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arded so dreadful a conflict. Had he been at the head of seventy-five thousand English troops, or English and German only, he would have needed no such co-operation.

very field of Waterloo; and that, if there was any fault in the case, Napoleon could in justice ascribe it to no one but himself. Even if Grouchy, on the 18th, had directed his march to his 59. (XV.) The effect of Grouchy's left instead of his right, and marched not coming up, and the circumstances from Gembloux on St Lambert instead of his share in the campaign, have been of Wavre, as directed, he would have made the subject of great exaggeration fallen on Blucher while struggling on the part of the French writers. through the defiles of St Lambert, and Without doubt, if two-and-thirty thou- probably stopped both the advance of sand French troops had come upon the the corps of Bulow, which he comflank of the British army, without be- manded in person, and that of Thieling followed by any Prussians, they man. He could not, however, have might have exposed them to a defeat prevented the corps of Ziethen and as signal as Napoleon himself experi- Pirch from acting on Napoleon's flank; enced, from a similar attack being made and their force, still above fifty thouupon him when exhausted by the fight. sand strong, was amply sufficient to But were Grouchy's troops in a situa- have completed his overthrow. But tion to do this? Was he not opposed Grouchy's advance in that direction to, and nearly matched by, the Prus- would probably have retarded their adsians under Thielman, whom he com-vance, and thus rendered the struggle bated at Wavre?* Had not Grouchy at the crisis more violent, and the strict orders to watch the Prussian victory less complete, than it actually general closely, and in particular to was. direct his march to Wavre? And what would it have availed the French if the latter had come up to their succour with 32,000, if all Blucher's force, still eighty thousand strong, had in consequence joined Wellington? It is by entirely keeping out of view this important fact of Grouchy being matched at Wavre, and the impossibility of his joining Napoleon without the whole of Blucher's force joining Wellington, that the French have been at all able to elevate into a degree of importance the alleged failure of this marshal to appear in the field at the decisive moment. And whether he did right or wrong in acting as he did, nothing is more certain than that he strictly obeyed his orders, reiterated twice over at ten and one o'clock from the

"Third corps d'armée, Thielman, 33.000 men, 96 guns."-PLOTHO, iv. 55, Appendix. Thielman was engaged, it is true, at Ligny, but so was Grouchy; and the loss there could not have materially altered their relative proportions. The force which actually fought at Wavre, indeed, was only 15,400; but that, as already noticed, was the consequence of two Prussian brigades and a battery of artillery, forming part of Thielman's corps, having mistaken their way on the 18th, and so

taken no part in the combat. This accideut, of course, could have been foreseen by neither party -Clausewitz, viii, 194.

60. (XVI.) Napoleon's tactics, as well as those of Blucher, on the field of Ligny, were almost exclusively confined to vigorous efforts in order to gain possession of the villages which formed the object of strife between the contending parties, and nourishing the assaulting or defending columns with fresh troops, till the last reserves on the Prussian side were exhausted. It was then for the first time that he made a powerful offensive movement in the open ground. The battle of Lützen was nearly of the same description, as was great part of that of Leipsic. It is difficult to believe that there was anything erroneous in the system pursued by such consummate commanders on such important occasions. But yet it deserves the consideration of military men, whether there is not much truth in the observation of a recent learned and able military historian,† that too much importance has been attached to the possession of villages in battles; and that if either party can drive the enemy off the open ground, the troops in the villages will be rendered useless, and in all probability made prisoners. Certain it is that Marl+ Colonel Mitchell.-Life of Napoleon, iii. | 287,290.

