17

The Pursuit

The Allies may have indeed won the Battle of Waterloo, but there was still a chance that Napoleon could rally his troops. What was needed now was a vigorous pursuit to make sure that the broken l’armée du Nord was unable to reform. A contemporary account of the pursuit was published shortly after the battle:

The pursuit was continued on the part of the British, as long as the light would admit; and even until some mistakes had occurred from the mixture of Prussian, and British troops it was then relinquished to our brave Allies; the Prussian army, who, from having had less to do during the day, were more equal to it, and whose commander, Marshal Blucher, had promised our Field-marshal, when they happily met at the farm of La Belle Alliance after it became dark, that it should be continued without intermission throughout the night; a promise he most faithfully kept.¹

Wellington later told Earl Stanhope of that memorable meeting between the two victorious commanders, which inspired the so-often reproduced painting by Daniel Maclise that hangs in the Palace of Westminster:

Blücher and I met near La Belle Alliance; we were both on horseback; but he embraced and kissed me, exclaiming, Mein lieber Kamerad, and then quelle affaire! Which was pretty much all he knew of French.²

Wellington wrote the following in his official despatch to Earl Bathurst from Waterloo on 19 June:

I continued the pursuit till long after dark, and then discontinued it only on account of the fatigue of our troops, who had been engaged during twelve hours, and because I found myself on the same road with Marshal Blücher, who assured me of his intention to follow the enemy throughout the night. He has sent me word this morning that he had taken 60 pieces of cannon belonging to the Imperial Guard, and several carriages, baggage, &c., belonging to Buonaparte, in Genappe. I propose to move this morning upon Nivelles, and not to discontinue my operations.³

This was followed by another despatch later that day, which was printed in the Norfolk Chronicle of Saturday, 1 July 1815:

MY LORD – I have to inform your Lordship, in addition to my dispatch of this morning, that we have already got here five thousand prisoners taken in the action of yesterday, and that there are above two thousand more coming tomorrow: there will probably be many more. Among the prisoners are the Count Loubau, who commanded the 6th corps, and General Cambrone, who commanded a division of the guards. I propose to send the whole to England by Ostend. I have the honour to be, &c, WELLINGTON

Wellington did indeed send the prisoners back to the United Kingdom, as was reported in the Hampshire Chronicle of Monday, 3 July 1815:

Upwards of 2000 prisoners, taken at the battle of Waterloo, arrived at this port on Tuesday night, in the Cumberland and Ramillies, of 74 guns, the Grampus, of 50, and the Castor frigate. Wednesday morning the same ships sailed with them to Plymouth, for the purpose of lodging them in Dartmoor Prison.

Two thousand eight hundred and forty-five French prisoners were brought over by the Erebus and Foxhound’s convoy. There were 3000 more ready to embark, and 3000 wounded English and French prisoners on their way to Ostend.

The reinforcements destined for our gallant cavalry in Belgium, embarked at Ramsgate yesterday; they consist of detachments from the 7th, 10th, and 18th Hussars, and 11th, 12th, 16th, and 23d Light Dragoons. Besides these, detachments of the Life Guards and Blues marched into Canterbury yesterday, and proceeded this day also for embarkation at Ramsgate.

The declaration of war against France arrived here on Saturday, and occasioned a general bustle in the Dock-yard and among the naval officers. Several ships of war have sailed, and others are expected to sail hourly, with orders to take, sink, burn or destroy all French vessels, whether under the white or tri-coloured flag, and to protect our trade from privateers.

A remarkably detailed account of the pursuit of the French forces was published in the Hull Packet of 28 November 1815:

A very interesting publication has just issued from the French press under the above title [‘Battle of Waterloo’], from which we give the following extract. Several accounts of this memorable engagement have appeared, all of them substantially agreeing as to the fighting part, but the present French account supplies us with a relation of what took place in the retreat, which is not to be found in any other publication; it is therefore, in this respect, very interesting – anything relating to this memorable and decisive battle must be ever so to all true Britons.

The English and Prussians having completely effected a junction, the two Commanders-in-Chief, Wellington and Blucher, met at the farm of La Belle Alliance, and concerted measures for following up their success. The former had suffered very considerably during the action; their cavalry, in particular, being very much fatigued, would find great difficulty in pushing the French in such a lively manner, as to prevent them from rallying: but the Prussian cavalry being fresh, hastened to take the advanced posts, and pressed upon us too closely to allow one minute’s repose.

