It was half past eleven, just about the time that the battle of Waterloo commenced, that Grouchy, as already hinted, overtook the rear of the Prussians. A strong force, appearing to be the whole of the Prussian army, lay before the French maréchal, who, from the character of the ground, had no means of ascertaining their numbers, or of discovering the fact, that three divisions of Blucher's army were already on the march to their right, through the passes of Saint Lambert; and that it was only Thielman's division which remained upon the Dyle. Still less could he know, what could only be known to the duke and Blucher, that the English were determined to give battle in the position at Waterloo. He heard, indeed, a heavy cannonade in that direction, but that might have proceeded from an attack on the British rear-guard, the duke being, in the general opinion of the French army, in full retreat upon Antwerp. At any rate, the maréchal's orders were to attack the enemy which he found before him. He could not but remember, that Ney had been reprimanded for detaching a part of his force on the 16th, in consequence of a distant cannonade; and he was naturally desirous to avoid censure for the self-same cause. Even if Napoleon was seriously engaged with the English, it seemed the business of Grouchy to occupy the large force which he observed at Wavre, and disposed along the Dyle, to prevent their attempting any thing against Napoleon, if, contrary to probability, the Emperor should be engaged in a general battle. Lastly, as Grouchy was to form his resolution under the idea of having the whole Prussian force before him, which was estimated at 80,000 men, it would have been impossible for him to detach from an army of 32,000 any considerable body, to the assistance of Napoleon; and in attacking with such inadequate numbers, he showed his devotion, at the risk of being totally destroyed.

He engaged, however, in battle without any hesitation, and attacked the line of the Prussians along the Dyle on every accessible point; to wit, at Wavre, at the mill of Bielge, and at the village of Limale. The points of attack were desperately defended by the Prussians under Thielman, so that Grouchy could only occupy that part of Wavre which was on his own side of the Dyle. About four o'clock, and consequently when the fate of the battle of Waterloo was nearly decided, Grouchy received from Maréchal Soult the only order which reached him during the day, requiring him to manœuvre so as to unite himself to the right flank of the Emperor, but at the same time acquainting him with the (false) intelligence, that the battle was gained upon the line of Waterloo. A postscript informed Grouchy, that Bulow was appearing upon Napoleon's right flank, and that if he could come up with speed, he would take the Prussian flagrante delicto.[155]

These orders were quite intelligible. But two things were necessary to their being carried into execution. First, that Grouchy should get clear of Thielman, the enemy with whom he was closely engaged, and who would not fail to pursue the French maréchal if he retreated or moved to his left flank, without having repulsed him. Secondly, it was indispensable he should pass the small river Dyle, defended by Thielman's division, since the road leading through the woods of Chapelle Lambert, was that by which he could best execute his march towards Waterloo. Grouchy redoubled his efforts to force the Dyle, but he could not succeed till night, and then but partially; for the Prussians continued to hold the mill of Bielge, and remained in force within a cannon-shot of Grouchy's position.

In the morning, the maréchal, anxious to learn with certainty the fate of Napoleon, though believing, according to Soult's letter, that he was victorious, sent out reconnoitring parties. When he learned the truth, he commenced a retreat, which he conducted with such talent, that though closely pursued by the Prussians, then in all the animation of triumph, and though sustaining considerable loss, he was enabled to bring his corps unbroken under the walls of Paris. Weighing all these circumstances, it appears that Buonaparte had no right to count upon the assistance of Grouchy, far less to throw censure on that general for not coming to his assistance, since he scrupulously obeyed the orders he received; and when at four o'clock, that of attacking and pressing the Prussian rear was qualified by the directions of Soult, to close up to Buonaparte's right wing, Grouchy was engaged in an obstinate engagement with Thielman, whom he must necessarily defeat before he could cross the Dyle, to accomplish the junction proposed.

The movement of Blucher, therefore, was a masterpiece of courage and judgment, since the prince maréchal left one division of his army to maintain a doubtful onset against Grouchy, and involved himself with the other three in that flank movement through the woods of Saint Lambert, by which he paid with interest the debt which he owed Napoleon for a similar movement, previous to the affairs of Champ-Aubert and Montmirail, in 1814.

The same system which placed Blucher in motion, required that the Duke of Wellington should maintain his position, by confining himself to a strictly defensive contest. The British, as they were to keep their place at all risks, so on no temptation of partial success were they to be induced to advance. Every step which they might have driven the French backward, before the coming up of the Prussians, would have been a disadvantage as far as it went, since the object was not to beat the enemy by the efforts of the English only, which, in the state of the two armies, might only have amounted to a repulse, but to detain them in the position of La Belle Alliance, until the army of Blucher should come up. When Napoleon, therefore, objects to the conduct of the Duke of Wellington on the 18th, that he did not manœuvre in the time of action, he objects to the very circumstance which rendered the victory of the day so decisive. He was himself decoyed into, and detained in a position, until his destruction was rendered inevitable.

It has been a favourite assertion with almost all the French, and some English writers, that the English were on the point of being defeated, when the Prussian force came up. The contrary is the truth. The French had attacked, and the British had resisted, from past eleven until near seven o'clock; and though the battle was most bloody, the former had gained no advantage save at the wood of Hougomont, and the farm-house of La Haye Sainte; both they gained, but speedily lost. Baron Muffling has given the most explicit testimony, "that the battle could have afforded no favourable result to the enemy, even if the Prussians had never come up." He was an eyewitness, and an unquestionable judge, and willing, doubtless, to carry the immediate glory acquired by his countrymen on this memorable occasion, and in which he had a large personal stake, as high as truth and honour will permit. At the time when Napoleon made the last effort, Bulow's troops were indeed upon the field, but had not made any physical impression by their weapons, or excited any moral dread by their appearance. Napoleon announced to all his Guard, whom he collected and formed for that final exertion, that the Prussians whom they saw were closely pursued by the French of Grouchy's army. He himself, perhaps, had that persuasion; for the fire of Grouchy's artillery, supposed to be a league and a half, but in reality nearly three leagues distant, was distinctly heard; and some one of Napoleon's suite saw the smoke from the heights above Wavre. "The battle," he said, "is won; we must force the English position, and throw them upon the defiles.—Allons! La Garde en avant!"[156] Accordingly, they then made the attack in the evening, when they were totally repulsed, and chased back upon, and beyond, their own position. Thus, before the Prussians came into serious action, Napoleon had done his utmost, and had not a corps remaining in order, excepting four battalions of the Old Guard. It cannot be therefore said, that our allies afforded the British army protection from any enemy that was totally disorganised; but that for which the Prussians do deserve the gratitude of Britain and of Europe, is the generous and courageous confidence with which they marched at so many risks to assist in the action, and the activity and zeal with which they completed the victory. It is universally acknowledged, that the British army, exhausted by so long a conflict, could not have availed themselves of the disorder of their enemy at its conclusion; while, on the contrary, nothing could exceed the dexterity and rapidity with which the Prussians conducted the pursuit. The laurels of Waterloo must be divided—the British won the battle, the Prussians achieved and rendered available the victory.[157]