borough gained decisive success at Blen- | ever, is not probable, when his imheim by pursuing an entirely opposite perious character is considered; and system; and after his first assault on it affords another example of what his the village of that name had failed, by history so often showed, that he never reason of the great strength of its took blame to himself, if he could, French garrison, by directing his whole justly or unjustly, lay it on another. efforts to driving the enemy from the On the other hand, it is equally clear open ground between it and the other that the ultimate success of Wellington villages they held, in consequence of was mainly owing to his judicious which they were enveloped by his vic- withdrawal of the cavalry after the imtorious battalions, and all the troops portant services they had rendered in they contained, thirteen thousand in the early part of the action, and keepnumber, made prisoners. The truth ap- ing them in reserve, when the enemies' pears to be, that the attack on villages horse were torn in pieces for three in a field of battle, as on that of forti- hours, during the middle of the strife, fied towns in a campaign, is expedient by the grape and musketry from the or the reverse according to circum- British batteries and squares. Had stances. If the parties are nearly Napoleon followed a different course; matched, and no decisive advantage had he husbanded his horse till the has been gained on either side, the close of the action, and then brought possession of villages is of great mo- up his columns of the Guard, supported ment, because they form so many by d'Erlon's and Reille's divisions, and points d'appui, invaluable in case of screened on either flank by five thoulocal disaster to the troops in the open sand of his formidable lancers and cuirfield. But if one party is greatly su- assiers, it is difficult to see how it could perior to the other, either in the number have been resisted, when it is recollected or quality of his troops, it is impolitic how nearly such an attack had sucto waste time or strength in the assault ceeded without the aid of such flank of villages, where the inferiority of the protection. Both commanders put in enemy may be less felt than in the practice their favourite modes of action. open field, when, by driving him from Napoleon proceeded on the opinion he the ground between them, their garri- has so often recorded, that cavalry, if sons may be rendered useless, or sur- gallantly led, with the aid of artillery, rounded and made prisoners. should always be equal to break infantry; and he hazarded them so much, in the belief they would gain his object before the Prussians came up. Wellington, with more reason, as the event proved, rested on the experienced steadiness of the British footsoldiers, and acted on the conviction that their firmness would repel all the assaults of the enemy till his strength was worn out, and the moment had arrived for converting an obstinate defensive into a vehement offensive operation.

61. (XVII.) The loss of the battle of Waterloo to Napoleon seems to have been mainly owing to the imprudent use he made of nearly his whole cavalry in a desperate strife during the middle of the action, whereby it became, notwithstanding its great numerical strength, so diminished in numbers, depressed in spirit, and worn out by fatigue, that it was unable to oppose any effectual resistance to the incursion of the British horse, in part comparatively fresh, at the close of the day. This is another example of the truth which Napoleon so often repeated, that in battles victory is to the party to whose last reserve the enemy has nothing to oppose. So sensible indeed was Napoleon that his defeat was chiefly owing to this cause, that he said afterwards that the cavalry, in the enthusiasm of the moment, engaged in part without his orders. This, how- |

62. Napoleon and Wellington having risen, by the common consent of men, to the highest rank on their respective sides in the great Revolutionary contest; and the awful strife having been finally determined under their guidance on a single field, like that between Rome and Carthage under the banners of Scipio and Hannibal, the

attention of men, to the end of the world, will be forcibly drawn to their characters. We know, after the lapse of two thousand years, with what eagerness we yet dwell on those of the Roman and Carthaginian leaders who met at Zama; and we may anticipate with confidence a similar undying interest in the comparison between the British and French heroes who combated at Waterloo. Happy, indeed, if the pen of the historian could keep pace with the greatness of the subject, and the English language would afford the means of painting, in a few touches, with the hand of Livy or Tacitus, the salient points in the minds of those whose deeds are for ever engraven on the records of mankind!

63. Napoleon and Wellington were not merely individual characters: they were the types of the powers which they respectively headed in the contest. Napoleon had brighter genius, Wellington superior judgment: the former combated with greater energy, the latter with more perseverance. Rapid in design, instant în execution, the strokes of the French hero fell like the burning thunderbolt: cautious in counsel, yet firm in action, the resources of the British champion multiplied, like the vigour of vegetation, after the withering stroke had fallen. No campaign of Wellington's equals in energy and activity those of Napoleon in Italy and in France; none of Napoleon's approaches in foresight and wisdom that of Wellington at Torres Vedras. The vehemence of the French Emperor would have exhausted, in a single season, the whole resources which, during the war, were at the disposal of the English general; the caution of Wellington would have alienated in the very beginning the troops which overflowed with the passions of the Revolution. Ardour and onset were alike imposed on the former by his situation, and suggested by his disposition: foresight and perseverance were equally dictated to the latter by his necessities, and in unison with his character. The one wielded at pleasure the military resources of the half of Europe, and governed a nation heed

