14

The Attack of the Imperial Guard

With the Prussians bearing down on his flank and with his cavalry weakened and exhausted by its attacks upon the British squares, Napoleon had only one body of men left – the infantry of the Imperial Guard.

Napoleon’s Guard was like no other. At its peak it had reached a total of 35,000 infantry, 8,000 cavalry and 200 guns. Not all of its component regiments were considered elite, indeed many of the regiments that formed what was termed the Young Guard were often new recruits.

The next in seniority were those regiments that formed the Middle Guard, with the Old Guard being the most prodigious in the Army. Very high entry standards had to be met for entry into the Old Guard. When he returned to power in 1815, Napoleon maintained these high standards. A minimum of twelve years’ service was required for the infantry of the Old Guard, and eight for the cavalry and artillery. All had to have served in several campaigns. Such was the quality of l’armée du Nord, for the Waterloo campaign that even those that sought to serve in the Young Guard needed to have had a minimum of four years’ service.¹

The Imperial Guard’s reputation was second to none. Though Napoleon held the Old Guard back, only using it when necessary, everyone knew that when the Old Guard was called into the attack, it spelt the end for the enemy. That time had now come.

He sent four battalions of the Old Guard – three of Grenadiers and one of Chasseurs to support the Young Guard and stabilise the situation on the right flank. Then, with the rest of the Old and Middle Guard infantry, Napoleon launched his final attack upon Wellington’s thinning line.

The problem was that the sound of gunfire could be heard to the east. If the French troops knew that the Prussians were about to fall on their flank they might well refuse to commit themselves to an attack against the British. Napoleon knew this only too well but he decided to use this to his advantage, by telling his men that the gunfire heralded the arrival not of Blucher, but Grouchy!

He sent one of his aides to inform Ney of the appearance of Grouchy. ‘Moniseur le Maréchal,’ exclaimed General Dejean, ‘Vive l’Empereur! Voilà Grouchy!’ This ruse worked, as Ney explained, albeit temporarily:

About seven o’clock in the evening, after the most frightful carnage which I have ever witnessed, General Labedoyere came to me with a message from the Emperor, that Marshal Grouchy had arrived on our right, and attacked the left of the English and Prussians united. This General Officer, in riding along the lines, spread this intelligence among the soldiers, whose courage and devotion remained unshaken, and who gave new proofs of them at that moment, in spite of the fatigue which they experienced. Immediately after, what was my astonishment, I should rather say indignation, when I learned that so far from Marshal Grouchy having arrived to support us, as the whole army had been assured, between forty and fifty thousand Prussians attacked our extreme right, and forced it to retire!

Whether the Emperor was deceived with regard to the time when the Marshal could support him, or whether the march of the Marshal was retarded by the efforts of the enemy longer than was calculated upon, the fact is, that at the moment when his arrival was announced to us, he was only at Wavre upon the Dyle, which to us was the same as if he had been 800 leagues from the field of battle.

A short time afterwards, I saw four regiments of the middle guard, conducted by the Emperor, arriving. With these troops he wished to renew the attack, and to penetrate the centre of the enemy. He ordered me to lead them on; Generals, officers, and soldiers, all displayed the greatest intrepidity.²

This was unquestionably the ‘crisis’ point of the battle, as Shaw-Kennedy, the Quartermaster-General of the Third Division, explains:

La Haye Sainte was in the hands of the enemy; also the knoll on the opposite side of the road; also the garden and ground on the Anglo-Allied side of it; Ompteda’s brigade was nearly annihilated, and Kielmansegge’s so thinned, that those two brigades could not hold their position. That part of the field of battle, therefore, which was between Halkett’s left and Kempt’s right, was unprotected; and being the very centre of the Duke’s line of battle, was consequently that point above all others, which the enemy wished to gain. The danger was imminent; and at no other period of the action was the result so precarious as at that moment.³

Spearheading the attack of the Guard were five battalions, about 3,000 men, in battalion squares, formed in columns. These were the regiments of the Middle Guard, the 3rd and 4th Chasseurs and the 3rd and 4th Grenadiers. Baron Duchard’s horse artillery had placed a two-gun team between each battalion. Behind the Middle Guard were about 1,500 men of the Old Guard, the 2nd Battalions of the 1st and 2nd Chasseurs and the 2nd Grenadiers. Naploeon’s most precious regiment, the two battalions of the 1st Grenadiers, remained in reserve.