The mass of fugitives thus crowded together, rapidly passed over the space of two leagues, between the field of battle and Genappe, and at length arrived in that small town, where the greatest part of them thought of stopping, in order to pass the night. With the intention of opposing some obstacles to the enemies’ progress, every exertion was made to accumulate carriages on the road, and to barricade the entrance of the principal street; some pieces were placed in battery, and bivouacs were established in the town and the environs; the soldiers scattered themselves through the houses, for the purpose of seeking for an asylum and food; but hardly were these dispositions made, when the enemy presented himself: a few cannon shot fired upon the cavalry, which were debouching, threw everything into confusion – the camp is immediately in motion, an universal flight takes place, and a disorderly retreat recommences, with more irregularity and confusion than ever.

In the midst of this ‘clearing away’, noted the author of the Hull Packet’s account, ‘no one knew what was become of Buonaparte, who had disappeared. It was confidently asserted that he had fallen in the engagement’:

When this news was announced to a certain General Officer, very well known, he replied, in the words of Megret, after the fall of Charles XII at Frederickstadt – Well! The play is over. – Others asserted, that having charged several times at the head of the guard, he had been dismounted and made prisoner. The same uncertainty prevailed as to the fate of Marshal Ney, the Major-General, and of most of the principal Generals.

Very many persons affirmed that they saw Buonaparte passing on, solely attentive to his own personal safety, in the midst of the crowd, and that they recognised him perfectly well from his grey great coat, and his dappled charger. This last was the true version. Buonaparte, at the moment when the last remaining battalions of the guard which he had led were routed, forced along by them, and enveloped on all sides by the enemy, had thrown himself into an orchard belonging to the farm of La Belle Alliance. It was in that place that he was met by two horsemen of the guard, wanderers like himself, to whom he made himself known, and who became his conductors, opening a passage for him through the parties of Prussian soldiers scattered over the plain; but the greater number of whom, happily for him, were busily employed in seizing upon and plundering his equipages and baggage. Notwithstanding the darkness of the night, he was perceived and recognized in many places, where his presence was noted by the soldiers, who called to one another, in a low voice, ‘The Emperor! The Emperor!’ – These words appeared an alarming cry to him, and he immediately took himself off as quick as the confusion of the multitude, in the midst of which he was entangled, would permit. What were become of those obstreperous acclamations which used to accompany him in the midst of his army, as soon as he appeared?

The French army continued their disastrous march during the entire night, covering their route with the wrecks of their misfortune, and assailed every moment by fresh charges of the enemy, which completed their disorder. The degree of terror which prevailed at this discomfiture was such that numerous groups of cavalry and of infantry, well armed, suffered themselves to be attacked without attempting to defend themselves against some wretched lancers, whom it would have been quite sufficient to have turned round upon, in order to put them to flight.

At day break, the wretched remains of our army arrived, partly at Charleroi, partly at Marchienne, when they made haste to cross the Sambre. That unfortunate army, lately so brilliant, now in the most ruined condition, and harassed with fatigue, presented an aspect so much the more hideous, as it was followed by a great number of wounded, some on foot, others mounted on train horses, and who, pale, exhausted, and with their wounds wrapped up with rags covered with blood, and promiscuously marching in the midst of a confused column, which filled the entire breadth of the road, recalled to memory, in the most affecting manner, the scenes of carnage which had taken place.

The carriages of various kinds, which, in proportion as they approached the Sambre, found themselves retarded in their march by the passing of those which happened to be foremost, were crowded on each other on the roads which lead to the bridges of Charleroi and of Marchienne. The enemies’ cavalry did not fail to make their appearance, and surprised them in the midst of this confusion; no man then thought of any thing but of making his escape; the drivers, in their flight, cut the harness of their horses, and followed by all that were about them, run in disorder towards the bridges, or along the banks of the river, endeavouring to find a passage. Thus all the remaining artillery and materiel of every kind, fell into the hands of the enemy, who also, on that occasion made a great number of prisoners.