VOL. XII.

less of consequences, covetous of glory, reckless of slaughter: the other led the forces of a people distrustful of its prowess, avaricious of its blood, niggardly in the outset in its expenditure, but, when once roused, invincible in its determination. And the result, both in the general war and final struggle, was in entire conformity with this distinction. Wellington retired in the outset before the fierce assault of the French legions, but he saw them, for the first time since the Revolution, permanently recoil in defeat from the rocks of Torres Vedras: he was at first repeatedly expelled from Spain, but at last he drove the invaders with disgrace across the Pyrenees. He was in the beginning assailed unawares, and wellnigh overpowered in Flanders; but in the end he baffled all Napoleon's efforts, and, rising up with the strength of a giant, crushed at once his army and his empire on the field of Waterloo.

64. The personal and moral characters of the two chiefs were still more strikingly opposed, and emblematic of the sides they severally led. Both were distinguished by the unwearied perseverance, the steady purpose, the magnanimous soul, which are essential to glorious achievements: both were provident in council, and vigorous in execution: both possessed personal intrepidity in the highest degree: both were indefatigable in activity, and iron in constitution: both enjoyed the rarer qualities of moral courage and fearless determination. But, in other respects, their minds were as opposite as are the poles asunder. Napoleon was covetous of glory, Wellington was impressed with duty: Napoleon was reckless of slaughter, Wellington was sparing of blood: Napoleon was careless of his word, Wellington was inviolate in faith. Treaties were regarded by the former as binding only when expedient-alliances valid only when useful: obligations were regarded by the latter as obligatory, though ruinous-conventions as sacred, even when disgraceful. Napoleon's wasting warfare converted allies into enemies; Wellington's protecting discipline changed enemies into friends. The former fell, because all

8

Europe rose up against his oppression: the latter triumphed, because his principles were such that all Europe was at last glad to place itself under his guidance. There is not a proclamation of Napoleon to his soldiers in which glory is not mentioned, nor one in which duty is alluded to: there is not an order of Wellington to his troops in which duty is not inculcated, nor one in which glory is mentioned.

acter of their minds was most striking and important. Singleness of heart was the characteristic of the British hero, a sense of duty his ruling principle: ambition pervaded the French conqueror, a thirst for glory was his invariable incentive; but he veiled it to others, and perhaps to himself, under the name of patriotic spirit. The former proceeded on the belief that the means, if justifiable, would finally 65. The intellectual characters of the work out the end; the latter, on the two heroes exhibited the same distinc- maxim that the end would in every tive features as their military career case justify the means. Napoleon and moral qualities. No man ever placed himself at the head of Europe, surpassed Napoleon in the clearness of and desolated it for fifteen years with his ideas, or the stretch of his glance his warfare: Europe, in return for into the depths of futurity; but he was Waterloo, placed Wellington at the often misled by the fervour of his con- head of its armies, and he gave it ceptions, and mistook the dazzling bril- thirty years of unbroken peace. The liancy of genius for the steady light of former thought only in peace of actruth. With less ardour of imagina- cumulating the resources of future war; tion, less originality of thought, less the latter sought only in war the means creative power, Wellington had more of securing future peace, and finally justness of judgment, and a far greater sheathing the sword of conquest. The capability of discriminating error from one exhibited the most shining example truth. The young and the ardent who of splendid talents devoted to temporal have life before them, will ever turn ambition and national aggrandisement; to the St Helena memoirs for the views the other, the noblest instance of moral of a mind of the most profound and influence directed to exalted purposes original cast, on the most important and national preservation. The former subjects of human thought. The ma- was in the end led to ruin while blindly ture and the experienced who have pursuing the meteor of worldly greatknown its vicissitudes, will rest withness; the latter was unambitiously conmore confidence on the "Maxims and ducted to final greatness while only folOpinions" of Wellington, and marvel lowing the star of public duty. The at the numerous instances in which struggle between them was the same his instinctive sagacity and prophetic at bottom as that which, anterior to judgment had, in opposition to all the creation of man, shook the powers around him, beheld the shadow of of heaven; and never was such an excoming events even amidst the clouds ample of moral government afforded with which he was surrounded. No as the final result of their immortal one can read the speculations of the contest. Wellington was a warrior, French Emperor without admiration but he was so only to become a pacifiat the brilliancy of his ideas and the cator; he has shed the blood of man, originality of his conceptions; none but it was only to stop the shedding can peruse the maxims of the English of human blood; he has borne aloft general without closing the book at the sword of conquest, but it was only every page to meditate on the wisdom to plant in its stead the emblems of and justice of his opinions. The genius mercy. He has conquered the love of of the former shared in the fire of glory, the last infirmity of noble minds, Homer's imagination; the mind of the by the love of peace, the first grace of latter exhibited the depth of Bacon's the Christian character. intellect.

