The column commanded by the bravest of the brave, on his arrival in face of the enemy, was received by discharges of artillery, that occasioned it a terrible loss. Marshal Ney, weary of bullets, ordered the batteries to be carried by the bayonet. The grenadiers rushed on them with such impetuosity, that they neglected the admirable order, to which they had been so often indebted for victory. Their leader, intoxicated with intrepidity, did not perceive this disorder. He and his soldiers rushed on the enemy tumultuously. A shower of balls and grape burst on their heads. Ney's horse was shot under him, Generals Michel and Friant fell wounded or dead, and a number of brave fellows were stretched on the ground. Wellington did not allow our grenadiers time to recollect themselves. He caused them to be attacked in flank by his cavalry, and compelled them to retire in the greatest disorder. At the same instant the thirty thousand Prussians under Ziethen, who had been taken for Grouchy's army, carried by assault the village of La Haye, and drove our men before them. Our cavalry, our infantry, already staggered by the defeat of the middle guard, were afraid of being cut off, and precipitately retreated. The English horse, skilfully availing themselves of the confusion, which this unexpected retreat had occasioned, pierced through our ranks, and rendered them completely disordered and disheartened. The other troops of the right, who continued to resist with great difficulty the attacks of the Prussians, and who had been in want of ammunition above an hour, seeing some of our squadrons pell mell, and some of the guards running away, thought all was lost, and quitted their position. This contagious movement was communicated in an instant to the left; and the whole army, after having so valiantly carried the enemy's strongest posts, abandoned them with as much eagerness, as they had displayed ardour in conquering them.
The English army, which had advanced in proportion as we retreated, and the Prussians, who had not ceased to pursue us, fell at once on our scattered battalions; night increased the tumult and alarm; and soon the whole army was nothing but a confused crowd, which the English and Prussians routed without effort, and massacred without pity.
The Emperor, witnessing this frightful defection, could scarcely believe his eyes. His aides-de-camp flew to rally the troops in all directions. He also threw himself into the midst of the crowd. But his words, his orders, his entreaties, were not heard. How was it possible for the army to form anew under the guns, and amid the continual charges of eighty thousand English, and sixty thousand Prussians, who covered the field, of battle?
However, eight battalions, which the Emperor had previously collected, formed in squares, and stopped the way against the Prussian and English armies. These brave fellows, resolute and courageous as they were, could not long resist the efforts of an enemy twenty times their number. Surrounded, assaulted, cannonaded on all sides, most of them at length fell. Some sold their lives dearly: others, exhausted with fatigue, hunger, and thirst, had no longer strength to fight, and suffered themselves to be killed, without being able to make any defence. Two battalions[52] alone, whom the enemy were unable to break, retreated disputing the ground, till, thrown into disorder and hurried along by the general movement, they were obliged themselves to follow the stream.
One last battalion of reserve, the illustrious and unfortunate remains of the granite column of the fields of Marengo, had remained unshaken amid the tumultuous waves of the army. The Emperor retired into the ranks of these brave fellows, still commanded by Cambronne! He formed them into a square, and advanced at their head, to meet the enemy. All his generals, Ney, Soult, Bertrand, Drouot, Corbineau, de Flahaut, Labedoyère, Gourgaud, &c. drew their swords, and became soldiers. The old grenadiers, incapable of fear for their own lives, were alarmed at the danger that threatened the life of the Emperor. They conjured him to withdraw. "Retire," said one of them: "you see, that Death shuns you." The Emperor resisted, and ordered them to fire. The officers around him seized his bridle, and dragged him away. Cambronne and his brave fellows crowded round their expiring eagles, and bade Napoleon an eternal adieu. The English, moved by their heroic resistance, conjured them to surrender. "No," said Cambronne, "the guard can die, but not yield!" At the same moment they all rushed on the enemy, with shouts of "Long live the Emperor!" Their blows were worthy of the conquerors of Austerlitz, Jena, Wagram, and Montmirail. The English and Prussians, from whom they still detained the field of victory, united against this handful of heroes, and cut them down. Some, covered with wounds, fell to the ground weltering in their blood; others, more fortunate, were killed outright: in fine, they whose hopes were not answered by death, shot one another, that they might not survive their companions in arms, or die by the hands of their enemies.
