_Strength of the two armies--Plans of their Generals--THE BATTLE OF
WATERLOO commenced on the forenoon of the 18th June--French attack
directed against the British centre--shifted to their right--Charges
of the Cuirassiers--and their reception--Advance of the
Prussians--Ney's charge at the head of the Guards--His repulse--and
Napoleon's orders for retreat--The victorious Generals meet at La
Belle Alliance--Behaviour of Napoleon during the
engagement--Blucher's pursuit of the French--Loss of the British--of
the French--Napoleon's subsequent attempts to undervalue the
military skill of the Duke of Wellington answered--His unjust
censures of Grouchy--The notion that the British were on the point
of losing the battle when the Prussians came up, shown to be
erroneous._
[Sidenote: WATERLOO.]
There might be a difference of opinion in a mere military question,
whether the English general ought to have hazarded a battle for the
defence of Brussels, or whether, falling back on the strong city of
Antwerp, it might have been safer to wait the arrival of the
reinforcements which were in expectation. But in a moral and political
point of view, the protecting Brussels was of the last importance.
Napoleon has declared, that, had he gained the battle of Waterloo, he
had the means of revolutionizing Belgium;[141] and although he was
doubtless too sanguine in this declaration, yet unquestionably the
French had many partisans in a country which they had so long possessed.
The gaining of the battle of Ligny had no marked results, still less had
the indecisive action at Quatre-bras; but had these been followed by the
retreat of the English army to Antwerp, and the capture of Brussels, the
capital city of the Netherlands, they would then have attained the rank
of great and decisive victories.
Napoleon, indeed, pretended to look to still more triumphant results
from such a victory, and to expect nothing less than the dissolution of
the European Alliance as the reward of a decided defeat of the English
in Belgium. So long as it was not mentioned by what means this was to be
accomplished, those who had no less confidence in Napoleon's intrigues
than his military talents, must have supposed that he had already in
preparation among the foreign powers some deep scheme, tending to sap
the foundation of their alliance, and ready to be carried into action
when he should attain a certain point of success. But when it is
explained that these extensive expectations rested on Napoleon's belief
that a single defeat of the Duke of Wellington would occasion a total
change of government in England; that the statesmen of the Opposition
would enter into office as a thing of course, and instantly conclude a
peace with him;[142] and that the coalition, thus deprived of subsidies,
must therefore instantly withdraw the armies which were touching the
French frontier on its whole northern and eastern line--Napoleon's
extravagant speculations can only serve to show how very little he must
have known of the English nation, with which he had been fighting so
long. The war with France had been prosecuted more than twenty years,
and though many of these were years of bad success and defeat, the
nation had persevered in a resistance which terminated at last in
complete triumph. The national opinion of the great general who led the
British troops, was too strongly rooted to give way upon a single
misfortune; and the event of the campaign of 1814, in which Napoleon,
repeatedly victorious, was at length totally defeated and dethroned,
would have encouraged a more fickle people than the English to continue
the war notwithstanding a single defeat, if such an event had unhappily
occurred. The Duke had the almost impregnable fortress and seaport of
Antwerp in his rear, and might have waited there the reinforcements from
America. Blucher had often shown how little he was disheartened by
defeat; at worst, he would have fallen back on a Russian army of 200,000
men, who were advancing on the Rhine. The hopes, therefore, that the
battle of Waterloo, if gained by the French, would have finished the
war, must be abandoned as visionary, whether we regard the firm and
manly character of the great personage at the head of the British
monarchy, the state of parties in the House of Commons, where many
distinguished members of the Opposition had joined the Ministry on the
question of the war, or the general feeling of the country, who saw with
resentment the new irruption of Napoleon. It cannot, however, be denied,
that any success gained by Napoleon in this first campaign, would have
greatly added to his influence both in France and other countries, and
might have endangered the possession of Flanders. The Duke of Wellington
resolved, therefore, to protect Brussels, if possible, even by the risk
of a general action.
By the march from Quatre-bras to Waterloo, the Duke had restored his
communication with Blucher, which had been dislocated by the retreat of
the Prussians to Wavre. When established there, Blucher was once more
upon the same line with the British, the distance between the Prussian
right flank, and the British left, being about five leagues, or five
leagues and a half. The ground which lay between the two extreme points,
called the heights of St. Lambert, was exceedingly rugged and wooded;
and the cross-roads which traversed it, forming the sole means of
communication between the English and Prussians, were dreadfully broken
up by the late tempestuous weather.
The duke despatched intelligence of his position in front of Waterloo to
Prince Blucher, acquainting him at the same time with his resolution to
give Napoleon the battle which he seemed to desire, providing the prince
would afford him the support of two divisions of the Prussian army. The
answer was worthy of the indefatigable and indomitable old man, who was
never so much disconcerted by defeat as to prevent his being willing and
ready for combat on the succeeding day. He sent for reply, that he would
move to the Duke of Wellington's support, not with two divisions only,
but with his whole army; and that he asked no time to prepare for the
movement, longer than was necessary to supply food and serve out
cartridges to his soldiers.
It was three o'clock on the afternoon of the 17th,[143] when the British
came on the field, and took up their bivouac for the night in the order
of battle in which they were to fight the next day. It was much later
before Napoleon reached the heights of Belle Alliance in person, and his
army did not come up in full force till the morning of the 18th. Great
part of the French had passed the night in the little village of
Genappe, and Napoleon's own quarters had been at the farm-house called
Caillou, about a mile in the rear of La Belle Alliance.
In the morning, when Napoleon had formed his line of battle, his brother
Jerome, to whom he ascribed the possession of very considerable military
talents, commanded on the left--Counts Reille and D'Erlon the
centre--and Count Lobau on the right. Maréchals Soult and Ney acted as
lieutenant-generals to the Emperor. The French force on the field
consisted probably of about 75,000 men. The English army did not exceed
that number, at the highest computation. Each army was commanded by the
chief, under whom they had offered to defy the world. So far the forces
were equal. But the French had the very great advantage of being trained
and experienced soldiers of the same nation, whereas the English, in the
Duke of Wellington's army, did not exceed 35,000; and although the
German Legion were veteran troops, the other soldiers under his command
were those of the German contingents, lately levied, unaccustomed to act
together, and in some instances suspected to be lukewarm to the cause in
which they were engaged; so that it would have been imprudent to trust
more to their assistance and co-operation than could possibly be
avoided. In Buonaparte's mode of calculating, allowing one Frenchman to
stand as equal to one Englishman, and one Englishman or Frenchman
against two of any other nation, the inequality of force on the Duke of
Wellington's side was very considerable.
