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WATERLOO 
 
 BY 
 THOMAS E. WATSON 
 
 Author of "The Story of France," 
 'Napoleon," and "The Life of Thomas Jefferson." 
 
 New York and Washington 
 
 THE NEALE PUBLISHING COMPANY 
 
 1908 
 

 USHARY o! OdNfiRE«S. 
 I wu CoDies iteciitvotf 
 
 SEP . ,28 i«ua 
 
 l i^ m iww » MH Mi i nin, ^ 
 
 Copyright, 1908, by 
 THE NEALE PUBLISHING COMPANY 
 
WATERLOO 
 
INTRODUCTORY 
 
 The warder of the Tower has his bout with 
 the citizen on the green; Sir Walter Ra- 
 leigh looks on from above, and the lieuten- 
 ant's wife from below and neither of the 
 three — warder, lieutenant's wife, nor the 
 prisoner, Sir Walter — can agree with either 
 of the other two as to what took place. Inside 
 the Tower three different tales are told. It is 
 reasonably certain that still another version 
 was given when the citizen got back to town 
 and began to talk. 
 
 How, then, can any one expect to learn 
 exactly what occurred on Sunday, June i8th, 
 1 8 15, in front of the village of Mont-Saint- 
 Jean? Many witnesses testify, and the con- 
 flict of testimony is utterly irreconcilable. 
 Much of the battle was not seen by Napoleon, 
 and much of it was hidden from Wellington. 
 Every officer who took part in it and who af- 
 terward wrote about it contributed some- 
 thing to the story, but what officer could tell 
 it all? 
 
 From the day after the battle down to the 
 present time, men and women have studied 
 
8 WATERLOO 
 
 the field itself, have pored over dispatches, 
 have devoured Memoirs, have eagerly listen- 
 ened to the slightest word which anybody 
 who was in possession of a fact had to say 
 about Waterloo: yet a mystery hangs over 
 the entire campaign. 
 
 Did Wellington really believe that he 
 fought D'Erlon's corps at Quatre Bras? He 
 says so, positively, in his official report of the 
 action. Yet we know that D'Erlon's corps 
 did not come even within striking distance, 
 at any time during the day. Full of inac- 
 curacies as his account of the battle is, the 
 Duke would never correct the statement ; nor 
 could he ever be persuaded to give any other. 
 In fact, whenever the subject was mentioned 
 he grew testy; and curtly referred the ques- 
 tioner to his official report. 
 
 On the Prussian side, there was a current 
 of intense feeling against Wellington; but 
 there were such powerful motives for silence 
 that the truth crept out slowly, and at long 
 intervals. At first, Waterloo was claimed to 
 be an English victory. Wellington led the 
 way in this by his slighting reference to *'the 
 flank movement of Biilow." No one would 
 gather from the Duke's report that 16,000 
 of the French troops, during the afternoon 
 
WATERLOO 9 
 
 of the 1 8th, had been fighting desperately, 
 for several hours to hold the Prussians 
 In check. No one could possibly learn 
 from this report the fact that the French did 
 not give way on the English front until the 
 cannon balls of the oncoming Prussians of 
 Zelten's corps were crossing those of the Eng- 
 lish batteries which swept the approaches to 
 Mont-Saint-Jean. Reading Wellington's of- 
 ficial report of the battle, one would believe 
 that the Prussians arrived after the fight was 
 won — that they had nothing to do but chase 
 the defeated. Only by degrees did the world 
 learn that Wellington entirely disregarded 
 the pledge he had given Bliicher at the con- 
 ference in May; that he wrote Bliicher a let- 
 ter on the morning of June 1 6th that was full 
 of deception; left his troops widely scattered 
 when the enemy was upon him; gave 
 orders which his lieutenants had the nerve 
 and the wisdom to violate, and was saved 
 from annihilation at the very opening of 
 the campaign by the incredible mistakes 
 of Napoleon's officers and the heroic gal- 
 lantry of the Prussians. Lord Wolseley 
 complacently states that Wellington was 
 an English gentleman of the highest type 
 and, therefore. Incapable of falsehood. Yet 
 
10 WATERLOO 
 
 the Duke's official report states that on 
 the 15th he ordered the concentration of his 
 army at Quatre Bras; and Lord Wolseley 
 demonstrates that the statement was untrue. 
 It was on NIvelles that a partial concentra- 
 tion was ordered, and had the orders been 
 obeyed the campaign would have been 
 wrecked. 
 
 Only of late years has It been perfectly 
 clear that at half-past one o'clock In the af- 
 ternoon of June 1 8th Napoleon had to di- 
 vide his army, and to withhold the corps of 
 Lobau which had been ordered to support the 
 great charge of D'Erlon and Ney. Suppose 
 this corps of fresh men had been thrown 
 against the English line when It had already 
 been well-nigh broken. At the time the pre- 
 mature cavalry charges were being made, and 
 the English, in squares, were suffering so ter- 
 ribly from the French skirmishers and artil- 
 lery, suppose 16,000 men whom Napoleon 
 had sent to drive the Prussians back from 
 Plancenoit, where they threatened his rear, 
 had been in hand to clinch the cavalry 
 charges ! How could the English have pre- 
 vented these fresh troops from pouring 
 through the gap In their line behind La Haye- 
 Salnte ? 
 
WATERLOO II 
 
 Only of late years has it been generally 
 known that It was the arrival of Zeiten's 
 Prussians on his left that released the troops 
 with which Wellington filled this break in 
 his line. 
 
 It was only when the Prussians of Zeiten's 
 corps, breaking through to the right of the 
 French who were attacking the English and 
 to the left of the French who were withstand- 
 ing Bliicher, came thundering on their flank 
 that the French army cried '^Treachery! 
 Treachery F^ and dissolved in universal dis- 
 may. 
 
 As to Napoleon, whenever he talked of 
 Waterloo he either confined himself to de- 
 spairing ejaculations or involved himself in 
 contradictions. He blamed himself for not 
 having reconnoitered Wellington's position; 
 he admitted that he had not had a good view 
 of the field; he confessed that he had made 
 a mistake in changing his plan of assailing the 
 English right ; he denied giving the order for 
 the heavy cavalry to charge, although this 
 order had been carried by his own aide-de- 
 camp. Count Flahaut — the father of one or 
 two of Hortense's queerly mixed brood of 
 children; and he severely blamed D'Erlon, 
 Ney and Grouchy. 
 
12 WATERLOO 
 
 A curious evidence of the difficulty of learn- 
 ing the truth about Waterloo is to be found in 
 Victor Hugo's "Les Miserables." Describ- 
 ing the struggle for Hougoumont, he speaks 
 of the fight in the chapel. He represents the 
 sacred building as having gone through all 
 the horrors of war, having been splashed with 
 blood, having been torn by shot and shell, and 
 having been ravaged by fire. All this seems 
 probable enough, and yet the English au- 
 thoress of "Waterloo Days" visited the bat- 
 tlefield a few hours after the fight and 
 she makes particular mention of this same 
 chapel; and she declares that it "stood unin- 
 jured" ! Listen to this lady — Charlotte 
 Eaton: "No shot or shell had penetrated its 
 sacred walls; and no sacrilegious hand had 
 dared to violate its humble altar, which was 
 still adorned with its ancient ornaments and 
 its customary care." This is quite different 
 from Hugo's "Soldiers massacred each other 
 in the chapel." 
 
 After Hugo's famous description of Wa- 
 terloo appeared, all the world talked of "the 
 old road of Ohain" which had, the novelist 
 declared, been the pitfall and the tomb of 
 the French cavalry. Painters caught up the 
 theme, and the legend lives on imperishable 
 
WATERLOO 13 
 
 canvas. But now history discards the story. 
 The road from Ohain to Braine I'Alleud 
 does become a hollow way, between steep 
 banks, for about 400 yards; but the French 
 were aware of the fact, and the cavalry did 
 not charge across the trench. The charges 
 passed over the road where it was on a level 
 with the plain. It is true, however, that in 
 the bewildering movements incident to charge 
 and countercharge, a small body of French 
 cavalry came upon this "hollow way," 
 walked their horses down the bank, got upon 
 the road, and were about to ride up the other 
 bank to get at the English, when the English 
 cavalry charged the road, making it impos- 
 sible for the French to mount the bank. They 
 then rode up "the hollow way," — hacked at 
 by the English above, — until they reached the 
 level ground, when they retired into the open 
 field to reform. 
 
 There has been much controversy as to 
 whether the Duke of Wellington rode over 
 to Bliicher's camp on the night of the 17th. 
 There is now conclusive evidence that no such 
 visit was made. 
 
 In Archibald Forbes's "Camps, Quarters 
 and Casual Places," published in 1896, we 
 find: "Quite recently there have been found 
 
14 WATERLOO 
 
 and are now in the possession of the Rev. 
 Frederick Gurney, the grandson of the late 
 Sir John Gurney, the notes of a 'conversation 
 with the Duke of Wellington and Baron Gur- 
 ney and Mr. Justice Williams, Judges on Cir- 
 cuit, at Strathfieldsaye House, on 24th Feb- 
 ruary, 1837.' The annotator was Baron 
 Gurney, to the following effect: 'The con- 
 versation had been commenced by my inquir- 
 ing of him (the Duke) whether a story 
 which I had heard was true of his having 
 ridden over to Bliicher on the night before 
 the battle of Waterloo, and returned on the 
 same horse. He said, "No, that was not so. 
 I did not see Bliicher on the day before Wa- 
 terloo. I saw him the day before, on the day 
 of Quatre Bras. I saw him after Waterloo, 
 and he kissed me. He embraced me on horse- 
 back. I had communicated with him the day 
 before Waterloo.'* The rest of the conver- 
 sation made no further reference to the topic 
 of the ride to Wavre.' " 
 
 In Houssaye's "18 15" the statement is 
 made that the French troops did not receive 
 their rations on the night of the 17th until 
 after midnight, or even later. 
 
 The truth seems to be that some of the 
 troops got nothing at all to eat. They went 
 
WATERLOO 15 
 
 into the fight on empty stomachs^ — stimulated 
 by a drink of brandy. The enemy, of course, 
 suffered no such disadvantage, for ample 
 supplies came from Brussels. Again, the 
 English had camp-fires to keep themselves 
 warm and to dry their clothing; the French 
 had no fires, and went into action chilled, and 
 in wet clothing. 
 
 To understand the physical disadvantage 
 against which the French had to struggle, we 
 should remember that they had to charge up 
 hill over miry ground. The English were 
 stationary on the crest, excepting when they 
 charged, and then they charged down hill. 
 Those who have walked over a ploughed 
 field, or who have galloped a horse up a miry 
 slope, will know how to appreciate the im- 
 mense difficulties under which the French la- 
 bored. 
 
WATERLOO 
 
 CHAPTER I 
 
 In 1 8 15 the Emperor was no longer a 
 lean, sinewy, tireless, eternally vigilant hu- 
 man tiger — ^the Napoleon of Rivoli and 
 Marengo. He was no longer the consum- 
 mate General-in-Chief of Austerlitz and Wa- 
 gram. The mysterious lethargy which had 
 overwhelmed him at the critical hour of Bo- 
 rodino, when he withheld the order for the 
 Old Guard to charge and convert the Russian 
 defeat into a decisive disaster, had been the 
 first visit of the Evil Genius which was to 
 come again. The strange loss of the power 
 to decide between two totally different lines 
 of action, which, at the Chateau Diiben had 
 kept him idle two days, lolling on a sofa, or 
 sitting at his writing-table tracing on the pa- 
 per big school-boy letters, was to become a 
 recurrent calamity, puzzling all who knew 
 him, and paralyzing the action of his lieuten- 
 ants in the most critical emergencies. 
 
1 8 WATERLOO 
 
 At Leipsic the reins had fallen from his 
 hands; only one permanent bridge over the 
 deep river in his rear had been provided to let 
 him out of the death trap; and when the 
 strong currents of the rout tore through the 
 frantic city, the great Napoleon drifted with 
 the furious tide, whistling vacantly. 
 
 The same unexplainable eclipse of genius, 
 which General E. P. Alexander described as 
 occurring to Stonewall Jackson, in the Mal- 
 vern Hill movements of our Civil War, 
 happened to the French Emperor, time and 
 again, after that first collapse at Borodino. 
 
 In Spain he ordered a madly reckless 
 charge of his Polish Light Cavalry against 
 the heights of Sommo Sierra, where the 
 Spanish army was entrenched and where the 
 position easily admitted of successful flanking, 
 got his best troops wastefully butchered — 
 and could not afterward remember who gave 
 the order to charge ! 
 
 In Dresden, in 1 8 13, he had won a brilliant 
 victory which needed only to be ruthlessly 
 pushed; and he was pushing it with all his 
 tremendous driving power when, in the twin- 
 kle of an eye, his Evil Genius descended upon 
 him, took his strength away, held him in in- 
 visible but inexorable bonds; — and when the 
 
WATERLOO 19 
 
 spell passed, the fruits of the glorious triumph 
 were all gone, and Despair had thrown its 
 baleful shadow athwart every possible line of 
 action. 
 
 The mighty Emperor, in years gone by, 
 had overdrawn his account at the bank of 
 Nature, and his drafts were now coming back 
 on him, protested. He who had once slept 
 too little, now slept too much. Often In the 
 earlier campaigns he had abstained from eat- 
 ing; now he over-ate. The reckless expo- 
 sures and the intensely sustained labor of six- 
 teen hours out of the twenty-four were taking 
 their revenge. The corpulent Napoleon now 
 loved his ease, was soon fatigued, spent hours 
 In the tepid bath, and slept away the early 
 morning when every advance of the sunbeam 
 meant lost ground to the eagles of France. 
 
 Talkative, when he had once been reticent; 
 undecided, where he had been resolute; care- 
 less, where he had been Indefatigable and 
 cautious; despondent, where he had been 
 serenely confident, the Emperor who had 
 sprung with hawk-like determination upon the 
 plotting Bourbons, had clutched their unsus- 
 pecting Due D'Enghlen, dragged him to 
 Paris In the night, shot him, and buried him 
 in a ditch before day — this Emperor did 
 
20 WATERLOO 
 
 not have enough of that terrific energy left 
 to even fling the traitors, Fouche and Talley- 
 rand, into prison. 
 
 He knew that these two men were at their 
 old tricks again, but he could not act. Look- 
 ing at Fouche calmly, Napoleon said, "I 
 ought to have you shot." Nothing could 
 prove more conclusively that the Napoleon of 
 old no longer lived. Had he been the man 
 of Brumaire, or Lodi, or Jena, he would have 
 shot the traitor first, and talked about it after- 
 ward. 
 
 In the sere and yellow leaf of life, but still 
 Titanic in his proportions, the Emperor, once 
 the charity-boy of Brienne, — he who fought 
 the whole school when the young aristocrats 
 of France made fun of his shabby clothes and 
 Corsican birth, — stood at bay against a world 
 in arms. 
 
 Feudalism against him: Caste against 
 him : Hereditary Aristocracy against him : 
 The Divine Right of Kings against him; and 
 above all, the ignorance, the prejudice, and 
 the unwillingness of mankind to he forced out 
 of old ruts were against him. Against him 
 was a Church hierarchy which panted for 
 ancient powers and immunities and wealth. 
 Against him were the Privileged Few of every 
 
WATERLOO 21 
 
 government on earth — those who feast on 
 Class legislation and resent interruption. 
 Against him were all those who denied the 
 right of a nation to choose its own ruler, those 
 who hated the dogma that the true foundation 
 to government is the consent of the governed. 
 To meet so powerful a combination, the one 
 sure resource was that from which Napoleon 
 shrank in horror — an appeal to the Jacobins, 
 the Sansculottes, the fierce men of the masses 
 who hated the priest and the aristocrat. . 
 
 '^When one has had misfortunes one no 
 longer has the confidence which is necessary 
 to success J' 
 
 With this mournful remark, made in pri- 
 vate to that noble old Revolutionary patriot, 
 Carnot, the Emperor made ready to leave 
 Paris to join his army. 
 
 In gathering up the scattered remnants of 
 his former hosts Napoleon had worked at a 
 vast disadvantage. Time and money were 
 what he needed most. He had not enough 
 of either. 
 
 His escape from Elba had found the Con- 
 gress of Vienna still in session. The Kings 
 who had pulled him off his throne, in 1814, 
 were all in Vienna, together. The armies 
 which had outnumbered him and crushed him, 
 
22 WATERLOO 
 
 were still In battle array. The traitors who 
 had plotted his overthrow, the traitors who 
 had deserted him on the field of battle — the 
 Talleyrands, on the one hand, and the Mar- 
 monts on the other — were all in lusty life, 
 ready to make sure of their guilty heads by 
 bringing the wounded colossus down. 
 
 In the midst of the splendid festivities in 
 Vienna; in the midst of the pomps and 
 parades, the jubilations over the fall of the 
 one Throned Democrat of the world; in the 
 midst of the congratulations, the gayeties, the 
 feasting and dancing, the illuminations and 
 the joyous music, there comes the clap of 
 thunder from the clear sky. 
 
 Napoleon has left Elba! 
 
 In Dumas's story, "Twenty Years After," 
 do you remember that thrilling chapter in 
 which the news is brought to the immortal 
 Three that their deadly foe, Mordaunt, whom 
 they supposed they had killed, is alive? Do 
 you remember how Athos, the loftiest man of 
 the Three, rose and took down his sword, 
 which he had momentarily hung upon the 
 wall, gravely buckling it around himf A 
 desperate man is on his track ; his sword must 
 be at his hand. 
 
 So it was with the European Kings, at 
 
WATERLOO 23 
 
 Vienna. They had banded themselves to- 
 gether to break the scepter of the Crowned 
 Democrat whose Civil Code, with its glorious 
 maxims, all tending to Justice and to Equality 
 before the lam, was a deadly menace to the 
 existence of Divine Right and Special Privi- 
 lege. They had deceived their own peoples 
 with lies about Napoleon, and with promises 
 of reforms which they never meant to 
 keep; they had deluged France with a flood 
 of foreign invasion that swept all before 
 it; they had bought the Fouches and 
 Talleyrands; they had seduced the Murats 
 and Bernadottes and Moreaus and Mar- 
 monts; they had captured Napoleon's wife 
 and child, and had deafened their ears 
 and hardened their hearts to the appeals 
 of the husband and father. They had 
 stricken the sword out of his hand, the 
 crown off his head. They thought that they 
 had made an end of this "Disturber of the 
 Public Peace" — this enthroned Democrat, 
 whose levelling watchword of ^'All careers 
 open to talent'^ they hated as a tyrant hates 
 a rebel, as despotism hates liberty. And now 
 Napoleon was in France again. No wonder 
 that consternation seized Vienna. 
 
 ^^Look to yourself; the lion is looseT was 
 
24 WATERLOO 
 
 the warning cry which a King of France had 
 sounded in the ears of a false and affrighted 
 King of England, ages before. If Richard 
 Coeur de Lion's escape from the Castle of 
 Diirrenstein turned to water the blood of 
 Philip and John, the sensation in Europe was 
 as nothing compared to that created by 
 Napoleon's escape from Elba. 
 
 Back to France! In those three words 
 burns the purpose of the European Kings. 
 The Russian army is far advanced on its 
 homeward march, but it must be halted; the 
 tired feet of the soldiers must not rest an hour. 
 Back to France! The Austrian legions are 
 at home, ready to enjoy the well-earned rest. 
 Must the bugles call once more? — once more 
 the streets and the lanes thrill at the beat of 
 the drums? Back to France! The Prussian 
 and the British armies have not had time to 
 start home. They are in cantonments, in the 
 Low Countries, close to the frontier of 
 France. Old Bliicher — '^that drunken hussar 
 who has given me as much trouble as any- 
 body'' as Napoleon used to say — is already 
 in the saddle, with a splendid staff which plans 
 his campaigns for him. 
 
 The Duke of Wellington, the hero of the 
 Congress of Vienna, must now hasten to 
 
WATERLOO 25 
 
 Brussels to take command of his army. All 
 the world beheves that Napoleon will force 
 the fighting, and that he will strike the enemy 
 nearest him, there on the Belgian frontier. 
 
 Thus, in 18 15, as the month of June lav- 
 ishes its splendors on the earth, the eyes of all 
 Christendom are fastened upon Napoleon 
 Bonaparte. It is hardly too much to say that 
 the world stands still, this fateful month, to 
 watch the unequal fight — Napoleon against 
 the Kings ! 
 
 How hard it is to understand the delusion 
 under which some of the best men of the 
 time labored! With eyes to see, why were 
 they so blind? With ears to hear, why were 
 they so deaf? 
 