The course of the battle now hung in the balance, as the officer whose letter from the Camp of Clichy to his friend in Cumberland we have already perused, described:

Buonaparte charged with his Imperial Guards. The Duke of Wellington led on a brigade consisting of the 52nd and 95th regiments. Lord Uxbridge was with every squadron of cavalry which was ordered forward. Poor Picton was killed at the head of our Division, while advancing. But in short, look through the list engaged on that day, and it would be difficult to point out one who had not distinguished himself as much as another. Until eight o’clock, the contest raged without intermission, and a feather seemed only wanting in either scale to turn the balance.

At this hour, our situation on the left centre was desperate. The 5th Division, having borne the brunt of the battle, was reduced from 6000 to 1800. The 6th Division; at least the British part of it, consisting of four regiments, formed in our rear as a reserve, was almost destroyed, without having tired a shot, by the terrible play of artillery, and the fire of the light troops. The 27th had 400 men, and every officer but one subaltern, knocked down in square, without moving an inch, or discharging one musket; and at that time I mention, both divisions could not oppose a sufficient front to the Enemy, who was rapidly advancing with crowds of fresh troops. We had not a single company for support, and the men were so completely worn out, that it required the greatest exertion on the part of the officers to keep up their spirits. Not a soldier thought of giving ground; but victory seemed hopeless, and they gave themselves up to death with perfect indifference. A last effort was our only chance.⁴

Having watched the drama unfold at close quarters, Napoleon’s aide was ideally placed to provide this first-hand account:

Buonaparte himself could not see from the lateral point which he occupied, although it is very true that he was close enough to the enemy’s batteries. As the corps passed him, he smiled, and addressed to them expressions of confidence and encouragement.

The march of these old warriors was very firm and there was something solemn in it. Their appearance was very fierce. A kind of savage silence reigned among them. There was in their looks a mixture of surprise and discontent occasioned by their unexpected meeting with Buonaparte who as they thought, was at their head. In proportion as they ranged up the eminence and darted forward on the squares which occupied its summit the artillery vomited death upon them, and killed them in batches.

This part of the scene came directly under Buonaparte’s eye, without his being able to see what passed on the height itself as he still kept himself, as it were, enveloped in the corner of the ravine. It was then precisely a quarter of an hour from seven o’clock and it was at this very moment that the decisive crisis of the battle commenced.

Buonaparte had then six persons close to him: these were, his brother Jerome, Generals Bertrand, Drouot, Bernard, Colbert, and Labedoyere. At every step which he took, or seemed to take to put his own person in front Generals Bertrand and Drouot threw themselves before his horse’s head, and exclaimed in a pathetic accent: ‘Ah! Sire, what are you going to do? Consider that the safety of France and of the army depends entirely upon you; all is lost if any accident happen to you’. Buonaparte yielded to their entreaties with a real or apparent effort by which he seemed to gain control over himself.⁵

The following description is an extract taken from a letter written by a British staff officer in Paris on 15 July 1815:

Such was the state of affairs at about seven o’clock. Our loss had been immense, that of the enemy considerably greater; but their determination to carry our position appeared undiminished. The Prussians, who since about four o’clock had been seen, at a distance advancing, had about half past five sent forward a small body of troops, which the light troops of the enemy soon obliged to fall back; and the French advanced a force which nearly possessed themselves of the village of Ter la Haye, before which, they, prior to this, contented themselves with skirmishing only.

An anxiety for the arrival of the Prussian army was now to be seen in the countenance of every one, that can better be imagined than described. At length, however, the event so long expected and so much required took place: the Prussians, whose march had been delayed by bad roads and the passage of a defile, began to deploy in very considerable force, and move directly against the right flank of the enemy, whilst the fire of their artillery was soon seen extending even towards their rear.