The British army thus composed, was divided into two lines. The right of
the first line consisted of the second and fourth English divisions, the
third and sixth Hanoverians, and the first corps of Belgians, under Lord
Hill. The centre was composed of the corps of the Prince of Orange, with
the Brunswickers and troops of Nassau, having the guards, under General
Cooke, on the right, and the division of General Alten on the left. The
left wing consisted of the divisions of Picton, Lambert, and Kempt. The
second line was in most instances formed of the troops deemed least
worthy of confidence, or which had suffered too severely in the action
of the 16th to be again exposed until extremity. It was placed behind
the declivity of the heights to the rear, in order to be sheltered from
the cannonade, but sustained much loss from shells during the action.
The cavalry were stationed in the rear, distributed all along the line,
but chiefly posted on the left of the centre, to the east of the
Charleroi causeway. The farm-house of La Haye Sainte, in the front of
the centre, was garrisoned, but there was not time to prepare it
effectually for defence. The villa, gardens, and farm-yard of Hougomont
formed a strong advanced post towards the centre of the right. The whole
British position formed a sort of curve, the centre of which was nearest
to the enemy, and the extremities, particularly on their right, drawn
considerably backward.
[Sidenote: PLANS OF ATTACK.]
The plans of these two great generals were extremely simple. The object
of the Duke of Wellington was to maintain his line of defence, until the
Prussians coming up, should give him a decided superiority of force.
They were expected about eleven or twelve o'clock; but the extreme
badness of the roads, owing to the violence of the storm, detained them
several hours later.
Napoleon's scheme was equally plain and decided. He trusted by his usual
rapidity of attack, to break and destroy the British army before the
Prussians should arrive in the field; after which, he calculated to have
an opportunity of destroying the Prussians, by attacking them on their
march through the broken ground interposed betwixt them and the British.
In these expectations he was the more confident, that he believed
Grouchy's force, detached on the 17th in pursuit of Blucher, was
sufficient to retard, if not altogether to check, the march of the
Prussians. His grounds for entertaining this latter opinion, were, as we
shall afterwards show, too hastily adopted.
Commencing the action according to his usual system, Napoleon kept his
guard in reserve, in order to take opportunity of charging with them,
when repeated attacks of column after column, and squadron after
squadron, should induce his wearied enemy to show some symptoms of
irresolution. But Napoleon's movements were not very rapid. His army had
suffered by the storm even more than the English, who were in bivouac at
three in the afternoon of the 17th June; while the French were still
under march, and could not get into line on the heights of La Belle
Alliance until ten or eleven o'clock of the 18th. The English army had
thus some leisure to take food, and to prepare their arms before the
action; and Napoleon lost several hours ere he could commence the
attack. Time was, indeed, inestimably precious for both parties, and
hours, nay, minutes, were of importance. But of this Napoleon was less
aware than was the Duke of Wellington.
The tempest which had raged with tropical violence all night, abated in
the morning; but the weather continued gusty and stormy during the whole
day. Betwixt eleven and twelve, before noon, on the memorable 18th June,
this dreadful and decisive action commenced, with a cannonade on the
part of the French, instantly followed by an attack, commanded by
Jerome, on the advanced post of Hougomont. The troops of Nassau, which
occupied the wood around the chateau, were driven out by the French, but
the utmost efforts of the assailants were unable to force the house,
garden, and farm offices, which a party of the guards sustained with the
most dauntless resolution. The French redoubled their efforts, and
precipitated themselves in numbers on the exterior hedge, which screens
the garden-wall, not perhaps aware of the internal defence afforded by
the latter. They fell in great numbers on this point by the fire of the
defenders, to which they were exposed in every direction. The number of
their troops, however, enabled them, by possession of the wood, to mask
Hougomont for a time, and to push on with their cavalry and artillery
against the British right, which formed in squares to receive them. The
fire was incessant, but without apparent advantage on either side. The
attack was at length repelled so far, that the British again opened
their communication with Hougomont, and that important garrison was
reinforced by Colonel Hepburn and a body of the guards.
Meantime, the fire of artillery having become general along the line,
the force of the French attack was transferred to the British centre. It
was made with the most desperate fury, and received with the most
stubborn resolution. The assault was here made upon the farm-house of
Saint Jean by four columns of infantry, and a large mass of cuirassiers,
who took the advance. The cuirassiers came with the utmost intrepidity
along the Genappe causeway, where they were encountered and charged by
the English heavy cavalry; and a combat was maintained at the sword's
point, till the French were driven back on their own position, where
they were protected by their artillery. The four columns of French
infantry, engaged in the same attack, forced their way forward beyond
the farm of La Haye Sainte, and dispersing a Belgian regiment, were in
the act of establishing themselves in the centre of the British
position, when they were attacked by the brigade of General Pack,
brought up from the second line by General Picton, while, at the same
time, a brigade of British heavy cavalry wheeled round their own
infantry, and attacked the French charging columns in flank, at the
moment when they were checked by the fire of the musketry. The results
were decisive. The French columns were broken with great slaughter, and
two eagles, with more than 2000 men, were made prisoners. The latter
were sent instantly off for Brussels.
[Sidenote: PICTON--PONSONBY.]
The British cavalry, however, followed their success too far. They got
involved amongst the French infantry and some hostile cavalry which were
detached to support them, and were obliged to retire with considerable
loss. In this part of the action, the gallant General Picton, so
distinguished for enterprise and bravery, met his death, as did General
Ponsonby, who commanded the cavalry.
About this period the French made themselves masters of the farm of La
Haye Sainte, cutting to pieces about two hundred Hanoverian
sharpshooters, by whom it was most gallantly defended. The French
retained this post for some time, till they were at last driven out of
it by shells.
Shortly after this event, the scene of conflict again shifted to the
right, where a general attack of French cavalry was made on the squares,
chiefly towards the centre of the British right, or between that and the
causeway. They came up with the most dauntless resolution, in despite of
the continued fire of thirty pieces of artillery, placed in front of the
line, and compelled the artillerymen, by whom they were served, to
retreat within the squares. The enemy had no means, however, to secure
the guns, or even to spike them, and at every favourable moment the
British artillerymen sallied from their place of refuge, again manned
their pieces, and fired on the assailants--a manœuvre which seems
peculiar to the British service.[144] The cuirassiers, however,
continued their dreadful onset, and rode up to the squares in the full
confidence, apparently, of sweeping them before the impetuosity of their
charge. Their onset and reception was like a furious ocean pouring
itself against a chain of insulated rocks. The British squares stood
unmoved, and never gave fire until the cavalry were within ten yards,
when men rolled one way, horses galloped another, and the cuirassiers
were in every instance driven back.
