Napoleon displayed all his usual activity and dispatch. He dictated orders to be conveyed to the different commanders of columns with the rapidity of lightning. Every body near him was kept in a state of feverish excitement, except the calm and steady Soult, whom it seemed impossible to move. There, too, was the stalwart Ney, whom the storms of battle could not even scar—ready for any duty, no matter how hopeless the performance. There also was the brave but reckless Jerome, who was destined to earn a high fame on the morrow. Berthier, who had so long been a fixture by the side of Napoleon, was not there, he had deserted the man from whose glory he had borrowed beams. But there was Maret, Bertrand, the steady Drouot, of the Old Guard, Gorgaud and Labedoyere—a galaxy of bravery and talent—such as was wont to surround the Emperor. All were busy noting down instructions, and replying to the swift questions of the tireless man whom they obeyed. Without, the rain was heard dripping incessantly. Drouot let fall an expression of opinion that, in consequence of the deluge, the ground would be impracticable for artillery.
“We shall see, it is not yet morning,” replied the Emperor. Then he leaned his head upon his hand, and thought—perhaps in the way of presentiment of disaster—but no expression of apprehension escaped his lips. Grouchy would keep Blucher in check, and Wellington would be crushed. Fortune might yet be favorable. But the heavens had quenched the last camp-fire of Napoleon.
About ten o’clock at night, Napoleon sent a dispatch to Grouchy, to announce that the Anglo-Belgian army had taken post in advance of the forest of Soignes, with its left resting on the hamlets of La Haye and Ohain, where Wellington seemed determined on the next day to give battle; Grouchy was, therefore, required to detach from his corps, about two hours before daybreak, a division of seven thousand men, and sixteen pieces of artillery, with orders to proceed to St. Lambert; and, after putting themselves in communication with the right of the grand army, to operate on the left of the British.
Meanwhile, the Duke of Wellington being in communication with Blucher, was promised by him that the Prussian army should advance to support the British on the morning of the 18th.
The rain, which had not ceased during the night, cleared off about five o’clock in the morning; and at eight it was reported by the officers who had been sent to inspect the field, that the ground was practicable for artillery. The Emperor instantly mounted his horse, and rode forward towards La Haye Sainte, to reconnoitre the British fine.
By half-past ten o’clock the two armies were arrayed, and impatient for orders to commence the battle. The Emperor proceeded to the heights of Rosomme, where he dismounted to obtain a clear view of the whole field; and there stationed his guard, as a reserve, to act where emergency might require. Meanwhile, the English remained silent and steady, waiting the commands of their chief; who, with telescope in hand, stood beneath a tree, near the cross-road, in front of his position, watching the movements of his opponents.
The village clock of Nivelles was striking eleven when the first gun was fired from the French centre. Then followed a tremendous rattle of musketry, as the brave Jerome led the column on the left to the attack on Hougomont, and drove the Nassau troops before him. The chateau and gardens, however, were bravely defended by a division of English guards, who were not to be dislodged. The fight, raged here more or less during the day, till at length the chateau was set on fire by the shells of the French, and it was found necessary to abandon it.
Napoleon, who was anxiously watching the first movement of his troops, was interrupted by an aid-de-camp, sent by Ney, who had been charged to attack the enemy’s centre, arriving at full gallop to announce that every thing was in readiness, and the marshal only waiting the signal to attack. For a moment the Emperor glanced round the field, and perceived in the direction of St. Lambert, a moving cloud advancing on the left of the English: pointing it out to Soult, he asked whether he conceived it to be Grouchy or Blucher? The marshal being in doubt, Generals Domont and Subervie were dispatched with their divisions of light cavalry, with orders to clear the way in the event of its being Grouchy, and if Blucher, to keep him in check.
Ney was then ordered to march to the attack of La Haye Sainte; after taking that post with the bayonet, and leaving a division of infantry, he was to proceed to the farms of Papelotte and La Haye, and place his troops between those of Wellington and Bulow. With his usual promptitude, the Prince of the Moskowa had in a few moments opened a battery of eighty cannon upon the left centre of the English line. The havoc occasioned by this deadly fire was so immense, that Wellington was obliged to draw back his men to the reverse slope of the hill on which they had stood, in order to screen them from its effects. The Count d’Erlon, under cover of the fire, advanced along the Genappe road; but as they ascended the position of La Haye Sainte, the Duke of Wellington directed against them a charge of cavalry, which speedily drove one column back into the hollow.
The English guards were in turn repulsed by a brigade of Milhaud’s cuirassiers, and galloping onwards, attacked the infantry; the horsemen not being able to make an impression on the squares formed for their reception, while they were themselves exposed to an incessant fire of musketry. One of D’Erlon’s unbroken columns pushed forward, meanwhile, beyond La Haye Sainte, upon which it made no attack, and charging one Belgian and three Dutch regiments, drove them from their posts in disorder, and took possession of the heights. Sir Thomas Picton was now sent to dislodge the enemy, and being supported by a brigade of heavy cavalry, the French, after firing a volley, paused, wheeled, and fled in confusion. Many were cut down by the guards; while seven guns, two eagles, and about two thousand prisoners were taken. The British, however, pursued their success too far; and becoming involved among the infantry, were attacked by a body of cuirassiers, in their turn broken, and forced to retire with great loss.