Chapter 10
Although it did not become fully apparent until a few weeks afterwards, the Allies had just won one of the most decisive battles in world history. While the campaign continued over the rest of June, the impact of Waterloo was soon felt in France and French morale and resistance crumbled once they recognized the scale of the defeat.
The period now known as the ‘Hundred Days’ had been remarkable. Napoleon had returned from exile, established a new government and set out to fight a major war with a speed that seems barely credible. At the outset, fortune had smiled upon his endeavours. His grand strategy to divide Wellington and Blücher before the armies of the Seventh Coalition could converge on France was inspired and well executed but his enemies had become accustomed to his manner of waging war. Once they realized that Napoleon intended to divide them using the strategy of the central position, they made every effort to combine and thwart him. The campaign that began so well ended in disaster. Some time later, Napoleon remarked dourly: ‘Everything failed me just when everything had succeeded.’
THE VICTORY
During the early hours of 19 June, Wellington arose from an exhausted sleep and sat at his desk to write his famous Waterloo Dispatch, informing the British Government about recent events. Gordon lay dying in a nearby room and the Duke was physically and mentally weary after his exertions the previous day but he persevered with this task and wrote in his habitual straightforward, concise style.
Addressing his remarks to Lord Bathurst, Secretary of State for War and the Colonies, this would actually be the first of several dispatches as Wellington became acquainted with further intelligence about the battle as it came in. He acknowledged and paid tribute to the Prussian contribution but referred to only a few specific individuals and units from his own army to single them out for praise. In fact, the majority of the dispatch referred to the Anglo-Allied Army in general with remarks such as: ‘It gives me the greatest satisfaction to assure your Lordship that the army never, upon any occasion, conducted itself better.’ He later received criticism for a perceived lack of generosity, subsequently admitting that he ‘should have given more praise’ and did expand on his remarks in later communications. In fairness, he was in command of an army poised to embark on the invasion of France and had concerns that were more pressing.
Wellington gave the dispatch, along with the French Eagle standards captured at Waterloo, to Major Henry Percy (one of his ADCs) who rode in great haste for the coast and took ship to England. He sailed from Ostend on 20 June but weather conditions prevented the ship from putting in at Dover harbour as planned. Sailing up the coastline, high winds also prevented a landing at Ramsgate but Percy had himself rowed ashore in the small bay before Broadstairs village in Kent.
The Duke of Wellington writing his famed ‘Waterloo Dispatch’ after the battle.
Most authorities (such as Wellington himself in his first dispatch) state that Percy carried only two Eagles, those of the 45th and 105th Ligne. However, it is possible that a third was taken at Waterloo but this has never been confirmed. The sight of these standards jutting from the coach window attracted great attention in London, many guessing their appearance heralded a wonderful victory as they were rarely captured. Recent news of Quatre Bras had been ambiguous, so Percy’s arrival was greeted with jubilation.
Finding Lord Bathurst absent from Horse Guards (then Headquarters of the British Army), he sought to deliver the dispatch to Prime Minister Lord Liverpool, who was also not at his official residence of 10 Downing Street. Charles Arbuthnot, Secretary to the Treasury, then accompanied him to see the Prime Minister, who they found dining with his Cabinet. Initially sceptical, Lord Liverpool became ecstatic when Percy read Wellington’s dispatch aloud to the Cabinet and insisted that he convey the news to the Prince Regent.
FRENCH EAGLES
These standards were personally bestowed by the Emperor to each regiment (originally to each battalion but they were allotted to each regiment by 1815) and were among the most highly venerated symbols of the First Empire. Their design was based upon standards carried by the Imperial Legions of Ancient Rome, the martial achievements of which Napoleon admired. All battalions carried flags of some kind but Eagles (as well as symbolizing regimental pride and honour) were a visible indication to the men of the direction their main formation was heading in, where officers could be found and provided a rallying point for them to form upon.
The Eagle itself was 12.2in high (31cm) with a wingspan of 10in (25.5cm) and cast of bronze with a gold alloy finish. Its wings were spread with its head turned to the left and the eagle clutched a thunderbolt in one claw. It rested upon a 2in (5cm) high plinth bearing the number of the regiment to which the standard belonged. It weighed slightly less than 4lb (1.85kg) and regiments considered them more important than the accompanying flag. It surmounted a sturdy black pole 6.7ft (2m) long and the regimental flag was suspended below with their battle honours emblazoned upon it.
A reconstruction of a French Eagle on the roof of Eagle House at Broadstairs in Kent. In the background is the beach where the captured Eagles of the 45th and 105th regiments were brought ashore by Major Percy along with Wellington’s ‘Waterloo Dispatch’.
By 1815, a porte-aigle (‘eagle bearer’) was appointed to carry the treasured standard, usually a junior officer of proven courage and long service armed with a sword and two pistols. Both he and the colour guard of sergeants, who were also veterans, were charged with defending their regimental standard with their lives. Standards attracted fire and their capture was highly prized so a place in the colour guard, while a great honour, carrried considerable risk. Capturing a colour was a demonstration of personal bravery and the victorious side always displayed them.
At Broadstairs, where two captured Eagles were brought ashore, a replica Eagle complete with flag and standard is now on display at the Neptune’s Hall Public House, 1–5 Harbour Street, Broadstairs, along with prints of the Napoleonic Wars and photographs of re-enactors. The house on the beach where Percy called at immediately after landing still exists and has recently had a replica Eagle placed on its roof to commemorate the event. A plaque on its railings reads:
Admiral House used to be the headquarters of the Coast Blockade. On the 21st June, 1815 Major Percy, part of the homecoming fleet, landed at Broadstairs with the captured French Eagle Standard taken at the Battle of Waterloo. In recognition, Admiral House was re-named Eagle House. As part of the Bicentenary celebrations of this historic victory, this replica Eagle Standard was crafted and donated by John Couzens Roofing during the refurbishment works to Eagle House in 2010.
It should be borne in mind that only two Eagles were taken at Waterloo despite the magnitude of the victory, a full thirty-seven being carried by Guard and line regiments. This testifies to the ferocity with which they were defended even during the rout. Most of the 1815 Eagles were destroyed by regimental officers at the end of the war rather than see them fall into Royalist or enemy hands. It is only fair to record that between two and six colours were captured by the French at Waterloo, although only two were confirmed as lost by their regiments.