The French authors have pretended that squares were broken, and colours
taken; but this assertion, upon the united testimony of every British
officer present, is a positive untruth. This was not, however, the fault
of the cuirassiers, who displayed an almost frantic valour. They rallied
again and again, and returned to the onset, till the British could
recognise even the faces of individuals among their enemies. Some rode
close up to the bayonets, fired their pistols, and cut with their swords
with reckless and useless valour. Some stood at gaze, and were destroyed
by the musketry and artillery. Some squadrons, passing through the
intervals of the first line, charged the squares of Belgians posted
there, with as little success. At length the cuirassiers suffered so
severely on every hand, that they were compelled to abandon the attempt,
which they had made with such intrepid and desperate courage. In this
unheard-of struggle, the greater part of the French heavy cavalry were
absolutely destroyed. Buonaparte hints at it in his bulletin as an
attempt made without orders, and continued only by the desperate courage
of the soldiers and their officers.[145] It is certain that, in the
destruction of this noble body of cuirassiers, he lost the corps which
might have been most effectual in covering his retreat. After the broken
remains of this fine cavalry were drawn off, the French confined
themselves for a time to a heavy cannonade, from which the British
sheltered themselves in part by lying down on the ground, while the
enemy prepared for an attack on another quarter, and to be conducted in
a different manner.
It was now about six o'clock, and during this long succession of the
most furious attacks, the French had gained no success save occupying
for a time the wood around Hougomont, from which they had been expelled,
and the farm house of La Haye Sainte, which had been also recovered. The
British, on the other hand, had suffered very severely, but had not lost
one inch of ground, save the two posts, now regained. Ten thousand men
were, however, killed and wounded; some of the foreign regiments had
given way, though others had shown the most desperate valour. And the
ranks were thinned both by the actual fugitives, and by the absence of
individuals, who left the bloody field for the purpose of carrying off
the wounded, and some of whom might naturally be in no hurry to return
to so fatal a scene.
[Sidenote: WATERLOO.]
But the French, besides losing about 15,000 men, together with a column
of prisoners more than 2000 in number, began now to be disturbed by the
operations of the Prussians on their right flank; and the secret of the
Duke of Wellington was disclosing itself by its consequences. Blucher,
faithful to his engagement, had, early in the morning, put in motion
Bulow's division, which had not been engaged at Ligny, to communicate
with the English army, and operate a diversion on the right flank and
rear of the French. But although there were only about twelve or
fourteen miles between Wavre and the field of Waterloo, yet the march
was, by unavoidable circumstances, much delayed. The rugged face of the
country, together with the state of the roads, so often referred to,
offered the most serious obstacles to the progress of the Prussians,
especially as they moved with an unusually large train of artillery. A
fire, also, which broke out in Wavre, on the morning of the 18th,
prevented Bulow's corps from marching through that town, and obliged
them to pursue a circuitous and inconvenient route. After traversing,
with great difficulty, the cross-roads by Chapelle Lambert, Bulow, with
the 4th Prussian corps, who had been expected by the Duke of Wellington
about eleven o'clock, announced his arrival by a distant fire, about
half-past four. The first Prussian corps, following the same route with
Bulow, was yet later in coming up. The second division made a lateral
movement in the same direction as the fourth and first, but by the
hamlet of Ohain, nearer to the English flank. The Emperor instantly
opposed to Bulow, who appeared long before the others, the 6th French
corps, which he had kept in reserve for that service; and, as only the
advanced guard was come up, they succeeded in keeping the Prussians in
check for the moment. The first and second Prussian corps appeared on
the field still later than the fourth. The third corps had put
themselves in motion to follow in the same direction, when they were
furiously attacked by the French under Maréchal Grouchy, who, as already
stated, was detached to engage the attention of Blucher, whose whole
force he believed he had before him.
Instead of being surprised, as an ordinary general might have been, with
this attack upon his rear, Blucher contented himself with sending back
orders to Thielman, who commanded the third corps, to defend himself as
well as he could upon the line of the Dyle. In the meantime, without
weakening the army under his own command, by detaching any part of it to
support Thielman, the veteran rather hastened than suspended his march
towards the field of battle, where he was aware that the war was likely
to be decided in a manner so complete, as would leave victory or defeat
on every other point a matter of subordinate consideration.
At half-past six, or thereabouts, the second grand division of the
Prussian army began to enter into communication with the British left,
by the village of Ohain, while Bulow pressed forward from Chapelle
Lambert on the French right and rear, by a hollow, or valley, called
Frischemont. It became now evident that the Prussians were to enter
seriously into the battle, and with great force. Napoleon had still the
means of opposing them, and of achieving a retreat, at the certainty,
however, of being attacked upon the ensuing day by the combined armies
of Britain and Prussia. His celebrated Guard had not yet taken any part
in the conflict, and would now have been capable of affording him
protection after a battle which, hitherto, he had fought at
disadvantage, but without being defeated. But the circumstances by which
he was surrounded must have pressed on his mind at once. He had no
succours to look for; a reunion with Grouchy was the only resource which
could strengthen his forces; the Russians were advancing upon the Rhine
with forced marches; the Republicans at Paris were agitating schemes
against his authority. It seemed as if all must be decided on that day,
and on that field. Surrounded by these ill-omened circumstances, a
desperate effort for victory, ere the Prussians could act effectually,
might perhaps yet drive the English from their position; and he
determined to venture on this daring experiment.
About seven o'clock, Napoleon's Guard were formed in two columns, under
his own eye, near the bottom of the declivity of La Belle Alliance. They
were put under command of the dauntless Ney. Buonaparte told the
soldiers, and, indeed, imposed the same fiction on their commander, that
the Prussians whom they saw on the right were retreating before Grouchy.