Those who had witnessed the enormous masses by which we had during the day been attacked, were much surprised at seeing the very numerous artillery and infantry. that Bonaparte opposed to this advance; and they then, if possible, felt more strongly than ever, how happy for us was the diversion thus given by our allies, to so considerable a body of apparently fresh troops, who might otherwise, in spite of the resistance with which the attacks had been hitherto met, have eventually deprived us of victory, by overwhelming numbers. As if, however, in a fit of desperation, it was the moment I have just described that Bonaparte chose for his last, I may almost say, most desperate effort: it was soon evident that (to use, if I recollect rightly, his own words employed on a former occasion) ‘the enemy no longer fought for victory, but for retreat and safety.’ Yet, such was the impetuosity with which this attack was made, so great were the losses we had experienced, that success again appeared almost within his grasp.⁶

Lieutenant Edward Macready was serving with the British 30th Regiment:

It was near seven o’clock, and our front had sustained three attacks from fresh troops, when the Imperial Guard was seen ascending our position in as correct order as at a review. As they rose step by step before us, and crossed the ridge, their red epaulettes and cross-belts put on over their blue great-coats, gave them a gigantic appearance, which was increased by their high hairy caps and long red feathers, which waved with the nod of their heads as they kept time to a drum in the centre of their column. ‘Now for a clawing,’ I muttered, and I confess, when I saw the imposing advance of these men, and thought of the character they had gained, I looked for nothing but a bayonet in my body, and I half breathed a confident sort of wish that it might not touch my vitals.

While we were moving up the slope, [Lieutenant Colonel Hugh] Halkett, as well as the noise permitted us to hear, addressed us and said, ‘My boys, you have done everything I could have wished, and more than I could expect, but much remains to be done; at this moment we have nothing for it but a charge.’ Our brave fellows replied by three cheers. The enemy halted, carried arms about 40 paces from us, and fired a volley. We returned it, and giving our ‘Hurrah!’ brought down the bayonets. Our surprise was inexpressible, when, pushing through the clearing smoke, we saw the back of the Imperial Grenadiers; we halted and stared at each other as if mistrusting our eyesight. Some 9-pounders from the rear of our right poured in the grape amongst them, and the slaughter was dreadful. In no part of the field did I see carcases so heaped upon each other.⁷

Captain H.W. Powell, of the 1st Foot Guards recalled that the 1st Brigade of Guards was ordered by Wellington to take ground to its left and form line four deep:

This brought the Brigade precisely on the spot the Emperor had chosen for his attack. There ran along this part of the position a cart road, on one side of which was a ditch and bank, in and under which the Brigade sheltered themselves during the cannonade, which might have lasted three-quarters of an hour. Without the protection of this bank every creature must have perished.

The Emperor probably calculated on this effect, for suddenly the firing ceased, and as the smoke cleared away a most superb sight opened upon us. A close Column of Grenadiers (about seventies in front) of la Moyenne [Middle] Garde, about 6,000 strong, led, as we have since heard, by Marshal Ney, were seen ascending the rise au pas de charge shouting ‘Vive l’Empereur’. They continued to advance till within fifty or sixty paces of our front, when the Brigade were ordered to stand up. Whether it was from the sudden appearance of a Corps so near to them, which must have seemed as starting out of the ground, or the tremendously heavy fire we threw into them, La Garde, who had never before failed in an attack suddenly stopped. Those who from a distance and more on the flank could see the affair, tell us that the effect of our fire seemed to force the head of the Column bodily back.

In less than a minute above 300 were down. They now wavered, and several of the rear divisions began to draw out as if to deploy, whilst some of the men in their rear beginning to fire over the heads of those in front was so evident proof of their confusion, that Lord Saltoun … holload out, ‘Now’s the time, my boys’. Immediately the Brigade sprang forward. La Garde turned and gave us little opportunity of trying the steel. We charged down the hill till we had passed the end of the orchard of Hougoumont, when our right flank became exposed to another heavy Column (as we afterwards understood of the Chasseurs of the Garde) who were advancing in support of the former Column. This circumstance, besides that our charge was isolated, obliged the Brigade to retire towards their original position.⁸

The attack was described by an officer in the Guards in a letter written shortly after the battle:

After these failures he brought up his Garde Imperiale, just opposite to our brigade, which had formed in line on their advancing. We were all lying under shelter of a small bank, as they covered their advance with a most terrible fire of grape and musketry. Buonaparte led them himself to the rise of the hill, and told them that was the way to Brussels.