Wellington and Blucher, thus become quiet possessors of the field of battle, traversed it as masters. But at what expense of blood was this unjust triumph purchased! Never, no never, were the blows of the French more formidable or more deadly to their adversaries. Thirsting after blood and glory, they rushed daringly on the blazing batteries of their enemy; and seemed to multiply in number, to seek, attack, and pursue them in their inaccessible intrenchments. Thirty thousand English or Prussians[53] were sacrificed by their hands on that fatal day; and when it is considered, that this horrible carnage was the work of fifty thousand men[54], dying with fatigue and hunger, and striving in miry ground against an impregnable position and a hundred and thirty thousand fighting men, we cannot but be seized with sorrowful admiration, and decree to the vanquished the palm of victory.
At the moment, when Bulow's corps penetrated our right, I was at head-quarters at the farm of Caillou.
One of the grand marshal's aides-de-camp came from him, to inform the Duke of Bassano, that the Prussians were proceeding in that direction. The duke, having received orders from the Emperor to remain there, would not quit the place, and we resigned ourselves to wait the event. In fact, the enemy's dragoons soon made themselves masters of the little wood, that covered the farm, and attacked our people sword in hand. Our guard repulsed them with their muskets; but, returning in greater number, they assailed us anew, and compelled us, in spite of the stoicism of M. de Bassano, to yield up the place to them very speedily. The imperial carriages, furnished with able horses, carried us rapidly from the enemy's pursuit. The duke was not so fortunate: his carriage, having poor horses, received several shots; and he was at length forced to escape on foot, and take refuge in mine.
The cessation of the firing, and the precipitate retreat of the wreck of the army, too powerfully confirmed to us the fatal issue of the battle. We inquired on all sides after the Emperor, but no one could satisfy our painful anxiety. Some assured us, that he had been taken prisoner; others, that he was killed. To put an end to the anxiety that overwhelmed us, I took the horse of the principal of our attendants (chef de nos équipages), and, accompanied by one of our principal piqueurs, named Chauvin, who had returned with Napoleon from the island of Elba, I hastened back toward Mont St. Jean. After having in vain wearied a multitude of officers with questions, I met a page, young Gudin, who assured me, that the Emperor must have quitted the field of battle. I still pushed on. Two cuirassiers, raising their sabres, stopped me. "Where are you going?"—"I am going to meet the Emperor."—"You lie; you are a royalist; you are going to rejoin the English." I know not how the business would have ended, had not a superior officer of the guard, sent by heaven, fortunately known me, and extricated me from the difficulty. He assured me, that the Emperor, whom he had escorted a long way, must be before. I returned to the Duke of Bassano. The certainty, that the Emperor was safe and sound, alleviated our sorrows for a few moments: but they soon resumed all their strength. He must have been no Frenchman, who could behold with dry eyes our dreadful catastrophe. The army itself, after recovering from its first impressions, forgot the perils with which it was still menaced, to meditate with sadness on the future. Its steps were dejected, its looks dismayed; not a word, not a complaint, was heard to interrupt its painful meditations. You would have said it was accompanying a funeral procession, and attending the obsequies of its glory and of its country.
The capture and plundering of the baggage of the army had suspended for a moment the enemy's pursuit. They came up with us at Quatre Bras, and fell upon our equipage. At the head of the convoy marched the military chest, and after it our carriage. Five other carriages, that immediately followed us, were attacked and sabred. Ours, by miracle, effected its escape. Here were taken the Emperor's clothes: the superb diamond necklace, that the princess Borghese had given him; and his landau, that in 1813 had escaped the disasters of Moscow.