Perhaps he might himself believe that this was true. The Guard answered,
for the last time, with shouts of _Vive l'Empereur_, and moved
resolutely forward, having, for their support, four battalions of the
Old Guard in reserve, who stood prepared to protect the advance of their
comrades. A gradual change had taken place in the English line of
battle, in consequence of the repeated repulse of the French. Advancing
by slow degrees, the right, which at the beginning of the conflict,
presented a segment of a convex circle, now resembled one that was
concave, the extreme right, which had been thrown back, being now rather
brought forward, so that their fire both of artillery and infantry fell
upon the flank of the French, who had also to sustain that which was
poured on their front from the heights. The British were arranged in a
line of four men deep, to meet the advancing columns of the French
Guard, and poured upon them a storm of musketry which never ceased an
instant. The soldiers fired independently, as it is called; each man
loading and discharging his piece as fast as he could. At length the
British moved forward, as if to close round the heads of the columns,
and at the same time continued to pour their shot upon the enemy's
flanks. The French gallantly attempted to deploy, for the purpose of
returning the discharge; but in their effort to do so, under so dreadful
a fire, they stopt, staggered, became disordered, were blended into one
mass, and at length gave way, retiring, or rather flying, in the utmost
confusion. This was the last effort of the enemy, and Napoleon gave
orders for the retreat; to protect which, he had now no troops left,
save the last four battalions of the Old Guard, which had been stationed
in the rear of the attacking columns. These threw themselves into
squares, and stood firm. But at this moment the Duke of Wellington
commanded the whole British line to advance, so that whatever the
bravery and skill of these gallant veterans, they also were thrown into
disorder, and swept away in the general rout, in spite of the efforts of
Ney, who, having had his horse killed, fought sword in hand, and on
foot, in the front of the battle, till the very last.[146] That
maréchal, whose military virtues at least cannot be challenged, bore
personal evidence against two circumstances, industriously circulated by
the friends of Napoleon. One of these fictions occurs in his own
bulletin, which charges the loss of the battle to a panic fear, brought
about by the treachery of some unknown persons, who raised the cry of
"_Sauve qui peut_."[147] Another figment, greedily credited at Paris,
bore, that the four battalions of Old Guard, the last who maintained the
semblance of order, answered a summons to surrender, by the magnanimous
reply, "The Guard can die, but cannot yield." And one edition of the
story adds, that thereupon the battalions made a half wheel inwards, and
discharged their muskets into each other's bosoms, to save themselves
from dying by the hands of the English. Neither the original reply, nor
the pretended self-sacrifice of the Guard, have the slightest
foundation. Cambrone, in whose mouth the speech was placed, gave up his
sword, and remained prisoner; and the military conduct of the French
Guard is better eulogised by the undisputed truth, that they fought to
extremity, with the most unyielding constancy, than by imputing to them
an act of regimental suicide upon the lost field of battle.[148] Every
attribute of brave men they have a just right to claim. It is no
compliment to ascribe to them that of madmen. Whether the words were
used by Cambrone or no, the Guard well deserved to have them inscribed
on their monument.
Whilst this decisive movement took place, Bulow, who had concentrated
his troops, and was at length qualified to act in force, carried the
village of Planchenois in the French rear, and was now firing so close
on their right wing, that the cannonade annoyed the British who were in
pursuit, and was suspended in consequence. Moving in oblique lines, the
British and Prussian armies came into contact with each other on the
heights so lately occupied by the French, and celebrated the victory
with loud shouts of mutual congratulation.
The French army was now in total and inextricable confusion and rout;
and when the victorious generals met at the farm-house of La Belle
Alliance, it was agreed that the Prussians, who were fresh in
comparison, should follow up the chase, a duty for which the British,
exhausted by the fatigues of a battle of eight hours, were totally
inadequate.
During the whole action, Napoleon maintained the utmost serenity. He
remained on the heights of La Belle Alliance, keeping pretty near the
centre, from which he had a full view of the field, which does not
exceed a mile and a half in length. He expressed no solicitude on the
fate of the battle for a long time, noticed the behaviour of particular
regiments, and praised the English several times, always, however,
talking of them as an assured prey. When forming his guard for the last
fatal effort, he descended near them, half down the causeway from La
Belle Alliance, to bestow upon them what proved his parting exhortation.
He watched intently their progress with a spyglass, and refused to
listen to one or two aides-de-camp, who at that moment came from the
right to inform him of the appearance of the Prussians. At length, on
seeing the attacking columns stagger and become confused, his
countenance, said our informer, became pale as that of a corpse, and
muttering to himself, "They are mingled together," he said to his
attendants, "All is lost for the present," and rode off the field; not
stopping or taking refreshment till he reached Charleroi, where he
paused for a moment in a meadow, and occupied a tent which had been
pitched for his accommodation.[149]
Meantime, the pursuit of his discomfited army was followed up by
Blucher with the most determined perseverance. He accelerated the march
of the Prussian advanced guard, and despatched every man and horse of
his cavalry upon the pursuit of the fugitive French. At Genappe they
attempted something like defence, by barricading the bridge and streets;
but the Prussians forced them in a moment, and although the French were
sufficiently numerous for resistance, their disorder was so
irremediable, and their moral courage was so absolutely quelled for the
moment, that in many cases they were slaughtered like sheep. They were
driven from bivouac to bivouac, without exhibiting even the shadow of
their usual courage. One hundred and fifty guns were left in the hands
of the English, and a like number taken by the Prussians in course of
the pursuit. The latter obtained possession also of all Napoleon's
baggage, and of his carriage, where, amongst many articles of curiosity,
was found a proclamation intended to be made public at Brussels the next
day.
[Sidenote: LOSSES ON BOTH SIDES.]
The loss on the British side during this dreadful battle was, as the
Duke of Wellington, no user of exaggerated expressions, truly termed it,
_immense_. One hundred officers slain, five hundred wounded, many of
them to death, fifteen thousand men killed and wounded, (independent of
the Prussian loss at Wavre,) threw half Britain into mourning. Many
officers of distinction fell. It required all the glory, and all the
solid advantages, of this immortal day, to reconcile the mind to the
high price at which it was purchased. The commander-in-chief, compelled
to be on every point of danger, was repeatedly in the greatest jeopardy.
Only the Duke himself, and one gentleman, of his numerous staff, escaped
unwounded in horse and person.
It would be difficult to form a guess at the extent of the French loss.
Besides those who fell in the battle and flight, great numbers deserted.
We do not believe, that of 75,000 men, the half were ever again
collected under arms.[150]
Having finished our account of this memorable action, we are led to
notice the communications and criticisms of Napoleon himself on the
subject, partly as illustrative of the narrative, but much more as
indicating his own character.
The account of the battle of Waterloo, dictated by Napoleon to Gourgaud,
so severely exposed by General Grouchy[151] as a mere military romance,
full of gratuitous suppositions, misrepresentations, and absolute
falsehoods, accuses the subordinate generals who fought under Buonaparte
of having greatly degenerated from their original character. Ney and
Grouchy are particularly aimed at; the former by name, the latter by
obvious implication. It is said they had lost that energy and
enterprising genius by which they had formerly been distinguished, and
to which France owed her triumphs. They had become timorous and
circumspect in all their operations; and although their personal bravery
remains, their greatest object was to compromise themselves as little as
possible. This general remark, intended, of course, to pave the way for
transferring from the Emperor to his lieutenants the blame of the
miscarriage of the campaign, is both unjust and ungrateful. Had they
lost energy, who struggled to the very last in the field of Waterloo,
long after the Emperor had left the field? Was Grouchy undecided in his
operations, who brought his own division safe to Paris, in spite of all
the obstacles opposed to him by a victorious army, three times the
amount of his own in numbers? Both these officers had given up, for the
sake of Napoleon, the rank and appointments which they might have
peacefully borne under the Bourbons. Did it indicate the reluctance to
commit themselves, with which they are charged, that they ventured on
the decided step of joining his desperate career, not only abandoning
all regard to their interest and their safety, but compromising their
character as men of loyalty in the face of all Europe, and exposing
themselves to certain death, if the Bourbons should be successful? Those
who fight with the cord around their neck, which was decidedly the case
with Grouchy and Ney, must have headed the forlorn hope; and is it
consistent with human nature, in such circumstances, to believe that
they, whose fortune and safety depended on the victory, personally brave
as they are admitted to be, should have loitered in the rear, when their
fate was in the balance?