 Grattan! — why did your electric oratory 
 smite with its lightnings this great enemy 
 of tyranny, when Ireland, your own home, 
 was bleeding under the remorseless cruelty of 
 the very system which Napoleon had strug- 
 gled to tear down ? La Fayette ! — why were 
 you throwing stumbling blocks in this big 
 man's way, fettering him with shackles and 
 cords, when your French Samson needed the 
 uttermost length of his locks? 
 
 Why was it that every Liberal in Europe 
 could not realize as Carnot did, — he of the 
 
26 WATERLOO 
 
 Great Committee which piloted France 
 through the storm of the Revolution! — that 
 in Napoleon's fate, at that time, was bound 
 up the best interests of the human race? 
 
 Behind the confederated Kings lurked the 
 Ancient Regime. It panted for life. It 
 wanted to re-establish the blessed order of 
 things in which the Few, booted and spurred, 
 put into governmental form their modest 
 claim to the privilege of riding the Many. 
 It wanted to stamp out the revolutionary- 
 principles which had been lifting the masses, 
 and lowering the monstrous pretensions of the 
 classes. 
 
 Had not Metternich declared, "There can 
 be no peace with such principles"? Had not 
 the restored Bourbons of 1814 proved to an 
 astonished world that they had learned noth- 
 ing, and forgotten nothing? Had they not 
 set about annihilating the glorious work of 
 reform which had cost France so much — so 
 much in consecrated toil, so much in well-spent 
 treasure, so much in patriotic sacrifice, so 
 much in heroic blood? Had they not done 
 their level best, in 18 14, to blow the trump of 
 resurrection for every abuse, every wrong 
 which France had buried amid the rejoicings 
 of the Progressives all over the world? 
 
WATERLOO 27 
 
 What was the "Revolution of July, 1848," 
 but the final triumph of Napoleon Bonaparte? 
 It was that and nothing more. Had France 
 been true to herself in 1 8 1 5 there would have 
 been no Bourbon Charles the Tenth; there 
 would have been no Bourbon Louis Phihppe ; 
 there would have been no occasion for the 
 long postponement of the supremacy of the 
 Revolutionary Principles. 
 
 '^JVith such principles there can he no 
 peacel^ said Metternich, the favorite minister 
 of the Confederated Kings ; and what La Fay- 
 ette ought to have known, and Grattan ought 
 to have known, and the Progressives every- 
 where ought to have known, was that the war 
 of the allied Kings was against those demo- 
 cratic principles. 
 
 Had Napoleon been willing to be just a 
 king as they were, there would have been for 
 him no Waterloo. 
 
 ^'Emperor, Consul, Soldier! — I owe every- 
 thing to the people!" — declared Napoleon, 
 throwing down the gauntlet of duel-to-the- 
 death at the feet of Legitimacy, Divine Right 
 and Absolutism. 
 
 No wonder the crafty Metternich, who 
 guided the policies of hereditary kings, 
 
2 8 WATERLOO 
 
 snatched up the glove and said, ^With such 
 principles there can he no peace!^ 
 
 In America the masses of the people sym- 
 pathized with the French Emperor, and hoped 
 that he would win. At the Hermitage, in 
 Tennessee, the dauntless warrior who had re- 
 cently whipped the flower of Wellington's 
 army at New Orleans, ardently hoped that 
 Napoleon would win. 
 
 In Great Britain tens of thousands of the 
 followers of Fox hoped that the right of the 
 French to select their own rulers would be 
 vindicated. Throughout Continental Europe 
 a powerful minority yearned for the system of 
 the Code Napoleon, and secretly prayed for 
 the great Law-giver's success. 
 
 Byron's friend, Hobhouse, wrote June 12, 
 1 8 15: "Regarding Napoleon and his war- 
 riors as the partisans of the cause of peoples 
 against the Conspiracy of Kings, I cannot 
 help wishing that the French may meet with 
 as much success as will not compromise the 
 military character of my own countrymen. 
 As an Englishman, I will not be a witness of 
 their triumphs; as a lover of liberty,. I would 
 not be a spectator of their reverses. I leave 
 Paris to-morrow." 
 
 Wherever men understood the tremendous 
 
WATERLOO 29 
 
 issues that were about to be fought out ; wher- 
 ever there was an intelligent comprehension 
 of the consequences that were inevitably con- 
 nected with the triumph of the Allied Kings, 
 there was intense longing for the triumph of 
 the French. 
 
 The French masses eagerly besought the 
 Emperor to give them arms — but he shrank 
 from the menace of Communism, even as he 
 had done when he refused to arm the Russian 
 serf against his lord. 
 
 In the hours of trial, three of Napoleon's 
 brothers had drawn to him again. They had 
 been much to blame for his downfall. Joseph 
 had abandoned Paris in 18 14, when there was 
 no urgent necessity for it, and when Napoleon 
 was flying toward it, on horseback, at head- 
 long speed. Lucien had been wrong-headed, 
 turbulent, making trouble at Rome and else- 
 where. Jerome's management in Westphalia 
 had Incensed and disgusted Germany. As to 
 Louis, the fourth brother, that impossible 
 dolt and ingrate did not show his face, but re- 
 tired into Switzerland. He was the younger 
 brother with whom Napoleon had shared his 
 slender pay when lieutenant, and who had 
 lived with the elder brother and been taught 
 
30 WATERLOO 
 
 by him, and in every way treated by him as a 
 father treats a son. 
 
 As to , Madame Mere, the heroic old 
 mother, she had refused to come to Paris to 
 take part in the gorgeous ceremonial of Napo- 
 leon's Coronation ; she stayed away, at Rome, 
 where Lucien Bonaparte, in temporary dis- 
 grace, drew the maternal sympathy to the less 
 fortunate son. No, she would not go to 
 Napoleon in 1800, when all Europe was at 
 his feet, and he was the King of Kings. She 
 stayed at Rome with Lucien. But when the 
 awful reverses came, when the scepters were 
 broken in the hands of the Bonapartes, when 
 Napoleon was prostrate and outlawed, 
 Madame Letitia, — Madame Mere, — remem- 
 bered only that he was her son. Josephine, 
 frail at first, but at last loyal and loving, could 
 not go to Elba; she was dead. Maria 
 Louise, the Austrian wife, frail as well as 
 false, would not go to Elba ; she had already 
 turned her lewd eyes toward the gallant Neip- 
 perg. But Madame Mere could go to Elba, 
 and she went. And when Napoleon left for 
 France, she soon followed. So, she is with 
 him now, heart and soul. For the day is dark 
 and dreary. The somber clouds hang low. 
 Thunder rolls in the distance — rolls with sul- 
 
WATERLOO 31 
 
 len menace and ominous reverberation. And 
 because the whole world is against her son, 
 Madame Mere turns from the whole world 
 to him! Heroic old woman! From her 
 adamantine character was drawn the strength 
 which laid Europe at Napoleon's feet. 
 
 In the "Harrington Sketches" Is drawn a 
 vivid picture of the last public occasion on 
 which appeared together the most remarkable 
 mother and son that ever lived. It was on 
 the 8th of June, four days before Napoleon 
 left Paris to join his army. 
 
 The dignitaries of the Empire were assem- 
 bled In the Chamber of Deputies to take the 
 oath of allegiance to the Emperor. It was a 
 magnificent ceremonial. In the streets, on the 
 quays and In the parks were great throngs of 
 people, and among the military the enthusiasm 
 was unbounded. No longer crying '^Vive 
 FEmpereur/^ their shouts rolled in thunder 
 tones, ^'Empereur! EmpereurF^ The roar 
 of cannon shook the earth, and the air thrilled 
 with the music of the bands. In the great 
 and splendid Chamber of Deputies were as- 
 sembled a brilliant array of the nobility of 
 France — those who had been born great, 
 those who had achieved greatness, and those 
 who had had greatness thrust upon them. 
 
32 WATERLOO 
 
 They had assembled to swear loyalty to their 
 Emperor, Napoleon — and not one of those 
 who were present knew better the frailty of 
 such a bond of allegiance than the Emperor 
 himself. And when Fouche took the oath, 
 Napoleon turned his head and looked fixedly, 
 calmly at the traitor. Sir Jonah Harrington 
 says that Fouche faltered and flushed. But 
 I doubt It. Sir Jonah Barrington says that 
 he watched Napoleon's countenance. Intently 
 studying Its every detail. He says that the 
 Emperor sat unmoved, his face somewhat 
 shaded by the ostrich plumes of his black 
 Spanish hat, the size of his bust concealed by 
 "the short cloak of purple velvet, embroider- 
 ed with golden bees." Sir Jonah speaks of 
 the "high and ungraceful shoulders," and de- 
 clares that he was "by no means a majestic 
 figure." "I watched his eye. It was that of 
 a hawk." He then describes how this bril- 
 liant glance swept from one face to another, 
 throughout the assemblage, without a move- 
 ment of the Emperor's head. 
 
 Sir Jonah describes Napoleon's mother as 
 "a very fine old lady, apparently about sixty, 
 but looking strong and in good health, well 
 looking, and possessing a cheerful, comfort- 
 able countenance. In short, I liked her ap- 
 
WATERLOO 33 
 
 pearance; it was plain and unassuming." 
 Then Sir Jonah tells how he settled down to 
 study her expression to learn her sensations 
 during the splendid ceremonial. And after 
 the most critical attention to the varying ex- 
 pressions of the "comfortable countenance" of 
 this fine old lady, Sir Jonah reaches the con- 
 clusion that the emotions which move her as 
 the brilliant function progresses, are just those 
 of a mother frond of her son! 
 
 "I could perceive no lofty sensations of 
 gratified ambition, no towering pride, no vain 
 and empty arrogance, as she viewed under- 
 neath her the peers and representatives of her 
 son's dominions." 
 
 What emotion was it, then, that filled her 
 bosom on that last great day in Paris? "A 
 tear occasionally moistened her cheek, but it 
 evidently proceeded from a happy rather than 
 a painful feeling — it was the tear of parental 
 ecstasy." 
 
 After Napoleon had been caged at St. 
 Helena, and was being denied comforts that 
 had become necessary to him, his mother 
 was one of those who supplied the captive 
 with funds. Some one remonstrated with 
 her, telling her that she would reduce herself 
 3 
 
34 WATERLOO 
 
 to poverty, and that she would be destitute in 
 her old age. The heroic old Corsican ans- 
 wered, "What does it matter? When_ I 
 shall have nothing more, I will take my stick 
 and go about begging alms for Napoleon's 
 mother.'^ 
 
CHAPTER II 
 
 It was half-past three on the morning of 
 June 1 2th when Napoleon entered his car- 
 riage and set out for the Belgian frontier. 
 On the 13th he was at Avesnes, on the 14th at 
 Beaumont. One who was near the imperial 
 carriage, on its rapid course from Paris, states 
 that the Emperor was often asleep during the 
 day ; and that he declared that he was utterly 
 worn out by his three months' toil. Little 
 wonder. A man who had gone through the 
 tremendous ordeal which Napoleon had 
 passed since his return from Elba — an ordeal 
 which taxed soul, mind, and body — was for- 
 tunate in being left with any strength at all. 
 His actual hours of labor had been an average 
 of fifteen per day, to say nothing of the anxie- 
 ties, the discouragements, and the humiliations 
 which made such enormous demands upon his 
 fortitude, his patience, his tact, his powers of 
 self-control. 
 
 Asked at St. Helena what had been the 
 happiest period of his life. Napoleon 
 answered, "The progress from Cannes to 
 Paris." 
 
36 WATERLOO 
 
 But however elated he may have been dur- 
 ing that bloodless re-conquest of an empire, 
 the illusion that all France rejoiced in his re- 
 turn soon passed away. The indifference of 
 Paris chilled him. The absence of many a 
 companion-in-arms who had fought under his 
 eagles was depressing. The knowledge that 
 he would have to accept fettering conditions, 
 and the services of men who denounced him 
 the year before, mortified him. To Count 
 Mole he declared that had he known how 
 many concessions he would have to make, he 
 would never have left Elba. 
 
 These were concessions to those who were 
 called Republicans, and who were dreaming 
 of popular self-government — for which Na- 
 poleon did not believe that France was pre- 
 pared. Having become an Emperor, he was 
 naturally opposed to a republic. Besides, a 
 man of his vast superiority over other men 
 naturally believes that he can achieve the best 
 results when given a free hand. With pathet- 
 ic earnestness he had appealed to the Legisla- 
 tive to help him save France from her 
 enemies, reminding them of the decadent 
 Roman senate which had wrangled over vain 
 abstractions while the battering-rams of the 
 barbarians thundered against the walls. To 
 
WATERLOO 37 
 
 no purpose. Until his power had been fully 
 re-established by victory over the Allies, the 
 Legislative would remain factious and ob- 
 structive ; should the Allies triumph, the Leg- 
 islative would be ready to renounce him, as 
 in 1 8 14. 
 
 And where were his old comrades ? Where 
 were those who had grown famous under his 
 flag, made great by his lessons, rich and pow- 
 erful by his munificence? 
 
 Lannes had fallen, during the awful days ^ 
 of Wagram. Duroc had been disembowelled 
 by a cannon ball, in one of the bloody strug- 
 gles of i^i^W Junot had killed himself in a ^ 
 fit of madness. LaSalle had thrown away his / 
 life, on the Danube, in a needless cavalry 
 charge. The gallant Poniatowski, of the 
 royal house of Poland, had gone to a watery 
 grave in the Elster, after the Titanic struggle ^ 
 at Leipsic. Bessieres, Commander of the Old 
 Guard, who had led the great cavalry charges 
 at Eckmuhl and at Wagram, had met a 
 soldier's death, at the head of his men, at the 
 battle of Lutzen. «/ Oudinot had shown inca- 
 pacity during 18 14, and Napoleon would 
 have no more to do with him. Souham had 
 acted the traitor; and when he came to seek 
 command again. Napoleon said, "What do 
 
38 WATERLOO 
 
 you want of me? Can't you see that I do not 
 know you any more?" Massena renewed his »/ 
 allegiance to the Emperor, and sought mili- 
 tary command; but he was too old and feeble 
 for active service, and Napoleon disappointed 
 his hopes of getting the 9th division. ^ Suchet 
 was put in command of the Army of the Alps. ^/ 
 Jourdan was made Governor of Besancon. '^' 
 Brune also renewed his allegiance — an act 
 for which the White Terror was to inflict ^ 
 upon him a horrible penalty. Gouvion Saint- 
 Cyr had disobeyed Napoleon's orders in 18 14, 
 and had commanded his troops to resume the 
 white cockade, after the 20th of March, when 
 the Chamber voted Napoleon's deposition. 
 The Emperor now exiled him to his castle. 
 Serurier and the elder Kellerman had voted 
 for deposition, but Napoleon punished neith-,^ 
 er. Marshall Moncey would have been will- 
 ing to take command again under the Emper- 
 or, but, as he had pubhshed a violent order of 
 the day against Napoleon in 18 14, he was not 
 given a military appointment, but, like Le- 
 febre, he was raised to the Chamber of Peers. 
 Bernadotte sat firmly on the throne of Sweden, 
 ready to renew the fight against his country- 
 men, to insure the reward of his treachery — 
 Norway. Marmont, in mortal terror of the 
 
WATERLOO 39 
 
 vengeance which his base betrayal of Paris de- 
 served, had fled with the Bourbons across the 
 Rhine. Augereau had offered his services, 
 but he was no longer the Augereau of Casti- 
 glione, and the Emperor could not overlook 
 the personal insult to which the recreant Mar- 
 shal had subjected him on the high-road, 
 while on his way to Elba. Macdonald, who 
 had led the great charge against the Austrian 
 center at Wagram, had taken service under 
 the Bourbons, and refused to serve Napoleon 
 again. Mortier was ready for the final cam- 
 paign and joined the army, but, falling sick, 
 sold his chargers to Ney and took no part in 
 the fighting of the Hundred Days. Berthier, ^ 
 the favorite of his chief, the bosom friend, the 
 constant companion; Berthier, of whom Na- 
 poleon was so fond that he petted him like a 
 spoilt child and would not dine in his tent until 
 Berthier came to share the meal — Berthier 
 had put on the King's uniform, accepted high 
 position in his household, and fled the country 
 upon the Emperor's return. At the castle of 
 Bamberg, in Bavaria, he saw the Russians 
 pouring by on their march to France. Over- 
 come by the miseries of his situation, the re- 
 morseful traitor threw himself from an upper 
 window and died on the pavement below. 
 
40 WATERLOO 
 
 Where was Muratf The most brilliant 
 cavalry officer that the world ever saw had 
 offered his sword to Napoleon, and had been 
 spurned. God! what a mistake. The Em- 
 peror, who had retained Fouche, and given a 
 command to Bourmont, might well have 
 trusted his own brother-in-law, who had every- 
 thing to gain by a victory which would re- 
 store the fortunes of all the Napoleonic con- 
 nection. But Murat had appeared in arms 
 against France, and this Napoleon would not 
 forgive. Besides, he had attacked the Aus- 
 trians, with whose Emperor there is reason to 
 believe that Napoleon had come to an under- 
 standing before leaving Elba. Murat's in- 
 sane conduct not only brought ruin upon him- 
 self, but destroyed whatever chance Napoleon 
 had to detach Austria from the Alliance. So 
 it was that Murat was in concealment at 
 Toulon while the battle raged at Waterloo. 
 
 Greatest of Napoleon's Marshals was Da- 
 vout, the victor of Auerstadt — a greater feat 
 of arms than Napoleon's own triumph at 
 Jena on the same day But he was wasted 
 during the Hundred Days. He begged hard 
 for a command, but the Emperor chose to 
 have him remain in Paris, Minister of War, 
 and thus the great soldier who might have 
 
WATERLOO 41 
 
 given such a different account of the Prussians, 
 had he instead of Grouchy been sent after 
 them, sat useless in the office in Paris, while 
 the cannon roared at Fluerus, at Ligny, at 
 Quatre Bras, at Wavre, at La Belle Alliance. 
 Souk was a commander of ability, and he was 
 loyal and full of zeal; but he had long held 
 independent command, had practically no ex- 
 perience as a staff-officer; and yet he applied 
 for and was given the position of Chief of 
 Staff. This unfortunate choice proved to be 
 one of the principal causes of the disaster of 
 the campaign 
 
 And where was Ney? Where was Napo- 
 leon's "Bravest of the brave"? — the heroic 
 figure that had held the rearguard all 
 through the horrors of the Retreat from Mos- 
 cow ; the impatient lieutenant who had almost 
 used threats of personal violence to his Em- 
 peror to compel him to sign the first abdica- 
 tion ; the turn-coat who had gone over to the 
 Bourbons, and who had promised the King to 
 bring Napoleon to Paris in an iron cage ? 
 
 The torrent which was bearing the exile 
 back to his throne proved too strong for Ney; 
 and when his own troops cried, ^^Vive L'Em- 
 pereurf' Ney was swept off his feet. 
 
42 WATERLOO 
 
 When the big-hearted, impulsive man began 
 to make explanations and denials, Napoleon 
 stopped him with, "Embrace me, Ney." 
 
 Weeks afterward, when the Marshal felt 
 that the Emperor must have learned about the 
 iron cage threat, he was clumsy enough to 
 mention the matter to Napoleon, and to claim 
 that he merely made the remark to deceive the 
 King as to his real design, which was to go 
 over to the returning Emperor. Napoleon 
 said nothing, but gave Ney one of those looks 
 which made even Vandamme grow ill at ease. 
 
 Mortified, feeling that he had blundered 
 throughout, — in 1814 and in 18 15, — Ney 
 withdrew to his estate. 
 
 Only at the last moment, and then out of 
 pity, did Napoleon send word to Ney that he 
 might serve. The message was fatal — for it 
 cost Napoleon his throne, and Ney his life. 
 
 It was not until the 12th of June that Ney 
 set out for the army, and he was so ill pre- 
 pared that he made the journey to Avesnes in 
 a coach, and from there to Beaumont in a 
 peasant's cart. It was that evening that he 
 bought from Marshal Mortier the horses he 
 rode into battle. At the head of his army. 
 Napoleon was cordial to his old lieutenant. 
 "I am glad to see you, Ney. You will take 
 
WATERLOO 43 
 
 command of ist and 2nd Army Corps. Drive 
 the enemy on the Brussels road, and take pos- 
 session of Quatre Bras." 
 
 What of the composition and temper of the 
 army with which the great Captain was to 
 make his last campaign? 
 
 The officers did not possess the confidence 
 of the troops, and were themselves without 
 confidence in the star of Napoleon. Even 
 those generals who were at heart his friends 
 and were ready to die by him, had little or no 
 hope of success. How could it be otherwise ? 
 Napoleon could not inspire others with a faith 
 which he did not himself feel; and we have 
 overwhelming evidence to the effect that he 
 was depressed, filled with forebodings. 
 
