Memoirs of Napoleon Bonaparte — Complete
his orders, by pressing the Prussians at Wavre, unheeding the cannonade
on his left, which might have led him to conjecture that the more
important contest between the Emperor and Wellington was at that moment
raging.
It was at six o'clock in the evening of the 16th that the Duke of
Wellington received the first information of the advance of the French
army; but it was not, however, until ten o'clock that positive news
reached him that the French army had moved upon the line of the Sambre.
This information induced him to push forward reinforcements on Quatre
Bras, at which place he himself arrived at an early hour on the 16th,
and immediately proceeded to Bry, to devise measures with Marshal
Blücher in order to combine their efforts. From the movement of
considerable masses of the French in front of the Prussians it was
evident that their first grand attack would be directed against them.
That this was Napoleon's object on the 16th maybe seen by his orders
to Ney and Grouchy to turn the right of the Prussians, and drive the
British from their position at Quatre Bras, and then to march down the
chaussee upon Bry in order effectually to separate the two armies. Ney
was accordingly detached for this purpose with 43,000 men. In the event
of the success of Marshal Ney he would have been enabled to detach a
portion of his forces for the purpose of making a flank attack upon
the Prussians in the rear of St. Amend, whilst Napoleon in person was
directing his main efforts against that village the strongest in the
Prussian position. Ney's reserve was at Frasnes, disposable either
for the purpose of supporting the attack on Quatre Bras or that at St.
Amand; and in case of Ney's complete success to turn the Prussian right
flank by marching on Bry.
CHAPTER IX.
1815
THE BATTLE OF WATERLOO. One of the most important struggles of modern times was now about to commence--a struggle which for many years was to decide the fate of Europe. Napoleon and Wellington at length stood opposite one another. They had never met; the military reputation of each was of the highest kind,
--[For full details of the Waterloo campaign see Siborne's History
of the War in France and Belgium in 1815, giving the English
contemporary account; Chesney's Waterloo Lectures, the best English
modern account, which has been accepted by the Prussians as pretty
nearly representing their view; and Waterloo by Lieutenant-Colonel
Prince Edouard de la Tour d'Auvergne (Paris, Plon, 1870), which may
be taken as the French modern account.
In judging this campaign the reader must guard himself from looking
on it as fought by two different armies-the English and the
Prussian-whose achievements are to be weighed against one another.
Wellington and Blücher were acting in a complete unison rare even
when two different corps of the same nation are concerned, but
practically unexampled in the case of two armies of different
nations. Thus the two forces became one army, divided into two
wings, one, the left (or Prussian wing) having been defeated by the
main body of the French at Ligny on the 16th of June, the right (or
English wing) retreated to hold the position at Waterloo, where the
left (or Prussian wing) was to join it, and the united force was to
crush the enemy. Thus there is no question as to whether the
Prussian army saved the English by their arrival, or whether the
English saved the Prussians by their resistance at Waterloo. Each
army executed well and gallantly its part in a concerted operation.
The English would never have fought at Waterloo if they had not
relied on the arrival of the Prussians. Had the Prussians not come
up on the afternoon of the 18th of June the English would have been
exposed to the same great peril of having alone to deal with the
mass of the French army, as the Prussians would have had to face if
they had found the English in full retreat. To investigate the
relative performances of the two armies is much the same as to
decide the respective merits of the two Prussian armies at Sadowa,
where one held the Austrians until the other arrived. Also in
reading the many interesting personal accounts of the campaign it
most be remembered that opinions about the chance of success in a
defensive struggle are apt to warp with the observer's position, as
indeed General Grant has remarked in answer to criticisms on his
army's state at the end of the first day of the battle of Shiloh or
Pittsburg Landing. The man placed in the front rank or fighting
line sees attack after attack beaten off. He sees only part of his
own losses, and most of the wounded disappear, and he also knows
something of the enemy's loss by seeing the dead in front of him.
Warmed by the contest, he thus believes in success. The man placed
in rear or advancing with reinforcements, having nothing of the
excitement of the struggle, sees only the long and increasing column
of wounded, stragglers, and perhaps of fliers. He sees his
companion fall without being able to answer the fire. He sees
nothing of the corresponding loss of the enemy, and he is apt to
take a most desponding view of the situation. Thus Englishmen
reading the accounts of men who fought at Waterloo are too ready to
disbelieve representations of what was taking place in the rear of
the army, and to think Thackeray's life-like picture in Vanity Fair
of the state of Brussels must be overdrawn. Indeed, in this very
battle of Waterloo, Zieten began to retreat when his help was most
required, because one of his aides de camp told him that the right
wing of the English was in full retreat. "This inexperienced young
man," says Muffling, p. 248, "had mistaken the great number of
wounded going, or being taken, to the rear to be dressed, for
fugitives, and accordingly made a false report." Further, reserves
do not say much of their part or, sometimes, no part of the fight,
and few people know that at least two English regiments actually
present on the field of Waterloo hardly fired a shot till the last
advance.