The Prince was at a soirée and was greatly surprised at Percy’s appearance as attend ants ushered him in. He still wore travel-stained boots and a uniform marked with the dried blood of another aide killed at Waterloo, having had no time to change. Percy later recorded in his journal that he:
Went … to the Prince Regent (before he came home) at Mrs. Boehm’s in St. James’s Square. Prince much affected. All London thrown into agitation – people quitting balls and assemblies as the news was conveyed of wounds or deaths of relatives. Many ladies fainted. There was a rumour, before the news came, of a great battle and retreat and even defeat. People were much depressed; therefore the reaction was immense.
Kneeling before the Prince Regent, he laid the Eagles at his feet and loudly proclaimed: ‘Victory, Sir! Victory.’ The Prince was greatly affected by the news and became emotional, while other guests, though elated by these glad tidings, made excuses and rushed to check the casualty lists, many having relatives serving under Wellington. The Prince instantly promoted Percy to the rank of lieutenant colonel, as was customary for the bearer of a victory dispatch.
Once news of the victory spread throughout London, great public rejoicing ensued. On 22 June, The Times declared: ‘Glory to WELLINGTON, to our gallant Soldiers, and our brave Allies! BUONOPARTE’S reputation has been wrecked, and his last grand stake has been lost in this tremendous conflict.’
The reverse was true in Paris. On 18 June, a salute was fired at Les Invalides to celebrate Napoleon’s triumph at Ligny and many expected to hear of further successes. However, by 21 June Napoleon was back in the capital, which appeared to confirm the wild rumours already spreading throughout Paris that a great military disaster had occurred. Marshal Davout was astounded when Colonel Michel brought news of the Emperor’s defeat, commenting: ‘I would have you shot for bringing me such news, if I did not know you’, he responded angrily. The chastened Colonel then murmured: ‘Please God, you might have me shot, if that would alter the case.’
Alarmed at talk on the streets and in the Parisian salons, Colonel Labretonnière went to the Elysée Palace seeking firmer intelligence, where he observed: ‘Several cavalry soldiers of the Imperial Guard were sitting gloomily on a bench by the gate, while the tethered horses waited in the yard. One of the horsemen had his face bandaged with a black scarf. The whole scene betokened shame and grief.’ Rumours that the entire Armée du Nord had been destroyed were dismissed as exaggerations but it soon became clear that the French Army had suffered a major defeat, which would have dire repercussions for Napoleon’s cause.
The Prussians were elated after Waterloo, the two Allied armies having not only halted Napoleon’s drive into Belgium but also forced it into ignominious retreat. The Prussian Army was composed of troops whose quality varied immensely, yet they had prevailed, conclusively defeating a fine French Army under the command of a general feared throughout Europe. After the battle, Blücher praised his ‘children’, proclaiming: ‘Never will Prussia cease to exist while your sons and your grandsons resemble you.’ Once Napoleon had been dealt with, Prussia could recover from the humiliations forced upon her by France and stood to gain enormously in the political settlement that would follow.
CASUALTIES
Despite the knowledge that the Allies had won a great victory, the Prince Regent’s tears were appropriate, as he knew the battle was gained at great cost. The casualty lists that appeared in the newspapers over the next few weeks made stern reading, as there had been appalling carnage at Waterloo, in addition to those lost at Quatre Bras, Ligny and Wavre. The Anglo-Allied Army suffered approximately 15,000 casualties at Waterloo alone with the Prussians losing a further 7,000 there and almost 2,500 at Wavre. During the chaos that followed Napoleon’s defeat, many French regiments failed to return accurate figures recording their losses. However, it is estimated that the Armée du Nord lost 25,000 killed or wounded at Waterloo and that around 8,000 prisoners fell into Allied hands. Grouchy’s command sustained around 2,500 casualties at Wavre. Wellington was horrified by the number of men killed and knew that a large proportion of the wounded would die over the next few weeks. He had also suffered many personal losses and when people approached him, offering their felicitations over the following weeks, he responded: ‘Oh! Do not congratulate me. I have lost all my friends.’
French Prisoners being marched into captivity. Huge numbers of French soldiers fell into Allied hands during the 1815 campaign. (Navy & Army Illustrated, 1897)
In addition to this, many men were missing and large numbers of the Armée du Nord never returned to their regiments, most historians placing the number of deserters at between 8,000 and 10,000 men. The Allies also sustained widespread desertions, particularly in the immediate wake of Ligny and Quatre Bras but the majority of these returned to their colours once it became clear which way the campaign was going. At this point, the overall losses were more even when the former battles are taken into account with the French suffering approximately 60,000 killed, wounded or missing compared to around 55,000 Allied casualties. Yet from a national point of view, the Allies could afford to lose larger numbers as they expected massive reinforcements to arrive from Austria and Russia, while the French could not replace men so easily.
To put a more human face on these dry statistics, almost every unit within the Anglo-Allied Army that fought at Waterloo sustained horrendous casualties. Those in the thick of the action experienced the most drastic reductions in their ranks. For example, Major Baring (whose 2nd KGL Battalion defended the farmhouse of La Haye Sainte) mourned the loss of 63 per cent of his fellow officers killed, wounded or captured. Although some men initially reported as missing returned, 50 per cent of the battalion were listed as casualties. The sorrowful Baring admitted: ‘Whoever I asked after the answer was “Killed”, or “Wounded!” I freely confess that tears came involuntarily into my eyes at this sad intelligence, and the many bitter feelings that seized upon me.’ His division had also suffered terribly and, when they camped that night on the field of battle amidst the slain, there was little merriment around the campfires.
THE PURSUIT
In the immediate aftermath of Waterloo, Anglo-Allied cavalry had not pursued the broken Armée du Nord much further than the French ridge before Vandeleur handed over command of the pursuit to Gneisenau. Since both men and horses were tired after fighting for hours, he was keen to do this. The exhaustion of the horses also meant that his cavalry would be less effective as it took away their greatest asset – their mobility.
