Indeed, such an utter overthrow as France had received, and that in the course of a few days, was hardly to be paralleled in history. Sufficient stress has seldom been laid upon that wonderful working of the Divine Providence by which this great contest, expected by all men to be so long, so desperate, and so sanguinary, was suddenly brought to a close on the fourth day after its commencement. All the great powers of Europe had agreed upon a united effort. They had pledged their faith to one another to place 600,000 men on the soil of France in July, 1815.
All at once, in the middle of June, while the bulk of these armies were moving up from Poland, Bohemia, Hungary, and other distant lands, they hear that the war is begun. And in four days after, they hear that it is finished! Such is not the ordinary course of human history.
All, however, is easily accounted for. Napoleon saw in England the most resolute, consistent, and indomitable of his foes, and in England’s Great General, the only Captain whom he could hold in no light esteem. He said, and not unwisely, “If the Anglo-Belgian army had been destroyed at Waterloo, what service could the Allies derive from the number of armies which were preparing to cross the Rhine, the Alps, and the Pyrenees?”[43]
And acting upon this sound view of the case, and knowing that one or two more weeks would elapse before Wellington could have his veteran battalions around him, he resolved to throw himself like an avalanche upon the Duke’s army in its unreadiness; in the hope that a campaign beginning with a defeat of this his chief opponent would alarm England, terrify the other powers, and so make peace, with his continued retention of the throne of France, attainable.
This plan was a sagacious as well as a bold one. It grappled at once with the grand difficulty of the case. But the difficulty, when grappled with, overmastered him. Still, the peculiar characteristics of this momentous struggle deserves to be carefully remarked. A judicious writer has well observed, that:—
“Waterloo seemed to bear the features of a grand, immediate interposition of Providence. Had human judgments been consulted, they would have drawn a different plan. The Prussians would have joined the English and have swept the enemy before them; or, the British would have been in force enough to have beaten the French long before the set of sun, &c., &c. But if the French had suffered a common defeat, with consummate generals at their head they would have rallied; or, retiring in force, would have called in all available aids, and have renewed the struggle. So the conflict held on till the last moment, when they could neither escape nor conquer. If they had retreated an hour before nightfall they might have been saved; if they could have fought an hour after it, darkness would have covered them. But the crash came on the very edge of darkness. The Prussians came up unfatigued by battle and fresh for pursuit. The night was to be a night of slaughter. ‘Thou, moon, in the valley of Ajalon.’”
Such was one of the grand events of modern history,—the victory which gave all Europe peace for forty years. Ascribing, as we most unreservedly do, the whole ordering of this momentous struggle to an overruling Providence, it still seems a duty to add a few words on the respective merits, or demerits, connected with this tremendous contest, of the two great commanders, who for the first and last time met at Waterloo. Let us first glance at the great deeds achieved, and the great mistakes committed, by Napoleon in the course of these three eventful days.
He carried his magnificent army over the frontier, and threw it upon the allied armies in a manner exhibiting the most consummate skill. Twenty years spent in the practice of war had given him an expertness in the handling of large bodies of troops which few generals have ever possessed. He showed also on the 16th that he was a better general than Blucher, and that his army was a better army than that of the Prussians. But here our commendation must close; for a variety of faults and errors have been pointed out by military critics, of which we shall only mention a few of the chief. Napoleon was guilty of two great miscalculations, and of three important practical mistakes. These were:—
1. He rashly and erroneously assumed that his appearance in Belgium at the head of a fine army would force his opponents, Wellington and Blucher, out of mere awe and terror, to fall back, to evacuate the country, and so to give him a triumph at the opening of the campaign. In his ixth Book he seriously argues that they ought to have done so: but this was a strange miscalculation. When had either Wellington or Blucher showed any alacrity in running away? And what right had he to assume that a force amounting, when united, to nearly 200,000 men, would act as if terror-stricken, on the mere appearance of a French army of only 150,000? Yet he constantly tells us that they ought to have retreated, and that his calculations always rested on the presumption that they certainly would retreat.
2. In like manner was he disappointed when he sent Grouchy with 35,000 or 40,000 men, to occupy and keep employed the whole Prussian army. Again did he absurdly overlook the real character of Blucher, who was not one to be easily duped. Napoleon might speculate, if he pleased, on the chance of keeping Blucher at Wavre while he was overpowering and crushing Wellington at Waterloo; but Blucher was equally at liberty to despise all such devices, and to leave Napoleon’s lieutenant in order to seek for Napoleon himself. This was what actually took place, and hence we see that again Napoleon is exposed to the imputation of having fatally miscalculated.