The Duke described the army as the worst he ever commanded, and said
that if he had had his Peninsular men, the fight would have been
over much sooner. But the Duke, sticking to ideas now obsolete, had
no picked corps. Each man, trusting in and trusted by his comrades,
fought under his own officers and under his own regimental colours.
Whatever they did not know, the men knew how to die, and at the end
of the day a heap of dead told where each regiment and battery had
stood.]--
the career of both had been marked by signal victory; Napoleon had
carried his triumphant legions across the stupendous Alps, over the
north of Italy, throughout Prussia, Austria, Russia, and even to the
foot of the Pyramids, while Wellington, who had been early distinguished
in India, had won immortal renown in the Peninsula, where he had
defeated, one after another, the favourite generals of Napoleon. He was
now to make trial of his prowess against their Master.
Among the most critical events of modern times the battle of Waterloo
stands conspicuous. This sanguinary encounter at last stopped the
torrent of the ruthless and predatory ambition of the French, by which
so many countries had been desolated. With the peace which immediately
succeeded it confidence was restored to Europe.
CHAPTER X.
1815
Interview with Lavallette--Proceedings in the French Chambers--
Second abdication of Napoleon--He retires to Rochefort, negotiates
with Captain Maitland, and finally embarks in the 'Bellerophon'.
One of the first public men to see Napoleon after his return from
Waterloo was Lavallette. "I flew," says he, "to the Elysee to see the
Emperor: he summoned me into his closet, and as soon as he saw me, he
came to meet me with a frightful epileptic 'laugh. 'Oh, my God!' he
said, raising his eyes to heaven, and walking two or three times up and
down the room. This appearance of despair was however very short. He
soon recovered his coolness, and asked me what was going forward in
the Chamber of Representatives. I could not attempt to hide that party
spirit was there carried to a high pitch, and that the majority seemed
determined to require his abdication, and to pronounce it themselves
if he did not concede willingly. 'How is that?' he said. 'If proper
measures are not taken the enemy will be before the gates of Paris
in eight days. Alas!' he added, 'have I accustomed them to such great
victories that they knew not how to bear one day's misfortune? What will
become of poor France? I have done all I could for her!' He then heaved
a deep sigh. Somebody asked to speak to him, and I left him, with a
direction to come back at a later hour.
"I passed the day in seeking information among all my friends and
acquaintances. I found in all of them either the greatest dejection or
an extravagant joy, which they disguised by feigned alarm and pity for
myself, which I repulsed with great indignation. Nothing favourable was
to be expected from the Chamber of Representatives. They all said they
wished for liberty, but, between two enemies who appeared ready to
destroy it, they preferred the foreigners, the friends of the Bourbons,
to Napoleon, who might still have prolonged the struggle, but that
he alone would not find means to save them and erect the edifice of
liberty. The Chamber of Peers presented a much sadder spectacle. Except
the intrepid Thibaudeau, who till, the last moment expressed himself
with admirable energy against the Bourbons, almost all the others
thought of nothing else but getting out of the dilemma with the least
loss they could. Some took no pains to hide their wish of bending again
under the Bourbon yoke."
On the evening of Napoleon's return to Paris he sent for Benjamin
Constant to come to him at the Elysee about seven o'clock. The Chambers
had decreed their permanence, and proposals for abdication had reached
the Emperor. He was serious but calm. In reply to some words on the
disaster of Waterloo he said, "The question no longer concerns me,
but France. They wish me to abdicate. Have they calculated upon the
inevitable consequences of this abdication? It is round me, round my
name, that the army rallies: to separate me from it is to disband it.
If I abdicate to-day, in two days' time you will no longer have an army.
These poor fellows do not understand all your subtleties. Is it believed
that axioms in metaphysics, declarations of right, harangues from the
tribune, will put a stop to the disbanding of an army? To reject me when
I landed at Cannes I can conceive possible; to abandon me now is what I
do not understand. It is not when the enemy is at twenty-five leagues'
distance that any Government can be overturned with impunity. Does any
one imagine that the Foreign Powers will be won over by fine words? If
they had dethroned me fifteen days ago there would have been some spirit
in it; but as it is, I make part of what strangers attack, I make part,
then, of what France is bound to defend. In giving me up she gives up
herself, she avows her weakness, she acknowledges herself conquered,
she courts the insolence of the conqueror. It is not the love of liberty
which deposes me, but Waterloo; it is fear, and a fear of which your
enemies will take advantage. And then what title has the Chamber to
demand my abdication? It goes out of its lawful sphere in doing so; it
has no authority. It is my right, it is my duty to dissolve it."
"He then hastily ran over the possible consequences of such a step.
Separated from the Chambers, he could only be considered as a military