Gneisenau was able to commit almost 4,000 relatively fresh cavalry to pursue the French, although it has to be borne in mind that they had marched from Wavre and must have been jaded to some extent. An effective pursuit was vital to reap the benefits of a victory during this era. Most offensive military operations were designed to force an opponent into withdrawal as the greatest losses were inflicted upon an enemy during the pursuit. The majority of prisoners and the bulk of military material was usually taken during this time and cavalry excelled in this role due to their speed and manoeuvrability.
French gunners continued to fire on the enemy advance as their infantry fled past them but joined the rout when their batteries were seriously threatened. Although some artillerymen kept their nerve, harnessing their guns to their teams and trying to withdraw, they did not get far as the highway to Charleroi was blocked with fleeing soldiers and they had little chance of outrunning cavalry across country. Virtually all the French artillery fell into Allied hands, with 200 cannon of various calibres taken. The number of guns captured by an army was used to illustrate the scale of a victory and, as it was rare to capture as many as fifty cannon, this figure demonstrates the overwhelming Allied success at Waterloo. In addition, around 1,000 artillery caissons and wagons of various kinds were captured during the pursuit. The loss of this expensive ordnance would be extremely hard for the French to replace swiftly.
The Armée du Nord had been so conclusively defeated that the rout continued as the fugitives reached Charleroi. Baron Peyrusse (Napoleon’s paymaster) bravely tried to save Napoleon’s war chest, which was being carried in the treasury wagon. When he and his escort reached the town, he quickly realized that they would never get over the bridge with a heavy vehicle. The river was at least 43yd (40m) wide at this point and some men, jostling with their fellows in their haste to cross, fell in and drowned.
Peyrusse was distributing bags of gold among his escorts, relying upon their honesty to return it, and hoping that this ploy would save a portion of the treasury, when Prussian cavalry fell upon the soldiers milling in Charleroi’s streets. Cries of: ‘Save yourselves!’ and ‘The Prussians are upon us!’ went up and, in the resulting uproar, the wagon was overturned and abandoned. Men from both sides then looted the wagon and thousands of francs disappeared into the pockets of common soldiers.
The Inn of La Belle Alliance suffered considerable damage during and after the battle as the vengeful Prussians pursued the French. (Denis Dighton)
The Prussians wreaked a cruel vengeance on the fleeing French, taking few prisoners, and cutting down many men during the early stages of the pursuit. By 9.00pm that evening the pursuit was fully underway but Gneisenau halted operations just after midnight due to increasing losses and the gathering darkness causing confusion, the leading elements having reached Frasnes by the time they stopped. The Prussians resumed their pursuit in the early hours but, while many stragglers were overtaken, the French had recovered sufficiently to cover their retreat as they approached the Belgian border with cavalry (largely drawn from regiments of the Imperial Guard).
THE INVASION OF FRANCE
Napoleon travelled toward Paris by way of Charleroi and subsequently through Philippeville. The panicked rush subsided once the fugitives reached the frontier and he ordered Soult to rally and regroup the army in the region of Laon while he headed for the capital to organize the defence of France. During the journey, he wrote: ‘All is not lost … There is still time to retrieve the situation.’ He correctly surmised that Wellington and Blücher would not pause at the frontier in order to mount an immediate invasion rather than await the other Coalition armies. Napoleon now intended to fight a defensive campaign along similar lines to the one he had fought in 1814.
Although France had suffered a catastrophic reverse at Waterloo, Napoleon still had great resources at his disposal and, for a time, his plan was possible. Furthermore, the vast Russian Army still lay a considerable distance from France and the Austrians had suffered setbacks already. General Rapp, despite having a small army by the standards of the day, had won a minor victory at Germesheim, thereby delaying Schwarzenburg’s advance considerably. Marshal Suchet had also mounted an offensive in the south by invading Savoy upon his own initiative.
Combining the remnants of the Armée du Nord with Davout’s forces defending Paris, Napoleon could field around 117,000 men. If French morale had recovered sufficiently, he was confident that Wellington and Blücher would be unable to take the city until reinforced. The Emperor also knew that 150,000 conscripts were undergoing training and would soon become available to him. In combination with his armies on the frontiers, he might be able to defeat the invasion before the other Coalition powers reached France.
However, this was not to be, once the scale of the defeat at Waterloo became known. Both the Senate and Chamber of Deputies united in opposing the Emperor’s proposals, declaring themselves as being in permanent session, fearing that he might dissolve them. Some members went further, demanding that Napoleon abdicate or be deposed. Outraged by this defeatism, the Emperor exploded: ‘What! And if they take no action, the enemy will be at our gates within a week. Alas, I have made them used to such great victories that they cannot bear a single day of misfortune!’
The 2nd Foot Guards (Coldstream) at camp in the Bois de Boulogne as the French are pursued into France.
Many believed their generals had betrayed the French Army and Napoleon still enjoyed considerable support among the common people and the military. Parisians in particular seemed willing to fight but the elite in society rapidly turned upon him, considering his regime doomed. Indeed, ministers such as Fouché had entered into secret negotiations with the Allies shortly after hearing about the reverse, if not before.
Napoleon briefly contemplated using the army to dissolve the government in order for him to rule alone. However, the situation was very different to 1799 when he had mounted a coup d’état. Marshal Davout declared that he would oppose such action as the nation was too war weary to stand for further bloodshed, especially where their fellow countrymen were concerned. Becoming despondent in the face of unified opposition, Napoleon abdicated his crown for a second time on 23 June.
The Allies swiftly crossed the frontier, Wellington advancing through Nivelles and Maubeuge, while the Prussians marched through Charleroi towards Avesnes. The Anglo-Allied Army paused to take the fortresses at Cambrai and Péronne, which put up brief resistance, and Blücher secured the Prussian advance in a similar manner during his march, intending to converge with Wellington before Paris.
A Provisional Government was formed and it ordered Marshal Grouchy to take command of the army from Soult when he reached Laon. Grouchy had conducted a skilful withdrawal from Wavre, encountering little interference from the Allies so far. His army was still intact and, after combining with Soult’s forces, he headed towards Paris with at least 50,000 men. Grouchy then encountered the Prussian vanguard and fought small rearguard actions at Compiègne and Villers-Cotterêts on 27 June. A further clash took place at Senlis but none of these actions seriously delayed the Prussian advance and Grouchy reached the capital on 29 June.
