CHAPTER XXXII.
Assoon as it was known in Brussels that the allied army had retired from Quatre-Bras, and the Prussians from Ligny, the whole population was thrown into a state of agitation not to be described. The 17th was a day of alarm, the 18th one of horror. That part of the old ramparts which faces Waterloo, was crowded at an early hour with people of every description. Until nearly two o'clock, all was conjecture, but from that hour wounded soldiers arrived every minute from the field of blood. At one time it was said Napoleon had been defeated,—at another that he was victorious, and would enter Brussels in the evening. These reports threw the good people into a state of mind bordering on insanity. At first the wounded were few and far between, but in a short time the road was covered with them. About half-past four the alarm of the citizens was at its height,—a French column having been seen on its march to Brussels, but whether as victors or prisoners none could tell,for none had ever inquired. By and bye the column entered, 2000 in number, but not as was anticipated by every body, victors,—but as prisoners of war, being those we captured at three o'clock. Fears however still continued to haunt their breasts, for nothing could convince them but that Napoleon must be the conqueror.
On the arrival of our wounded in Brussels, all ranks vied with each other in acts of personal kindness and attention. Many of the most respectable inhabitants, ladies as well as gentlemen, waited their arrival at the gates, and to each soldier distributed wine, tea, coffee, soup, bread, and cordials of various descriptions. Those who remained at home ministered to the wants of the poor maimed houseless wanderers; dressed their wounds, and if unable, from the severity of their wounds, to proceed farther, a bed was immediately provided for them, on which they might rest their wearied and fractured limbs.
In almost every house there were wounded soldiers. In order to shew the number quartered in these houses, and the country to which they belonged, the inhabitants affixed a paper on their windows or their doors, intimating that they had four wounded English, or four wounded Scotch, &c. Nothing could exceed the attention of the ladies to their patients. In the house where I was quartered there were three ladies, the mother and two daughters. The latter always visited the hospitalsmorning and evening, taking with them such articles of food or raiment as they thought the sufferers required. One morning the youngest returned in tears. Having seen a number of bad cases, the amiable and humane little creature thought that she would be able to view without shrinking the mangled frame of an unfortunate artillery officer, who had lost both his legs. But on entering his chamber, she found the poor sufferer in the agonies of death. This being more than she could bear, she burst into tears—hurried from the apartment—and returned home in the state of mind previously described.
In the Rue de l'Empereur, another family, consisting of an aged mother, a son, and three daughters, set apart two front rooms of the street floor for the accommodation of the wounded. One of them was fitted up with mattresses for those who were completely disabled, and the other as a laboratory and cooking apartment, where all those who could stroll about had their wounds dressed by the young ladies. Whatever medicines or nourishments was required, were distributed with a bountiful hand.
The French wounded were almost all placed in the city hospitals, or the houses of those who had shewn themselves to be any thing but friendly to the pending struggle. Many of the poor wretches, although not able to lift their heads from their pillows, kept constantly crying, "Vive l'Empereur!"One day an officer sent by Louis XVIII. went round the various hospitals to inquire into the wants of the patients, and offer assistance to all who required it. But they replied that they had no king but one, "Vive l'Empereur;" and one of them, finding he had but a short time to live, converted the cry into a kind of song, which he chaunted as long as he could speak.
At the close of the memorable charge made by us at three o'clock, a friend of mine made lawful prize of a beautiful charger, very richly caparisoned. The richness of the furniture led him to expect a pair of handsome pistols in the holsters, but on opening them, he was most agreeably disappointed to find that a good bottle of champaigne occupied the one, and the leg of a fowl and piece of bread the other. Our mouths being much parched at the time, the bottle was instantly decapitated by my friend's sword, who being of a very generous disposition, shared the wine with another officer and myself. It was, without exception, the most delicious glass of champaigne I ever drank.
A French general who was made prisoner on the 18th, having on various occasions rendered himself rather conspicuous by his entire devotion to the cause of the Usurper, was very roughly treated on entering Brussels. To court the favour of the populace, the general had no sooner entered the city, than he, in a true turn-coat style, cried, "Vive le Roi!" But he soon found that hehad committed a most egregious blunder, for, indignant at his bare-faced impudence, the people pelted him with mud and offals, till he quitted the city at the other extremity.
