“Success to thy ingenuity, oh, woman!” said the rejoicing man to himself. “I should never have thought of this expedient.”
And when he came to the ravine he stuck his cane into the ground and tied the goat to it, gave the chicken to the woman, saying, “Hold it while I cut some grass for the goat;” and then, lowering the kettle from his shoulders, imprisoned the fowl under it, and wickedly kissed the woman, as she was afraid he would.
General Grouchy at Waterloo
The question, “What part had Grouchy in Napoleon’s defeat at Waterloo?” or, “was his failure to arrive in time the reason why the battle was lost?” is not satisfactorily answered in “Grouchy’s Memoirs.” The battle of Ligny was fought June 16, between the French and the Prussians under Blücher; on the same day the French manfully engaged the English at Quatre Bras; June 18, the battle of Waterloo was fought, which ended, by the timely arrival of Blücher on the battle-field, in the total rout of the French. It is claimed that Grouchy, who commanded the French right wing of 32,000, might either, by engaging the Prussians, have prevented them from appearing in time on the battle-field and wresting the hard-fought victory from the hands of Napoleon, or that he might have appeared on the battle-field himself in time to crush Wellington before Blücher could possibly be on the battle-field. Let us hear now what the French General says in his “Memoirs,” which is, in substance, as follows: “The French victory over the Prussians at Ligny had filled Napoleon with the greatest joy and a false feeling of security. He looked on the Belgian campaign as virtually won. Instead of turning his victory at Ligny to account and preparing for all eventualities, he rode to Fleure, about three miles back of Ligny, and went to bed, leaving Grouchy, the commander of the right wing, behind, without any positive orders. Grouchy followed Napoleon to Fleure, in order to call his attention to the critical state of affairs. He arrived early in the morning of the 17th in Fleure, but as Napoleon had given the strictest orders not to awaken him under any circumstances, he was not admitted to an audience of the Emperor before 1 o’clock P. M. of that day. The Emperor paid no attention to the General’s protestations, but repeated his orders to pursue and watch the Prussians. But this was simply impossible, because Blücher was ahead of him by a sixteen hours’ march, and had an array of 80,000 fresh troops. Moreover, in order to pursue Blücher, it would have been necessary for the right wing of the French army to withdraw far from the point where a conflict might come at every moment. All these reasons were strongly urged by the Marshal, but to no purpose; the Emperor repeated his orders to march toward Namour, saying that he knew that the Prussians would take their position on the Muse (Maas). With these instructions the Marshal retired, and the roar of cannon the next day satisfied him that a great battle was in progress. To hasten to the field of action was actually impossible, as his positive instructions had taken him to Namour, southeast of Ligny and farther off from Waterloo or Belle Alliance by fifteen English miles. Moreover, the terrain between Namour and Waterloo was marshy and without any passable roads, so that he could not have arrived on the battle-field before the action was over. Again, his avant guard had already engaged the Prussians, and to attempt to pass with 32,000 men, worn out by long marches, an enemy of 80,000 fresh troops, seemed to the Marshal too hazardous an enterprise; hence he did not make the attempt.”
So far the Marshal. If he tells the truth, if every statement made by him is according to facts, every unprejudiced reader will readily admit that the Marshal’s reasons for non-action were sufficient to justify his conduct, even in the absence of treasonable designs.
But where did the real fault lie? Who committed it? Even if the battle of Waterloo had remained indecisive, or even if it had been won by Napoleon, it might have retarded the sinking of his star, but would not have prevented it. Napoleon had taught the nations of Europe his own tactics; the French Republicans had filled all Europe with an abhorrence of their professed principles, and Napoleon had shown himself during his whole reign an unmitigated despot, whose only god was ambition, and who stooped short of nothing in order to carry out his designs.
But if the battle of Waterloo was lost through any one’s fault, that fault was Napoleon’s. He overrated his own victory, looking upon the Prussian army as crippled, disabled for the time being, while it had merely been pushed by sheer force from the battle-field. The French army was as much used up as the Prussian, being unable to pursue, while the Prussian army took all its baggage and wounded away and retired with such dispatch and order that Napoleon, sixteen hours after the close of the battle, did not even know which direction Blücher had taken.
Napoleon had said of the Bourbons that they had not learned anything nor forgotten anything; the same remark may be applied to himself with equal justice. He knew neither the newly awakened spirit of the different German peoples nor the wants and desires of France. All the battles he fought after his Russian campaign, even those he won, were hotly contested, for him bare of fruits; had he understood the signs of the times, he would have known that a nation manifesting such patriotism as the Prussians did in 1813 could, indeed, be annihilated, but not conquered; he would have known that Blücher was his most formidable opponent, and as a wise man he would neither have called him the drunken huzzar nor treated him as such. Of all Generals that fought Napoleon, Blücher seems to have been the only one that was not afraid of him; this Napoleon either knew not or was too proud to admit, hence his defeat and ruin.
Victor Hugo settles the question in very laconic and magisterial fashion. After his glowing description of Waterloo in “Les Misérables,” he says,—
“Was it possible that Napoleon should win this battle? We answer no. Why? Because of Wellington? Because of Blücher? No. Because of God.