where his resistance was still
strong; but he finally decided to crush the Anglo-Belgian right, if
possible; roll up both armies into a confused mass, so that,
perchance, they might weaken rather than strengthen each other; and
then, with Grouchy's aid, strike for victory. Though indifferent to
Ney's demands, he had set in array against Buelow the very choicest
troops of his army; surely they might stand firm while his blow
elsewhere was delivered. But he did not reckon in this with
Wellington's reserve power; though the dramatic stories of the duke's
mortal anxiety rest on slight foundation, there is no doubt that he
felt a great relief when the Prussians entered the combat, for
immediately he turned his attention, not to rest, but to the reforming
of his line. Officers and men, English or German, knew nothing of
Buelow's or Bluecher's whereabouts when Napoleon took his resolution;
but, sensible of having been strengthened, they displayed at half-past
seven that evening the same grim determination they had shown at
eleven in the morning. Though Wellington's task of standing firm until
Bluecher's arrival was accomplished, and though, perhaps, his soldiers
heard the distant firing of the Prussian guns, yet nothing could be
seen across the long interval, the noise attracted little attention,
and neither he nor they could know what was yet before them. It was,
therefore, splendid courage in general and army which kept them ever
ready for any exertion, however desperate.
Against this army, in this temper, Napoleon despatched what was left
of that force which was the peculiar product of his life and genius,
the old and middle guard. Most of its members were the children of
peasants, and had been born in ante-Revolution days. Neither
intelligent in appearance nor graceful in bearing, they nevertheless
had the look of perfect fighting-machines. Their huge bearskin caps
and long mustaches did not diminish the fierceness of their aspect.
They had been selected for size, docility, and strength; they had been
well paid, well fed, and well drilled; they had, therefore, no ties
but those to their Emperor, no homes but their barracks, and no
enthusiasm but their passion for imperial France. They would have
followed no leader unless he were distinguished in their system of
life; accordingly, Ney was selected for that honor; and as they came
in proud confidence up the Charleroi road, their Emperor passed them
in review. Like every other division, they had been told that the
distant roar was from Grouchy's guns; when informed that all was ready
for the finishing-stroke, that there was to be a general advance along
the whole line, and that no man was to be denied his share in certain
victory, even the sick, it is said, rose up, and hurried into the
ranks. The air seemed rent with their hoarse cheers as their columns
swung in measured tread diagonally across the northern spur of the
cruciform elevation which divided the surface of the valley.
Wellington, informed of the French movement, as it is thought by a
deserter, issued hurried orders to the center, ordered Maitland's
brigade to where the charge must be met, and posted himself, with
Napier's battery, somewhat to its right. While yet his words of
warning were scarcely uttered, the head of the French column
appeared. The English batteries belched forth a welcome; but although
Ney's horse, the fifth that day, was shot, the men he led suffered
little, and with him on foot at their side they came steadily onward.
The British guards were lying behind the hill-crest, and the French
could discern no foe--only a few mounted officers, of whom Wellington
was one. Astonished and incredulous, the assailants pressed steadily
on until within twenty yards of the English line. "Up, guards! make
ready!" rang out the duke's well-known call. The British jumped up and
fired; about three hundred of Ney's gallant soldiers fell. But there
was no confusion; on both sides volley succeeded volley, and this
lasted until the British charged. Then, and then only, the French
withdrew. Simultaneously Donzelot had fallen upon Alten's division;
but he was leading a forlorn hope, and making no impression.
As Ney fell back, a body of French cuirassiers advanced upon the
English batteries. Their success was partial, and behind them a second
column of the guard was formed. Again the assault was renewed; but the
second attempt fared worse than the first. To the right of Maitland,
Adam's brigade, with the Fifty-second regiment, had taken stand;
wheeling now, these drove a deadly flank fire into the advancing
French, while the others poured in a devastating hail of bullets from
the front. The front ranks of the French replied with spirit, but when
the British had completed their manoeuver, Colborne gave the order,
his men cheered in response, and the countercharge began. "Vive
l'Empereur!" came the responsive cheer from the thinning ranks of the
assailants, and still they came on. But in the awful crash they
reeled, confusion followed, and almost in the twinkling of an eye the
rout began. A division of the old guard, the two battalions under
Cambronne, retreated in fair order to the center of the valley, where
they made their last gallant stand against the overwhelming numbers of
Hugh Halkett's German brigade. They fought until but a hundred and
fifty survived. From far away the despairing cry of "Sauve qui peut!"
seemed to ring on their ears. To the first summons of surrender the
leader had replied with dogged defiance; the second was made soon
after, about three in the afternoon, and to this he yielded. He and
his men filed to the English rear without a murmur, but in deep
dejection. This occurrence has passed into tradition as an epic event;
what Cambronne might well have said, "The guard dies, but never
surrenders," was not uttered by him, but it epitomizes their
character, and in the phrase which seems to have been shouted by the
men themselves in their last desperate struggle, they and their leader
have found immortality.
The last charge of what remained of the guard took place almost at the
moment when Durutte was finally routed. Wellington then sent in the
fresh cavalry brigades of Vivian and Vandeleur against the column of
Donzelot and the remnants of the French cavalry. These swept all
before them, and then the duke gave the order for a general advance.
The French left fell into panic, and fled toward Belle Alliance.
Before La Haye Sainte stood two squares of French soldiers, the
favored legion chosen to protect the imperial headquarters. In the
fatal hour it splendidly vindicated the choice, and amid the chaos
stood in perfect order. Throughout the famous charge of his devoted
men Napoleon rode hither and thither, from Rossomme to Belle Alliance.
His looks grew dark, but at the very last he called hoarsely to the
masses of disorganized troops that came whirling by, bidding them to
stand fast. All in vain; and as the last square came on he pressed
inside its serried wall. It was not too soon, for the Prussians had
now joined the forward movement, and in the supreme disorder
consequent the other square dissolved. Napoleon's convoy withstood the
shock of a charge from the Twelfth British light dragoons, and again
of a Prussian charge at Rossomme, where Gneisenau took up the fierce
pursuit. Though assaulted, and hard beset by musketry, the square
moved silently on. There were no words except an occasional remark
addressed by Napoleon to his brother Jerome, or to one of the
officers. At eleven Genappe was reached; there, such was the activity
of the pursuers, all hope of an orderly retreat vanished, and the
square melted away. Napoleon had become an object of pity--his eyes
set, his frame collapsed, his great head rolling in a drowsy stupor.
Monthyon and Bertrand set him as best they could upon a horse, and,
one on each side, supported him as they rode. They had an escort of
forty men. At Quatre Bras they despatched a messenger to summon
Grouchy, bidding him to retire on Namur. The Prussians were only one
hour behind. At daybreak the hunted Emperor reached Charleroi, but his
attendants dared not delay; two rickety carriages were secured, and it
was not until the wretched caravan reached Philippeville that the
fugitives obtained a few hours' repose.