The Prussians exacted some harsh reprisals in the countryside during their advance, in revenge for French excesses in 1806, and this stiffened the resolve of Parisians to resist. Furthermore, Davout now had a large number of troops at his disposal and Napoleon, brooding at Malmaison, realized that there was a good opportunity for a successful counter stroke against the Allies as they tried to perform the difficult task of advancing on a concerted front. He offered his services as a mere general to the Provisional Government, arguing that their national honour demanded revenge for Waterloo. However, French politicians harboured no illusions about the kind of political advantage Napoleon would reap if he succeeded and he was denied the chance to fight the ‘Battle of Paris’ that he craved.
This political situation had developed just as Napoleon had predicted upon his resumption of power. France would not support him in a protracted and destructive war, even if it became one of national defence. The invasion of Belgium had been his final chance and, although it came close to success, its ultimate failure resulted in his complete downfall.
On 29 June, skirmishes were fought to the north of Paris and Blücher, finding the defences strongest there, began to manoeuvre his forces to approach the city from the west. His animosity towards Napoleon was such that he also sent a large cavalry detachment into the city tasked with seizing the former Emperor or killing him if he resisted. Marshal Davout had the bridge across the Seine nearest to Malmaison destroyed as the Prussians approached but only narrowly thwarted their mission.
Nonetheless, skirmishes fought on the outskirts of Paris demonstrated that the French were still willing to fight on as the Allied probes encountered strong resistance. A Prussian cavalry squadron was cut off during one clash, being killed or captured to a man. Witnessing the fighting from her home, Countess Hocquart supposedly shouted: ‘Bravo! Bravo! Kill all those people for me!’ and applauded as Prussian hussars were shot down.
Therefore, although the Allies were confident of taking Paris, they welcomed French emissaries sent to negotiate a peace settlement. The Provisional Government was also keen to avoid the further bloodshed and suffering that a prolonged siege of Paris would bring. They reached an accord on 3 July with the government recognizing Louis XVIII as their sovereign and agreeing that the French Army would evacuate Paris and retire south of the River Loire, allowing the Allies to enter the capital. Accordingly, the Prussians marched into Paris on 7 July and Louis XVIII soon returned to the Tuileries Palace.
SURRENDER AND EXILE
Napoleon had fled Paris on 29 June and intended to seek asylum in America, a nation that had previously been a French ally. He approached Fouché to gain passage on a frigate to take him there but this duplicitous politician prevaricated over making the necessary arrangements. Undeterred, he actually put out from Rochefort, sailing as far as Aix, but it soon became clear that Royal Navy squadrons blockading the coast were present in such strength that they were unlikely to cross the Atlantic without being stopped.
Returning to Rochefort, he heard that the Provisional Government intended to arrest him. General Flahaut approached Marshal Davout seeking travel permits for Napoleon, who was disgusted when he heard that his former master feared arrest and contemplated surrender. ‘Your Bonaparte is taking his time’, he scornfully remarked. ‘Tell him from me that he had better make haste. If he does not start at once, I shall have to have him arrested. I will go myself, in fact, and arrest him.’ In former times, Napoleon had flown into one of his infamous rages when former friends turned upon him. Now he merely shrugged despondently when told of Davout’s reaction, turning to Flauhaut and murmuring: ‘Let him come. I am ready to offer him my neck.’
With his options swiftly running out, Napoleon wrote to the British Prince Regent offering to surrender and throw himself at his mercy: ‘Your Royal Highness … I have ended my political career and come, like Themistocles, to seat myself at the hearth of the British people. I put myself under the protection of her laws and address this entreaty to Your Highness as the most steadfast and the most generous of my foes.’
On 15 July, Napoleon boarded HMS Bellerophon in Rochefort harbour and surrendered to Captain Frederick Maitland RN. He was conveyed to England but the Coalition powers still considered him a potential threat to the peace of Europe. Even in defeat, he exerted a strong appeal to those who sought political change. When HMS Bellerophon reached the English coast, it was not allowed to dock and was directed to a series of anchorages off the coast, while the Cabinet debated their options.
Sailing into exile. Napoleon may have fallen for the last time but his influence on Europe was immense and would long outlast the man himself. (W Q Orchardson)
Fears about the influence Napoleon could exert were more than mere paranoia or vindictiveness on the part of the authorities. When HMS Bellerophon lay anchored in Torbay, many curious citizens rowed out to the ship just to catch a glimpse of him during the few days it remained there and the Royal Navy had difficulty discouraging sightseers. It is likely that hundreds, if not thousands, would have come to see the ‘notorious tyrant’ if he been allowed ashore.
The British press had already commented extensively upon Napoleon’s defeat and much was made of his unwillingness to fight to the bitter end. A few days after Waterloo, The Times commented: ‘It is clear that he retreated; nor are we prepared to hear that he fled with haste or cowardice; but we greatly suspect that he did not court an honourable death. We think his valour is of the calculating kind … ’ Yet it was impossible to contest that he had humbled some of the greatest nations on the Continent and challenged all Europe for the past fifteen years, coming alarmingly close to success. Even some of his worst enemies grudgingly admitted to a certain admiration for his talents, if not his methods or ambitions. He was still a very dangerous man and the establishment decided to deny him his liberty and send him far from France.
Napoleon dictates his memoirs in exile on St Helena. (Myrbach)
Napoleon never received a reply from the Prince Regent and sailed into exile on the remote isle of St Helena in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean. Here escape was virtually impossible and he was well beyond the reach of his supporters or those he could still influence. He stepped ashore on 17 October 1815 and was held under house arrest on St Helena until his death in 1821.
REDRAWING THE MAP
Although rudely interrupted by the return of Napoleon, the delegates for the Congress of Vienna swiftly reconvened after his defeat and exile. Once again, they attempted to redraw the map of Europe and restore the balance of power on the Continent. The actual end of hostilities was formalized by the Treaty of Paris on 20 November 1815. France was compelled to return all the art treasures looted during Napoleon’s previous campaigns and obliged to pay an indemnity of £28 million (although it is uncertain whether the French ever paid this in full). France also had to endure an occupation by an army of 150,000 men for 5 years (actually withdrawn after only 3 years) and renounce all claims to territory seized since 1792.
