The battles of the world

by J. Douglas Borthwick

“The position of Mont St. Jean was ill-chosen. The first requisite of a field of battle, is, to have no defiles in its rear. The injudicious choice of his field of battle, rendered all retreat impossible.”

Thus Napoleon challenges our criticism on this very point. All military authorities are agreed that he was wrong in his censure on Wellington. It is conceded even by Frenchmen like Lamartine, that the forest of Soignes, instead of being a source of peril, was an element of safety. But he who assails his rival on this especial point, of a provision for retreat, must expect to be asked, himself, “How his own retreat was conducted?”

There is no parallel to its disastrous character. An army of nearly 90,000 fine soldiers, not 40,000 of which could have been killed or wounded, was nothing the next day but a vast horde of fugitives. We notice, with contemptuous pity, how the Spanish generals, in 1809, managed to incur such a disgraceful defeat at Ocana, that out of 50,000 men, not 1,000 kept the field a week after. But here was one of the finest armies that ever France sent forth, commanded too, by the conqueror, of Europe; and even the very day after the battle, not a single thousand men were to be found in the field! All were utterly scattered and broken up. And yet their general has the assurance, in criticising the general who has beaten him, to censure him, especially, because “he had taken no precautions to secure his retreat!”

But now of his great rival and conqueror:—The Duke of Wellington had not the same opportunity for displaying his skill and talent in 1815, which he had enjoyed in 1813. His proposed campaign was to open on the 1st of July, and it had been the favourite object of Napoleon to take the initiative, to open the campaign before the British troops from America had arrived, and thus to lead the campaign himself without waiting for the Duke to open it. Hence, during these three days, Napoleon was always advancing, attacking, while Wellington, with his weak army was making the best defence he could. And, accordingly, at Waterloo, the Duke knowing the disparity of his force, could only hope to “keep his ground” till the Prussians should arrive. He was in the position of a small man attacked by a giant. He could only parry his blows and allow the assailant to exhaust his strength, in the hope that, at last, by a well-aimed thrust he might lay his enemy prostrate. For nine long hours, therefore, the Duke’s whole business was to meet and repel the powerful attacks of Napoleon; and he had to do this with, according to Napoleon’s own admission, “less than 40,000 good troops.” In fact, his infantry, British and of the German Legion, were only 18,485, his British and German Legion cavalry 7,834, while Napoleon had very nearly 70,000 excellent infantry, and more than 18,000 splendid cavalry. Yet for these nine hours did the Duke meet and repel all his assaults. This sort of soldiership is less showy than daring manœuvres, but it is equally valuable; and in the present instance, when the materials the Duke had to work with are considered, the merit of it is not at all inferior. One of the best generals commanding under the Duke, when acknowledging the thanks of the House of Commons, said, “An army hastily drawn together, composed of the troops of various nations, and amongst which were counted several brigades of inexperienced militia, was the force which the Duke had to oppose to one of the most formidable and best-appointed armies that France ever produced. No other man living could have rendered the service which he performed, with an army so composed.”

The chief point, however, in the character of a great general is the possession of that “eagle eye” which enables him, amid all the din and turmoil of a horrible contest, to perceive exactly the right moment for vigorous action, and the right place at which to aim an attack. It was this, especially, which gave the Duke his first signal victory over the French at Salamanca; and it was this which turned the repulse of the French at Waterloo into a disastrous defeat.

Narrative-writers, collecting, long after, the best available testimony from all quarters, and carefully comparing and sifting the whole, are able to arrive at probable conclusions as to the order and date of the leading events. But this sort of calm investigation is wholly different from the horrible din, the ceaseless clamour, and the almost impervious smoke which obscures everything on the battle-field. We, for instance, comparing the accounts of the French, the Prussians, and the Austrians, are able to arrive at the conclusion, with absolute certainty that General Bulow’s corps first showed itself on the right of the French line about half-past four, and began to take part in the engagement about half-past five. But it is quite certain that the Duke, fully occupied just then with the French cavalry, who were riding round his squares, knew nothing of the actual arrival of the long-expected succour until long after. It was nearly two hours after this, when, by carefully examining every part of the left of his line, the Duke was able to perceive the rising of smoke over Planchenoit. This was not until seven o’clock; but it assured him of this, that some part of the promised Prussian support had arrived, and that more must be coming up. And this was sufficient to give him new hopes of ultimate success, though he could be certain, as yet, of very little more than that some aid was at hand.

It was shortly after this, and about the time of the movement of the Imperial Guard, when news reached him from Marshal Blucher himself that he was then actually joining the extreme left of the British line. It was this support which enabled the British light cavalry to move from the left of the line, and to take a position nearer the centre. And hence, when the English and the French Guards had tried each other’s mettle, and the latter had retired in disorder, the Duke saw at one comprehensive glance the arrival of that moment for which he had been longing,—the defeat and confusion of Napoleon’s last reserve; the presence of the long-promised Prussian succours, at that last moment of daylight, which just allowed time for one daring movement and no more. And the decision and boldness with which the Duke seized this golden opportunity are among the finest traits in the whole history of great military deeds. A brief hesitation, if only of a quarter of an hour, would have allowed the French, although beaten, to retire at leisure. A renewal of the contest might have followed after the lapse of a couple of days, but how different would have been the whole history of such a campaign from that of Waterloo! It was this clear perception of the right moment for an attack, and the fearlessness with which fewer than 30,000 men were led forward to assault at least twice their numbers, commanded by Napoleon, Soult, and Ney,—it was this wonderful union of prudence, decision, and the highest kind of valour, which made the Duke of Wellington the first of all the generals of his day.

And, united with those lofty endowments, there was the patient, enduring, untiring discharge of every duty of a commander. In this, as in every other of his battles, the Duke was constantly wherever his presence was needed. There could not be a pressure felt at any portion of the line,—there could not be an anxious moment when even the bravest might look around him and begin to think of the possibility of an overthrow, but presently the well-known chestnut-horse would be seen, and the whisper would run through the ranks, “Here’s the Duke! stand fast!” This might seem to some to be merely a matter of course; but it is the being always in the right place at the right time; it is the union of the commonest duties with the highest which fills up the outline of a great character, and leaves to posterity not only a brilliant name, but a really bright example.”[44]

WAWZ, BATTLE OF.—Fought, March 31st, 1831, between the Poles and the Russians. After two days of hard labour in fighting, the Poles carried the Russian works, who were obliged to retreat, with the loss of 12,000 men and 2000 prisoners. This triumph of the Poles was shortly after followed by defeat and massacre.

WHITE PLAINS, BATTLE OF.—Between the revolted American Provinces and the British, under Sir William Howe. Fought, November 30th, 1776. This was the most serious of the early battles of that unfortunate war, and terminated in the defeat of the Americans, who suffered considerable loss in killed, wounded, and prisoners.