 It was in the troops of the rank and file that 
 confidence lay. These were in a frenzy of en- 
 thusiasm for their Emperor, and of hatred 
 against his enemies. In their way of judging 
 events, their Captain had never been defeated. 
 The Russian snows had been the cause of his 
 failure in 18 12, and the treachery of his Mar- 
 shals had been his ruin in the Campaign of 
 1 8 13 and 18 14. Nothing but treachery 
 could check him now; but that there was 
 treason afoot was a universal suspicion among 
 
44 WATERLOO 
 
 the men of the rank and file. "Don't trust the 
 Marshals," they were constantly saying; and 
 even, at Waterloo a soldier ran from the 
 ranks, caught the bridle rein of the white 
 Arabian mare that the Emperor rode, and ex- 
 claimed, "Sire, don't trust Marshal Soult! 
 He betrays you !" "Be calm. Trust Mar- 
 shal Soult, and trust me," was Napoleon's 
 reply. Evidently here was an army that would 
 strike with terrific force, but which might 
 break all to pieces on the field at the slightest 
 evidence of bad faith on the part of its com- 
 manders. 
 
 At the very outset, Soult's unfitness for 
 his position as Chief of Staff was demon- 
 strated. When orders to concentrate the 
 army were flying as fast as couriers could 
 bear them. Napoleon came upon the cavalry 
 of Grouchy, at Laon, before that officer had 
 stirred a step. He had received no orders. 
 Had Napoleon been the vigilant, quickly reso- 
 lute Captain of old, his Chief of Staff 
 would have been dismissed at once. Like the 
 leak in the dyke, such a mistake indicated the 
 danger of a colossal disaster. In person, Na- 
 poleon had to order Grouchy forward; and 
 practically the same thing had to be done with 
 the corps of Vandamme. Soult had sent 
 
WATERLOO 45 
 
 marching orders to that officer hy a single 
 courier, whose horse fell with him, breaking 
 his leg; and the poor fellow lay there all 
 night with the undelivered order. 
 
 Both of these delays were felt throughout 
 the campaign. The cavalry, had to make a 
 forced march of 20 leagues and this tired the 
 horses ; and In the cavalry charges of the fol- 
 lowing days the mounts of the French were 
 jaded, while those of the enemy were fresh. 
 Vandamme's failure to get his orders caused 
 the combination of the Emperor to fall short 
 of what it ought to have accomplished, and 
 this In turn caused other losses to the end of 
 the campaign. 
 
 Even at this late day the armies of Bliicher 
 and Wellington were spread over a front line 
 of 35 leagues. The base of the Prussians was 
 Liege; that of the English, Brussels and 
 Ghent. The point of contact of the two 
 armies was the road from Charleroi to Brus- 
 sels. Napoleon determined to seize this road, 
 strike the Allies at the point of contact and 
 drive them apart, so that he could crush each 
 in detail. This done, he believed that Austria 
 would withdraw from the Alliance, the Bel- 
 gians rise In his favor, Italy assert her friend- 
 ship for him, and all France unite against the 
 
46 WATERLOO 
 
 Bourbons. If these very probable changes 
 should take place, he could either conclude an 
 honorable peace with Russia, Prussia, and 
 Great Britain, or he could safely defy them. 
 
 On the 14th of June the Emperor slept 
 among his troops. Next morning he ad- 
 dressed them in the order of the day : 
 
 "Soldiers, to-day is the anniversary of Mar- 
 engo and Friedland, which twice decided the 
 fate of Europe. We were too generous after 
 Austerlitz and Wagram. And now banded 
 together against us, the sovereigns we left on 
 their thrones conspire against the independ- 
 ence and the most sacred rights of France. 
 They have begun by the most iniquitous ag- 
 gression. Let us march to meet them ; are we 
 not the men we were then? The time has 
 come for every Frenchman who loves his 
 country to conquer or to die." 
 
 The army of 124,000 men to whom those 
 burning words were addressed had been swift- 
 ly concentrated within cannon-shot of the 
 enemy, before Bliicher or Wellington had the 
 faintest idea of what had happened. While 
 it was possible for the French Emperor to 
 strike at once, with the crushing weight of the 
 whole army, three days were necessary to 
 
WATERLOO 47 
 
 Bliicher and Wellington. How did they get 
 those three days? Through the blunders and 
 disobedience of Napoleon's own officers. 
 Contributing immensely to the same result 
 was the refusal of Wellington's officers to obey 
 the orders which he sent from Brussels and 
 which, had they been obeyed, would have left 
 Quatre Bras in the hands of the French, and 
 put Napoleon in overwhelming numbers be- 
 tween the scattered forces of his enemies. To 
 have destroyed them would have been child's 
 play for such a captain. 
 
 On the 15th of June, Wellington wrote to 
 the Czar of Russia stating his intention to 
 take the offensive at the end of the month. 
 As to Bliicher, that indomitable but short- 
 sighted soldier was writing to his wife, "We 
 shall soon enter France. We might remain 
 here a year, for Bonaparte would never attack 
 us." 
 
 About the time that the wife of "Marshal 
 Forwards" was reading this reassuring letter, 
 the Prussian army was flying before the 
 French Emperor, and old Bliicher himself, un- 
 horsed and bruised almost to unconscious- 
 ness, had escaped capture because of the dark- 
 ness, and was being borne off the lost field of 
 Ligny. 
 
CHAPTER III 
 
 On the morning of June 15 th, at half-past 
 three, the French army crossed the Belgian 
 frontier. 
 
 Disobeying orders, D'Erlon did not set his 
 troops in motion until half-past four. Re- 
 ceiving no orders, Vandamme did not move 
 at all — not until the approach of Lobau's 
 corps warned him that some mistake had been 
 made. Gerard was ordered to start at three ; 
 he did not appear at the rendezvdus until 
 seven. 
 
 To increase the ill effect which these delays 
 were making upon the mind of the suspicious 
 troops, General Bourmont, commander of the 
 head division of the 4th Corps, went over to 
 the enemy, accompanied by his staff, some 
 other officers, and an escort of {ive lancers. 
 
 This act of treachery threw the whole of 
 the 4th Corps into confusion, and it became 
 necessary for Gerard and General Hulot to 
 harangue the troops to restore their confi- 
 dence. Two hours were thus lost. Napoleon 
 
WATERLOO 49 
 
 had not wished to give Bourmont a command, 
 but had yielded at the urgent entreaties of 
 Gerard and Labedoyere. 
 
 To the credit of Bliicher, it must be said 
 that he gave the traitor a contemptuous recep- 
 tion, and spoke to his staff scornfully of the 
 "cur." 
 
 Between nine and ten o'clock on the morn- 
 ing of the 15th of June the French reached 
 the Sambre. At Thuin, at Ham, in the 
 woods of Montigny, at the farm of La Tombe 
 they had struck the Prussian outposts and 
 driven them, killing, wounding and capturing 
 some 500 of them. Then there was a fight 
 for the bridge over the Sambre at Marchi- 
 enne. 
 
 Too much time was lost both here and at 
 the bridge of Charleroi. The cavalry await- 
 ed the infantry, and Vandamme, commander 
 of the infantry, was four hours late. It was 
 not until the Emperor himself appeared on the 
 scene that the bridge was stormed. 
 
 At the bridge of Marchienne there was a 
 fight of two hours, and even after the bridge 
 had been carried it required several hours for 
 so many troops to pass so narrow a bridge. 
 
 To a civilian it seems strange that no prep- 
 4 
 
50 WATERLOO 
 
 aration had been made, beforehand, to throw 
 other bridges over this stream; equally so 
 that the retreating Prussians left any bridges 
 standing. 
 
 Amid the cheers of the inhabitants Napo- 
 leon entered Charleroi, a little after noon, and 
 dismounted, and sat down by the side of the 
 road. At this point he commanded a full 
 view of the valley of the Sambre. 
 
 The troops were on the march. As they 
 passed they recognized the Emperor, and the 
 wildly enthusiastic cheering of the men 
 drowned the roll of the drums. Soldiers 
 broke ranks to run and hug the neck of De- 
 slree, the Emperor's horse. 
 
 And so tired was Napoleon that he fell 
 asleep in the chair, even as he had slept on the 
 battlefield of Jena. 
 
 From Brussels the English would come by 
 the Charleroi road; from Namur the Prus- 
 sians would come by the Nivelles road. 
 These highways cross each other at Quatre 
 Bras, hence the supreme importance of that 
 position. To seize it was Napoleon's pur- 
 pose, and he entrusted the task to Ney, giving 
 him the order verbally and personally : 
 
WATERLOO 51 
 
 ''Drive the enemy on the Brussels road and 
 take up your position at Quatre Bras." 
 
 Having ordered the left wing of his army 
 to Quatre Bras, the Emperor meant to post 
 his right wing at Sombreff, while he, himself, 
 with his reserve, should take position at Flu- 
 erus, to be ready to act with the right wing or 
 the left, as circumstances might dictate. 
 
 About 10,000 Prussians were behind Gilly, 
 protected In front by the little stream, Le 
 Grand-Rieux. Grouchy, deceived by the 
 length of the enemy's line, estimated their 
 strength at 20,000, and hesitated to advance. 
 "At most they are 10,000," said the Emperor, 
 and he ordered Grouchy to ford the stream 
 and take the Prussians in flank; Vandamme's 
 division and Pajol's cavalry would attack in 
 front. 
 
 Then the Emperor left the field to hurry 
 the coming of Vandamme's corps. The mo- 
 ment Napoleon was gone, Grouchy and Van- 
 damme began to waste time, and for two 
 hours they were arranging the details of the 
 movement. While they were doing so, the 
 Prussians quietly walked off from the trap. 
 
 Enraged at the conduct of his lieutenants, 
 the Emperor, just returned, ordered Letort to 
 charge with four squadrons of cavalry. Two 
 
52 WATERLOO 
 
 battalions of Prussians were overtaken and 
 cut to pieces; the others escaped into the 
 woods of Solielmont. 
 
 It was now the close of the day, and 
 Grouchy wished to drive out of Fluerus the 
 two battalions of Prussians which occupied it. 
 These were the positive orders of the Em- 
 peror, but Marshal Vandamme refused to ad- 
 vance any farther, saying that his troops were 
 too tired and that, at any rate, he would take 
 no orders from a commandant of the cavalry. 
 As Grouchy could not take Fluerus without 
 the support of infantry, the village remained 
 untaken, and Napoleon's plan incomplete. 
 
 On the left wing the same failure to obey 
 orders was even more marked. Instead of 
 advancing upon Quatre Bras, as the Emperor 
 distinctly told him to do, Ney posted three of 
 his divisions at Gosselies, and tolled off noth- 
 ing but the lancers and the chasseurs of the 
 Guard to Quatre Bras. 
 
 The lancers of the Guard had got in sight 
 of Fresnes about half-past five in the after- 
 noon. This village was occupied by a Nassau 
 battalion and a battery of horse artillery. 
 They were under the command of Major 
 Normann, who had been left without any in- 
 structions, but on hearing the sound of cannon 
 
WATERLOO 53 
 
 toward Gosselles, he had at once divined the 
 supreme importance of Quatre Bras, and de- 
 termined to defend it desperately. Had Ney 
 continued his advance with any considerable 
 portion of his infantry, the Nassau battalion 
 would have been crushed. As it was, the 
 small force of the French which had been sent 
 forward was able to drive Major Normann 
 out of Fresnes and along the Brussels road. 
 In fact a squadron of the French cavalry en- 
 tered Quatre Bras where there were then no 
 English ; but fearing to be cut off, did not at- 
 tempt to hold the place. Prince Bernard, 
 of Saxe-Weimar, had also acted without or- 
 ders; and with the instinct of a soldier had 
 taken the responsibility of moving his own 
 troops to occupy this important strategical 
 position. Under him were four Nassau bat- 
 talions; therefore there were now 4,500 men 
 with artillery to defend Quatre Bras against 
 the 1,700 lancers and chasseurs which Ney 
 had thrown forward. 
 
 The sound of cannon in front caused Mar- 
 shal Ney to join his vanguard. Instead of 
 realizing the necessity of ordering up infantry 
 supports and storming the position of the 
 enemy as he could easily have done, he made 
 only a few feeble charges against the Nassau 
 
54 WATERLOO 
 
 Infantry, and then went back to Gosselies for 
 the night. Had he continued to advance with 
 even one-fourth of the troops which the Em- 
 peror had given, he might have destroyed the 
 entire force of Prince Bernard and of Major 
 Normann before a single Englishman came 
 within miles of the place. 
 
 Nevertheless, the Emperor had substantial- 
 ly gained his point. Almost without any real 
 fighting, and in spite of the clumsy working 
 of his great military machine, he now had 
 124,000 men encamped near the point of 
 junction between the allied armies, ready to 
 strike either. On the night of the 15th, when, 
 at Charleroi, Napoleon examined the reports 
 sent in by Grouchy and Ney, he reached a con- 
 clusion that was wrong, but which, fastening 
 itself on his mind, could never be shaken, and 
 contributed vastly to his ruin. He believed, 
 judging from the direction in which the Prus- 
 sians had retreated, that they were retreating 
 upon Liege, their natural base of operations, 
 instead of adhering to the design of so con- 
 ducting their retreat as to be at all times in 
 reach of the English. 
 
 The various delays of the French, and their 
 failure to advance as far as the Emperor's or- 
 ders had directed, made it possible for the in- 
 
WATERLOO SS 
 
 defatigable Bliicher to bring up a large part 
 of his army, and instead of retreating on his 
 base, — as Napoleon thought he would do, — 
 Bliicher advanced to Sombreffe to give battle. 
 
 Toward morning, in the night of the 15 th, 
 the Prussians had evacuated Fluerus. 
 Grouchy took possession of it, and the Emper- 
 or reached it shortly before noon. Going to 
 the tower of a brick mill, which stood at the 
 end of Fluerus, Napoleon had the roof 
 breached and a platform made, upon which he 
 could stand and view the various positions of 
 the enemy. 
 
 The willingness of the Prussian commander 
 to fight was partly the result of Wellington's 
 diplomacy. The Englishman had been 
 caught napping, and to secure time to concen- 
 trate his badly scattered forces he had given 
 Bliicher a written promise to support him. It 
 was extremely necessary to Wellington that 
 Bliicher should stand between the English 
 army and the French, and fight them off, until 
 the English could get themselves together. 
 Besides, if Bliicher retreated upon Liege, the 
 English army would be left alone before Na- 
 poleon. In that event it would have to fight 
 with inferior forces, or fall back on its base of 
 
56 WATERLOO 
 
 operations, leaving Brussels to be occupied by 
 the Emperor. 
 
 In 1876 there was found in the Prussian 
 archives the letter in which Wellington en- 
 couraged his ally to make a stand. This letter 
 was sent from the heights north of Fresnes, 
 about two miles south of Quatre Bras, at half- 
 past ten o'clock in the morning of the i6th. 
 In this much-debated letter the wily English- 
 man misrepresents the positions of his own 
 troops, puts them some hours nearer to the 
 scene of action than they really were, and as- 
 sures Bliicher of their support if he will stand 
 and fight. Wellington tells Bliicher that 
 he will at least be able to effect such a power- 
 ful diversion in his behalf that Napoleon will 
 not be able to use against the Prussian more 
 than a moiety of his army. 
 
 Lord Wolseley, in his book, "The Decline 
 and Fall of Napoleon," admits that Welling- 
 ton's statements to Bliicher were false, but 
 naively remarks, "Wellington, an English 
 gentleman of the highest type, was wholly and 
 absolutely incapable of anything bordering on 
 untruth or deceit in dealing with his allies." 
 
 Lord Wolseley's ingenious explanation is 
 that Wellington must have been deceived "by 
 his inefficient staff." 
 
WATERLOO 57 
 
 Yet the undisputed record Is that Welling- 
 ton himself had issued all the orders to his 
 scattered troops, a few hours before, and he 
 knew precisely the distance of each division 
 from the field. 
 
 To the "English gentleman of the highest 
 type" it was supremely necessary that his ally 
 should break the force of the French onset, 
 delay its advance, and thus give himself time 
 to concentrate his too-widely scattered troops. 
 To Influence Bliicher he stated to him what he 
 knew to be untrue, and made his ally a prom- 
 ise which he hiew he could not keep. 
 
CHAPTER IV 
 
 The Napoleon of the Italian campaign had 
 said: "The Austrians lose battles because 
 they do not know the value of fifteen 
 minutes." 
 
 Alas! Neither the Emperor nor his lieu- 
 tenants now seemed to know the value of time. 
 
 In former years the French moved for- 
 ward before dawn. In this final campaign, 
 upon which all was staked, they started late 
 and they moved slowly, when the enemy was 
 crowding into every minute the utmost that 
 human energy could achieve. 
 
 Standing upon the roof of the mill-tower. 
 Napoleon could not perceive the full strength 
 of Bliicher's position. To the Emperor it 
 seemed that the enemy was posted opposite to 
 him on a slope leading upward to a low range 
 of hills with the village of Sombreff in the 
 center. From the tower he could not see the 
 importance of the small river Ligne, with the 
 ravine formed by the broken ground and the 
 stream itself. In the center of the valley was 
 the village of Ligny, in which stood an old 
 castle, and a church surrounded by a cemetery 
 
WATERLOO 59 
 
 enclosed by brick walls. Through this village 
 runs the stream of LIgne. There were several 
 other villages In the valley between the two 
 opposing ranges of hills. The Prussian posi- 
 tion was In reality strong, with this weakness 
 — the open slope revealed all the movements 
 made over It, and exposed the troops to the 
 cannon of the French. 
 
 It was not till long after two o'clock that 
 the French were ready to attack. Then the 
 battery of the Guard fired the signal guns, 
 and Vandamme dashed upon the enemy, 
 while the military bands played "La victoire 
 enchantant." The Prussians posted In the 
 village, the cemetery, the church, the or- 
 chards, the houses, fought desperately. En- 
 trenched in the old castle and In the farm 
 buildings, they raked the advancing French 
 with a terrible fire, which littered the ground 
 with the dead and wounded. Under the can- 
 nonade of the French, houses burst into 
 flames. The villages became a roaring hell, 
 In which the maddened soldiers fought from 
 house to house. In the streets, in the square, 
 with a ferocity which amazed the oldest offi- 
 cers. No quarter was asked or given. 
 
 Driven over the LIgne, the Prussians lined 
 the left bank, and across this brook the sol- 
 
6o WATERLOO 
 
 diers shot each other, with guns only a few 
 feet apart. In the houses wounded men were 
 being burned to death, and their frightful 
 cries rang out above the roar of battle. The 
 hot day of June was made hotter by the fierce 
 flames which wrapped the buildings; clouds 
 hung in the heavens, and the smoke from the 
 guns, dense and foul, was pierced by tongues 
 of fire from the blazing houses and by the 
 flashes of the guns as Prussians and French- 
 men shot each other down. 
 
 After four charges in force ; after sanguin- 
 ary hand-to-hand fights for every hedge and 
 wall and house; after the fiercest struggle for 
 the brook, the Prussians fell back — the 
 French pouring over the bridges. That 
 Bliicher had failed to blow up the bridges 
 was a disastrous mistake. 
 
 But this was only the right wing of 
 Bliicher's army; the center and the left wing 
 were unhurt. Bliicher came down from his 
 observatory, on the roof of the mill of Bussy, 
 to order in person a movement on Wagnalee, 
 from which the Prussians would take the 
 French in flank. While the Prussians, reani- 
 mated by the presence of "Old Marshal For- 
 wards," sprang forward with cheers, and be- 
 
WATERLOO 6 I 
 
 gan to drive the French back, Napoleon 
 made ready for his master-stroke. 
 
 Ney at Quatre Bras is in the rear of the 
 Prussians. Let him merely hold in check 
 whatever force of English is coming from 
 Brussels, and detach D'Erlon with his 20,000 
 men to fall upon the Prussian flank and rear. 
 This done, 60,000 Prussians will be slaugh- 
 tered or captured. 
 
 Directly to D'Erlon flew the order to 
 march to the rear of the Prussian right. Col- 
 onel de Forbin-Janson, who carried the order 
 to D'Erlon, was instructed to inform Ney, 
 also. 
 
 This order had been sent at two o'clock. 
 It was now half-past five. At six the Em- 
 peror expected to hear the thunder of D'Er- 
 lon's cannon in the rear of the Prussian army. 
 As soon as he should hear that he would send 
 in his reserves, — hurling them at the enemy's 
 center, — cut through, block its retreat on Som- 
 breff, and drive it back upon the guns of Van- 
 damme and D'Erlon. For the 60,000 men 
 of Zeiten and PIrch there would be no es- 
 cape. The Emperor was greatly elated. In 
 order to annihilate Bliicher and end the war 
 with a clap of thunder it was only necessary 
 that Ney obey orders. So thought Na- 
 
62 WATERLOO 
 
 poleon. He said to Gerard, "It is possible 
 that three hours hence the fate of the war 
 may be decided." To Ney himself he had 
 written, "The fate of France is in your 
 hands." 
 