France’s economy had been damaged by years of incessant warfare and recovering from war damage and paying the indemnity presented great difficulties at first, particularly with the added burden of a poor harvest in 1816. Furthermore, Royalist mobs killed hundreds of Bonapartists in what became known as the ‘white terror’, murders that cast a shadow over the new regime just as it began. The restored monarchy was eager for revenge and executed a number of men who had defected to Napoleon on his return including Marshal Ney and Maréchal de Camp Charles de la Bédoyère, despite pleas for leniency. Even though Wellington argued that Ney’s life should be spared, the Bourbons insisted on executing this gallant soldier by firing squad due to his perceived treachery. A general amnesty was declared but many of those who had served Napoleon were outlawed or exiled. The phrase ‘If you have not lived through 1815, you do not know what hatred is’ became a popular French saying after these reprisals.
Marshal Ney was executed by firing squad in the aftermath of Waterloo as the Bourbon monarchy took steps to avenge perceived disloyalty. (The Leisure Hour, 1870)
It is true that Napoleon was bitterly unhappy in exile and was sent to St Helena in a hurried and slightly deceitful manner. Yet many hardliners called for his death and it is to the credit of the peacemakers that they resisted these demands for vengeance. Although Napoleon was a far better man than many dictators who he is often compared with, his dynastic ambitions had caused widespread destruction and massive loss of life. Many autocrats toppled from power over the past 200 years have suffered far worse fates than that which befell Napoleon Bonaparte.
The settlement was surprisingly generous considering what the victorious Allies could have imposed upon France, with enormous damage sustained across the Continent between Moscow and Lisbon. Indeed, considering that the wars fought between 1792 and 1815 reached Egypt, South America and the Indian subcontinent, many historians class them as ‘world wars’ due to the extent of their influence. Certainly, the detrimental effects of the wars spread well beyond Europe itself. It is therefore unsurprising that the decisive battle, which brought this destructive period to an end, was greeted with considerable, almost universal relief.
The two main motives of the Congress of Vienna were to restore territory and power to royal houses dispossessed during the wars and reward the victors of 1815. Although Talleyrand continued to exert a powerful influence, succeeding in preventing the break up of France, the fear generated by Napoleon’s final attempt to regain power led to reactionary feeling at the negotiation table. This assisted Tallyrand’s opponents, such as Castlereagh and Metternich, and subsequently Austria, Russia, Prussia and Britain all reaped substantial benefits while France’s influence over Europe was much reduced.
It can be claimed that delegates largely ignored the social and nationalistic issues raised by the wars, thereby storing up problems for future generations. Certainly, the revolutions that took place in 1830 and 1848 might have been avoided if these problems had been properly addressed. Yet their deliberations resulted in a general peace throughout Europe for almost four decades. Even the conflicts that followed subsequently (such as the Crimean and Franco-Prussian Wars) did not match those of 1792–1815 for destruction and social upheaval. Although there is much to criticize about the Congress of Vienna, its delegates did ensure that Europe did not suffer similar destruction until the First World War of 1914–18. The Battle of Waterloo had permitted them the chance to achieve this and in that sense alone, it was a truly decisive battle.
WATERLOO’S LEGACY
Since the fall of Napoleon, the name Waterloo has entered the English language as a metaphor for final defeat. It is common, when someone has failed in something or suffered a catastrophe from which it is impossible to recover, for people to say that they have ‘met their Waterloo’.
However, the battle was not always known by this name as the French referred to the clash as the ‘Battle of Mont St Jean’ for many years afterward. Since the possession of this tiny village and its crossroads dominated the actions of the participants, this was quite fitting. Marshal Blücher believed differently, writing to the governor of Berlin that: ‘The battle was fought in the neighbourhood of some isolated buildings on the road from here to Brussels, bearing the name “La Belle Alliance”, and a better name can hardly be given to this important day. The French Army is in complete dissolution, and an extraordinary number of guns have been captured.’
The Prussian contribution to the victory had been immense, being present in sufficient numbers to influence Napoleon’s command decisions from at least 1.30pm onwards. Indeed, one of Napoleon’s ADCs later commented: ‘the eyes of the entire army turned towards the right’ as they arrived in increasing numbers. Yet the battle would not have been fought and won if the Anglo-Allied Army had not stood and fought, despite the fact that Wellington could not be certain of receiving Prussian support. Ultimately, the victory that ended Napoleon’s career had been a combined Allied effort, so Blücher’s suggestion made a lot of sense and seemed highly appropriate.
Wellington always believed in naming his battles after significant features or the place where he had established his headquarters. Considering that he had never lost a major battle, this was not entirely inappropriate. He also wrote his famous ‘Waterloo Dispatch’ from his headquarters during the early hours of 19 June and, since this was widely published in the newspapers, the name swiftly became well known to the public in Britain. Although Waterloo was a full 3 miles (4.8km) behind the Anglo-Allied front line, the name stuck and became forever associated with the battle. The name did not win universal approval, as Robert Southey wrote in The Poet’s Pilgrimage to Waterloo after visiting the battlefield: ‘Why call it the Battle of Waterloo? … call it Mont St Jean, call it La Belle Alliance, call it Hougoumont, call it La Haye Sainte, call it Papelotte – anything but Waterloo’. Yet these arguments have now become academic as the word has entered the English language and the battle will always be known by this name.
BRITISH ARMY AWARDS
While the Prussians and the Kingdom of the Netherlands rewarded their soldiers for service during the 1815 campaign, the British were particular generous regarding Waterloo, with the number of honours and awards bestowed for service there exceeding any given before this date. Most of the regiments who had been present received a battle honour for ‘Waterloo’ to be emblazoned on their colours. The scale of the victory and the fact that it was the last major battle of the Napoleonic Wars meant it became a proud distinction for a man to be able to claim that he had fought there. The 1st Foot Guards famously gained the title of ‘Grenadier Guards’ in the false belief that they had defeated the French Imperial Guard Grenadiers during the final attack, though in fact they had defeated the Guard Chasseurs.
