The Story of the British Army

by Charles Cooper King

But now there was to be a change in the method of attack, and Milhaud’s Cuirassiers, forty squadrons strong, crossing from the right, advanced into the gap between La Haye Sainte and Hougomont,—a frontage of about 1000 yards only,—to attack in lines of columns the British and other regiments opposed to them, which threw themselves into squares. Thrice Milhaud attempted to break them, and, failing, was driven back by the British cavalry to re-form. Then, at 5 p.m., those who were left, together with Kellermann and Guyot, seventy-seven fresh squadrons in all, made the same desperate effort. But by six o’clock this too had failed. The ground was strewn with the bodies of horses, lancers, cuirassiers, carbiniers, chasseurs, horse grenadiers, hussars, light and heavy dragoons, and the mighty mass of horsemen was practically destroyed, and that mainly by infantry and artillery fire.

Now the Prussian army was fully en évidence. As early as 4.30, Bülow’s corps from Wavre had reached the field, and had so hotly engaged the French that Lobau’s corps and the cavalry division of Subervie and Daumont had been detached to oppose him; and by six o’clock they had to be reinforced, from Napoleon’s last reserve, by eight battalions of the Guard, or one-third its total strength, when Blucher had developed on, and in rear of, the French right flank, 29,000 infantry and 64 guns. The second attack on the centre by Ney occurred between five and six. It was mainly directed on La Haye Sainte, which was carried after desperate fighting, and the poor remnants of the King’s German Legion, who had fought magnificently until they were short of ammunition, were almost annihilated. Hougomont and the whole of the right centre had meanwhile been again assaulted, though without result; but when La Haye Sainte fell, the English centre was, for a brief space, broken. The French, pressing in, inflicted heavy losses on the brigades on either side of the Charleroi road, especially those of Ompteda and Kielmansegge. Between Halkett’s brigade on the west of the Charleroi road, and Kempt’s on the right, there was a great gap. So dire had been the slaughter, that at one time the duke, pointing to a mass of killed and wounded men of the 28th and 73rd, asked what square that was so far in advance. It was a critical moment in the battle.

But here Wellington’s coolness in the ordering of a battle stood him in good stead. Says Kennedy: “This very startling information he received with a degree of coolness, and replied to in an instant with such precision and energy as to prove the most complete self-possession, and left on my mind the impression that his Grace’s mind remained perfectly calm during every phase, however serious, of the action; that he felt confident of his own powers of being able to guide the storm which raged around him; and from the determined manner in which he then spoke, it was evident that he had resolved to defend, to the last extremity, every inch of the position which he then held. His Grace’s answer to my representation was in the following words, or very nearly so:—‘I shall order the Brunswick troops to the spot, and other troops besides. Go you and get all the German troops of the division to the spot that you can, and all the guns that you can find.’”

So the gap was filled and the danger ceased; but, “most fortunately, Napoleon did not support the advantage his troops had gained at this point by bringing forward his reserve, proving that he did not exert that activity and personal energy in superintending and conforming to the progress of the action, which he ought to have done.”

It was all too late now. Ney had pressed for reinforcements, to receive the reply, “Où voulez-vous que j’en prenne? Voulez-vous que j’en fasse?” How could he indeed? Blucher was close at hand now with three corps, and was forcing the French right and rear from Smohain to Planchenoit, with 52,000 infantry and 104 guns.

The fifth and last French attack was made at 7.30, with the Guard on the right centre, and these, with all other available divisions and the cavalry, made for the first time a general assault along the entire line.

Ten battalions of the Guard formed into two columns and pushed up the slopes between La Haye Sainte and Hougomont, covered by skirmishers; but the storm of fire in front, and especially in flank, by Colborne’s judicious management of the 52nd, was too severe. A gallant effort was made by the picked soldiery of France to crest the blood-stained, well-defended heights; but the game was played out, and “the Guard turned and fled.” “Tout est perdu,” said the half-broken host. “La Garde est répousée”; and even Napoleon at the failure of this final effort repeated the saying, and finished with, “Sauvons nous.” As the French fell back, the whole Allied line advanced, and though the defence of Planchenoit still continued up to this moment, that village too was carried, and the French army of Waterloo ceased to be, and fled in utter rout to France. It was eight o’clock, and by that time the loss since the passage of the Sambre amounted to at least 40,000 French, and 30,000 of the Allied troops.

No account of this great and most decisive battle is complete without a further reference to the Prussian co-operation, and the action Grouchy may have taken to interfere and prevent what, if it were successful, must have been decisive as to result. At the end, one French corps, some battalions of the Guard, and two cavalry divisions were face to face with some 50,000 men. It will be remembered that Grouchy had been despatched from Ligny late on the 17th, to prevent this very union of the Allied wings.

He was 33,000 strong, with 96 guns, and by 8 a.m. on the 18th, the morning of Waterloo, was nearing Wavre. It was at Sart-le-Walhain that he heard the cannon-roar of battle to his left. What was he to do? Nowadays he would have moved to the sound of the guns, and, however it might be matter of opinion, such a course would have, to say the least, not have lessened the helpfulness of the task his chief had given him. His object was to keep the Allies apart. What he did, did not. He attacked the Prussians in front of Wavre. To have crossed the Dyle above Wavre, difficult though it was, might have had two results. First, he would have turned the Prussian position there where the stream was less difficult. He must have isolated the corps at Wavre, and might have, by appearing on the flank of the Prussian column of march on Smohain and Planchenoit, forced one other corps at least, to form front towards him, and thus checked or “contained” two of the enemy’s corps. He might have done more with this half-beaten army. But most of all, he would have, and must have, as the day went on, by prolonging the French right at Planchenoit, prevented the direct advance of Blucher on the French right rear and line of retreat. His very appearance between the Dyle and Planchenoit would have had an effect, possibly considerable, on the Prussian army. It is immaterial whether, as the hours flew by, Grouchy could have joined hands with Lobau at Planchenoit. Blucher might have and would have got one corps by Sart-le-Walhain on the British left; but it is possible that all his other corps would have been checked, facing the unknown danger of Grouchy, between the field of Waterloo and the passages at Wavre. Doubtless Napoleon made a mistake in not giving Grouchy a more free hand. He, Grouchy, feared his great chief, and thought literal obedience to orders was more important than translating those orders. Not that Grouchy’s appearance near the great field would have prevented disaster; but it might have prevented rout. There might have been more men to call on, say the eight battalions of the Guard, when Ney most wanted them in his further effort against the English centre, and La Haye Sainte had fallen. Grouchy attacked in front the strongest part of the Prussian line of defence. Had he turned it, he would have carried out both his literal and his factual orders to keep the Prussians back from joining Wellington.

Hence, as Napoleon himself said, “This morning we had ninety chances for us; this arrival of Bülow loses us thirty.”