We allowed them to approach very near – when we opened so destructive a fire that there were soon above 300 of them upon the ground, and they began to waver. We instantly charged, but they ran as fast as possible. The Duke of Wellington observing this crisis, brought up the 42d and 95th, taking the enemy in flank, and leading them himself quite close up. The enemy’s column was entirely dispersed. After this, we were again annoyed with grape and musketry, which obliged us to retire. On fronting, we saw another heavy column of the Chasseurs de la Garde Imperiale.⁹

It was this second Imperial Guard column of the Chasseurs that now had to be countered, as Lieutenant Colonel John Cross, at the time a captain in the 52nd Regiment, explained. He takes up his story after a French cuirassier officer had deserted and ridden up to the 52nd pointing at the direction the French attack was about to be made:

The 52nd halted in two lines ten yards behind the cross road where the ground sloped towards our position … the 52nd wheeled, the left company nearly a quarter circle to the left, and formed … the remainder were formed into two lines, not four deep … A strong company of the 52nd was sent to skirmish in front, and to fire into the Imperial column. At this moment General Adam came to the 52nd from the 71st, and desired the 52nd to move on … The 52nd still moved on passing the entire front of Byng’s [2nd] brigade of British Guards, who were stationary and not firing, about three hundred yards or so to their front, and forming possibly a right angle or perhaps an obtuse angle with the line of the Guards. At the moment the 52nd commenced the movement, Lord Hill was near the British Guards commanded by Maitland, and no movement on their part had taken place. Therefore it is imagined, when the 52nd commenced the movement, they were shortly followed by the 71st and the whole of General Clinton’s division, the Imperial troops saw their flank and rear were menaced by a mass of troops marching on their flank, they halted …

The 52nd in the mean time had proceeded within a short distance of the rising ground on which the French were formed, when a body of British cavalry were perceived in full speed approaching the front of the left company of the 52nd. The officers of the company gave the order to fire, supposing they had come from the enemy’s column. The three adjoining companies wheeled back to form square. The Battalion at this time was under a heavy fire from the Imperal Guards and the Regiment was halted for a few moments to enable the three companies to rectify their line. At this moment, while the three companies were forming up, the Duke was close to the rear, and said, ‘Well, never mind, go on, go on.’ This halt brought the 71st close on the right of the 52nd … The 52nd then advanced at full speed, the greater part of the French gave way in confusion.¹⁰

This small tribute to the contribution made by the 71st was printed in the Chester Courant on Tuesday, 8 August 1815:

COMPLIMENT. – A letter from an officer of the 71st, speaking of the conduct of that corps on the 18th ult. observes – ‘O!’ by the bye, our piper was in play again! When the imperial guards made their last charge upon us, and when retiring owing to the gallant fire kept up in the square, the piper played up the 71st quick march followed with the charge. Major-General Adam being in the square exclaimed, ‘well done 71st, you are all lions together; and for you piper, you are an honour to your country-forward my lads, and give them the charge in style, as I know and see you can do!’ This was the critical moment that turned the scale of the action, and I do assure you we made them scamper.

Later that same year, on Friday, 17 November 1815, the pages of the Chester Chronicle carried the following account:

It was near seven o’clock when Bonaparte, who had till then remained on the hill, from which he clearly saw all that was passing, contemplated with a look of ferocity the hideous scene of butchery beneath him. The more numerous the difficulties which occurred, the more obstinate did he appear. He was indignant at obstacles which he had so little foreseen, and far from thinking that it was wrong to sacrifice an army, which placed unbounded confidence in him, he incessantly sent fresh troops, with orders to charge and force their way in spite of every resistance. He was several times told, that appearances were bad, and that the troops were exhausted; but his only answer was, ‘Forward, forward!’