 With a soul full of the pride of success, 
 the Emperor made his dispositions for the 
 final blow. 
 
 But what thunder-cloud is that which sud- 
 denly darkens the radiant sky? 
 
 Away off there to the left, Vandamme's 
 scouts have caught sight of a column of 
 twenty or thirty thousand troops who 
 march as if their intention is to turn the 
 French flank. An aide-de-camp sent by Van- 
 damme dashes across the field to carry this 
 fateful message to the Emperor. Thus, with 
 hand uplifted to strike Bliicher down, he 
 must not deal the blow — his own flank is ex- 
 posed. It does not occur to Napoleon that 
 this column on the left may be D'Erlon's 
 corps, going in a wrong direction, by mistake. 
 Vandamme had said they were the enemy; 
 D'Erlon had no business to be there; the 
 column must be Prussian or English. 
 
 Nothing can be done until an aide-de-camp 
 can ride several miles, reconnoiter, ride back 
 
WATERLOO 63 
 
 and report. The grand attack is delayed 
 until this can be done. 
 
 At length the aide-de-camp returns and re- 
 ports that the suspicious column is D'Erlon's 
 corps. 
 
 Filled with chagrin for not having guessed 
 as much, and with rage for the precious 
 hour of daylight lost, the Emperor gives the 
 word, the grand attack begins. 
 
 Black clouds have been gathering over the 
 winding stream of Ligne, along whose banks 
 the fighting has raged for several miles. The 
 lightning now begins to flash and the thunder 
 to roll, but even the voice of the storm is lost 
 in the more terrible voice of battle as Na- 
 poleon's batteries turn every gun on Ligny. 
 
 The Old Guard deploys in columns of at- 
 tack; cuirassiers make ready to dash for- 
 ward; the drums beat the charge, and the 
 splendid array moves onward amid deafening 
 peals of ^'V'lve VEmpereiir!'' 
 
 Bliicher has stripped his center to feed his 
 right: he has no reserves: and the whole 
 strength of Napoleon's power smites the 
 Prussian center. It is swept away. As Soult 
 wrote Davout: "It was like a scene on the 
 stage." 
 
 The sun is now about to go down — the 
 
64 WATERLOO 
 
 storm is over — and Bliicher gets a view of the 
 whole field. His army has been cut in two. 
 Desperately he calls in the troops on his 
 right; desperately he gallops to his squad- 
 rons on the left to lead them to the charge. 
 Bravely they come on in the gathering gloom 
 to fling themselves against the French. In 
 vain — torn by musketry and charged by the 
 cuirassiers, they fall back. Blucher's horse is 
 shot down and falls on his rider. 
 
 "Nostitz, now I am lost!" cries the old 
 hero to his adjutant. 
 
 But the French dash by without noticing 
 these two Prussians, and when the Prussians, 
 in a countercharge, pass over the same 
 ground, Blucher's horse is lifted and the old 
 Marshal borne from the field. 
 
 Night puts an end to the conflict and saves 
 the Prussian army from annihilation. Had 
 the attack been made when Napoleon first 
 ordered, there would have been no Bliicher 
 to rescue Wellington at Mont-Saint-Jean. 
 
 The carnage of the day had been pro- 
 digious. Twelve thousand Prussians and 
 eighty-five hundred Frenchmen strewed the 
 villages, the ravine, and the plain. At this 
 cost the great Captain won his last victory. 
 
 As he returned to Fluerus that night Na- 
 poleon's heart must have been very heavy. 
 
WATERLOO 6s 
 
 The fortune of France had slipped through 
 his fingers. The enemy should have been de- 
 stroyed. Had his orders been obeyed, 
 Bliicher's army would have been swept off the 
 face of the earth. As It was, Bliicher had 
 simply received one of the ordinary drubbings 
 to which he was so much accustomed that he 
 was not even discouraged. Neither his staff 
 nor his troops were demoralized. They had 
 given way to an onset which they could not 
 withstand; but they meant to reform, re- 
 treat to another position, and fight again. 
 
 Most of those who have written of LIgny 
 and of the fatality which deprived both Ney 
 and the Emperor of D'Erlon, — whose corps 
 would have accomplished such decisive re- 
 sults had It gone Into action at either LIgny 
 or Quatre Bras,— dwell upon the Ignorance 
 and presumption of the staff-officer, Col. Lau- 
 rent, who took It upon himself to direct the 
 march of D'Erlon's leading column upon 
 LIgny when It was upon Its way to Quatre 
 Bras. 
 
 But It seems to me that had the staff-officer 
 not turned D'Erlon's corps away from 
 Quatre Bras and toward LIgny, the Em- 
 peror's own order, sent by Forbln-Janson, 
 would have brought about precisely the same 
 result. 
 
CHAPTER V 
 
 "There is my ugly boy, Arthur," said Lady 
 Mornlngton on seeing Wellington at the 
 Dublin Theater after a long absence. 
 
 Like Alexander the Great, Charlemagne, 
 Frederick the Great, Washington, Byron, 
 Webster, Disraeli, and many other great 
 men, Arthur Wellesley, Duke of Wellington, 
 owed nothing to his mother ! 
 
 The sentimental notion that all great men 
 derive their strength from their mothers is an 
 idle fancy. 
 
 Born into the ruling caste of Great Britain, 
 Arthur Wellesley was given the best oppor- 
 tunities, and he improved them to the best 
 advantage. In Hindustan he won military 
 fame similar to that of Clive, and was finally 
 sent to Portugal when the British Cabinet de- 
 cided to make the Peninsula a base of opera- 
 tions against Napoleon. Displeased with 
 the Convention of Cintra, which his superior 
 officer concluded with Junot, after the latter 
 had lost the battle of Vimiera, Wellington 
 quit the Continent and returned to England, 
 where he served in Parliament, It required 
 
WATERLOO 67 
 
 the utmost exertion of his family influence to 
 again secure employment for him in the army. 
 
 His subsequent career in Spain, where, by 
 a cautious steadiness and unflinching courage, 
 he won victory after victory over Napoleon's 
 lieutenants, left him the military hero of the 
 day when Marmont's treachery had put an 
 end to the campaign of 1 8 14. 
 
 He was at the Vienna Congress when Na- 
 poleon left Elba, and the Kings turned to 
 him, saying: "You must once more save Eu- 
 rope." 
 
 The Duke of Wellington, associated as he 
 is with the national pride of the country, is 
 England's military hero. The greatness of 
 the Duke is the greatness of old England. 
 He identified himself wholly with the govern- 
 ment of his country, believed that it was the 
 best that human wit could devise, antagon- 
 ized innovations, detested reform measures, 
 and had a hearty contempt for the populace. 
 
 It is doubtful if any human being ever 
 loved Wellington. His wife did not; his 
 sons did not; his oflicers did not; his soldiers 
 did not. Yet he had the unbounded confi- 
 dence of his army, the warm admiration of 
 most Englishmen, and the personal esteem of 
 
68 WATERLOO 
 
 every sovereign of Europe. Like Washing- 
 ton, he had few intimacies; and hke Wash- 
 ington, he was exacting even in very small 
 matters. 
 
 That he should have won the title of "the 
 Iron Duke" is significant. In many respects 
 he was a hard man. He was never known to 
 laugh. 
 
 "Kiss me, Hardy," said the dying Nelson 
 to his bosom friend. We cannot imagine any 
 such tenderness of sentiment in Wellington. 
 
 Nelson came near throwing his fame away 
 for a wanton, as Marc Antony did : we could 
 never imagine Wellington in love with a 
 woman. He married with as little excite- 
 ment as he managed a military maneuver, 
 and he begat children from a stern sense of 
 duty. 
 
 He heartily favored flogging In the army, 
 and he bitterly opposed penny postage. 
 
 In his old age he was asked whether he 
 found any advantage in being "great." He 
 answered, "Yes, I can afford to do without 
 servants. I brush my own clothes, and if I 
 was strong enough I would black my own 
 shoes." 
 
 He had ridden horseback all his life, but 
 had a notoriously bad seat. Often in a fox 
 
WATERLOO 69 
 
 hunt he gave his horse a fall, or was thrown. 
 Like Napoleon, he always shaved himself. 
 He was a man of few words, never lost his 
 head, and was as brave as Julius Caesar. 
 
 It is Thackeray who relates the incident 
 which illustrates how the English regarded 
 the Duke in his old age. 
 
 Two urchins, one a Londoner and the other 
 not, see a soldierly figure ride by along the 
 street. 
 
 " 'That's the Duke,' says the Londoner. 
 
 " 'The Duke?' questions the other. 
 
 " 'Of Wellington, booby!' exclaims the 
 Londoner, scornful of the ignoramus who 
 did not know that when one spoke of 'the 
 Duke,' Wellington alone could be meant." 
 
CHAPTER VI 
 
 "There was a sound of revelry by night, 
 And Belgium's capital had gathered then 
 Her beauty and her chivalry, and bright 
 The lamps shone o'er fair women and brave men". 
 
 The dance Is the harmony of motion wed- 
 ded to the harmony of sound. Since men 
 have loved music they have loved dancing, 
 and the perfection of the dance will be a fas- 
 cination until the love of music is dead in 
 the souls of men. 
 
 Herodias dances before the King, and off 
 goes the head of John — a victim to the sen- 
 suous poetry of motion. Nor was Herod 
 the only intoxicated monarch whose imperial 
 will was seduced by music and the dance. 
 Ancient history is full of It — this witchery of 
 voluptuous music and voluptuous motion, the 
 sway of the woman of the dance. 
 
 As far back as we can see into the dim ages 
 of the past, the record Is the same. The story 
 of the witchery of melodious sound and the 
 rhythmical movement which brings the charm 
 of music to the eye as well as to the ear, is 
 traced In whatever of sculpture, of painting. 
 
WATERLOO 71 
 
 of literature has been saved from the rav- 
 ages of time. Graven on the stone, carved 
 upon the frieze, cast In the entablature, deli- 
 cately wreathed about the vase, we still see 
 how the ancients loved music, and how the 
 music made the dance. 
 
 Out of the annals of the dead nations 
 come the living names of their national 
 dances, and It may be that the fire which 
 burned In the heart of the Spartan when he 
 went through the Pyrrhic dance was the same 
 as that which kindled the ardor of the Red 
 Man of the American tribes when he cele- 
 brated his war dance. 
 
 There was the dance of the Furies, the 
 dance of the Harvest, the dance of May-day, 
 the dance of the religious rite, the dance of re- 
 joicing, the dance of the marriage feast, the 
 dance of the funeral rite. 
 
 In the Greek Chorus the whole city gave 
 Itself to the melody of sound and the harmony 
 of motion, just as the farandola of to-day is. 
 In Southern France, an unlooped garland of 
 music and dance drawing Into itself the entire 
 community. Only the Roman refused to 
 dance, and the Roman is the most unlovely 
 national character in history. 
 
 "Wine, woman, and song!" cried the rev- 
 
72 WATERLOO 
 
 ellers In the dawn of time; "Wine, woman, 
 and song!" shout the revellers now; and be- 
 tween these flowery banks of Pleasure runs 
 the steady, everlasting stream of earnest pur- 
 pose, consecration to duty, and love of noble 
 standards, that bears precious freight toward 
 havens yet unknown. 
 
 As Thackeray says, there never was, since 
 the days of Darius, such a brilliant train of 
 camp-followers as hung around Wellington's 
 army in the Low Countries, in the year 1815. 
 
 French noblesse who had fled their country, 
 English lords and ladies who had crossed 
 over to the Continent, diplomats connected 
 with various European courts, travellers who 
 had stopped at Brussels to await the issues of 
 the campaign — all these crowded the city. 
 With the ofllicers of the English and Belgian 
 armies, this made a brilliant and distinguished 
 society, and many social entertainments were 
 being given. 
 
 Owing principally to the fact that hers 
 was connected with the march of the English 
 army and the crowning victory of Waterloo, 
 the Duchess of Richmond's ball has, histori- 
 cally, obliterated every other. Lord Byron 
 immortalized It In "Chllde Harold"; and 
 
WATERLOO 73 
 
 after 'him came Thackeray with his masterly 
 descriptions In "Vanity Fair." 
 
 Until a comparatively recent date it has not 
 been known for certain where the ball took 
 place, for it was well known that it was not 
 given in the house which the Duke of Rich- 
 mond was temporarily occupying. 
 
 Sir William Fraser has published a most 
 interesting account of how his industrious 
 search for the famous ball-room was at length 
 rewarded by the discovery that the place actu- 
 ally used for the dance was the store-room, or 
 depot, of a carriage-builder, whose establish- 
 ment joined the rear of the Duke of Rich- 
 mond's palace. Instead of being a "high- 
 hall" as Byron imagined, it was a low room, 
 13 feet high, 54 feet broad, and 120 feet 
 long. For the two hundred invited guests it 
 afforded ample accommodations. 
 
 We can assume that this storage-room for 
 vehicles had been transformed with hangings 
 and decorations until it presented an appear- 
 ance sufficiently brilliant, and we can imagine 
 the eagerness with which "the beauty and the 
 chivalry" had looked forward to this night. 
 We can Imagine the intrigues for tickets. We 
 can imagine fair women leaning on the arms 
 
74 WATERLOO 
 
 of the brave men, and the crash of music, as 
 the band strikes up, and then, 
 
 ''On with the dance!" 
 
 Yonder is the Prince of Orange, heir to 
 the illustrious house which boasts such names 
 as William III and William the Silent. To 
 whom does the modern world owe more, — 
 for freedom of conscience, of speech, of per- 
 son, — than to the heroic Dutchman who 
 stood, almost alone — and triumphantly! — 
 against the whole power of the Spanish Em- 
 pire and the Pope? From whom have we 
 received a finer lesson in patriotism, and in 
 desperate determination to be free, than from 
 William III when, as the armies of the Grand 
 Monarch came irresistibly on, sternly ordered, 
 '^Cut the dykes! We^ll give Holland hack 
 to the sea^ rather than become the slaves of 
 France!'^ 
 
 Over there is the Duke of Brunswick — 
 whose father, in 1789, had led into France 
 that ill-fated invasion which struggled with 
 mud and rain and green grapes until it was 
 in condition to be demoralized by the slight 
 cannonade of Dumouriez and the cavalry 
 charge of Kellerman — thus bringing derision 
 upon its commander who had issued the fa- 
 
WATERLOO 75 
 
 mous proclamation in which he threatened 
 Paris with destruction. 
 
 There is Pozzo di Borgo, the Corsican, 
 the boyhood acquaintance of Napoleon. 
 They had taken different sides in petty Cor- 
 sican politics ; there had been an affray at the 
 polls, Pozzo had been knocked down and 
 roughly handled by the Bonaparte faction. 
 Here was the origin of one of the most active, 
 vindictive and persistent hatreds on record; 
 and there is no doubt whatever that the Cor- 
 sican gentleman who now glitters in this bril- 
 liant throng, in the Duchess of Richmond's 
 ball-room, has done Napoleon a vast deal of 
 harm. It was he, more than any other, who 
 influenced the Emperor Alexander against 
 Napoleon. It was he, more than any other, 
 who in 1 8 14 persuaded the Allies to revoke 
 the order, already given, to retreat upon the 
 Rhine and, instead, to march straight upon 
 Paris. 
 
 More notable still, is another opponent of 
 Napoleon whom we see in this famous ball- 
 room. It is Sir Sydney Smith. '^That man 
 caused me to miss my destiny!" exclaimed Na- 
 poleon. For Sir Sydney was the unconquer- 
 able Englishman who threw himself into 
 Acre and showed the Turks how to defend it. 
 
76 WATERLOO 
 
 Against those walls the French dashed them- 
 selves in vain. Baffled, exhausted, his rear 
 threatened, his heart filled with impotent 
 rage, Napoleon had to abandon his gorgeous 
 visions of Eastern conquest and drink to the 
 dregs a bitter cup of humiliation. 
 
 Of course the Duke of Wellington is here, 
 and many of the officers of his army. The 
 French nobles (emigres) are represented by 
 some of the proudest names of the Ancient 
 Regime. Ladies of high degree are present — 
 ladies of beauty, wit, and grace, some from 
 Belgium, France, England, but none of these 
 are so well known as a certain pretty, doting, 
 neglected wife named Amelia, and a dashing, 
 brilliant, wicked adventuress, Becky Sharp, 
 whom Thackeray brings to the ball. As long 
 as there is such a thing as English literature 
 these two, together with the prodigal George 
 Osborne and honest William Dobbin, will 
 move amid those revellers and live amid the 
 stirring scenes of the Eve of Waterloo. 
 
 "A thousand hearts beat happily; and when 
 Music arose with its voluptuous swell, 
 Soft eyes looked love to eyes that spake again, 
 And all went merrily as a marriage bell." 
 
 There was no boom of cannon to halt the 
 dance. There was no opening roar of battle 
 
WATERLOO 77 
 
 that broke In upon the revelry. The Duke 
 of Wellington sat down comfortably to the 
 table where the midnight supper was served, 
 and the officers remained at the ball hours 
 later. Then, as they had been ordered, they 
 withdrew quietly, one by one, and finally the 
 Duke came to make his own adieus. 
 
 The youngest daughter of the Duchess of 
 Richmond was awakened and brought down 
 to the ball-room. With her tiny fingers she 
 buckled on the great soldier's sword. 
 
 Do we not all of us recall how Major 
 Dobbin seeks out Captain George, who has 
 been madly gaming and madly drinking? 
 
 " 'Hullo, Dob ! Come and drink, old 
 Dob ! The Duke's wine Is famous.' 
 
 " 'Come out, George,' said Dobbin gravely. 
 'Don't drink.' 
 
 "Dobbin went up to him and whispered 
 something to him, at which George, giving a 
 start and a wild hurray, tossed off his glass, 
 clapped It on the table, and walked away 
 speedily on his friend's arm." 
 
 What Dobbin said was this : "The enemy 
 has crossed the Sambre : our left Is already en- 
 gaged. Come away. We are to march In 
 three hours." 
 
78 WATERLOO 
 
 "And there was mounting in hot haste; the steed, 
 
 The mustering squadron, and the clattering car, 
 Went pouring forward with impetuous speed, 
 
 And swiftly forming in the ranks of war; 
 And the deep thunder peal on peal afar; 
 
 And near, the beat of the alarming drum 
 Roused up the soldier ere the morning star. 
 
 While throng'd the citizens with terror dumb. 
 Or whispering, with white lips — 'The foe! They come, 
 they come!' " 
 
 Again, Thackeray: "The sun was just 
 rising as the march began — it was a gal- 
 lant sight — the band led the column, playing 
 the regimental march; then came the major 
 in command, riding upon Pyramus, his stout 
 charger; then marched the grenadiers, their 
 captain at their head ; in the center were the 
 colors, borne by the senior and junior ensigns ; 
 then George came marching at the head of his 
 company. He looked up, and smiled at 
 Amelia, and passed on; and even the sound 
 of music died away." And Amelia and thou- 
 sands of other wives go back to wait, to weep, 
 to pray. 
 
 How hard it is to believe that after the offi- 
 cers had hurried away to join their com- 
 mands, after the Duke of Wellington had 
 left, after every young man and young wo- 
 man in the ball-room knew that their late 
 partners were hastening to the battlefield, the 
 hall should continue. 
 
WATERLOO 79 
 
 Instead of being broken up by the boom- 
 ing cannon and the agonizing leavetaklngs 
 Imagined by Lord Byron, the revel went on 
 till morning, when It ended In the usual way. 
 
 Not until six In the morning of June i6th 
 did the Duke of Wellington leave Brussels, 
 and, had the orders which he Issued the even- 
 ing before been carried out, he would have 
 found Ney between himself and the English 
 army, with the Prussians annihilated ! Acting 
 upon their own responsibility. Major Nor- 
 mann and the Prince of Saxe- Weimar had 
 taken possession of Quatre Bras. The 
 Prince of Orange's Chief of Staff, Constant 
 Rebecque, delivered to the officers the written 
 orders of Wellington, but told them verbally. 
 In effect, not to obey. As a matter of fact, 
 these officers paid no attention to the written 
 orders, but acted upon their own judgment. 
 They could see for themselves what ought to 
 be done, and they did It. They all rushed to 
 Quatre Bras, determined to hold It at what- 
 ever cost. 
 
 At ten o'clock, Wellington arrived, and he 
 congratulated General Perponcher on being 
 In possession of Quatre Bras, whose vital Im- 
 portance he now recognized for the first time. 
 