He who was unjust to his own followers, can scarce be expected to be
candid towards an enemy. The Duke of Wellington has, upon all occasions,
been willing to render the military character of Napoleon that justice
which a generous mind is scrupulously accurate in dispensing to an
adversary, and has readily admitted that the conduct of Buonaparte and
his army on this memorable occasion, was fully adequate to the support
of their high reputation. It may be said that the victor can afford to
bestow praise on the vanquished, but that it requires a superior degree
of candour in the vanquished to do justice to the conqueror. Napoleon,
at any rate, does not seem to have attained, in this particular, to the
pitch of a great or exalted mind, since both he and the various persons
whom he employed as the means of circulating his statements, concur in a
very futile attempt to excuse the defeat at Waterloo, by a set of
apologies founded in a great degree upon misrepresentation. The reader
will find these scientifically discussed in a valuable article in the
Appendix.[152] But it may be necessary, at the risk of some repetition,
to take some notice of them here in a popular form. The allegations,
which are designed to prove the incapacity of the British general, and
to show that the battle of Waterloo was only lost by a combination of
extraordinary fatalities, may be considered in their order.
The first, and most frequently repeated, is the charge, that the Duke of
Wellington, on the 15th, was surprised in his cantonments, and could not
collect his army fast enough at Quatre-bras. In this his Grace would
have been doubtless highly censurable, if Napoleon had, by express
information, or any distinct movement indicative of his purpose, shown
upon which point he meant to advance. But the chivalrous practice of
fixing a field of combat has been long out of date; and Napoleon, beyond
all generals, possessed the art of masking his own movements, and
misleading his enemy concerning the actual point on which he meditated
an attack. The Duke and Prince Blucher were, therefore, obliged to
provide for the concentration of their forces upon different points,
according as Buonaparte's selection should be manifested; and in order
to be ready to assemble their forces upon any one position, they must,
by spreading their cantonments, in some degree delay the movement upon
all. The Duke could not stir from Brussels, or concentrate his forces,
until he had certain information of those of the enemy; and it is said
that a French statesman, who had promised to send him a copy of the plan
of Buonaparte's campaign, contrived, by a trick of policy, to evade
keeping his word.[153] We do not mean to deny the talent and activity
displayed by Buonaparte, who, if he could have brought forward his whole
army upon the evening of the 15th of June, might probably have succeeded
in preventing the meditated junction of Blucher and Wellington. But the
celebrated prayer for annihilation of time and space would be as little
reasonable in the mouth of a general as of a lover, and, fettered by the
limitations against which that modest petition is directed, Buonaparte
failed in bringing forward in due time a sufficient body of forces to
carry all before him at Quatre-bras; while, on the other hand, the Duke
of Wellington, from the same obstacles of time and space, could not
assemble a force sufficient to drive Ney before him, and enable him to
advance to the support of Blucher during the action of Ligny.[154]
The choice of the field of Waterloo is also charged against the Duke of
Wellington as an act of weak judgment; because, although possessed of
all the requisites for maintaining battle or pursuing victory, and,
above all, of the facilities for communicating with the Prussian army,
it had not, according to the imperial critic, the means of affording
security in case of a retreat, since there was only one communication to
the rear--that by the causeway of Brussels, the rest of the position
being screened by the forest of Soignies, in front of which the British
army was formed, and through which, it is assumed, retreat was
impossible.
Taking the principle of this criticism as accurate, it may be answered,
that a general would never halt or fight at all, if he were to refuse
combat on every other save a field of battle which possessed all the
various excellences which may be predicated of one in theory. The
commander must consider whether the ground suits his present exigencies,
without looking at other circumstances which may be less pressing at the
time. Generals have been known to choose by preference the ground from
which there could be no retiring; like invaders who burn their ships, as
a pledge that they will follow their enterprise to the last. And
although provision for a safe retreat is certainly in most cases a
desirable circumstance, yet it has been dispensed with by good generals,
and by none more frequently than by Napoleon himself. Was not the battle
of Essling fought without any possible mode of retreat save the frail
bridges over the Danube? Was not that of Wagram debated under similar
circumstances? And, to complete the whole, did not Napoleon, while
censuring the Duke of Wellington for fighting in front of a forest,
himself enter upon conflict with a defile in his rear, formed by the
narrow streets and narrower bridge of Genappe, by which alone, if
defeated, he could cross the Dyle?--It might, therefore, be presumed,
that if the Duke of Wellington chose a position from which retreat was
difficult, he must have considered the necessity of retreat as unlikely,
and reckoned with confidence on being able to make good his stand until
the Prussians should come up to join him.
Even this does not exhaust the question; for the English
general-officers unite in considering the forest of Soignies as a very
advantageous feature in the field; and, far from apprehending the least
inconvenience from its existence, the Duke of Wellington regarded it as
affording a position, which, if his first and second line had been
unhappily forced, he might have nevertheless made good against the whole
French army. The hamlet of Mont Saint Jean, in front, affords an
excellent key to the position of an army compelled to occupy the forest.
The wood itself is every where passable for men and horses, the trees
being tall, and without either low boughs or underwood; and, singular as
the discrepancy between the opinions of distinguished soldiers may seem,
we have never met an English officer who did not look on the forest of
Soignies as affording an admirable position for making a final stand. In
support of their opinion they refer to the defence of the Bois de Bossu,
near Quatre-bras, against the reiterated attacks of Maréchal Ney. This
impeachment of the Duke of Wellington may therefore be set aside, as
inconsistent with the principles of British warfare. All that can be
added is, that there are cases in which national habits and manners may
render a position advantageous to soldiers of one country, which is
perilous or destructive to those of another.
The next subject of invidious criticism, is of a nature so singular,
that, did it not originate with a great man, in peculiar circumstances
of adversity, it might be almost termed ludicrous. Napoleon expresses
himself as dissatisfied, because he was defeated in the common and
vulgar proceeding of downright fighting, and by no special manœuvres or
peculiar display of military art on the part of the victor. But if it
can afford any consolation to those who cherish his fame, it is easy to
show that Napoleon fell a victim to a scheme of tactics early conceived,
and persevered in under circumstances which, in the case of ordinary
men, would have occasioned its being abandoned; resumed after events
which seemed so adverse, that nothing save dauntless courage and
unlimited confidence could have enabled the chiefs to proceed in their
purpose; and carried into execution, without Napoleon's being able to
penetrate the purpose of the allied generals, until it was impossible to
prevent the annihilation of his army;--that he fell, in short, by a
grand plan of strategie, worthy of being compared to that of any of his
own admirable campaigns.