Prize money was awarded to many survivors, a privilege usually afforded to the Royal Navy after the capture of enemy ships. In the case of Waterloo, a private soldier who had fought that day should receive £2 11s 4d. Officers received higher amounts. For example, captains were entitled to £90 7s 4d and generals as much as £1,275 10s 11d (a considerable amount for the time). The commander-in-chief received a full £61,000 and the British Government paid out huge sums to Waterloo veterans in total, demonstrating how much the country appreciated the army’s efforts and that national magnitude of the victory. This was even reflected in the pension rights for the rank-and-file, both for disability and when they retired. These were meagre enough by modern standards but a man who could prove he had fought that day was entitled to an additional two years towards his pension and extra pay while he remained in the service.
The Waterloo Banquet at Apsley House, where Wellington hosted senior officers who had been present at the battle every year. (Illustrated London News, 1847)
Large numbers of officers and men received promotions and decorations after fighting at Waterloo. All of the general officers received decorations of some kind and the Prince Regent decided to extend the Honourable Order of the Bath, as so many officers were deemed worthy of entering this elite. Consequently divided into three classes, recipients were awarded a Knights Grand Cross (GCB), Knights Commander (KCB) or Companion of Military Order of the Bath (CB). No less that 121 lieutenant colonels gained a CB and the Order was extended to 2,258 members, infuriating some existing members who believed that these elite awards had been handed out to commoners in such numbers that it lessened the meaning of the distinction. Yet these voices were ignored in the acclamation that the victory received.
A Waterloo Medal was also struck to commemorate the victory and this was awarded to all who took part in the battle. This was the first time that a medal was awarded without distinction of rank to every soldier and was introduced at Wellington’s personal request. Indeed, before the Napoleonic Wars, common soldiers had been looked down upon in Britain, often derided as poorly paid and being inclined to drunkenness. Britain valued the service they had displayed in defeating Napoleon and Waterloo was instrumental in changing the public’s attitude towards the army.
Although already famous, Wellington had a vast number of honours bestowed upon him and was forever associated with the victory. Both the Commons and the Lords voted their thanks to the victor and the officers and men who had served under him. His achievement also provided a major boost to his political career and Wellington eventually became Prime Minister and retained a vast (though often unofficial) influence over military affairs long after his active service had ended. Such was the reputation he gained from defeating the greatest general of the age that he became renowned as the ‘father of the country’ in Victorian England, being seen as a role model for success and moral standards. Upon his death in 1852, he was given the rare privilege of an official state funeral (usually reserved for royalty) and was entombed in the Crypt of St Paul’s Cathedral. Memorials to Sir Thomas Picton and Sir William Ponsonby were also placed there, which they probably would not have received but for the roles they played on that fateful day of Sunday 18 June 1815.
BURIED AT WATERLOO
While Waterloo is famed for many things (such as the display of courage on both sides and its effect upon Europe) it was also a horrendous struggle in which thousands of men lost their lives. Others were permanently maimed as a result of wounds they received there and a huge number of horses were slain, injured or put down after the battle. Assistant Commissary General Tupper Carey rode over the battlefield on 19 June and recorded the harrowing sights he saw there:
It was dreadful to see the numbers of the killed, both men and horses on each side of the road. Many bodies were stripped of their clothes. As we descended towards La Haye Sainte, the scene of carnage was still more developed … the dead were innumerable, French and English intermixed. Those who had fallen in the road had been trampled upon by horses and wheels of artillery, into a mass of blood, flesh and clothes, hardly to be distinguished from one another … With the exception of a few parties wandering in the quest of wounded men, as well as plunder, all was quiet as a churchyard.
It took days to pick up all the wounded from the field and even longer to attend to the burial of the dead. Although friends or relations retrieved some bodies, many corpses were so badly disfigured that they were unrecognizable and looters had often removed identifying uniforms and valuables. Blackwoods Edinburgh Magazine printed an even more graphic and unhappy account of the grisly aftermath of Waterloo in 1847:
It is only four days since the burying of the dead bodies which the field of the battle of Mont St Jean was strewed. Several thousand carts had been put in requisition for this operation … After the lapse of ten, twelve, and even fifteen days, there were found among the dead carcasses great numbers of wounded, who, impelled by madness or hunger, had eaten of the bodies of the men and horses that surrounded them. I say madness, because there were some of them who even then cried, in the dying agonies, ‘Vive l’Empereur.’
Only hours after the battle ended, a macabre trade in battlefield relics had begun. Soldiers and civilians prowled the field looking for valuables and souvenirs such as helmets, breastplates and weapons. Opportunists often robbed, or even murdered, wounded men still lying on the field if they refused to hand over valuables. With the bulk of the army now embarked on the invasion of France, it was difficult for the authorities to prevent these depredations. Relics such as epaulettes (signifying a soldier’s rank), musket balls, shako badges and helmets were traded in Brussels markets in the weeks following the battle and, as the relevance of Waterloo became clear, began to command high prices. Even the teeth of the slain were sought after, as dentists were eager to buy them to create false teeth for the rich.
Although many bodies were eventually interred in vast communal graves, notably alongside the main highway and around the area of Wellington’s crossroads, the burial parties were simply overwhelmed by the scale of the task. Corpses had begun to putrefy and there was a strong risk that disease would spread in consequence. Therefore, huge pyres were constructed and thousands of bodies were cremated en masse. Pillars of smoke boiling into the sky from this sad necessity were seen from many miles away.
WELLINGTON’S GREAT STATUE
Although many statues of the Duke of Wellington have been erected throughout Britain, the most famous is probably the ‘Great Statue’ that once stood upon the Wellington Arch (also known as the Constitutional Arch) at Hyde Park Corner in central London. Constructed between 1826 and 1830 by Decimus Burton, the arch itself is of massive construction. It was commissioned by George IV to commemorate Britain’s victories during the Napoleonic Wars and stands opposite Apsley House, Wellington’s main residence in the capital. The arch is hollow, has rooms on three floors, viewing platforms and once housed the capital’s smallest police station.