8o WATERLOO 
 
 Not being attacked at Quatre Bras, Wel- 
 lington rode to the heights of Brye to see, 
 for himself, what was going on at Ligny. 
 He and Bliicher went up in the mill of Bussy, 
 from whose roof they could plainly see every 
 movement of the French. 
 
 It was now too late for the Prussians to es- 
 cape battle. Therefore, Wellington, in part- 
 ing from Bliicher to return to Quatre Bras, 
 coolly said, "I will come to your support pro- 
 vided I am not attacked myself." To his 
 aide Wellington remarked, "If he fights here 
 he will be damnably licked." 
 
 No wonder that Gneisenau, Chief of Staff 
 to Bliicher, formed the opinion that Welling- 
 ton was a "master-knave." 
 
 Had the Prussian hero, Bliicher, been as 
 craftily selfish as Wellington, there would 
 have been no Waterloo. 
 
 On his arrival at Quatre Bras, Welling- 
 ton found that Ney had at last realized the 
 true meaning of the Emperor's orders, and he 
 made frantic efforts to regain what he had 
 lost. Too late. Vainly Jerome Bonaparte 
 fights with desperate courage to win and hold 
 the Boissou wood: vainly Kellerman hurls 
 his handful of horsemen upon the ever-in- 
 creasing infantry of the enemy; vainly Ney 
 
WATERLOO 8 1 
 
 exposes himself to the hottest fire, rallying 
 broken lines and leading them back to the 
 charge. Too late. Regiment after regiment 
 of the English army arrives. In hot haste, 
 the young officers, who, a few hours ago, had 
 been dancing at the Duchess of Richmond's 
 ball, throw themselves into the fight, still in 
 the silk stockings and buckled shoes of the 
 ball-room. 
 
 So impetuous had been the assault of the 
 French that at first the English and Hano- 
 verians were driven. The Duke of Welling- 
 ton, narrowly escaping capture, was borne 
 backward by the rout. In person he rallied 
 his men and led a cavalry charge which broke 
 on the French line. Not until the coming up 
 of Picton's division did the tide decisively 
 turn; but then the French, heavily outnum- 
 bered, were worsted at all points. 
 
 "The fate of France is in your hands," the 
 Emperor had written, and Ney had not un- 
 derstood. All the hours of the morning of 
 the 1 6th he had not understood. Precious 
 hours had glided by unimproved. Now it is 
 afternoon, and at last Ney understands. 
 
 And it is too late. Were he the ally of 
 Wellington and Bliicher, he could not serve 
 6 
 
82 WATERLOO 
 
 them better. Were he the mortal enemy of 
 France, he could not serve her worse. 
 
 Overwhelmed by the sudden consciousness 
 of his terrible mistake, the heroic Ney was 
 almost demented. "Oh, that all these Eng- 
 lish balls were buried in my body!" Impo- 
 tent rage, vain remorse : the English were up, 
 and all of Wellington's delays and blunders 
 were remedied. 
 
 Verily, those who say there is no such thing 
 as Luck have never studied the history of the 
 Hundred Days ! 
 
 The fatality of the day was, of course, the 
 pendulum swing of D'Erlon's corps — a pen- 
 dulum which swung first toward Napoleon, 
 then toward Ney, reaching neither. Had 
 not the Emperor turned it back when on its 
 way to join Ney, Wellington would have been 
 crushed. Had not Ney recalled it when it 
 was in sight of th€ Emperor, Bliicher would 
 have been destroyed. But Napoleon took it 
 away from Ney, and Ney took it away from 
 Napoleon, and neither got to use it. 
 
 D'Erlon's corps of 20,000 men was utterly 
 lost to the French, although it was on the 
 march all day and burning to be in the fight. 
 Nothing in military history equals the ill-luck 
 
WATERLOO 83 
 
 of this day. In the first place, Souk's order 
 to D'Erlon was ambiguous. D'Erlon did not 
 understand it, and the inexperienced staff- 
 officer, Forbin-Janson, was unable to explain 
 it. This accounts for D'Erlon showing up at 
 the wrong place and creating consternation 
 among the French which delayed the final 
 blow and saved Bliicher. 
 
 In the second place, Soult sent only one 
 staff-officer, and this one did not carry out or- 
 ders. He did not inform Ney. 
 
 An experienced staff-officer would have un- 
 derstood the necessity of notifying Ney of 
 the Emperor's orders to D'Erlon, for the 
 Emperor had placed D'Erlon under the im- 
 mediate command of Ney. As it was. Mar- 
 shal Ney was needing D'Erlon as badly as 
 the Emperor needed him, and was expecting 
 him every minute. Therefore, he continued 
 to send urgent, peremptory orders that 
 D'Erlon should hasten to join him. 
 
 Even when General Delcambre, sent by 
 D'Erlon after D'Erlon was well on his way 
 back to Ligny, reported the retrograde move- 
 ment to Ney, the insubordinate Marshal flew 
 into a passion and sent General Delcambre 
 back with an imperative order that D'Erlon 
 
84 WATERLOO 
 
 should march on Quatre Bras. In taking 
 upon himself to overrule his Emperor, he did 
 not even consider the lateness of the hour, 
 which made it impossible for D'Erlon to join 
 him in time to be of any service. 
 
CHAPTER VII 
 
 While It was not disorganized or demoral- 
 ized, Bliicher's army was in great peril. Two 
 of his army corps were concentrated at 
 Wavre, one was at Gembloux, and the fourth 
 at Wandesett. Had the French been vigi- 
 lant, these separated corps might have been 
 overwhelmed in detail. Through the care- 
 lessness of videttes, the lack of enterprise in 
 the leaders of reconnoitering parties and the 
 unpardonable neglect of General Exelmans, 
 neither Napoleon nor Grouchy was informed 
 of the movement of the Prussian corps. 
 
 After Grouchy was given command of 
 33,000 troops to pursue the Prussians, the 
 delays in starting, the slowness of the march, 
 the lack of harmony between Grouchy and his 
 two lieutenants, Vandamme and Gerard, 
 made the "pursuit" the most futile on record. 
 
 How it was that an army of 70,000 Prus- 
 sians could get lost to the French, then found, 
 then lost again, is something that the untu- 
 tored civilian labors in vain to understand. 
 
 Yet that is the truth about it. The morn- 
 ing after the battle of Ligny the French did 
 
86 WATERLOO 
 
 not know what had become of the Prussian 
 army. They began to hunt for It. The 
 search was clumsy and far afield. But at 
 length Thielman's corps was located at 
 Gembloux. Grouchy's entire army might 
 have enveloped and crushed it. Not being 
 attacked, Thielman sensibly retired, and when 
 the French entered Gembloux they did not 
 even know what had become of those Prus- 
 sians. A strange "pursuit," truly. 
 
 Although he still had two hours of day- 
 light, Grouchy decided that the "pursuit" 
 had been pushed far enough for one day, and 
 he postponed further activities until the mor- 
 row. During the night he received in- 
 telligence that the whole Prussian army was 
 marching on Wavre. That Wavre was on a 
 parallel line to the line of Wellington's re- 
 treat, and that Bliicher's purpose might be to 
 succor Wellington when necessary never once 
 entered Grouchy's head. On the contrary, he 
 believed that Bliicher was making for Brus- 
 sels and would not tarry at Wavre. Yet he 
 knew that the Emperor was expecting a battle 
 just where that of the next day was fought. 
 
 Then why not put his 33,000 men nearer 
 to the Emperor than Bliicher would be to 
 Wellington? To do so he had but to cross 
 
WATERLOO 87 
 
 the little river Dyle and march along its left 
 bank. Wavre Is on the left bank of the Dyle, 
 and therefore he would have to cross It In any 
 event, going to Wavre. And by maneuver- 
 ing on that side of the river he could the more 
 readily keep In communication with the Em- 
 peror and succor him in case of need. That 
 Napoleon expected Grouchy to do this is 
 shown by the orders which he gave to General 
 Marbot to throw out cavalry detachments in 
 that direction. On the morning of the fate- 
 ful 1 8th the well-rested troops of Grouchy 
 might have marched at three. Yet they were 
 not ordered to move till six, and did not ac- 
 tually get under way until about eight. When 
 the French of Grouchy left Gembloux for 
 Wavre, the Prussians had already been four 
 hours on the desperate march to Waterloo. 
 
 Having at length got his army off, the ad- 
 mirable Grouchy rode as far as Walhain, 
 where he entered the house of a notary to 
 write a dispatch to the Emperor. Having 
 done this, — It was now about ten o'clock, — 
 Marshal Grouchy coolly sat down to his 
 breakfast. At this hour the Prussian ad- 
 vance guard had reached St. Lambert, and 
 Wellington knew it. And here was Napo- 
 leon's lieutenant, placidly working his way to 
 
88 WATERLOO 
 
 those historic strawberries, blissfully Ignorant 
 of the fact that his stupendous folly had 
 wrecked Napoleon's last campaign. 
 
 Upon this breakfast enter the excited offi- 
 cers who have heard the opening guns at Wa- 
 terloo. "A rear-guard affair, no doubt," 
 thinks the admirable Grouchy. But soon the 
 distant thunder and the cloud of smoke tell 
 of a battle, a great battle — a battle of which 
 men will talk as long as there are human 
 tongues to wag, as long as there are human 
 hearts to feel. 
 
 "The battle Is at Mont-Salnt-Jean," says a 
 guide. And that Is where the Emperor 
 thought the fight would be. "We must 
 march to the cannon," says Gerard. So says 
 General Valeze. But Grouchy pleads his or- 
 ders. "If you will not go, allow me to go 
 with my corps and General Vallln's cavalry," 
 pleads Gerard. "No," said Grouchy; "It 
 would be an unpardonable mistake to divide 
 my troops." And he galloped away to amuse 
 himself with Thlelman, as Bliicher had meant 
 that he should do. 
 
 So, all day long, while the Emperor 
 strained his eyes to the right, looking, look- 
 ing, oh how longingly! for his own legions, 
 
WATERLOO 89 
 
 his own eagles, Grouchy was In a mere rear- 
 guard engagement with Thielman. 
 
 When Bulow appeared like a sudden cloud 
 in the horizon, the Emperor hoped it was 
 Grouchy. When the cannonade at Wavre 
 reached La Belle Alliance, the Emperor 
 fancied that the sound drew nearer — that 
 Grouchy was coming, at last. The agony of 
 suspense which drew from Wellington the 
 famous "Bliicher, or night," could only have 
 been equalled by the storm which raged 
 within the Emperor's breast — the storm of 
 impotent rage, and of regret that he had 
 leaned so heavy upon so frail a reed as 
 Grouchy. 
 
 The positive order which the Emperor 
 sent to Grouchy, after the appearance of 
 the Prussians at Chapelle-Saint-Lambert, 
 were delivered in time for a diversion in Bil- 
 low's rear which would have released Na- 
 poleon's right. But Grouchy decided that he 
 would obey this order after he had taken 
 Wavre. As he did not take Wavre until 
 nightfall, he might just as well have been 
 openly a traitor to his flag. During the 
 whole of two days he had been repeating 
 "my orders, my orders," and his apologists 
 are forever prating about those orders; but 
 
90 WATERLOO 
 
 what about this last order, hot and direct, 
 from the field where all was at stake ? How 
 could a victory over Thielman be anything 
 but a trivial affair in comparison with the tre- 
 mendous conflict going on over there at Mont- 
 Saint-Jean ? 
 
 Ah, well, he took Wavre, licked his Thiel- 
 man, extricated his army very cleverly from a 
 most perilous position made for it by the dis- 
 aster of Waterloo, got back into France in 
 admirable shape, and had the satisfaction of 
 knowing that he had made a record unique 
 in the history of the world. 
 
 As the man who did not do the thing he 
 was sent to do. Grouchy has no peer. As a 
 man who, in war, exemplified the adage of 
 "penny wise and pound foolish," Grouchy is 
 unapproachable. As a man who, — by an al- 
 most miraculous union of inertness, stupidity, 
 pig-headed obstinacy, complacent conceit, 
 jealous pride, and inopportune wilfulness, — 
 caused the last battle of the greatest soldier 
 of all time to become the synonym for un- 
 bounded and irremediable disaster, Grouchy 
 occupies a lofty, lonely pillar of his own — a 
 sort of military Simeon Stylites. 
 
CHAPTER VIII 
 
 WATERLOO 
 
 Why had the Emperor been so late in get- 
 ting into motion on the morning of the i6th? 
 Why had he not started at live o'clock, and 
 caught Zieten's corps unsupported? Why 
 did he give Bliicher time to concentrate? 
 Why did he not press the attack farther on 
 the evening of the day when the Prussians 
 were in full retreat? Why did he fail to give 
 Grouchy the customary order to pursue with 
 all the cavalry? 
 
 Satisfactory answers cannot be made. 
 That Napoleon's conceptions were as grand 
 as ever is apparent, but his failure in matters 
 of detail is equally clear. Perhaps mental 
 and physical weariness after several hours of 
 sustained exertion and anxiety, furnish the 
 most plausible explanation of these errors. 
 
 At any rate, when he threw himself on his 
 bed at Fluerus on the night of the i6th. Na- 
 poleon was worn out. Yet he did not know 
 the true state of the Prussian army, nor what 
 Ney had done at Quatre Bras. Soult sent no 
 
92 WATERLOO 
 
 dispatches to Ney, and Ney sent none to 
 Soult. 
 
 The Emperor went to sleep believing but 
 not knowing that Bliicher had been so badly 
 battered that it would take him at least two 
 days to gather together the remnant of his 
 army. More unfortunately still, Napoleon 
 believed that the Prussians had taken up a 
 line of retreat which would carry them be- 
 yond supporting distance of the English. 
 
 To the contrary of both these convictions 
 of the Emperor, the bulk of the Prussian 
 army was preserving its formation, and 
 Gneisenau, acting for Bliicher, who was be- 
 lieved to be dead or a prisoner, had directed 
 the retreat on Wavre. Thus the Prussians 
 were keeping within supporting distance of 
 the English, although this was not Gneise- 
 nau's motive in issuing the order. He chose 
 Wavre for the reason that at Wavre the sep- 
 arated corps of the army could best reunite. 
 
 The morning of the 17th of June dawns, 
 and Napoleon has Wellington in his power. 
 But neither Wellington nor Napoleon knows 
 it. The Duke does not know what has be- 
 come of the Prussians, and the Emperor does 
 not know that the English are where he and 
 
WATERLOO 93 
 
 Ney, acting in concert, can utterly destroy 
 them. 
 
 It seems incredible that Ney sent no report 
 to Napoleon, and that the Emperor sent no 
 courier to Ney. But that is just the fact. It 
 was not until after Wellington had received 
 the report of the Prussian retreat, had real- 
 ized his peril, and was backing away from it, 
 that Napoleon awoke to a sense of the oppor- 
 tunity which fortune had held for him all that 
 morning, while he lay supinely upon his bed, 
 or idly talked Parisian politics with his offi- 
 cers. 
 
 When he did realize what might have been, 
 he was ablaze with a fierce desire to make up 
 for lost time. Too late. Wellington was 
 already at a safe distance, in full retreat on 
 Brussels, and Ney had not molested him by 
 firing a single shot. 
 
 Soon the Emperor reached Quatre Bras, 
 but what could he do? True, he could dash 
 after the English cavalry and chase it as the 
 hunter chases the hare, but even the rearguard 
 of the enemy made good its escape. 
 
 They say that as the black storm cloud 
 spread over the heavens to the North the 
 hills behind were still bathed in sunlight, and 
 that as the English officer, Lord Uxbridge, 
 
94 WATERLOO 
 
 looked back, he saw a horseman suddenly 
 emerge from a dip in the road and appear on 
 the hill in front — and they knew it to be Na- 
 poleon, leading the pursuit. 
 
 A battery galloped up, took position, 
 opened fire. And as it did so, the thunder 
 from the storm-cloud mingled with the thun- 
 der of the guns, and the great rain of June 
 17th had begun to pour down. 
 
 "Gallop faster, men! For God's sake, 
 gallop, or you will be taken!" It was Lord 
 Uxbridge speeding his flying cavalry. 
 
 After them streamed the French. Almost, 
 but not quite, the English were overtaken. 
 So close came the French that the English 
 heard their curses and jeers, just as Sir John 
 Moore's retreating men heard them as they 
 took to their boats after the death-grapple at 
 Corunna. 
 
 Torrents of rain were pouring down. The 
 roads became bogs. Where the highways 
 passed between embankments each road was 
 a rushing stream. Horses mired to their 
 knees. Cannon carriages sank to the hubs. 
 The infantry was soaked with water and cov-^ 
 ered with mud. The labor of getting for- 
 ward was exhausting to man and beast But 
 the French pressed on until they reached the 
 
WATERLOO 95 
 
 hills opposite the heights of Mont-Saint-Jean. 
 Upon those heights, and between the French 
 and Brussels, Wellington had come to a 
 stand. 
 
 A reconnaissance In force caused the Eng- 
 lish to unmask, and Napoleon was happy. 
 The English army was before him. That he 
 would crush It on the morrow, he had not the 
 slightest doubt. He not only believed this, 
 but had good reason to believe it. Had not 
 the Prussians gone away to Namur, out of 
 supporting distance? Such was his firm con- 
 viction, based partly on the knowledge of 
 what would be the natural course for the re- 
 treating army to take, and partly on the re- 
 port of his scouts. Besides, had he not sent 
 Grouchy, Vandamme, and Gerard to take 
 care of Bliicher? 
 
 Could the great soldier believe that his lieu- 
 tenants, trained In his own school by years of 
 service In the field, could manage so stupidly 
 as to allow the Prussians to take him In flank, 
 while he was giving battle to the English? 
 
 Regarding the vexed question as to whether 
 the order given to Grouchy was sufficient, a 
 civilian can but say that It would seem that 
 Grouchy ought to have known what was ex- 
 pected of him even if he had not been spe- 
 
96 WATERLOO 
 
 daily instructed. The very size of the 
 army entrusted to him was enough to denote 
 its purpose. The fact that Napoleon was 
 going after Wellington and was sending 
 Grouchy after Bliicher said as plainly as 
 words, "You take care of Bliicher, while I 
 take care of Wellington." By necessary im- 
 plication, the mere sending of Grouchy with 
 33,000 men after Bliicher meant that 
 Grouchy's mission was to keep the Prussians 
 off Napoleon while Napoleon was fighting 
 the English. 
 
 This was the common sense of It, and the 
 Emperor had every reason to believe that no 
 intelligent officer of his army could possibly 
 understand it otherwise. 
 
 Therefore, when he saw that Wellington 
 meant to give battle, he felt the stern joy of 
 the warrior who expects a fair fight and a 
 brilliant victory. 
 
 To Napoleon, a victory there meant even 
 more. It meant the possible end of arduous 
 warfare, an era of peace for France, the re- 
 turn to his arms of his son, and the crowning 
 of his wonderful career by the continuation 
 and completion of that system of internal im- 
 provements and beneficent institutions to 
 which Europe owes so much. Therefore, 
 
WATERLOO ;97 
 
 when he plowed through the mud, drenched 
 with rain, and went the rounds of his army 
 posts, peering through the mists toward the 
 English lines, listening for any sound of an 
 army breaking camp to retreat, he was happy 
 to be convinced, "They mean to fight." 
 
 No one could shake his belief that the Prus- 
 sians had gone off toward Namur. That they 
 had retired by a parallel line with the Eng- 
 lish was incredible. That Bliicher would ap- 
 pear on the morrow, and strike his flank 
 within two hours after the signal for battle 
 was fired, was a thought which could not pos- 
 sibly have been driven into Napoleon's head. 
 
 In vain did his brother Jerome tell him of 
 what a servant of the inn had overheard the 
 English officers say, that very afternoon — 
 that Bliicher was to come to their aid the next 
 day. Napoleon scouted the story. To his 
 dying day, it is doubtful whether he believed 
 that Wellington's decision to stay and fight 
 was based upon the practical certainty that 
 Bliicher would come to his aid. To that effect 
 Bliicher had given his promise — and Wel- 
 lington knew that Bliicher was not the man 
 to make his ally a false promise to induce 
 him to fight. 
 7 
 
98 WATERLOO 
 
 Although Napoleon had slept but little on 
 Saturday night (the 17th) and had been out 
 in the rain and mud for hours making the 
 rounds of his outposts, a distance of two 
 miles, he seemed fresh and cheerful at 
 breakfast, and chatted freely with his officers. 
 