Immediately after the battle, the Bonapartists charged Marshals Ney and Grouchy, with all the misfortunes that had befallen the French army on the 16th and 18th of June. Ney, in a letter to Fouché, attempted to exculpate himself from so foul a charge, but his conduct to Louis XVIII. had made so deep an impression on the minds of the people, that his statement was not generally credited. With us, however, the charge was looked upon as a patched up story, to lessen the glory achieved by the allied armies on the plains of Waterloo.
The fact is, that Napoleon was not betrayed by his Marshals, but by himself. Every man who betrays a friend, is ever after deemed unworthy to associate with honourable men. How much more unworthy must that man be who betrays the interests of his legitimate sovereign, and those of thirty millions of his countrymen? This being the Marshal's crime, was it possible for the French troops either to respect a man loaded with so much guilt, or to place the smallest confidence in him in the hour of danger? I should think not. And therefore conceive that Bonaparte, by appointing Ney to the command of the troops destined to act against the Duke of Wellington on the 16th, actually betrayed his own interests; for it was notorious, that it waswant of confidence in their leader which made from forty to fifty thousand French soldiers, recoil before a force not more than half their number, during the struggle at Quatre-Bras. Had the Marshal's honour been as pure as in his former campaigns, the retreat of some of his troops, so far as Charleroi that afternoon, would never have taken place. No; a single word from his lips would at once have arrested any attempt of the kind. Knowing, therefore, as Bonaparte did, that to Ney's tainted character, he owed a considerable portion of the disgrace brought on his arms at Quatre-Bras, was it not the act of a madman to appoint the same individual to a prominent command on the 18th, and thereby to prepare the way for a fresh defeat, and all its accompanying ills? But tyrants and traitors deserve no better fate than that which overtook Napoleon and his Marshal on the plains of Waterloo.
With regard to the charge against Grouchy, there are no better grounds for it, than the one preferred against his brother Marshal. There is not a doubt but both of them did every thing in their power to secure the victory to their master. The real cause of this charge being preferred at all, may, therefore, I imagine, be traced to the following source. Calculating upon Blucher continuing his retreat, or upon his utter inability to render the Duke of Wellington any efficient assistance for some days, Bonaparte made arrangements for a general attackupon the position of the latter at Waterloo, to favour which, instructions were dispatched to Grouchy to assault that of the Prussians at Wavre with great vigour. Having made his calculations on a false data, as regarded the capabilities of the Prussians to assist their allies, and not discovering his error till on the eve of engaging the allied army, Napoleon found himself all at once placed in a ticklish, or rather in what may be termed, a false position. To extricate himself from this dilemma, two alternatives offered—to retreat—or to endeavour to force the position of the allies, before the Prussians could arrive to their assistance. It has been shewn that he preferred the latter, and was routed. And to throw part of the blame of this step from his own shoulders, Bonaparte trumped up the charge against Grouchy, which was altogether discredited by every member of the allied or Prussian armies.
How are they bandied up and down by fate,By so much more unhappy as they're great?
Whenever a man permits ambition to obtain such an ascendancy over his mind, as to lead him to aspire to the summit of all earthly greatness, from that moment he must be prepared to bear up against every variety of fortune that can assail the human race. To an ambitious man like Napoleon Bonaparte, who raises himself from a very humble condition, to be the arbiter of nations, the temptations of power, wealth, and pleasure, are frequently sopowerful, as to urge him to put in force every species of dissimulation, and every description of treachery, rather than not accomplish the object he has in view. A man like him, previous to being placed at the helm of affairs, is continually muttering something about public liberty, and public good, but the moment he fancies himself so firmly fixed in the royal-seat that he cannot be removed, his song is instantly converted into personal honours and personal riches. When a sovereign, like Napoleon, permits all his views to centre in family interests or personal aggrandisement,—when the sole object of his pursuit is worldly success, rank and fortune, can his people have any other feeling towards him, than unqualified hatred and contempt? Let those of a similar description, who may follow in the wake of Napoleon, reflect seriously on the course they are pursuing, before it is too late, lest, like him, they may ultimately be made to feel the weight of that irresistible arm which is continually suspended over the heads of tyrants, to avenge the cause of the injured and the oppressed.