A General sent information, that he could not maintain his position, on account of being dreadfully annoyed by a battery, and asked what he was to do? ‘To take the battery,’ said Bonaparte, turning his back on the aide-de-camp!

An English officer, who was wounded and made a prisoner, was brought to him. He made several inquiries, and among the rest, what was the strength of the English army. The officer told him that it was very strong, and would almost immediately be reinforced by sixty thousand men. ‘So much the better,’ said he; ‘the more we meet, the more we shall conquer.’ He dispatched several messengers with dispatches, which he dictated to a secretary, and repeated many times, in a tone of distraction. ‘The victory is mine – remember to say that.’ It was at this period, when all his attempts had been abortive, that information was brought to him of Prussian columns debouching on his right flank, and threatening his rear; but he would not believe these reports, and constantly answered, that these pretended Prussian troops were no other than those of General Grouchy. It was not long, however, before he was undeceived by the violence of the enemy’s attack. Part of the 6th corps was sent to sustain this new shock, until Grouchy’s corps arrived, which was every minute expected. The Prussian corps which now appeared in the field at so critical a juncture, was that of General Bulow.

Bonaparte, without altering his resolution in any degree, was of opinion that the moment was come to decide the day. He formed, for this purpose, a fourth column, almost entirely composed of the guards, and directed it at the pas de-charge on Mont Saint Jean, after having dispatched instructions to every point, that the movement, on which he thought victory to depend, might be seconded. The veterans marched up the hill with the intrepidity which might be expected of them. The whole army resumed its vigour, and the conduct was resumed throughout the line. The guards made repeated charges, and were as often repulsed. Overpowered by an irresistible discharge of artillery, which seemed every moment to increase, these invincible grenadiers saw their ranks constantly thinned; but they closed together with perfect coolness, and advanced into the heat of the fray without intimidation. Nothing arrested their progress but death, or the severest wounds.

The hour of their defeat, however, was come. Enormous masses of infantry, supported by an immense force of cavalry, to which the French could oppose no resistance, as their own was entirely destroyed, poured down upon them from all sides with a degree of fury which made all idea of quarter, on either part, out of the question.

On Saturday, 28 October 1815, the Lancaster Gazette contained this account:

Upon the cavalry being repulsed, the Duke himself ordered our second battalion to form line with the third battalion [of the 1st Guards], and after advancing to the brow of the hill, to lie down and shelter ourselves from the fire. Here we remained, I imagine, near an hour. It was now about seven o’clock. The French infantry had in vain been brought up against our line, and as a last resource, Buonaparte resolved upon attacking our part of the position with his Veteran Imperial Guard, promising them the plunder of Brussels. Their artillery covered them, and they advanced in solid column to where we lay. The Duke, who was riding behind us, watched their approach, and at length, when within an hundred yards of us, exclaimed ‘Up, Guards, and at them again!’ Never was there a prouder moment than this for our country or ourselves.

The household troops of both nations were now, for the first time, brought in contact, and on the issue of their struggle the greatest of stakes was placed. The enemy did not expect to meet us so soon; we suffered them to approach still nearer, and then delivered a fire into them, which made them halt; a second, like the first, carried hundreds of deaths into their mass, and without suffering them to deploy, we gave them three British cheers, and a British charge of the bayonet. This was too much for their nerves, and they fled in disorder.

The situation was repeated over at Plancenoit:

Despite their great courage and stamina, the French Guards fighting in the village began to show signs of wavering. The church was already on fire with columns of red flame coming out of the windows, aisles and doors. In the village itself, still the scene of bitter house-to-house fighting, everything was burning, adding to the confusion. However, once Major von Witzleben’s manoeuvre was accomplished and the French Guards saw their flank and rear threatened, they began to withdraw.¹¹

The Imperial Guard infantry did indeed break and fall back in disorder. Seeing this someone shouted the chilling words ‘La Garde recule’. The Guard had never been beaten before. No-one in the French army could ever imagine such a situation and the effect it had upon them was catastrophic. They knew it was the end.