In 1836, it was decided to place an equestrian statue of Wellington on top of the arch to honour his military and political achievements – the most famous of which being his victory at Waterloo. Accordingly, Mr Matthew Cotes Wyatt (along with his son James) designed and constructed the largest equestrian statue ever made in Britain. It depicts the Duke mounted on Copenhagen (his favourite horse) and dressed in the cape and cocked hat he wore at Waterloo. Wellington personally sat for the sculptor who showed him indicating with a telescope in a commanding fashion.
This colossal work was made of bronze in six pieces with the bulk of the metal used supposedly recast from captured French cannon taken at Waterloo. It stands 30ft (8.5m) high and weighs over 40 tons. Unlike most statues, the horse’s legs are solid in order to bear its great weight. The huge wooden cart, designed to convey the monument to Hyde Park from Wyatt’s foundry, was 20ft (6m) wide and needed twenty-nine horses to drag it through the streets to its unveiling in 1846 before an enormous crowd.
Yet according to the Illustrated London News of that year, the size of the statue provoked considerable ridicule as it looked out of proportion even when placed upon the massive triumphal arch, which stands over three storeys high. Burton also objected, saying that he had never intended the arch to withstand so much weight and feared that it might eventually collapse. Letters appeared in the newspapers and many called for its removal. Nevertheless, Queen Victoria ordered that it must remain (at least during the Duke’s lifetime) as relocating it might offend a great British hero.
Although regarded as an eyesore by many Londoners, the statue stayed until Prince Edward (later King Edward VII) suggested its relocation to Aldershot Military Town, ‘where it will be highly regarded by the Army’. Parliament agreed and the British Army dismantled it and conveyed it there in 1885. Wellington’s great statue now stands upon Round Hill near the Royal Garrison Church in Aldershot. Eventually the site became overgrown but the army and local volunteers cleared it in 2004 and the statue was re-bronzed. It is now the responsibility of the Friends of the Aldershot Military Museum.
This colossal statue of Wellington was considered too large even for the vast triumphal Wellington Arch and eventually relocated. (Illustrated London News, 1846)
A bronze Triumphal Quadriga (the Angel of Peace driving a chariot) replaced Wellington’s statue in 1912 and the arch is a popular tourist attraction. Magnificent views of London, particularly towards Buckingham Palace, can be seen from its viewing platforms. A more modest, although still larger than life size, replica of Wellington’s statue stands before the arch and directly opposite Wellington’s former house. Four statues of British soldiers, whose regiments fought at Waterloo, stand around the statue’s base. Apsley House is still owned by the Wellesley family and is often known as No. 1 London. It contains a museum with a large collection of unique ‘Wellingtonia’ and is a joy to visit for anyone with an interest in the Duke and nineteenth-century history.
Burial of the dead after the Battle of Waterloo. (Denis Dighton)
IN REMEMBRANCE
While monuments would be raised at Waterloo itself (these are covered in detail elsewhere in this guidebook), related statues and monuments were erected far beyond the battlefield itself. In the aftermath of his famous victory, statues of Wellington were erected in London, Glasgow, Aldershot and even further afield. Indeed, some cities were named after him, including New Zealand’s capital city. Many more street names, railway stations, towns and cities were named in honour of the battle and Waterloos can be found in North America, Australia, Canada, Guyana, New Zealand, Sierra Leone, Suriname and Trinidad. Some famous examples in England are Waterlooville in Hampshire and Waterloo railway station in London.
The name has even caused controversy in more recent times when London’s Waterloo railway station was initially considered as the main terminus for the Eurostar train service in the capital. As this service runs between London and Paris, travelling through the Channel Tunnel, gaining French approval at the planning stages was of paramount importance. Although there were many reasons for the eventual selection of St Pancras railway station, it is thought that Waterloo’s name was held against it. The authorities believed that choosing a station named after a great French defeat might offend French visitors and, since most Londoners were likely to oppose a name change, St Pancras was chosen instead.
Officers who had died at Waterloo had monuments and tombs erected in their hometowns or elsewhere. Even many years afterwards the battle’s fame ensured that a man who had fought there was likely to have the fact recorded on his headstone by his relatives. These range from small gravestones to large monuments such as that erected for General Picton in his hometown of Carmarthen. However, it should be remembered that most of the rank-and-file who fought at Waterloo were eventually buried without any kind of grave marker due to poverty so the vast majority of those commemorated were officers.
Thackeray wrote Little Travels and Road-side Sketches that included passages about touring the battlefield and commented upon the lack of specific monuments to common soldiers when looking at graves in Waterloo village. He wrote:
But I confess fairly, that in looking at these tablets, I felt very much disappointed at not seeing the names of the men as well as the officers. Are they to be counted for nought? A few more inches of marble to each monument would have given space for all the names of the men; and the men of that day were the winners of the battle. We have a right to be as grateful individually to any given private as to any given officer …
While there was some justice to this sentiment, he was perhaps unaware of just how many men died at Waterloo, which in itself would render recording so many on small gravestones out of the question. Nonetheless, this situation was unjust and similar calls eventually led to the construction of communal monuments on many battlefields. Yet even these did not include a complete list of names, which in fairness was very hard to compile from often incomplete or inaccurate records. Such problems are clearly illustrated by the massive size of monuments for more modern conflicts, which also demonstrate the horrific scale of losses incurred in the twentieth century.
One spectacular example commemorating a Waterloo veteran is the tower raised for Lord Uxbridge on the Isle of Anglesey. Uxbridge was made Marquess of Anglesey, largely due to his exploits during the battle and the column is 100ft (30.4m) tall and surmounted by a statue of the general in the uniform of the 7th Hussars. Visitors can climb to the foot of the statue and the location affords splendid views out over the Menai Strait. Plas Newydd, the most impressive of this nobleman’s former residences, stands less than 2 miles (3.2km) away from the column. A small Waterloo museum is located here, displaying numerous relics associated with Lord Uxbridge and the battle.