To prove what we have said, it is only necessary to remark, that the
natural bases and points of retreat of the Prussian and English armies
were different; the former being directed on Maestricht, the other on
Antwerp, where each expected their reinforcements. Regardless of this,
and with full confidence in each other, the Prince Maréchal Blucher, and
the Duke of Wellington, agreed to act in conjunction against the French
army. The union of their forces, for which both were prepared, was
destined to have taken place at Ligny, where the duke designed to have
supported the Prussians, and where Blucher hazarded an action in
expectation of his ally's assistance. The active movements of Napoleon,
and the impossibility of the English force being sufficiently
concentrated at Quatre-bras to afford the means of overpowering Ney and
the force in their front, prevented their making a lateral march to
relieve Blucher at that critical period. Otherwise, the parts of the
bloody drama, as afterwards acted, would have been reversed, and the
British army would have moved to support the Prussians at Ligny, as the
Prussians came to the aid of the British at Waterloo.
Napoleon had the merit of disconcerting this plan for the time; but he
did not, and could not, discover that the allied generals retained,
after the loss of the battle of Ligny, the same purpose which they had
adopted on the commencement of the campaign. He imagined, as did all
around him, that Blucher must retreat on Namur, or in such a direction
as would effectually accomplish a separation betwixt him and the
English, as it was natural to think a defeated army should approach
towards its own resources, instead of attempting further offensive
operations. At all events, Napoleon was in this respect so much
mistaken, as to believe that if Blucher did retire on the same line with
the English, the means which the Prussian retained for co-operating with
his allies were so limited, and (perhaps he might think) the spirit of
the general so subdued, that Maréchal Grouchy, with 32,000 men, would be
sufficient to keep the whole Prussian force in check. The maréchal was
accordingly, as we have seen, despatched much too late, without any
other instructions than to follow and engage the attention of the
Prussians. Misled by the demonstration of Blucher, he at first took the
road to Namur, and thus, without any fault on his part, lost time, which
was inconceivably precious.
Buonaparte's subsequent accounts of this action blame Maréchal Grouchy
for not discovering Blucher's real direction, which he had no means of
ascertaining, and for not obeying orders which were never given to him,
and which could not be given, because Napoleon was as ignorant as the
maréchal, that Blucher had formed the determination, at all events, to
unite himself with Wellington. This purpose of acting in co-operation,
formed and persevered in, was to the French Emperor the riddle of the
Sphinx, and he was destroyed because he could not discover it. Indeed,
he ridiculed even the idea of such an event. One of his officers,
according to Baron Muffling, having hinted at the mere possibility of a
junction between the Prussian army and that of Wellington, he smiled
contemptuously at the thought. "The Prussian army," he said, "is
defeated--It cannot rally for three days--I have 75,000 men, the English
only 50,000. The town of Brussels awaits me with open arms. The English
Opposition waits but for my success to raise their heads. Then adieu
subsidies, and farewell coalition!" In like manner, Napoleon frankly
acknowledged, while on board the Northumberland, that he had no idea
that the Duke of Wellington meant to fight, and therefore omitted to
reconnoitre the ground with sufficient accuracy. It is well known, that
when he observed them still in their position on the morning of the
18th, he exclaimed, "I have them, then, these English!"
It was half past eleven, just about the time that the battle of Waterloo
commenced, that Grouchy, as already hinted, overtook the rear of the
Prussians. A strong force, appearing to be the whole of the Prussian
army, lay before the French maréchal, who, from the character of the
ground, had no means of ascertaining their numbers, or of discovering
the fact, that three divisions of Blucher's army were already on the
march to their right, through the passes of Saint Lambert; and that it
was only Thielman's division which remained upon the Dyle. Still less
could he know, what could only be known to the duke and Blucher, that
the English were determined to give battle in the position at Waterloo.
He heard, indeed, a heavy cannonade in that direction, but that might
have proceeded from an attack on the British rear-guard, the duke being,
in the general opinion of the French army, in full retreat upon Antwerp.
At any rate, the maréchal's orders were to attack the enemy which he
found before him. He could not but remember, that Ney had been
reprimanded for detaching a part of his force on the 16th, in
consequence of a distant cannonade; and he was naturally desirous to
avoid censure for the self-same cause. Even if Napoleon was seriously
engaged with the English, it seemed the business of Grouchy to occupy
the large force which he observed at Wavre, and disposed along the Dyle,
to prevent their attempting any thing against Napoleon, if, contrary to
probability, the Emperor should be engaged in a general battle. Lastly,
as Grouchy was to form his resolution under the idea of having the whole
Prussian force before him, which was estimated at 80,000 men, it would
have been impossible for him to detach from an army of 32,000 any
considerable body, to the assistance of Napoleon; and in attacking with
such inadequate numbers, he showed his devotion, at the risk of being
totally destroyed.
He engaged, however, in battle without any hesitation, and attacked the
line of the Prussians along the Dyle on every accessible point; to wit,
at Wavre, at the mill of Bielge, and at the village of Limale. The
points of attack were desperately defended by the Prussians under
Thielman, so that Grouchy could only occupy that part of Wavre which was
on his own side of the Dyle. About four o'clock, and consequently when
the fate of the battle of Waterloo was nearly decided, Grouchy received
from Maréchal Soult the only order which reached him during the day,
requiring him to manœuvre so as to unite himself to the right flank of
the Emperor, but at the same time acquainting him with the (false)
intelligence, that the battle was gained upon the line of Waterloo. A
postscript informed Grouchy, that Bulow was appearing upon Napoleon's
right flank, and that if he could come up with speed, he would take the
Prussian _flagrante delicto_.[155]
These orders were quite intelligible. But two things were necessary to
their being carried into execution. First, that Grouchy should get clear
of Thielman, the enemy with whom he was closely engaged, and who would
not fail to pursue the French maréchal if he retreated or moved to his
left flank, without having repulsed him. Secondly, it was indispensable
he should pass the small river Dyle, defended by Thielman's division,
since the road leading through the woods of Chapelle Lambert, was that
by which he could best execute his march towards Waterloo. Grouchy
redoubled his efforts to force the Dyle, but he could not succeed till
night, and then but partially; for the Prussians continued to hold the
mill of Bielge, and remained in force within a cannon-shot of Grouchy's
position.
