The matter is of no very great importance. Still, Walhain was certainly a good mile nearer than Sart-à-Walhain to the bridges, whether Grouchy marched by way of Mont St. Guibert or La Baraque. (See Map 11.)
CHAPTER XVI.
THE BATTLE OF WATERLOO.
Napoleon, as we have seen, took up his headquarters on the evening of the 17th at the Caillou house on the Brussels road, about a mile and a half south of the little tavern known then and now as La Belle Alliance. All the afternoon and night it rained hard. We may suppose that, as his custom was, he slept during the evening. At 1 A.M. of the 18th, he mounted his horse, and, with Bertrand, rode out to the front.[671] Here he rode or walked along the line of the pickets until he had satisfied himself that Wellington’s army was in position, awaiting battle. The fires at which the soldiers of the English and Dutch army were drying and warming themselves left no doubt of this. He must have been occupied in this way more than two hours, as he was near the wood of Hougomont at half-past two in the morning.
After returning, various reports came in. Between 7 and 8 A.M. he received from an officer who had been sent to the advanced posts, word that the enemy were retiring. This information he at once communicated to d’Erlon,[672] whose corps was in the first line,—that of Reille not having got fully up,—and ordered him to put his troops in march and to pursue the enemy with vigor. But d’Erlon having judged the enemy’s movement quite differently, sent his chief-of-staff to the Emperor to tell him that he, d’Erlon, thought that the English were making their dispositions to receive battle. D’Erlon proceeds:—
“The Emperor came immediately to the advanced posts. I accompanied him; we dismounted in order to get near the enemy’s vedettes, and to examine more closely the movements of the English army. He perceived that I was right, and being convinced that the English army was taking position, he said to me:—
‘Order the men to make their soup, to get their pieces in order, and we will determine what is to be done towards noon.’”
Napoleon seems in fact not to have spared himself any trouble, and there evidently was no very conspicuous deficiency in the physical energy of a man who, after a good afternoon’s work in the saddle in directing the march of an army, was able to go out twice in the deep mud during a rainy night and morning to visit the outer pickets of his line of battle, nearly two miles from the house where he had established his headquarters.
The reason of this apparently rather unnecessary solicitude is really not far to seek. Napoleon felt as confident of beating Wellington’s army that day as he had felt of beating Blücher’s army on the day but one before, provided only that it would accept battle. He believed, and he was justified in believing, that his army was superior to that opposed to him, in fighting capacity certainly, and even, possibly, in numbers. He trusted to Grouchy to keep the Prussians off, as he had on the day of Ligny trusted to Ney to protect him against the English, and he may also have thought it possible that Grouchy would arrive on the field in time to make the victory more crushing,—playing, in this way, much the same rôle which Napoleon had marked out for Ney at Ligny. He accordingly feared nothing so much as the retreat of the English.