 There was a question of fixing the hour of 
 the attack. To give the ground time to be- 
 come drier and firmer under sun and wind, 
 hour after hour was suffered to pass. All 
 this while the more energetic Bliicher was 
 plowing his way toward the field, over ground 
 just as wet. To a civilian it would seem if 
 the soil was firm enough to march on, it was 
 firm enough to fight on. If the Prussians 
 could drag their artillery through the defiles 
 of the Lasne, the French should have been 
 able to handle theirs in the valleys of Smo- 
 haine and Braine-L'Alleud. 
 
 Therefore, it would seem to this writer 
 that on the morning of June iStJi, when Na- 
 poleon Bonaparte sat idly in his lines waiting 
 for sun and wind to harden the ground, he 
 had no one but himself to bla!me for giving 
 Bliicher time to reach the field. During these 
 hours of waiting it appears singular that no 
 details of the plan of attack were discussed. 
 It seems strange that no preparations were 
 
WATERLOO 99 
 
 made to cannonade the chateau of Hougou- 
 mont and its outbuildings and walls. It 
 seems strange that no battery was planted to 
 shell the farmhouses of La Haye-Sainte. It 
 seems equally strange that nails and hammers 
 were not provided for the spiking of captured 
 cannon. 
 
 One of the most horribly fascinating of 
 historical manuscripts is the warrant against 
 his enemies which Robespierre was signing 
 when Bourdon broke into the room and shot 
 him. There is the incomplete signature of 
 the erstwhile Dictator, and there are the 
 stains made by the blood which spurted from 
 his shattered jaw. 
 
 Even more profoundly interesting are a 
 few words written in pencil by Marshal Ney, 
 upon an order which Soult was about to send 
 to General D'Erlon: ^'Count D'Erlon will 
 understand that the action is to commence on 
 the left, not on the right. Communicate this 
 new arrangement to General Reile." 
 
 Why had the Emperor changed his mind? 
 At St. Helena, he appears not to have recalled 
 the fact that he changed his plan of battle 
 because Ney reported that a small stream, 
 which was on the line of advance to the right, 
 
loo WATERLOO 
 
 had been swollen by the rains and it was Im- 
 passable. 
 
 Stonewall Jackson was one of the many 
 military experts who studied the field of Wa- 
 terloo, and who said that the attack should 
 have been made on the right. It was there 
 that Wellington was weakest. Had the 
 French struck him there, Hougoumont 
 would have been worthless to him and would 
 not have cost such a frightful loss to the 
 French. But the Emperor, at the last mo- 
 ment, changed his mind. 
 
 THE LAST BATTLE 
 
 ^^Magnificent! Magnificent F' exclaimed 
 Napoleon as he overlooked the legions that 
 were moving over the plateau, going into po- 
 sition. 
 
 Seated on his white mare, his gray dust- 
 coat covering all but the front of the green 
 uniform, on his head the small cocked hat of 
 the Brienne school, silver spurs on the riding- 
 boots which reached the knee, and at his side 
 the sword of Marengo — the great Captain 
 was never more radiant, never surer of suc- 
 cess than now. 
 
 Five rEvipereur! rolled in thundeij tones 
 
WATERLOO loi 
 
 as the troops marched before him. The 
 drum-beat was drowned in the mighty shout 
 of the legions as they went down into the 
 valley of the shadow of death. It was, on 
 the vastest scale, the old, old cry of the gladi- 
 ators as they trooped past the imperial box 
 to take their stations in the arena — ^'Caesar! 
 we, who are about to die, salute youP^ 
 
 As the regiments passed in review, the 
 eagles were dipped to the Emperor, every 
 saber flashed in the sun, every bayonet 
 waved a hat or cap, every pennon was wildly 
 shaken, every band struck up the national air, 
 ^'het lis watch over the safety of the Km- 
 pire'' — and over everything, drowning the 
 roll of the drums and the call of the bugles, 
 rose that frantic cry of frenzied devotion, 
 ''Vive I'Empereiir!'' 
 
 Napoleon's eye dilated, his breast ex- 
 panded with pride — for the last time, the 
 very last time. Proud he had often been, and 
 in most instances he had won the right to be 
 so. On the heights of Rossomme and on the 
 plateau of La Belle Alliance, he was, this 
 Sunday morning, deservedly proud. He had 
 reconquered an empire without drawing the 
 swoi'J, had almost done what Pompey had 
 
102 WATERLOO 
 
 boasted that he could do — called forth an 
 army by the stamp of his foot; had smitten 
 his enemies and put them to rout, and now 
 while his lieutenant, on the right, would "cut 
 off the Prussians from Wellington," — as 
 Grouchy had written that he would, — he, Na- 
 poleon, would crush the English, and so win 
 back peace with honor. 
 
 A more magnificent army than that which 
 he proudly views has never been marshalled 
 for battle, for here are heroes whose record 
 reaches all the way back through Montmi- 
 rail, Dresden, Wagram, Jena, Borodino, 
 Austerlitz, Eylau and Friedland, to Marengo. 
 
 And Napoleon is proud, this last time. 
 
 In the field Napoleon had 74,000 men and 
 246 guns; Wellington had 67,000 men and 
 184 guns. But the British position was 
 strong. The hollow road of Ohain gave 
 them the benefit of its trench for 400 yards. 
 There were barricades of felled trees on the 
 Brussels and Nivelles roads. There was a 
 sand-pit which served as an intrenchment, and 
 the strong buildings and enclosure of Hougou- 
 mont. La Haye-Sainte and Papelotte were 
 formidable defences. 
 
 Yet General Haxo, who was sent by Na- 
 
WATERLOO 103 
 
 poleon to Inspect the enemy's lines, reported 
 that he could not perceive any fortifications ! 
 
 In addition to the hollow road, the natural 
 advantage of the position of the English was 
 that, from the crest which they were to de- 
 fend, the ground fell away so as to form a 
 declivity behind the crest, and along this hill- 
 side the English were partially sheltered from 
 the French fire and altogether hidden from 
 view. From where he was. Napoleon could 
 not see more than half of Wellington's army. 
 Another natural protection to the English 
 position were the tall, thick hedges, Impass- 
 able to the French cavalry. 
 
 All things considered, the attempt of the 
 Emperor to break the center of an English 
 army, so well posted as this, can be fairly 
 compared to Lee's efforts to storm the heights 
 of Gettysburg. And In each case the attack 
 was made In ignorance of vitally Important 
 facts. 
 
 Well might Napoleon afterward reproach 
 himself for not having reconnoltered the Eng- 
 lish position. 
 
 At thirty-five minutes past eleven the first 
 gun was fired. 
 
 Reille had been ordered to occupy the ap- 
 
104 WATERLOO 
 
 proaches to Hougoumont, and had entrusted 
 the movement to Jerome Bonaparte. At the 
 head of the ist Light Infantry he charged 
 the wood held by Nassau and Hanoverian 
 carbineers. An hour of furious fighting in 
 the dense thickets — in which General Bauduin 
 was killed — resulted in clearing the woods of 
 the enemy ; but on getting clear of the thicket 
 the French found themselves coming upon the 
 strong walls and the large buildings of the 
 chateau. 
 
 Jerome had no orders to lead infantry 
 against a fortress like this, but he did it, 
 nevertheless. Wellington had thrown a gar- 
 rison into Hougoumont ; the walls were loop- 
 holed for musketry ; and the French were led 
 to slaughter. It was impossible for infantry 
 to break these thick walls of solid masonry, 
 yet Jerome, in spite of the advice of his chief 
 of staff and the orders of his immediate 
 superior, Reille, persisted until Hougoumont 
 had cost the lives of i,6oo Frenchmen and 
 had called away from the main battle nearly 
 I i,ooo men. 
 
 Why it was that the walls were not 
 breached with cannon before the infantry was 
 led against them can only be explained upon 
 the hypothesis that the Emperor never once 
 
WATERLOO 105 
 
 thought his brother capable of so mad an un- 
 dertaking. 
 
 It was nearly one o'clock when Napoleon 
 formed a battery of eighty guns and was 
 ready to make a great attack on the English 
 center. Before giving word to Ney, who was 
 to lead it, the Emperor carefully scanned the 
 entire battlefield through his glass. 
 
 What is that black cloud which has come 
 upon the distant horizon, there on the north- 
 east? Every staff officer turns his glasses 
 to the heights of Chapelle-Saint-Lambert. 
 "Trees,'' say some. But Napoleon knows 
 better. Those are troops. But whose? Are 
 they his? Is it Grouchy? Suppose it is the 
 advance guard of Bliicher ! 
 
 A hush, a chill falls upon the staff. A 
 cavalry squad is sent to reconnoiter; but be- 
 fore it has even cleared itself of the French 
 lines, a prisoner taken by Marbot's hussars is 
 brought to the Emperor. This prisoner was 
 the bearer of a letter from Biilow to Welling- 
 ton to announce the arrival of the Prussians ! 
 Even now the Emperor does not realize his 
 danger, does not suspect the truth of the 
 situation, for he believes that Grouchy is so 
 maneuvering as to protect the French right 
 and to prevent the Prussians from falling on 
 
io6 WATERLOO 
 
 his flank. Napoleon sends him the dispatch: 
 "A letter which has just been intercepted tells 
 us that General Biilow is to attack our right 
 flank. We believe we can perceive the corps 
 on the heights of Chapelle-Saint-Lambert. 
 Therefore do not lose a minute to draw 
 nearer to us and to join us and crush Biilow, 
 whom you will catch in the very act." 
 
 Immediately the Emperor detached the 
 cavalry divisions of Domon and Subervie to 
 the right to be ready to hold the Prussians in 
 check, and the 6th Corps (Lobau) was or- 
 dered to move up behind this cavalry. 
 
 Thus from half-past one in the afternoon 
 Napoleon had two armies with which to deal. 
 
 Had he suspected that Bliicher had left 
 Thielman's corps to amuse Grouchy while the 
 bulk of the Prussian army was hastening to 
 join Biilow on the right flank of the French, 
 the Emperor would probably not have gone 
 deeper into this fight. Expecting every mo- 
 ment to hear the roar of Grouchy's guns in 
 Biilow's rear, the Emperor now ordered Ney 
 to the grand attack on the English line. 
 
 Eighty cannon thundered against Mont- 
 Saint-Jean, and the English batteries roared 
 in reply. For half an hour the earth quivered 
 with the shock, and in Brussels, twenty miles 
 
WATERLOO 107 
 
 away, every living soul hung upon the roar of 
 the guns. Merchants closed their stores; 
 business of all sorts suspended; eager crowds 
 hurried to the Namur gate to listen, to ques- 
 tion stragglers from the front; timid travel- 
 lers, who had come in the train of Welling- 
 ton's army, hastily secured conveyances and 
 fled by the Ghent road. In the churches, 
 women prayed. 
 
 Is Bliicher the only man who could play the 
 game of leaving a part of his troops to detain 
 the enemy? Cannot Grouchy leave 10,000 
 men to die, if necessary, in holding Thielman, 
 while with the remainder he pushes for the 
 distant battlefield? 
 
 There are those who say he could not have 
 arrived in time had he made the effort. How 
 can anybody know that? Certainly his cav- 
 alry could have covered the distance, and the 
 infantry in all probability would have arrived 
 in time to take the exhausted English in the 
 rear, after their advance to La Belle Alliance, 
 and cut the surprised troops to pieces. 
 
 Thus while the Prussians were chasing 
 Napoleon, Grouchy would have been chasing 
 Wellington, with the net result that the Prus- 
 sians, within a few days, would have been 
 caught between Napoleon's rallied troops 
 
io8 WATERLOO 
 
 and the victorious army of Grouchy. But it 
 was not to be so. Grouchy did precisely what 
 Bliicher wanted him to do — spent the golden 
 hours with Thielman at Wavre. 
 
 After the cannonade of half an hour, Ney 
 and D'Erlon led the grand attack on the 
 English position. And a worse managed af- 
 fair it would be difficult to imagine. Instead 
 of forming columns of attack, admitting of 
 easy and rapid deployment, the troops were 
 massed in compact phalanxes, with a front of 
 1 66 to 200 files, with a depth of twenty-four 
 men. The destruction which canister causes 
 on dense masses like these, exposed in the 
 open field, is something horrible to contem- 
 plate. The error was so glaring that one of 
 the division commanders, Durutte, flatly re- 
 fused to allow his men to be formed in that 
 way. 
 
 Where was the eagle glance of Napoleon 
 that he did not detect the faulty formation 
 which Ney and D'Erlon were making? Is 
 such a detail beneath the notice of a command- 
 er-in-chief? 
 
 If the Emperor saw the mistake he gave no 
 sign, and the troops of D'Erlon, ashamed of 
 not having been in the fights of the i6th. 
 
WATERLOO 109 
 
 rushed into the valley shouting, ^^Vive I'Em- 
 peretirT^ 
 
 "Into the jaws of death" they marched, for 
 as they crossed the valley and mounted the 
 slopes beyond, the English batteries cut long 
 lanes through their deep, dense lines and they 
 fell by the hundreds. 
 
 A part of the attacking force was thrown 
 against the walls and buildings of La Haye- 
 Sainte, and here, as at Hougoumont, infantry 
 were slaughtered from behind unbreached 
 walls. But the great charge against the Eng- 
 lish position went on heedless of such detail 
 as the attack on La Haye-Sainte. Through 
 the rye, which was breast-high, and over 
 ground into which they mired at every step, 
 the columns of D'Erlon pressed upward, cry- 
 ing ^^Vive FEmpereiir!'^ 
 
 The defenders of the sand pit were driven 
 out and thrown beyond the hedges. The 
 Netherlanders and Dutch broke, and in their 
 flight behind the hedges disordered the ranks 
 of an English regiment. The Nassau troops, 
 which held the Papelotte farm, were dis- 
 lodged by the French under Durutte, and the 
 great charge seemed to be on the point of suc- 
 ceeding. But the faulty formation of the at- 
 tacking columns ruined all. When the at- 
 
no WATERLOO 
 
 tempt was made to deploy, so much time was 
 consumed that the English gunners had only 
 to fire at the dense mass of men to litter the 
 earth with the wounded and the dead. The 
 carnage was frightful. 
 
 Picton, the English general, seeing the ef- 
 forts of the French to deploy, seized the op- 
 portunity, led a brigade against the French 
 column, delivered a volley, and then ordered 
 a bayonet charge. Pouring from behind the 
 hedges, the English rushed upon the con- 
 fused mass of French, and a terrible fight at 
 close quarters took place. It was here that 
 Picton was killed. 
 
 While the column of Donzelot was en- 
 gaged in this desperate struggle, the column 
 of Marcognet had broken through the hedges 
 and was advancing to take a battery. But as 
 the French shouted ''Victory," the sound of 
 the bag-pipes was heard, and the Highlanders 
 opened fire. Owing to their faulty formation, 
 the French could only reply by a volley from 
 the front line of a single battalion. Their 
 only hope was to charge with the bayonet. 
 While desperately engaged with the Scotch 
 troops. Lord Uxbridge dashed upon them 
 with his cavalry. 
 
 The issue could not be doubtful. The 
 
WATERLOO III 
 
 French could not deploy; the confused mass 
 could not defend Itself against Infantry or 
 cavalry. They were raked by cannon shot, 
 and by musketry, and the English cavalry 
 hacked them to pieces. The slaughter was 
 pitiable and was mainly due to a formation 
 which gave these brave men no chance to 
 fight. 
 
 In their exultation the English carried their 
 charges too far. The Scotch Greys, Indeed, 
 dashed up the slope upon which the French 
 were posted, captured the division of batteries 
 of Durutte and attempted to carry the main 
 battery. Napoleon himself ordered the 
 countercharge which swept the English cav- 
 alry beyond La Haye-Salnte. 
 
 All this while, Jerome Bonaparte was still 
 assaulting Hougoumont. Defenders and 
 assailants had each been reinforced. The 
 Emperor ordered a battery of howitzers to 
 shell the buildings. Fire broke out, and the 
 chateau and Its outbuildings were consumed. 
 The English threw themselves into the 
 chapel, the barn, the farmer's house, a sunken 
 road, and continued to hold the position. 
 
 It was now half-past three o'clock. Well- 
 ington and Napoleon were both becoming 
 uneasy — the former because Bliicher's troops 
 
112 WATERLOO 
 
 were not yet in line, the latter because he had 
 begun to doubt that Grouchy would come. 
 The Emperor ordered Ney to make another 
 attack on La Haye-Sainte. The English, 
 from behind hedges of the Ohain road, re- 
 pulsed it. 
 
 While the movement was being made the 
 main French battery of eighty guns cannon- 
 aded the English right center. "Never had 
 the oldest soldiers heard such a cannonade," 
 said General Alten. 
 
 The English line moved back a short dis- 
 tance so as to get the protection of the edge 
 of the plateau. Ney, mistaking this move- 
 ment, ordered a cavalry charge. At first he 
 meant to use a brigade only, but owing to 
 some misunderstanding that cannot be cleared 
 up, this intended charge of a brigade drew 
 into it practically all the cavalry of the French 
 army. Napoleon himself did not see what 
 was happening. From his position near the 
 "Maison Decoster" inn, Napoleon did not 
 have a view of the ground in which the cav- 
 alry divisions were forming for this prema- 
 ture disastrous attack. 
 
 The English saw it all, and were glad to 
 see it. What better could they ask? Their 
 lines had not been disordered by artillery or 
 
WATERLOO 113 
 
 by infantry; what had they to fear from cav- 
 ah-y? Nothing. They sprang up, formed 
 squares and waited. The English gunners, 
 whose batteries were in front, were ordered 
 to reserve their fire till the last moment, and 
 then to take shelter within the squares. 
 
 As the French advanced, they were ex- 
 posed to the full fury of the English batteries. 
 The slope up which the cavalry rode is not 
 steep, but the tall grain and the deep mud 
 made it extremely difficult. 
 
 Yet this magnificent body of horse, in spite 
 of dreadful losses, drove the gunners from 
 the batteries and took the guns ! 
 
 But they had nothing to spike them with, 
 they could not drag them away, they did not 
 even break the cannon sponges. 
 
 Therefore when they found that the Eng- 
 lish infantry was not in disorder, but in 
 squares upon whose walls of steel no impres- 
 sion could be made; when they fell into con- 
 fusion because of their own numbers crowded 
 in so small a space, when Uxbridge's five 
 thousand fresh horses were hurled upon the 
 jaded French, and they fell back before the 
 shock, the English gunners had but to run 
 back to their guns and renew the murderous 
 cannonade. 
 8 
 
114 WATERLOO 
 
 Yet no sooner had the wonderful soldiers 
 of Milhaud and Lefebre-Desnoette reached 
 the bottom of the valley than they charged up 
 the muddy slopes again. Once more they 
 drove in the cannoneers: once more they 
 carried the heights, and fell upon the English 
 squares. At this moment some of the Eng- 
 lish officers believed that the battle was lost. 
 But Napoleon watched the cavalry charge 
 with uneasiness and called It "premature." 
 Soult declared that "Ney Is compromising us 
 as he did at Jena." 
 
 The Emperor said, "This has taken place 
 an hour too soon, but we must stand by what 
 Is already done." Then he sent to Kellerman 
 and Guyot an order to charge. This car- 
 ried into action the remaining cavalry. It 
 was now after five o'clock. 
 
 In a space which offered room for the de- 
 ployment of only one thousand, eight or nine 
 thousand French cavalry went to fight un- 
 broken Infantry ! 
 
 A storm of cannon balls broke upon these 
 dense masses, and the slaughter was terrific, 
 but nothing stopped the French. Again they 
 swept past the guns, again they assaulted the 
 squares, time and again and again — while an 
 enfilading fire emptied saddles by the hundred 
 
WATERLOO 115 
 
 at every volley. Some of the squares were 
 broken, an English flag was captured, the 
 German Legion lost its colors, the French 
 horse rode through the English line, to be de- 
 stroyed by the batteries in reserve. Welling- 
 ton had taken refuge within a square, but he 
 now came out and ordered a charge of his 
 cavalry. For the third time the French were 
 driven off the plateau. 
 
 Yet Ney, losing his head completely, led 
 another cavalry charge ! Again ran the gun- 
 ners away from the batteries, and again the 
 cavalry broke on the squares. In fact, the 
 wounded and dead were piled so high in front 
 of the squares that each had a hideous breast- 
 work before It which made It almost impossi- 
 ble for the French to reach the English. 
 
 Inasmuch as the Emperor had decided to 
 support Ney In his cavalry charges. It seems 
 strange that neither he nor Ney used the In- 
 fantry. 
 
 The 6,000 men of the Bachelu and Foy 
 division were close by, watching the cavalry 
 charges and eager to support them. As Ney 
 was personally leading the cavalry. It Is easy 
 to understand how he came to forget every- 
 thing else ; but the Emperor's failure to send 
 In this Infantry Is not readily understood. 
 
ii6 WATERLOO 
 
 Only after the fourth charge of the cavalry 
 had been repulsed, did Ney call in the in- 
 fantry. But he was too late; the English 
 batteries tore this closely packed body of men 
 to shreds, and in a few minutes 1,500 had 
 fallen and the column was in retreat. 
 
