1815 THE BATTLE OF WATERLOO.
One of the most important struggles of modern times was now about to commence—a struggle which for many years was to decide the fate of Europe. Napoleon and Wellington at length stood opposite one another. They had never met; the military reputation of each was of the highest kind,
—[For full details of the Waterloo campaign see Siborne's History
of the War in France and Belgium in 1815, giving the English
contemporary account; Chesney's Waterloo Lectures, the best English
modern account, which has been accepted by the Prussians as pretty
nearly representing their view; and Waterloo by Lieutenant-Colonel
Prince Edouard de la Tour d'Auvergne (Paris, Plon, 1870), which may
be taken as the French modern account.
In judging this campaign the reader must guard himself from looking
on it as fought by two different armies-the English and the
Prussian-whose achievements are to be weighed against one another.
Wellington and Blücher were acting in a complete unison rare even
when two different corps of the same nation are concerned, but
practically unexampled in the case of two armies of different
nations. Thus the two forces became one army, divided into two
wings, one, the left (or Prussian wing) having been defeated by the
main body of the French at Ligny on the 16th of June, the right (or
English wing) retreated to hold the position at Waterloo, where the
left (or Prussian wing) was to join it, and the united force was to
crush the enemy. Thus there is no question as to whether the
Prussian army saved the English by their arrival, or whether the
English saved the Prussians by their resistance at Waterloo. Each
army executed well and gallantly its part in a concerted operation.
The English would never have fought at Waterloo if they had not
relied on the arrival of the Prussians. Had the Prussians not come
up on the afternoon of the 18th of June the English would have been
exposed to the same great peril of having alone to deal with the
mass of the French army, as the Prussians would have had to face if
they had found the English in full retreat. To investigate the
relative performances of the two armies is much the same as to
decide the respective merits of the two Prussian armies at Sadowa,
where one held the Austrians until the other arrived. Also in
reading the many interesting personal accounts of the campaign it
most be remembered that opinions about the chance of success in a
defensive struggle are apt to warp with the observer's position, as
indeed General Grant has remarked in answer to criticisms on his
army's state at the end of the first day of the battle of Shiloh or
Pittsburg Landing. The man placed in the front rank or fighting
line sees attack after attack beaten off. He sees only part of his
own losses, and most of the wounded disappear, and he also knows
something of the enemy's loss by seeing the dead in front of him.
Warmed by the contest, he thus believes in success. The man placed
in rear or advancing with reinforcements, having nothing of the
excitement of the struggle, sees only the long and increasing column
of wounded, stragglers, and perhaps of fliers. He sees his
companion fall without being able to answer the fire. He sees
nothing of the corresponding loss of the enemy, and he is apt to
take a most desponding view of the situation. Thus Englishmen
reading the accounts of men who fought at Waterloo are too ready to
disbelieve representations of what was taking place in the rear of
the army, and to think Thackeray's life-like picture in Vanity Fair
of the state of Brussels must be overdrawn. Indeed, in this very
battle of Waterloo, Zieten began to retreat when his help was most
required, because one of his aides de camp told him that the right
wing of the English was in full retreat. "This inexperienced young
man," says Muffling, p. 248, "had mistaken the great number of
wounded going, or being taken, to the rear to be dressed, for
fugitives, and accordingly made a false report." Further, reserves
do not say much of their part or, sometimes, no part of the fight,
and few people know that at least two English regiments actually
present on the field of Waterloo hardly fired a shot till the last
advance.
The Duke described the army as the worst he ever commanded, and said
that if he had had his Peninsular men, the fight would have been
over much sooner. But the Duke, sticking to ideas now obsolete, had
no picked corps. Each man, trusting in and trusted by his comrades,
fought under his own officers and under his own regimental colours.
Whatever they did not know, the men knew how to die, and at the end
of the day a heap of dead told where each regiment and battery had
stood.]—
the career of both had been marked by signal victory; Napoleon had carried his triumphant legions across the stupendous Alps, over the north of Italy, throughout Prussia, Austria, Russia, and even to the foot of the Pyramids, while Wellington, who had been early distinguished in India, had won immortal renown in the Peninsula, where he had defeated, one after another, the favourite generals of Napoleon. He was now to make trial of his prowess against their Master.
Among the most critical events of modern times the battle of Waterloo stands conspicuous. This sanguinary encounter at last stopped the torrent of the ruthless and predatory ambition of the French, by which so many countries had been desolated. With the peace which immediately succeeded it confidence was restored to Europe.