In the morning, the maréchal, anxious to learn with certainty the fate
of Napoleon, though believing, according to Soult's letter, that he was
victorious, sent out reconnoitring parties. When he learned the truth,
he commenced a retreat, which he conducted with such talent, that though
closely pursued by the Prussians, then in all the animation of triumph,
and though sustaining considerable loss, he was enabled to bring his
corps unbroken under the walls of Paris. Weighing all these
circumstances, it appears that Buonaparte had no right to count upon the
assistance of Grouchy, far less to throw censure on that general for not
coming to his assistance, since he scrupulously obeyed the orders he
received; and when at four o'clock, that of attacking and pressing the
Prussian rear was qualified by the directions of Soult, to close up to
Buonaparte's right wing, Grouchy was engaged in an obstinate engagement
with Thielman, whom he must necessarily defeat before he could cross the
Dyle, to accomplish the junction proposed.
The movement of Blucher, therefore, was a masterpiece of courage and
judgment, since the prince maréchal left one division of his army to
maintain a doubtful onset against Grouchy, and involved himself with the
other three in that flank movement through the woods of Saint Lambert,
by which he paid with interest the debt which he owed Napoleon for a
similar movement, previous to the affairs of Champ-Aubert and
Montmirail, in 1814.
The same system which placed Blucher in motion, required that the Duke
of Wellington should maintain his position, by confining himself to a
strictly defensive contest. The British, as they were to keep their
place at all risks, so on no temptation of partial success were they to
be induced to advance. Every step which they might have driven the
French backward, before the coming up of the Prussians, would have been
a disadvantage as far as it went, since the object was not to beat the
enemy by the efforts of the English only, which, in the state of the two
armies, might only have amounted to a repulse, but to detain them in the
position of La Belle Alliance, until the army of Blucher should come up.
When Napoleon, therefore, objects to the conduct of the Duke of
Wellington on the 18th, that he did not manœuvre in the time of action,
he objects to the very circumstance which rendered the victory of the
day so decisive. He was himself decoyed into, and detained in a
position, until his destruction was rendered inevitable.
It has been a favourite assertion with almost all the French, and some
English writers, that the English were on the point of being defeated,
when the Prussian force came up. The contrary is the truth. The French
had attacked, and the British had resisted, from past eleven until near
seven o'clock; and though the battle was most bloody, the former had
gained no advantage save at the wood of Hougomont, and the farm-house of
La Haye Sainte; both they gained, but speedily lost. Baron Muffling has
given the most explicit testimony, "that the battle could have afforded
no favourable result to the enemy, even if the Prussians had never come
up." He was an eyewitness, and an unquestionable judge, and willing,
doubtless, to carry the immediate glory acquired by his countrymen on
this memorable occasion, and in which he had a large personal stake, as
high as truth and honour will permit. At the time when Napoleon made the
last effort, Bulow's troops were indeed upon the field, but had not made
any physical impression by their weapons, or excited any moral dread by
their appearance. Napoleon announced to all his Guard, whom he collected
and formed for that final exertion, that the Prussians whom they saw
were closely pursued by the French of Grouchy's army. He himself,
perhaps, had that persuasion; for the fire of Grouchy's artillery,
supposed to be a league and a half, but in reality nearly three leagues
distant, was distinctly heard; and some one of Napoleon's suite saw the
smoke from the heights above Wavre. "The battle," he said, "is won; we
must force the English position, and throw them upon the
defiles.--_Allons! La Garde en avant!_"[156] Accordingly, they then made
the attack in the evening, when they were totally repulsed, and chased
back upon, and beyond, their own position. Thus, before the Prussians
came into serious action, Napoleon had done his utmost, and had not a
corps remaining in order, excepting four battalions of the Old Guard. It
cannot be therefore said, that our allies afforded the British army
protection from any enemy that was totally disorganised; but that for
which the Prussians do deserve the gratitude of Britain and of Europe,
is the generous and courageous confidence with which they marched at so
many risks to assist in the action, and the activity and zeal with which
they completed the victory. It is universally acknowledged, that the
British army, exhausted by so long a conflict, could not have availed
themselves of the disorder of their enemy at its conclusion; while, on
the contrary, nothing could exceed the dexterity and rapidity with which
the Prussians conducted the pursuit. The laurels of Waterloo must be
divided--the British won the battle, the Prussians achieved and rendered
available the victory.[157]
FOOTNOTES:
[141] Montholon, tom. ii., p. 283.
[142] "My intentions were, to attack and to destroy the English. This, I
knew, would produce an immediate change of ministry. The indignation
against them would have excited such a popular commotion, that they
would have been turned out; and peace would have been the
result."--NAPOLEON, _Voice_, &c., vol. i., p. 176.
[143] "All his arrangements having been effected early in the evening of
the 17th, the Duke of Wellington rode across the country to Blucher, to
inform him personally that he had thus far effected the plan agreed on
at Bry, and express his hope to be supported on the morrow by two
Prussian divisions. The veteran replied, that he would leave a single
corps to hold Grouchy at bay as well as they could, and march himself
with the rest of his army upon Waterloo; and Wellington immediately
returned to his post. The fact of the duke and Blucher having met
between the battles of Ligny and Waterloo, is well known to many of the
superior officers then in the Netherlands; but the writer of this
compendium has never happened to see it mentioned in print. The horse
that carried the Duke of Wellington through this long night's journey,
so important to the decisive battle of the 18th, remained till
lately--if does not still remain--a free pensioner in the best paddock
of Strathfield-saye."--_Hist. of Nap. Buonaparte_, Family Library, vol.
ii., p. 313.
[144] Baron Muffling, speaking of this peculiarity, says--"The English
artillery have a rule not to remove their guns, when attacked by cavalry
in a defensive position. The field pieces are worked till the last
moment, and the men then throw themselves into the nearest square,
bearing off the implements they use for serving the guns. If the attack
is repulsed, the artillerymen hurry back to their pieces, to fire on the
retreating enemy. This is an extremely laudable practice, if the
infantry be properly arranged to correspond with it."--S.
[145] "By a movement of impatience, which has often been so fatal to us,
the cavalry of reserve having perceived a retrograde movement made by
the English to shelter themselves from our batteries, crowned the
heights of Mount St. Jean, and charged the infantry. This movement,
which, made in time, and supported by the reserves, must have decided
the day, made in an isolated manner, and before affairs on the right
were terminated, became fatal."--_Bulletin, Moniteur_, June 21.
[146] "I had my horse killed and fell under it. The brave men who will
return from this terrible battle, will, I hope, do me the justice to
say, that they saw me on foot with sword in hand during the whole of the
evening; and that I only quitted the scene of carnage among the last,
and at the moment when retreat could no longer be prevented."--_Ney's
Letter to the Duke of Otranto._
[147] "Cries of _all is lost, the Guard is driven back_, were heard on
every side. The soldiers pretend even that on many points ill-disposed
persons cried out _sauve qui peut_. However this may be, a complete
panic at once spread itself throughout the whole field. The Old Guard
was infected, and was itself hurried along. In an instant, the whole
army was nothing but a mass of confusion; all the soldiers of all arms
were mixed _pel-mel_, and it was utterly impossible to rally a single
corps."--_Bulletin, Moniteur_, June 21. "A retrograde movement was
declared, and the army formed nothing but a confused mass. There was
not, however, a total rout, nor the cry of _sauve qui peut_, as has been
calumniously stated in the official bulletin."--_Ney to the Duke of
Otranto._
[148] Fleury de Chamboullon, tom. ii., p. 187.