 It was now six o'clock. La Haye-Sainte 
 was at length taken, with great loss of life on 
 both sides. From this point of vantage Ney 
 assailed the English lines. The sand pit was 
 again abandoned by the enemy, and Ney used 
 this and a mound near La Haye-Sainte to 
 pour a destructive fire upon the center of Wel- 
 lington's line. The French infantry charged, 
 drove the English, captured a flag, and there 
 was now a gap in the very center of the Eng- 
 lish line. Wellington was in a critical con- 
 dition, and had the Old Guard charged then, 
 neither Bliicher nor night might have come 
 in time. 
 
 Ney saw the opportunity and sent to the 
 Emperor for a few infantry to complete the 
 work. "Troops?" exclaimed Napoleon to 
 the officer who brought Ney's message. 
 "Where do you expect me to get them? Do 
 you expect me to make them?" 
 
 At the same moment, one of Wellington's 
 lieutenants sent for reinforcements. "There 
 
WATERLOO 117 
 
 are none," he said. Suppose that at this 
 moment Napoleon could have hurled on the 
 English line the 16,000 men who were hold- 
 ing back the Prussians ! 
 
 Yet the fact is that the Emperor had in 
 hand fourteen battalions which had not been 
 engaged, and what amazes the civilian is that, 
 after refusing to take advantage of the im- 
 pression Ney had made upon the enemy's line, 
 Napoleon organized another general advance 
 against Mont-Saint-Jean an hour later. 
 
 Ever since two o'clock the Prussians had 
 been operating on the French right wing. 
 Billow's corps was having a bloody struggle 
 with Lobau and the Young Guard. Time 
 and again the Prussians were thrown back; 
 time and again they returned to the attack. 
 At the instant when Ney was demanding more 
 troops, Lobau's corps was in retreat and the 
 Young Guard was driven out of Plancenoit. 
 Napoleon's own position on La Belle Alliance 
 was threatened. To prevent the Prussians 
 from coming upon his rear, the Emperor sent 
 in eleven battalions of the Old Guard which, 
 with fixed bayonets and without firing a shot, 
 drove the Prussians out of Plancenoit and 
 chased them six hundred yards. 
 
ii8 WATERLOO 
 
 It was now after seven o'clock. There 
 were still two hours of daylight. In the dis- 
 tance were heard the guns of Grouchy; the 
 sound seemed to draw nearer. The Emperor, 
 counting too much on Grouchy always, be- 
 lieved that at last his tardy lieutenant was en- 
 gaged with the bulk of the Prussian army, 
 and that he himself would have to deal with 
 the corps of Biilow only. 
 
 The Emperor swept the field of battle with 
 his glass. On the right, Durutte's division 
 held Papelotte and La Haye and was advanc- 
 ing up the slope toward the English line. On 
 the left, Jerome had stormed the burning 
 chateau of Hougoumont, and the Lancers 
 had crossed the Nivelles road. In the center, 
 and above La Haye-Sainte, the French were 
 driving the enemy along the Ohain road. 
 The valley was crowded with the wrecks of 
 broken French regiments. 
 
 Placing himself at the head of nine batta- 
 lions of the Old Guard, Napoleon led it down 
 into the valley, spoke to his men briefly, and 
 launched them against the enemy. It was 
 too late. A deserter had given Wellington full 
 notice of the preparations for the attack and 
 he had thrown reinforcements into the weak 
 portions of his line. The arrival of Zeiten's 
 
WATERLOO 119 
 
 Prussians relieved the flanking squadrons of 
 Vivian and Vandeleur, and Wellington now 
 had 2,600 fresh horsemen to throw into the 
 fight. 
 
 At full gallop, the Prussian Commissioner 
 to the Allies, Muffling, rode to Zeiten, ex- 
 claiming, "The battle is lost if you do not go 
 to the Duke's rescue." 
 
 On came the Prussians, striking the French 
 flank from Smohain, and in spite of all the 
 personal exertions of the Emperor, a panic 
 spread throughout that part of his army. 
 
 Couriers had been sent all along the line 
 to tell the French that Grouchy was ap- 
 proaching. Yet the battle on the right where 
 Lobau and the Young Guard were struggling 
 to keep Billow back must have been known 
 to thousands of the troops. Then, when 
 they actually saw the Prussians taking them 
 in flank, all their fears of treachery were in- 
 tensified and they were filled with terror. 
 
 But the Emperor had raised his arm to 
 strike the enemy one final blow and he could 
 not stay his hand. Even had he tried to re- 
 call Ney, D'Erlon, Reille, it is doubtful 
 whether the situation would have been im- 
 proved. There was so much confusion, so 
 
120 WATERLOO 
 
 many shattered commands, that an orderly 
 retreat had become impossible. 
 
 Encouraged by the report that Grouchy 
 had come, the charging columns shouted 
 ^'Vwe VEmpereur!'' and passed on. 
 
 Freeing himself from the fifth horse which 
 had been shot under him that day, the daunt- 
 less Ney went forward on foot, sword in 
 hand. Losing terribly at every step, the 
 French advanced up the slope. They took 
 some batteries, they almost gained the Crest; 
 but suddenly Maitland's Guards, 2,000 
 strong, sprang up out of the wheat where they 
 had been lying concealed, and poured a deadly 
 volley into the French. Why was there no 
 officer with presence of mind enough to cry 
 then, ^'Give them the bayonef'f That was 
 the one hope of the French. Instead of do- 
 ing this, the officers tried to place the men in 
 line so as to exchange volleys with the enemy. 
 Fatal mistake. Wellington, noting the con- 
 fusion and the hesitation, took advantage of 
 it like a good soldier. 
 
 "Up, Guards, and at 'em !" cried the Duke. 
 
 "Forward, boys, now is your time!" cried 
 Colonel Saltoun. 
 
 The French, fighting frantically, were beat- 
 en back to the orchard of Hougoumont. 
 
WATERLOO 121 
 
 Here a fresh battalion (4th Chasseurs) 
 came to the rehef of the retreating French, 
 and the Enghsh returned rapidly to their own 
 lines. 
 
 Once more the Old Guard moves up the 
 muddy slope, under the tremendous cannon- 
 ade of the English guns. As they cross the 
 Ohain road, an Enghsh brigade opens four 
 lines of fire upon their flank; Maitland's 
 Guards and Halkett's brigade oppose them 
 in front; and a Hanoverian brigade, coming 
 from the hedges of Hougoumont, fire upon 
 them from the rear. The finishing blow is 
 Colborn's charge with fixed bayonets. 
 
 "The guard gives way!" rings over the 
 battlefield — a wail of despair, of terror. 
 
 "Treachery!" is the cry throughout the 
 field. 
 
 Now is the time to make an end of this 
 panic-stricken army, and Wellington, spurring 
 to the crest, waves his hat — the signal for an 
 advance all along the line. 
 
 As night closes in, the English army, 
 40,000 strong, rush down the bloody, corpse- 
 strewn slope, trampling the wounded and the 
 dead, crying, "No Quarter!" 
 
 The drum, the bugle, the bagpipe quicken 
 the march of the English and the flight of the 
 
122 WATERLOO 
 
 French. Making no stand at La Haye- 
 Sainte, none at Hougoumont, none anywhere, 
 the French army, already honeycombed with 
 suspicion, dissolves in terror. Never had so 
 strong a war-weapon shown itself so brittle. 
 
 Napoleon was at La Haye-Sainte, forming 
 another column of attack which he meant to 
 lead in person, when he looked up and saw 
 the Old Guard falter and stop. 
 
 "They are confused. All is lost I" Hop- 
 ing to stem the tide of the English advance 
 and to establish rallying points for his flying 
 troops, he formed four squares from a column 
 of the Old Guard which had not been engag- 
 ed. These he posted above La Haye-Sainte. 
 As the English horsemen came on, they 
 dashed in vain against these walls of steel 
 and fire. But nothing so frail as four squares 
 could arrest the advance of 40,000 men. 
 The English cavalry poured through the gaps 
 which separated the squares and continued 
 their headlong pursuit of the terrified French. 
 
 When the English infantry came up and 
 raked the squares with musketry; when the 
 English batteries began to hail grapeshot up- 
 on them, the Emperor gave the order to aban- 
 don the position. Attended by a small es- 
 
WATERLOO 123 
 
 cort he galloped to the height of La Belle 
 Alliance. 
 
 The three squares fell back, slowly, stead- 
 ily, surrounded on all sides by the enemy. 
 With the regularity of the paradeground 
 these matchless soldiers of the Old Guard 
 halted to fire, to reform their ranks, and then 
 move on again. 
 
 "Fugitives from the battlefield looked back 
 from the distance and marked the progress of 
 the retreat by the regular flash of these guns." 
 On that black valley of death and vast mis- 
 fortune it was the repeated flashes of light- 
 ning irradiating a stormcloud. 
 
 tilled with admiration and sympathy, let 
 us hope, an English officer cried out, "Sur- 
 render!" 
 
 And Cambronne shot out the word which 
 Victor Hugo indecently glorified, but which 
 with convincing emphasis spurned the very 
 thought of surrender. The squares, unbrok- 
 en, reached the summit of La Belle Alliance, 
 where Cambronne fell, apparently dead, from 
 a ball which struck him in the face. 
 
 It was here that the Prussians, who had at 
 last broken in on the right, bore down on the 
 squares. Assailed by overwhelming odds — 
 
124 WATERLOO 
 
 Infantry, artillery, cavalry — they were de- 
 stroyed. 
 
 Several hundred yards back there were 
 two battalions of the Old Guard, formed in 
 squares. Within one of these squares was 
 the Emperor. Planting a battery of 12- 
 pounders, he made a final effort to check the 
 pursuit and to rally his troops. The Guard's 
 call to arms was sounded, but the fugitives 
 continued to pour by and none rallied. The 
 battery exhausted its ammunition and the gun- 
 ners, refusing to fly, were cut down by the 
 English hussars. 
 
 Upon the squares themselves the enemy 
 could make no impression until overpower- 
 ing masses of Prussian and English infantry 
 came up. Then the Emperor ordered a re- 
 treat. In good order these veterans marched 
 off the field, stopping from time to time to 
 fire a volley upon their pursuers. 
 
 At the farm of Le Caillou the battalion 
 formed in column, and on its flank slowly 
 rode the Emperor, reeling with fatigue, so 
 that he had to be supported in the saddle. 
 His bridle reins were loose upon his horse's 
 neck. 
 
CHAPTER IX 
 
 As the moon came out that night, her cold 
 face was hateful to the fleeing French, for it 
 lit the roads for the merciless pursuers. 
 
 The exhausted English had halted at La 
 Belle Alliance. 
 
 The Prussians came thundering on, and 
 the two victors, Wellington and Bliicher, em- 
 braced. Each called the other the winner of 
 the day. Justly so — for each was the win- 
 ner. To success both had been necessary. 
 
 The Prussians had made a most fatiguing 
 march in the morning, and had fought with 
 desperation for many hours, but they alone 
 had strength left for the pursuit. Welling- 
 ton's troops fell down among the dying and 
 the dead, to rest and sleep. But not until 
 they had cheered the Prussians passing by. 
 "Hip, hip, hurrah!" shout the English, while 
 the bands play. 
 
 The Prussians go by, singing Luther's 
 hymn, "Now praise we all our God." 
 
 And then these devout Christians hot-foot 
 upon the track of other Christians, hurry on 
 to a moonlight hunt — vast, terrible, murder- 
 
126 WATERLOO 
 
 ous. These Prussians remember the pursuit 
 after Jena; yes, and the pursuit after Aus- 
 terlitz; yes, and the long years of French 
 military occupation of the Fatherland. And 
 now it is their turn. 
 
 "As long as man and horse can go — push 
 the pursuit!" cried Bliicher. 
 
 Not a great many Prussians are needed. 
 A few cannon to make a noise, a few bugles 
 to sound the charge, a few drums to send 
 terror ahead — these, with about 4,500 
 troops, will be quite sufficient to chase Napo- 
 leon's army like a flock of sheep. 
 
 Forty thousand Frenchmen, unwounded, as 
 brave a lot of men as ever stepped into line, 
 ■are now so crushed by unexpected disaster, so 
 filled with the terror of sheer panic, that no 
 human power can check their stampede. 
 
 Ney has tried it, vainly. Napoleon has 
 tried it, vainly. They abandon the artillery, 
 they throw away their guns, they cast off their 
 accouterments, intent only on running for 
 dear life. They cut through the fields, they 
 fight for passage on the road, they murder 
 one another in their frantic efforts to get on. 
 
 The Prussians chase them, cut them down, 
 ride over them — the roads, the fields, the 
 woods are strewn with slaughtered French- 
 
TVATERLOO 127 
 
 men. If any stand Is made and a few of the 
 nrmer rally, the first blare of Prussian trump- 
 ets sets them running again. The 4,500 
 Prussians dwindle, as the chase lengthens, un- 
 til scarcely a thousand pursue. But the 
 French have lost their senses. The mere 
 blare of a Prussian bugle throws them into 
 agonies of fright. One drummer-boy, gal- 
 loping on horseback, a dozen cavalrymen to 
 yell the Prussian "Hourra !" are enough to 
 keep the stampede going. 
 
 "No quarter!" cry the pursuers. Yet af- 
 ter Ligny Napoleon had gone, in person, to 
 take care of the Prussian wounded, and had 
 threatened the Belgian peasants with the ter- 
 rors of hell if they did not succor these suf- 
 ferers. "God bids us love our enemies," said 
 the Emperor to these peasants. "Take care 
 of the wounded, or God will make you burn." 
 But the English had cried "No quarter!" as 
 they charged down from Mont-Saint-Jean, 
 and now the Prussians are repeating the cry 
 and slaughtering, with indiscriminate fury, 
 those who surrender, those who are wounded 
 and those who are overtaken. 
 
 So mad is the panic of the French that at 
 Gemappe, where the little river Dyle is only 
 about fifteen feet wide and three feet deep. 
 
128 WATERLOO 
 
 ttley have a frightful crush at the narrow 
 bridge and never once think of wading across. 
 
 Here, once more Napoleon vainly endeav- 
 ors to stop the rout. The Prussians appear, 
 beat the drum, blow the trumpets, fire can- 
 non, and the thousands of Frenchmen fight 
 madly with each other for the privilege 
 of running away. They slash each other 
 with their swords, stab each other with their 
 bayonets, and even shoot each other down. 
 
 To appreciate the state of mind of this 
 fleeing army it is necessary that one should 
 have a good idea of what happens to the 
 crowd in a packed theater when the red 
 tongues of the flames are seen in the hangings 
 and the cry of ^^ Fir el FireF^ smites the start- 
 led ear. The horrible scene which invariably 
 follows is the outcome of exactly the uncon- 
 trollable, unreasoning terror which made the 
 flight from Napoleon's last battlefield such a 
 disgrace to human nature. 
 
 The moon which held a light for the pur- 
 suit silvered also the slopes where the great 
 battle had been fought, shone upon the un- 
 buried corpses that still lay at Ligny and 
 Quatre Bras, shone upon 25,000 Frenchmen, 
 6,000 Prussians, and 10,000 of the English 
 
WATERLOO 129 
 
 army, who lay on the field of Waterloo ; shone 
 also upon other thousands who lay dead or 
 dying on the futile battle-ground of Wavre. 
 Within three days and within the narrow 
 radius of a few miles more than 70,000 men 
 had been shot down — for what? 
 
 For what? To force upon the French a 
 King and a system which they detested, and 
 to prevent the spread of democratic principles 
 to other countries where kings and aristoc- 
 racies were In power. 
 
 Creasy numbers Waterloo among the 
 Twelve Decisive Battles of the World, but 
 it does not deserve the rank. It did not give 
 democratic principles anything more than a 
 temporary set-back. It did not permanently 
 restore the Bourbons. It did not even keep 
 the Bonaparte heir off the throne. Much 
 less did it settle the principle that one nation 
 may dictate to another its form of govern- 
 ment. 
 
 In his old age, Wellington was asked to 
 write his Memoirs. "No," he answered. 
 "It wouldn't do. If I were to tell what I 
 know, the people would tear me to pieces." 
 
 I think I understand. If the ruling oli- 
 garchs of England, — Eldon, Castlereagh, 
 9 
 
I30 WATERLOO 
 
 Pitt, Canning, Liverpool, Bathurst, — had 
 revealed the inner secrets of the Tory admin- 
 istration, the last one of them would have 
 been torn to pieces — deservedly. 
 
 The man-hunt rolls off toward the Sambre, 
 the drum dies away in the distance, the horror 
 of the retreat goes farther and farther away, 
 — while the moon looks down upon the Eng- 
 lish army, asleep on La Belle Alliance, upon 
 the blood-stained valleys and slopes that lead 
 to Mont-Saint-Jean, upon the smouldering 
 ruins of Hougoumont, of La Haye-Sainte, of 
 Papelotte, of Plancenoit. There are dead men 
 everywhere. Everywhere are dying men, 
 dismounted cannons, broken swords, aban- 
 doned guns and knapsacks, dead horses, and 
 mangled horses that scream as they struggle 
 with pain and death, wounded men who moan 
 and groan and curse their fate. 
 
 A mile wide and two miles long, this strip 
 of hell writhes beneath the unpitying stars; 
 and perhaps the most awful sound that shocks 
 the ear and the soul is that choked yell of ter- 
 ror and agony of the officer who is being 
 clubbed to death with a musket by the night 
 prowler who wants the officer'§ watch, deco- 
 ratiorivS and money. 
 
WATERLOO 131 
 
 Enter the ground of the Chateau of Hou- 
 goumont, pass the shattered buildings and go 
 into the flower garden. Here was once the 
 beauty of nature and the beauty of art, com- 
 bined. This morning, when the sun broke 
 through the mists, these formal walks were 
 bordered by the bloom of flowers; these 
 balustraded terraces were fragrant with the 
 Incense of the orange and the myrtle. The 
 birds were singing in the garden overhead, 
 along these quiet covered walks in the old 
 Flemish garden, vine clad with honey-suckle 
 and jessamine, where many a word of love 
 had been spoken as lovers wandered here in 
 years long past. 
 
 And now It Is one of the frightful spots 
 of the world, reeking with blood, cumbered 
 with dead and dying men, torn by shells, gut- 
 ted by fire. The well is ever so deep and ever 
 so large, but is never so deep nor so large as 
 to hold all the dead and the dying. To- 
 morrow it will be filled. The dauntless de- 
 fenders and the fearless assailants will em- 
 brace In the harmony of a common grave. 
 And for many and many a year the peasant 
 at his fireside at night will tell, in hushed 
 tones, of the sounds — the groans, the faint 
 
132 WATERLOO 
 
 calls for help — which are said to have been 
 heard coming from the well, nights after its 
 hasty filling in. 
 
 Few partisans of Napoleon now contend 
 that he was free from serious fault in this, 
 his last campaign. 
 
 First of all, he should have made his appeal 
 to the people, put himself once more at their 
 head as the hero of the French Revolution, 
 remained in France, and nationalized the 
 war. 
 
 Again, he should not have placed two such 
 generals as Vandamme and Gerard under 
 Grouchy. 
 
 He showed no vigor in following up his 
 victory at Ligny, and made a capital error in 
 not breaking up the retreating foe with caval- 
 ry charges. 
 
 He lost a great opportunity at Quatre 
 Bras. 
 
 On the night of the 17th he should have 
 sent definite orders to Grouchy, and should 
 have hearkened to Soult when he was urged 
 by that thorough soldier to call in at least a 
 portion of Grouchy's force. 
 
 He took the reports of Haxo and Ney, and 
 
WATERLOO 133 
 
 based the battle upon their erroneous reports. 
 The Napoleon of earlier years would have 
 gone to see for himself. 
 
 He did not have a good view of the field 
 and consequently missed detailed movements 
 of immense importance. 
 
 He treated with too much scorn the opinion 
 of Soult and Reille (who had tested the Eng- 
 lish soldier in Spain), when they warned him 
 that the English, properly posted and proper- 
 ly handled — as Wellington could handle them 
 — were invincible. 
 
 He made the attack without maneuvering, 
 in just the bare-breasted, full-face way that 
 best lent itself to bloody repulse. 
 
 The premature cavalry movement which 
 contributed most to the final disaster was un- 
 der full headway, — too far advanced to be 
 stopped, — before he knew that it was con- 
 templated. 
 
 In holding off the Prussians, the Emperor 
 displayed his genius, directing every move- 
 ment himself. On the field of Waterloo, he 
 left too much to Ney and Jerome. Had he 
 taken Ney out of the fight at the time that he 
 recalled Jerome, the issue might have been 
 different. 
 
