The Old Guard was destroyed,—not defeated! The advancing British troops rode over their prostrate bodies piled in ghastly heaps,—a monument to their valor and heroism, even in death. Ney, bareheaded, his clothes hanging in shreds, and with his broken sword in his hand, seeing a handful of his followers still remaining, ran forward to lead them against a Prussian column that was pursuing them. As the fearless marshal threw himself once more into the fray he exclaimed, "Come my friends; come see how a marshal of France can die!" But his time had not come: he was not destined to die upon the battlefield. His small band was soon overpowered and scarcely two hundred escaped death. Rulliere, who commanded the battalion, broke the flag-staff, hid the eagle beneath his coat, and followed Ney who had been unhorsed for the fifth time, but who was still unwounded. Under cover of the darkness they made their escape.
The Emperor attempted to protect the retreat and rally the fugitives; but it was now fast growing dark. The soldiers could not see him or they might have rallied, while many believed the report that he had been killed. "He is wounded," said some, "He is dead" cried others. Nothing could be heard above the uproar and hideous confusion that everywhere prevailed. The Prussian cavalry, supported by some battalions of infantry, and the whole of Bulow's corps, now advanced by the right of Planchenois.
In a few minutes the Emperor was almost surrounded by hostile forces. He had formed the regiment into a square, and was still lingering, when Marshal Soult seized the bridle of his horse, exclaimed that he would not be killed, but taken prisoner, and, pulling him away, the Emperor at last yielded to his destiny! Behind him on the battlefield lay 60,000 French, English and Prussians, dead or wounded. The battle of Waterloo was lost and this hitherto almost invincible warrior was obliged to gallop across the fields in the dark, amidst the whistling of the Prussian bullets, and detachments of their cavalry which were scouring the field in all directions.
Napoleon was so fatigued, on the road to Genappe, that he would no doubt have fallen from his horse, had he not been supported by General Gourgaud and two other persons, who remained his only attendants for some time.
Wellington and Blucher met about 10 o'clock, at the farm-house of La Belle Alliance, and after congratulating each other on the success of the day, the Prussian commander, whose men were still fresh, eagerly undertook to continue the pursuit during the night, while the English general halted to rest his weary men and care for the dead and wounded.
The English loss on this eventful day was 100 officers slain and 500 wounded; very many mortally. The Duke who was himself exposed to great danger throughout the day, and one other person, were the only two among his numerous staff who escaped unhurt. The enemy, according to their own accounts, lost over thirty thousand men, including Hanoverians, Belgian troops of Nassau, Brunswick, etc.; those of the English army alone amounted to 22,800; to which are to be added 8,000 to 10,000 Prussians. Of the 72,000 men whom Napoleon headed in this, his 85th pitched battle and greatest defeat, not more than 30,000 were ever again collected in arms. The remainder were either killed or wounded on the battlefield, or deserted and fled separately to their homes, or were murdered by the Prussians who followed hard on the miserable and defenseless fugitives, cutting down all they overtook without resistance or mercy.
Several French officers blew out their brains to escape their brutality and some of the veterans of the Imperial Guard, who lay wounded upon the battlefield, killed themselves when they heard the Emperor had lost the battle, in order that they might not fall into the hands of the enemy, or through remorse at the downfall of their chief.
Napoleon made a brief halt at Genappe, at about 11 o'clock at night; but all his attempts to rally the frantic masses were in vain. He then continued his course towards Quatre-Bras, where he dismounted at a bivouac at about 1 o'clock in the morning. At Phillipville, he received news of Grouchy's movements, and sent him word of the loss of Mont St. Jean, (Waterloo).
At this point he caused orders to be dispatched to Generals Rapp, Lecourbe and Lamarque, to proceed by forced marches to Paris, and to commanders of fortified towns to defend themselves to the last extremity. He also dictated two letters to his brother Joseph, one to be communicated to the council of ministers relating imperfectly the fatal issue of the day, and the other for his private perusal giving a faithful account of the total rout of the army, and declaring that he would soon have an army of 300,000 troops with which to oppose the enemy. The Duke of Bassano (Maret) and Baron Fleury now came up and greeted the Emperor who was much affected at meeting them, and was scarcely able to suppress his emotions. He then prepared to set off in a calash, accompanied by Bertrand. At Rocroi, where Napoleon stopped to take refreshments, his attendants appeared in a pitiable state; their clothes were covered with blood and dust, their looks were haggard, and their eyes were filled with tears. Napoleon continued his journey to Paris, via Laon, accompanied by two or three hundred fugitives, who had been collected to form an escort, arriving at the capital on the evening of the 20th of June.