[149] Our informant on these points, was Lacoste, a Flemish peasant, who
was compelled to act as Buonaparte's guide, remained with him during the
whole action, and accompanied him to Charleroi. He seemed a shrewd
sensible man in his way, and told his story with the utmost simplicity.
The author saw him, and heard his narrative, very shortly after the
action.--S.
[150] See Captain Pringle's Remarks on the Campaign of 1815, APPENDIX,
No. I.
[151] "Observations sur 'Le Campagne de 1815,' par Le Général Grouchy,
1819."
[152] See an account of the action of Waterloo, equally intelligible and
scientific, drawn up by Captain Pringle of the artillery, which will
amply supply the deficiencies of our narrative--APPENDIX, No. I.
[153] This was Fouché, who seems to have been engaged in secret
correspondence with all and sundry of the belligerent powers, while he
was minister of police under Napoleon. In his Memoirs [vol. ii., p. 279]
he is made to boast that he contrived to keep his word to the Duke of
Wellington, by sending the plan of Buonaparte's campaign by a female, a
Flemish postmistress, whom he laid wait for on the frontier, and caused
to be arrested. Thus he
"kept the word of promise to the ear,
And broke it to the sense."
This story, we have some reason to believe, is true. One of the marvels
of our times is how Fouché, after having been the mainspring of such a
complication of plots and counterplots, revolutionary and
counter-revolutionary intrigues, contrived after all _to die in his
bed!_--S.--On the second restoration, Louis XVIII. saw himself reduced
to the sad necessity of admitting Fouché to his counsels. But the
clamours raised against his profligacy and treachery convincing him that
it would be dangerous to continue in France, he resigned in September,
and was sent ambassador to Dresden. In January, 1816, he was denounced
as a regicide by both Chambers, and condemned to death, in case he
re-entered the French territory. He died at Trieste, December 26, 1820,
in his sixty-seventh year, leaving behind him an immense fortune.
[154] Some people have been silly enough to consider the Duke of
Wellington's being surprised as a thing indisputable, because the news
of the French advance first reached him in a ball-room. It must be
supposed that these good men's idea of war is, that a general should sit
sentinel with his truncheon in his hand, like a statue in the midst of a
city market-place, until the tidings come which call him to the field.
"Free is his heart who for his country fights;
He on the eve of battle may resign
Himself to social pleasure--sweetest then,
When danger to the soldier's soul endears
The human joy that never may return."
HOME'S _Douglas_.--S.
"The fiction of the Duke of Wellington having been _surprised_ on this
great occasion, has maintained its place in almost all narratives of the
war for fifteen years. The duke's magnanimous silence under such
treatment, for so long a period, will be appreciated by posterity. The
facts of the case are now given from the most unquestionable authority.
At half-past one o'clock, P.M., of Thursday the 15th, a Prussian officer
of high rank arrived at Wellington's headquarters in Brussels, with the
intelligence of Napoleon's decisive operations. By two o'clock, orders
were despatched to all the cantonments of the duke's army, for the
divisions to break up and concentrate on the left of Quatre-bras his
grace's design being that his whole force should be assembled there by
eleven o'clock on the next night, Friday the 16th. It was at first
intended, to put off a ball announced for the evening of Thursday, at
the Duchess of Richmond's hotel in Brussels; but on reflection it seemed
highly important that the population of that city should be kept, as far
as possible, in ignorance as to the course of events, and the Duke of
Wellington desired that the ball should proceed accordingly; nay, the
general officers received his commands to appear in the ball room, each
taking care to quit the apartment as quietly as possible at ten o'clock,
and proceed to join his respective division _en route_. This arrangement
was carried into strict execution. The duke himself retired at twelve
o'clock, and left Brussels at six o'clock next morning for
Quatre-bras."--_Hist. of Nap. Buonaparte_, Family Library, vol. ii., p.
309.
[155] Savary, tom. iv., p. 75.
[156] He gave the same explanation when on board of the Northumberland.
General Gourgaud had inaccurately stated that the Emperor had mistaken
the corps of Bulow for that of Grouchy. Napoleon explained, that this
was not the case, but that he had opposed a sufficient force to those
Prussians whom he saw in the field, and concluded that Grouchy was
closing up on their flank and rear.--S.
[157] Baron Muffling's account of the British army must interest our
readers:--"There is not, perhaps, in all Europe, an army superior to the
English in the actual field of battle. That is to say, an army in which
military instruction is entirely directed to that point, as its
exclusive object. The English soldier is strongly formed and well fed,
and nature has endowed him with much courage and intrepidity. He is
accustomed to severe discipline, and is very well armed. The infantry
opposes with confidence the attack of cavalry, and shows more
indifference than any other European army when attacked in the flank or
rear. These qualities explain why the English have never been defeated
in a pitched field since they were commanded by the Duke of Wellington.
"On the other hand, there are no troops in Europe less experienced than
the English in the light service and in skirmishes; accordingly, they do
not practise that service themselves. The English army in Spain formed
the standing force round which the Spaniards and Portuguese rallied. The
Duke of Wellington acted wisely in reserving his English troops for
regular battles, and in keeping up that idea in his army.
"If, on the one hand, a country is worthy of envy which possesses an
army consisting entirely of grenadiers, that army might, on the other
hand, experience great disadvantage if forced to combat unassisted
against an able general, who understands their peculiarities, and can
avoid giving them battle excepting on advantageous ground. However, it
is to be supposed that the English will seldom make war on the Continent
without allies, and it appears their system is established on that
principle. Besides, such an army as the English is most precious for
those they may act with, as the most difficult task of the modern art of
war is to form an army for pitched battles." The Baron adds, in a note
upon the last sentence,--"The people who inhabit other quarters of the
world, and are not come to the same state of civilisation with us,
afford a proof of this. Most of them know better than Europeans how to
fight man to man, but can never attain the point of gaining a battle
over us. Discipline, in the full extent of the word, is the fruit of
moral and religious instruction."--_Histoire de la Campagne de l'Armée
Angloise, &c., sous les ordres du Duc de Wellington, et de l'Armée
Prussienne, sous les ordres du Prince Blucher de Wahlstadt, 1815, Par 6
de 10. Stutgart et Tubingue. 1817._--S.