 The last grand charge should not have been 
 
134 WATERLOO 
 
 made at all. He should have stopped, as 
 Lee did at Gettysburg, in time to save his 
 army, for by this time he knew that Grouchy 
 would not come. To stake so much on one 
 last desperate throw was the act of a man 
 who was no longer what he had been at As- 
 pern and Essling when he withdrew into the 
 Island of Lobau. 
 
 When the Emperor was giving the order 
 for the last great charge. General Haxo 
 would have remonstrated. "But, Sire — " he 
 began. Napoleon flapped his glove lightly 
 across Haxo's face and said, "Hold your 
 tongue, my friend. There is Grouchy who 
 will give us other news." He had mistaken 
 Billow's cannonade for Grouchy's. 
 
 One can understand what was passing in 
 his mind when he said to Gourgaud, a few 
 weeks later, "Ah, if it were to be done over 
 again!" 
 
 On Wellington's side the management was 
 superb. It was practically faultless. He 
 made the most of every advantage, and made 
 the most of the errors of his enemy. 
 
 With this exception: He left 18,000 of 
 his men at Hal, four or five miles away, pro- 
 tecting a road which he feared the French 
 might take. But with Napoleon facing him. 
 
WATERLOO 135 
 
 here at Mont-Saint-Jean, the 18,000 men 
 were no longer needed at Hal ; and no one has 
 ever been able to explain why Wellington did 
 not call them in during the early morning of 
 the 1 8 th. 
 
 In other books than this you will read of 
 how the wreck of Napoleon, the man, and the 
 wreck of Napoleon, the Emperor, found their 
 way to Paris; how the well-meaning but 
 weak-headed La Fayette, dreaming of an im- 
 possible Republic, worked in reality for the 
 Bourbon restoration in working against Na- 
 poleon; how the Chambers, honeycombed by 
 the intrigues of Fouche, demanded the second 
 abdication; how the wreck of Napoleon 
 floated aimlessly down the current of misfor- 
 tune; how he signed away his throne; how 
 the masses thronged about his palace, wildly 
 clamoring for him to put himself at the head 
 of a national uprising; how he sends his 
 empty coach and six through the mob, and 
 makes off by the back way in a cab ; how he 
 stops at Malmaison, weeps for his lost Jose- 
 phine, listens to all kinds of counsel, takes 
 none, and has no plan; how the soldiers, 
 marching past in straggling detachments, 
 cheer him with the same old enthusiasm, and 
 
136 WATERLOO 
 
 how he calmly remarks, "They had better 
 have stood and fought at Waterloo." 
 
 Napoleon was no longer the volcanic man 
 of action, of connected Ideas, of sustained 
 exertion, of Inflexible purpose. The Water- 
 loo campaign had been a sputtering of the 
 candle In the socket — a brief eruption of a 
 Vesuvius that made Europe quiver; and then 
 all was over. 
 
 From Malmalson he Is ordered off by 
 Fouche, and he meekly obeys. At Rochefort 
 he dawdles, doubts, delays, and does nothing. 
 Logically, he becomes a prisoner to those by 
 whom he has been beaten. 
 
 To St. Helena, and a few years of torture ; 
 to hopeless captivity and the bitter Inbrooding 
 that eat the heart out; to the depths of hu- 
 miliation and the canker of Impotent rage; 
 to weary days of depression and dreary nights 
 of pain; to a long agony of vain regrets, of 
 wrath against fate, of soul-racking memor- 
 ies — to these go Napoleon Bonaparte, the 
 greatest man ever born of woman. 
 
 At last, the reprieve comes. At last there 
 comes the day when the little man can no 
 longer torture the big one. Sir Hudson Lowe 
 may at length rest easy — the sweat of the 
 final pain gathers on his captive's brow. 
 
WATERLOO 137 
 
 English sentinels may slacken their vigilance 
 now — the death rattle is in the prisoner's 
 throat. 
 
 The storm comes up from out the wrathful 
 sea, and the terrible anger of the tempest 
 beats upon the tropical rock. The thunder, 
 peal on peal, volleys over the crags, and the 
 glare of the lightning lights up the track of 
 devastation. Within the renovated cow- 
 house, and within a room which will soon be 
 used again as a cow-stall, is stretched the 
 dying warrior. 
 
 What was it that the storm said to the un- 
 conscious soldier? By what mysterious law, 
 yet to be made plain, does the sub-conscious- 
 ness move and speak when deep sleep or the 
 delirium of disease has paralyzed the normal 
 consciousness of man? We do not know. 
 In poetry, the sub-conscious produces the 
 weird "Kubla Khan"; in music it notates 
 "The Devil's Sonata." It is the sub-con- 
 scious which often gives warning of evil to 
 come; it is the sub-conscious that sometimes 
 tells us the right road when all is doubt. 
 
 As the thunder volleyed over Longwood, 
 and the roar of the storm held on, the dying 
 Captain was strangely affected. Just such 
 
138 WATERLOO 
 
 thunder had rolled over his head that Satur- 
 day night and Sunday morning, when he went 
 the rounds of his outposts in the drenching 
 rain — which may have been the main cause 
 of his loss of Waterloo. He and the faithful 
 Bertrand had made those night-rounds alone, 
 and Napoleon, as he stopped to listen to the 
 thunder, muttered, "We agree." 
 
 It must have been that in his delirium he 
 fancied he was again on the front line, listen- 
 ing to the storm which preceded his last bat- 
 tle. 
 
 "The Army ! The head of the Army !" he 
 muttered. "Desaix! Bessieres! Hasten 
 the attack ! Press on ! The enemy gives 
 way — they are ours !" 
 
 With a convulsive start he sprang up, out 
 of the bed, and got upon his feet. Monthol- 
 on seized him, but he bore the Count to the 
 floor. Others rushed in; he was already 
 exhausted, and they put him back in bed. 
 Afterward he lay still, and the boat drifted 
 on, quietly on, toward the bar. 
 
 The storm had passed away, and the Em- 
 peror, lying on his back, with one hand out 
 of the bed, fixed his eyes "as though in deep 
 meditation." 
 
 Those about the bed thought they heard 
 
WATERLOO 139 
 
 him say, "France! Josephine!" Then he 
 spoke no more. 
 
 A light foam gathered on the parted lips. 
 There was peace on his face — for the pain 
 had done what it came to do. 
 
 As the clear sun dipped beneath the distant 
 rim of the sea, Napoleon died. 
 
 It was May 5th, 1821. 
 
 In Hillaire Belloc's magnificent study of 
 Danton, the author makes reference to a leg- 
 end which is said to be current among the 
 peasants of Russia. 
 
 It is a story of "a certain somber, mounted 
 figure, unreal, only an outline and a cloud, 
 that passed away to Asia, to the East and 
 North. They saw him move along their 
 snows through the long, mysterious twilight 
 of the Northern autumn, in silence, with the 
 head bent and the reins in the left hand, loose, 
 following some enduring purpose, reaching to- 
 ward an ancient solitude and repose. They 
 say that it was Napoleon. After him, there 
 trailed for days the shadows of the soldiery, 
 vague mists bearing faintly the forms of com- 
 panies of men. It was as though the cannon- 
 smoke of Waterloo, borne on the light west 
 wind of that June day, had received the spirits 
 
I40 WATERLOO 
 
 of twenty years of combat, and had drifted 
 farther and farther during the fall of the year 
 over the endless plains. 
 
 "But there was no voice and no order. 
 The terrible tramp of the Guard and the 
 sound that Heine loved, the dance of the 
 French drums, was extinguished; there was 
 no echo of their songs, for the army was of 
 ghosts and was defeated. They passed in the 
 silence which we can never pierce, and some- 
 where remote from men they sleep in bivouac 
 round the most splendid of human swords." 
 
A SUPPLEMENTARY CHAPTER 
 BLUCHER 
 
 ''Captain Bliicher has full permission to 
 resign, and to go to the devil, if he likes." 
 
 Thus endorsed by Frederick the Great, 
 Captain Bliicher's written request for leave 
 to retire from the Prussian Army went into 
 
 effect. 
 
 Yet this headstrong, boisterous, hard- 
 drinking, hard-riding, hard-fighting, indefati- 
 gable Bliicher became one of the most thor- 
 ough and effective soldiers that ever led an 
 army to battle. He possessed some of those 
 very qualities which made Washington, 
 Cromwell, and Frederick so great. He was 
 tireless, he was iron-willed, he was true-heart- 
 ed, he was fearless, he was not to^ be dis- 
 couraged, and he never could be whipped so 
 badly that he did not come back to fight again, 
 harder than ever. 
 
 Something of a national hero, something of 
 a typical German soldier, something of an 
 ideal patriot, he was something of a ruthless 
 Goth. He had gone to England after the 
 
142 WATERLOO 
 
 Campaign of Paris, In 1814, and rode con- 
 spicuously In the great procession through 
 London. As he looked upon the wealth dis- 
 played on every side, he growled, "What a 
 town to sack." Yet he was a devoted hus- 
 band, a most loyal subject; a generous, faith- 
 ful, daring ally. • 
 
 He had fought against the French a 
 greater number of times than any other com- 
 mander. He had been whipped oftener and 
 harder than any other commander. He had 
 been captured, and had grazed annihilation 
 oftener than any other commander. 
 
 After Jena, his king owed his escape from 
 being made prisoner to a bold falsehood — to 
 General Klein — that an armistice had been de- 
 clared. At Bautzen he just did get out of the 
 trap Napoleon laid for him, and he did It 
 because Ney, In making the turning move- 
 ment, stopped to do some fighting which gave 
 the Prussian his warning. In 18 14 he just 
 did miss being bagged time and again — but 
 he missed It. And now In 18 15 his pluck, 
 his dash, and his luck were to save him, as by 
 fire, again and again. He was beloved by 
 his troops. Wherever he sent them, he was 
 ready to go himself. He shirked nothing, 
 and was whole-hearted In everything. Like 
 
WATERLOO 143 
 
 the Russian soldier, Skobeleff, he was sublime 
 on the field of battle, and led his men in per- 
 son. With a kindly word, ''Come, com- 
 rades, follow me!" he could lead them into 
 the jaws of hell. With a plea like this, 
 "Comrades, I gave my word to be there; you 
 woru't make me break it!" — he could inspire 
 them to superhuman efforts, to drag the heavy 
 guns through the mud, and thus reach his 
 ally in time to save. 
 
 Heading a cavalry charge at Ligny, his 
 horse was shot under him, and the French 
 passed over him twice — once in advancing, 
 once in retreating — and the darkness was his 
 friend each time. Dragged by one of his 
 officers from under his horse, he was borne off 
 the field bruised, almost unconscious. In two 
 days, he is leading charges again. Too gen- 
 erous to suspect an ally, he stands and fights 
 at Ligny on Wellington's promise of support, 
 and when the support doesn't come he still 
 does not suspect his ally of calculating selfish- 
 ness. His staff does. Hence it was that his 
 staff opposed him when he wished to yield 
 to Wellington's plea for help, on the night of 
 the 17th. Long did Gneisenau resist 
 Bliicher, contending that Wellington meant 
 to leave them in the lurch again. But at 
 
144 WATERLOO 
 
 length the chief of staff consented that the 
 promise of relief be sent, and old Bliicher was 
 happy. The promise was sent, and Welling- 
 ton knew it would be kept ! Hence he fought 
 at Waterloo, with the knowledge that his task 
 consisted in holding out until the Prussians 
 could arrive. 
 
 The heroic struggle of Bliicher to make 
 progress over the terrible roads, his enormous 
 energy, his magnificent devotion to the com- 
 mon cause, his unselfish renunciation of credit 
 for the victory which was due to him more 
 than to Wellington, raise him to the pinnacle 
 of military glory. No student of this last 
 campaign of Napoleon can fail to reach the 
 conclusion that while Wellington was delay- 
 ing at Brussels, sending out orders not suited 
 to the condition of things at the front, and 
 taking his supper at Lady Richmond's ball, 
 it was Bliicher who was where he should have 
 been, and doing what he should have done. 
 But for the skilful retreat of Thielman, fol- 
 lowed by the bold concentration at Ligny and 
 the stubborn fight there, the French would 
 have gone into Brussels without firing a shot. 
 
 On the night of the i8th, Bliicher followed 
 the pursuit as far as Genappe, where his 
 strength gave out. He went into the inn to 
 
WATERLOO 145 
 
 go to bed, but before undressing, wrote his 
 wife: 
 
 "On the 1 6th I was compelled to withdraw 
 before superior forces, but on the i8th, in con- 
 cert with my friend Wellington, I have an- 
 nihilated the army of Napoleon." 
 
 To a friend he wrote : 
 
 "The finest of battles has been fought, the 
 most brilliant of victories won. I think that 
 Bonaparte's history is ended. I cannot write 
 any more, for I am trembling in every limb. 
 The strain was too great." 
 
 Bliicher was seventy-three years old. 
 Napoleon and Wellington were nearly the 
 same age, both being born in 1769, and there- 
 fore forty-seven years old. 
 
 Bliicher was notoriously a hard drinker, 
 and had been so all his life. Both Napoleon 
 and Wellington were extremely sober men; 
 yet Bliicher had shown more energy than the 
 other two together. 
 
 NEY 
 
 A mournful interest must always attach to 
 
 Ney. 
 
 10 
 
146 WATERLOO 
 
 As Napoleon said, his "Bravest of the 
 Brave" was no longer the same man. First 
 of all, in this campaign he was not handled 
 right. The Emperor should have employed 
 him sooner, or not at all: should have 
 trusted him further, or not at all. The man- 
 ner in which he was caught up at the last 
 moment and cast into the activities of the 
 campaign was most unwise. 
 
 In spite of the bad behavior of Ney in 
 1 8 14, the troops were glad to see him in their 
 midst. Their nickname for him was "Red- 
 head," and they called him this to each other 
 as they saw him join the Emperor at Beau- 
 mont. "All will go well now — Red-head 
 is with us!" 
 
 But Ney was not at himself. There is no 
 other phrase that will do, — all of us know 
 what it means. When the orator w^hom we 
 know to be a heaven-born orator fails to move 
 us, we say, "He is not at himself." When 
 the brilliant writer is dull; when the expert 
 mechanic is awkward; when the painter's 
 brush misses the conception, when the sculp- 
 tor's chisel cannot follow his thoughts, when 
 the master musician makes discord, we have 
 nothing better to say than "He is not at him- 
 self." 
 
WATERLOO 147 
 
 So It was with Marshal Ney. Advancing 
 upon Quatre Bras, he stopped, afraid of go- 
 ing too far. When had Ney been timid be- 
 fore ? 
 
 Realizing at length what was expected of 
 him, he fought furiously to take the position 
 which would have been his without a fight 
 had he simply not stopped In sudden fear 
 the evening before. Then, having been the 
 Ney of old on the i6th, he became timid 
 again on the morning of the 17th, and let 
 Wellington draw off without any attempt to 
 molest the retreat. Why no reports to the 
 Emperor all that day of the i6th? Why 
 none on the night of the i6th? Very near 
 to the treason for which officers are shot, was 
 this sullen silence. He was not at himself. 
 Then at Waterloo, the Ney of old comes out 
 again. He Is not only bold, but rash. He Is 
 possessed of a devil of fight. He Is no longer 
 a general: he is just a reckless brigadier. 
 Headlong charges, blind rushes, frantic man- 
 agement which Is calamitous mismanagement; 
 premature sacrifice of cavalry, false forma- 
 tion of columns of attack, then wild rage and 
 despair, and prayers for death! The soldier 
 never lived that fought harder and longer 
 than Ney at Waterloo. As darkness closed 
 
148 WATERLOO 
 
 down, and the torrents of retreat ran past 
 him, this heroic and Ill-starred soldier, his 
 face black with powder smoke, his uniform 
 in tatters, the blood oozing from bruises, a 
 broken sword in his hand, cried out, "Come 
 and see how a Marshal of France dies!" 
 But alas, the flood of disaster bore him away, 
 and this leonine Frenchman was left to make 
 a target for French muskets. All of Ney's 
 horses had been killed under him, and he 
 owed his life — a bad debt, as it turned out — 
 to a faithful subaltern. 
 
 The restored Bourbons were determined 
 to put Ney to death. Instead of leaving his 
 fate in the hands of his old companions in 
 arms, as his lawyer wanted him to do, Ney 
 foolishly gave preference to a trial by the 
 civilians of the Chamber of Peers. This tri- 
 bunal condemned him, and he was shot. So 
 says History. 
 
 But Tradition is persistent in claiming that 
 the execution was a fake: that blank car- 
 tridges were fired, that Ney fell unhurt, and 
 that his body was spirited away, and that he 
 was shipped off to America, and that he lived 
 in North Carolina, a school-teacher, until he 
 died a natural death. 
 
WATERLOO 149 
 
 Many a time I have ridiculed this tradi- 
 tion, and marshaled in convincing array the 
 evidence against it. I must confess, however, 
 that a statement in the book of Sir William 
 Fraser, called "Wellington's Words," 
 startled me. He expresses a doubt as to the 
 genuineness of the execution of Marshal Ney, 
 and Sir William, was close to Wellington. 
 Indeed, the account which Sir WilHam gives 
 of the alleged execution is somewhat sugges- 
 tive of a mock execution. 
 
 It was a beautiful morning, and the Gar- 
 den of the Luxembourg was filled with child- 
 ren, attended by their nurses, taking the 
 morning air, amid the trees and birds and 
 flowers. A closed carriage drove up to the 
 gate and four men, leaving the carriage, en- 
 tered the garden. One was Marshal Ney, 
 the others an ofiicer and two sergeants. The 
 officer placed Ney against the wall, called 
 the picket guarding the gate, gave the word 
 "Fire!" and Ney fell on his face. The body 
 was immediately put into the carriage and 
 driven off. The nurses and the children had 
 not realized what was happening. Says Sir 
 William Fraser (who had this account from 
 Quentin Dick, an eye-witness), "I confess 
 
ISO WATERLOO 
 
 to have got a lingering doubt whether Ney 
 was shot to death." 
 
 But Sir William himself supplies a bit of 
 evidence which resettles my own conviction 
 that Ney was shot to death. The second 
 Duke of Wellington was invited by Queen 
 Victoria to meet at Windsor Castle the Em- 
 peror of the French. In the train of Louis 
 Napoleon, the French Emperor, was the son 
 of Marshal Ney. The Emperor said, "I 
 must introduce two great names," leading 
 the Duke of Wellington to the Prince of 
 Moscowa. The Duke made a low bow : the 
 Prince did not return it. He remembered 
 the murder of his father, and knew that the 
 first Duke of Wellington should have pre- 
 vented it. In answer to the Emperor's 
 whispered remonstrance, Ney's son firmly de- 
 clared that he did not wish to make the ac- 
 quaintance of Wellington's son. To my 
 mind this is conclusive. Had Ney's life been 
 saved by the first Duke of Wellington, as 
 Sir William Eraser broadly hints, two things 
 are certain : ( i ) Ney's son would have known 
 it, and (2) Ney's family would have grate- 
 fully honored Wellington's memory, instead 
 of detesting it. 
 
 No : the lion-like Ney did not teach school 
 
WATERLOO 151 
 
 In North Carolina; he died a dog's death 
 in the garden of the Luxembourg. A victim 
 to the cold perfidy of Wellington, a bloody 
 sacrifice to the vindictive ferocity of Bourbon 
 royalism, the magnificent French soldier was 
 shot to death by Frenchmen — shot like a 
 dog, and fell on his battle-worn face dead, 
 dead, while the song of birds was In the trees, 
 and the Innocent laughter of children rang in 
 his ears. Well did he say when they were 
 reading his death-sentence. In which all of his 
 high-sounding titles were being enumerated, 
 "Just Michel Ney — soon to be a handful of 
 dust." 
 
 Full of error, yet full of virtue : pure gold 
 at one crisis, mere dross at another; superbly 
 great on some occasions, and pitiably weak 
 on others; true as steel one day, unsubstan- 
 tial as water the next; dangerous to the 
 ,enemy on some fields, fatally dangerous to 
 Napoleon In the last campaign, the truth re- 
 mains that this strenuous soldier had been 
 fighting the battles of France all his life, had 
 never failed her at any trial, had never joined 
 her enemies, and must have died of heart- 
 break as well as bullet-wound when he heard 
 a French ofiicer give the word, and saw 
 
152 WATERLOO 
 
 French soldiers raise their guns to shoot him 
 down. 
 
 Honor to the son of Ney who refused to 
 take the hand of Wellington's son, although 
 a Queen was the hostess, and an Emperor 
 whispered a remonstrance ! 
 
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