The Anglican clergy gave thanks for the victory over Napoleon, which signified the end of so much bloodshed, and asked the British Government to pay for churches as a national offering for the salvation of Europe. Despite the slaughter that had taken place at Waterloo, Christians were so relieved that thanksgiving services were held in churches all over Europe for the victory. The Literary Panorama and National Register of 1815 printed the words of a thanksgiving prayer that began:
O God the Disposer of all human events, without whose aid the strength of man is weakness, and the counsels of the wisest are as nothing, accept our praise and thanksgiving for the signal victory which thou hast recently vouchsafed to the Allied Armies inFlanders. – Grant O merciful God, that the result of this mighty battle, terrible in conflict, but glorious beyond example in success, may put an end to the miseries of Europe, and staunch the blood of Nations …
Feeling in the British Government was so euphoric after the army’s success that they granted a huge amount of money for the Church Building Commission, set up under Joshua Watson. Initially they donated £1 million (roughly £50 million in today’s money) and proposed the construction of eighty-five churches, costing an average of £20,000 each.
The renowned architect Sir John Soane received commissions to build some of the Waterloo churches in London and constructed Holy Trinity (Marylebone Road), St Peter’s (Walworth Road) and St John’s (Bethnal Green). In the financial slump that followed the Napoleonic Wars, this project understandably became controversial but Parliament voted to give additional funds when the scheme went over budget, demonstrating the strength of feeling regarding Waterloo.
The Prussians were equally proud of their participation and statues were erected to Marshal Blücher, notably in Berlin, although the monument commemorating the victory at Leipzig 1813 dwarfs almost any other structure. The Prussians had been heavily involved in that titanic struggle and many argue that it was that battle that broke Napoleon’s power and that his return was never likely to succeed after his defeat there.
Unsurprisingly, the French have not been as keen to commemorate the battle that led to the downfall of their First Empire and the restoration of an unpopular monarchy. However, General Cambronne’s tomb in Nantes proudly records the fact that he fought at Waterloo and of course the famous ‘mot de Cambronne’ (see Chapter 9) that he allegedly roared in defiance when called upon to surrender. Most of the French Marshals of Empire, along with other senior officers, lie buried at Père Lachaise Cemetery in Paris. The tombs here are spectacular and ornate but their inscriptions emphasize the French victories they were involved in rather than their final defeat at Waterloo.
This column was raised to commemorate the military achievements of Lord Uxbridge (later Marquess of Anglesey) on the Isle of Anglesey.
Napoleon’s captors deliberately downplayed his funeral when he was buried on St Helena in 1821. Nonetheless, after a more liberal regime took power in France under King Louis-Philippe in 1830, the French successfully petitioned for his remains to be returned in 1840. Napoleon’s statue was restored to the top of the column at the Place Vendôme in Paris and the former Emperor was honoured with an elaborate state funeral in Paris. While still a controversial figure, this sombre occasion was welcomed in the capital as the French recognized that he had done a great deal for France, despite the high price the country paid for his military ventures.
Statues of Napoleon have been erected throughout France with several in Paris (notably at the Champs-Elysées) along with a host of French towns and cities such as Lyons, Boulogne-sur-Mer, Laffray (near Grenoble) and Cherbourg. However, they rarely relate directly to Waterloo. Nevertheless, a new statue has recently been unveiled at Le Caillou (see Chapter 3) which unusually portrays him at the moment of defeat rather than other depictions, which usually show him on horseback or in a more sedate pose.
Napoleon now rests in a spectacular red-porphyry sarcophagus (designed and made by Visconti and Pradier) in the historic military Hôpital des Invalides. Here the light shines down upon the tomb from the massive dome above and it is a popular destination for tourists and military enthusiasts. Interestingly, the tomb of the man who finally ended the career of this military colossus is far more sombre, while still of gargantuan construction, in the catacombs of St Paul’s Cathedral. Far fewer people make a pilgrimage here in comparison to the Invalides and the location is surprisingly obscure, most visitors seeing only the main cathedral above where another monument is dedicated to Wellington. Notwithstanding, this seems fitting as Wellington disdained extravagance unlike the preference of his former adversary.
WATERLOO IN STORY, POETRY AND SONG
Large amounts of fictional and non-fictional works have been published about the Battle of Waterloo and the 1815 campaign. In Britain, the Victorians were immensely proud of the victory at Waterloo and, all over Europe, widespread fascination over Napoleon’s career endured and grew in strength even after his death. In addition to serious histories, novels and poems about Waterloo were published soon after the battle and their number grew over time. Lord Byron visited the field and was inspired to write the Eve of Waterloo, which spoke of events in Brussels before the battle, along with lengthy verses in his epic Childe Harold related to the battle itself.
Sir Walter Scott wrote poetry and prose about Waterloo and the subject inspired many lesser poets, who often wrote in extremely patriotic style. A good example of this was penned in the same month as the battle by an Englishman living in Brussels. Printed in the New Monthly Magazine of 1816, a typical extract reads:
Thrice did Napoleon head the fierce attack,
And thrice the British squadrons drove him back;
Till maul’d and feather’d in the glorious fight,
Th’ Imperial eagle wing’d his rapid flight …
The modern Titan, flying o’er the field,
Saw Gallic pride to British valour yield;
His legions, struck with terror and dismay,
Fled from the field, and England won the day …
Historical fiction also abounds and many authors chose to write about Napoleonic subjects with Waterloo receiving great attention as the battle that had ended the era. Famous authors such as William Makepeace Thackeray, Honoré de Balzac, Marie-Henri Beyle (better known as Stendhal) and Victor Hugo all wrote about the period or Waterloo. Today interest in the period is undiminished and modern authors like C S Forester, R F Delderfield and Bernard Cornwell all wrote extensively about the wars, attracting a wide readership.
While it is true that the accuracy of historically based fiction varies enormously and is often prone to romanticism, these works have certainly kept interest in the period alive far more than more academic works. Naturally, academics have reservations about historical fiction but it is a rare historian who has failed to be inspired by such writers at some stage in his career.
The appeal of Waterloo is such that songs have been composed about heroic moments during the battle or the great men who were present there. During the nineteenth century, folk songs were very important for keeping such events alive in collective memory, especially as illiteracy was far more common at that time. Interestingly, the name of Waterloo still emerges in modern music occasionally. The British rock band The Kinks recorded a single called ‘Waterloo Sunset’ in 1967 which, although it referred to Waterloo railway station specifically, is of course related to the battle. Even more famously, the Swedish group ABBA released a song entitled ‘Waterloo’, which won the Eurovision Song Contest in 1974, both of which ensured that the name endured even in modern popular youth culture for a time.