When two nations are at war, and one of them finds it necessary to submit to the mercy of the other, it exhibits neither a prudent or magnanimous policy on the part of the conqueror, to impose dishonourable terms on the vanquished, when others far less severe may amply suffice. Few have pursued this short-sighted policy to greater lengths than Napoleon Bonaparte, and none have hadgreater cause to repent of their conduct. For to what else can we attribute the powerful opposition he met with on his journey towards universal dominion, in the latter years of his extraordinary reign? To what but his tyrannical and iniquitous conduct towards Spain and Portugal, did he owe the Peninsular war. To what but his insolent and domineering conduct towards all those nations who owned him as a superior or an ally, did he owe the war in Russia in 1812, and those in Germany in 1813 and 1814. Borne to the earth by a grinding tyranny, the inhabitants of those countries, imitating the example of those who had gone before them, turned round on their oppressor at the first favourable opportunity, and with their strength and their courage, increased by despair, rushed against his legions like a torrent, and in their efforts to emancipate themselves from a degrading state of thraldom, continued to perform almost supernatural feats of personal heroism, until they either obtained their object, or died in the attempt. These facts clearly point out the course which every crowned head ought to pursue, who wishes to live respected, and die lamented—they must invariably adopt towards all nations and individuals, a line of policy governed by honour, justice, and humanity.
A charge of cowardice has been preferred against Bonaparte, and by Christian lips too, because he did not choose to die the death of a suicide on the field of Waterloo. To exculpate him from thischarge, it is only necessary to remind his accusers, that—
Our time is fixed, and all our days are numbered;How long, how short we know not: this we know,Duty requires us calmly wait the summons,Nor dare to stir, tillHEAVENshall give permission.Like sentries that must keep their destined standAnd wait the appointed hour till they're relieved.ThoseONLYare the brave who keep their ground,And keep it to the last.
From Waterloo, the French army retreated towards Paris, in a state of complete disorganization, hotly pursued by the Duke of Wellington and Prince Blucher. The Duke entered France by Bavay, the Prince by Beaumont. From Malplacquet, the English General, on the 21st June, addressed a proclamation to the French people, intimating that he was about to enter their country to assist them in throwing off the iron yoke of Napoleon. On the following day his head-quarters were at La-Cateau. On the 24th, Sir Charles Colville captured Cambray, and on the 26th, Louis XVIII. entered it on his way to Paris. The same day General Maitland, with a brigade of Guards, took possession of Peronne, after a slight resistance.
On the arrival of the united armies in the vicinity of the capital, preparations were made to drive the remains of the French army from it, or compel the whole to surrender. Blucher, crossing the Seine at St Germain, on the 1st July, advanced towardsthe capital by St Cloud, on the heights of which he was warmly received on the 2nd by the enemy, but after a severe conflict, he succeeded in establishing himself in the village of Issy. Here, however, he was attacked early on the following morning, but finally beat off his assailants. Failing in this attempt, and seeing the allied army ready to storm their entrenchments on the north of the city, the enemy solicited a suspension of hostilities, and the same evening agreed to quit the capital, and retire behind the Loire. The French troops accordingly began their march on the 4th, and by the afternoon of the 6th the whole had proceeded towards their destination. The Prussian and allied armies entered Paris on the 7th, and Louis XVIII. on the following day.
Some of the regiments newly arrived from America, were thrown into Montmartre, and one brigade of British infantry occupied the Champs-Elysees. The rest of the British army were encamped in the Bois, de-Boulogne, and down the right bank of the Seine, as far as St Ouen. Several of the gates of Paris were held by British, and the remainder by the troops of the other allied powers. For some days our officers were openly insulted in the streets, and more than one of them actually spit upon from the windows of several houses near the Palais-Royal.
In company with a medical friend, I quitted Brussels in the first week of July, and proceedingby Braine, La-Compte, Mons, Bavay, Cateau, La-Chatelet, Peronne, Roya, Gournay, Pont-de-St-Maxance, and the Louvre, rejoined my corps, encamped behind the village of Clichy, on the right bank of the Seine.