66. But it was in the prevailing moral principles by which they were regulated, that the distinctive char

"Pulchrum eminere est inter illustres viros;
Consulere patrie; parcere afflictis; ferâ
Cede abstinere; tempus atque iræ dare
Orbi quietem, seculo pacem suo.
Hec summa virtus; petitur hac cœlum við."

CHAPTER XCV.

SECOND RESTORATION OF LOUIS, AND DEATH OF NAPOLEON.

1. WITH such rapidity did Napoleon | cure his own interest in the approachcontinue his flight, that he was himself ing revolution, when Napoleon, at four the first man who brought to the French o'clock in the morning of the 21st, capital authentic accounts of his own arrived at Paris, and alighted at the defeat. The telegraph had announced Elysée Bourbon. in exaggerated terms the victory of 2. His first step, on his arrival, was Ligny, and the imperial partisans im- to send for Caulaincourt: his agitation mediately expected the total overthrow was such, that he could hardly articuof the British army. Their exultation late. "The army," said he, "has perwas already great, when, on the morn- formed prodigies; but a sudden panic ing of the 19th, sinister rumours began seized it, and all has been lost. Ney to circulate in the capital, that a ter- conducted himself like a madman; he rible battle had been fought near Mont caused my cavalry to be massacred. I St Jean, and that the army had been can do no more. I must have two destroyed. These reports increased in hours of repose, and a warm bath, bestrength and minuteness during the fore I can attend to business." After remainder of the day; and while the he had taken the bath he became more friends of Napoleon, and the workmen collected, and spoke with anxiety of in the suburbs, were thrown into de- the Chambers, insisting that a dictatorspair, the shopkeepers and wealthier ship alone could save the countryclasses of the citizens recovered con- that he would not seize it, but he fidence, and the public funds of all hoped the Chambers would offer it. descriptions rose with surprising rapid-"I have no longer an army," added ity. The opinion soon became universal he: "they are but a set of fugitives. that the cause of the Emperor was des- I may find men, but how shall I arm perate; that he had staked his last them? I have no muskets. throw on victory at Waterloo, and that but a dictatorship can save the counoverthrow there was irrecoverable ruin. try. The majority of the Chamber is From Charleroi, he had written in the well inclined; I have only against me most encouraging terms to the govern- Lafayette, Lanjuinais, and a few others. ment, adding, that courage and firm- If the nation rise, the enemy will be ness alone were necessary to re-estab- crushed: if, instead of rising, they dislish affairs. He was far, however, from pute, all is lost. The people have not feeling the confidence which he ex- sent deputies to overturn me, but to pressed in his letter; Labedoyère and support me. I fear them not, whatthe officers round him were in the ever they may do I shall always be deepest dejection, and already began the idol of the nation and army: if I to anticipate that punishment for their gave the word, they would be mastreachery to the royal government, sacred. But if we quarrel, instead of which they were well aware they richly understanding each other, we shall undeserved. Meanwhile Fouché, who had dergo the fate of the Lower Empire." got the earliest intelligence of the dis- He had altogether miscalculated, howaster, was straining every nerve to se- ever, the temper of the Chambers.

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