That portion of the army which, after having placed the Sambre between them and the Prussians, thought they could stop there, and who had established bivouacs in the orchards and the meadows, which lie on the right bank of that river broke up in all haste when informed of the approach of the enemy, by the extreme confusion which his appearance had excited. Without waiting for orders – without making any attempt to cut down the bridge, and without time to recover themselves, a disorderly flight is again renewed; every man sets off at the same time, and each takes his own measures without knowing what was to happen.

At a little distance from Charleroi, two different routes present themselves, one leads to Avesnes, and the other to Philipeville. Having had no instructions as to the route which they should take, and not seeing any of their chiefs, the army divides into two divisions; the most numerous body follows the route which they had taken in advancing, and direct marches towards Avesnes; the other keeps to the left and marches upon Philipeville. A great number of individuals detached themselves from the rest, without any other object than to avoid the pursuit of the cavalry, throwing themselves into the great surrounding woods; thus the army dispersed themselves more and more every step, and almost totally disappeared.

It was by this last mentioned route that Buonaparte had chosen to make his retreat. Deserting from his army once more, he abandoned it without making any effort to rally it, in the midst of dangers, which it seemed to please him to aggravate still more, by giving it up to anarchy and total dissolution. Thousands of soldiers, in scattered parties, wandering as chance might direct, and issuing from the woods, spread themselves over the country, carrying alarm wherever they go. The wretched inhabitants are struck with astonishment at hearing, almost at the same moment of the success, the irreparable defeat of the French army, and at finding themselves a prey to an enemy, whom a victory, purchased with their blood, must have rendered more cruel, at the very moment when they were rejoicing at finding the theatre of war removed at a distance from them. All the strong places immediately shut their gates; and repel by force the fugitives that endeavoured to enter, oblige them to fall back upon the adjoining communes, where they practised all kinds of excesses.

It was under this description of a fugitive, and in the midst of a terror-struck multitude of them, that Buonaparte, confounded with dismay, and less assured than any of those who accompanied him, came to demand, in a suppliant manner, an entrance into Philipeville: he stood in need of the protection of the ramparts of that town to conceal him from the active pursuit of the Prussians, who were following close upon his heels, with the utmost vigilance, and who had already sent off, in that direction, numerous parties, into which he was apprehensive of falling. When arrived at the city gates, he had to bear the humiliation of seeing himself interrogated by a guard, before whom he declared his Imperial dignity, and who did not suffer him to pass till that was recognised by the Governor, who was called upon to ascertain his identity. He himself then entered, with some persons constituting a more humble suite, and the barriers were forthwith closed.

A short time after an order was given to disperse the crowds of soldiers which every moment were increasing about and before the entrances to the town. The report having spread among them that their illustrious Emperor was at length found, and that he was in that place, they esteemed it their duty to establish their camp about his person, and besides, reckoned it as certain, for the means of protecting him, that the fortress would be at length opened for them. But the prudence of Buonaparte was here discernible. He judged that such a collection of soldiers might attract the enemy to that point, and cause his place of refuge to be discovered, consequently he sent them an order to continue their route; but as he had, like a General, profoundly analyzed the means of acting upon the moral of his troops after a defeat, in order to insure the full and prompt execution of his orders, he made use of a little stratagem, the success of which was infallible. Some emissaries proceeding from the town ran towards the camp in a great fright, crying: – ‘Ho! Save your lives, here are the Cossacks! Quick, quick! The Cossacks! The Cossacks!’ We may readily imagine that nothing more was necessary, and that everything disappeared in an instant.

Wellington’s despatches during the pursuit were quoted in whole or in part in most of the British provincial newspapers such as in the Cambridge Chronicle and Journal of Friday, 7 July 1815. This account appeared under the announcement, ‘Dispatches, of which the following are extracts, have been this day [29 June 1815, Downing Street] received by Earl Bathurst, from Field Marshal his Grace the Duke of Wellington’:

We have continued in march on the left of the Sambre since I wrote to you. Marshal Blucher crossed that river on the 19th, in pursuit of the enemy, and both armies entered the French territories yesterday; the Prussians by Beaumont, and the Allied Army under my command, by Bavay. – The remains of the French army have retired upon Laon. All accounts agree in stating, that it is in a very wretched state, and that, in addition to its losses in battle and in prisoners, it is losing vast numbers of men by desertion.

The soldiers quit their regiments in parties, and return to their homes; those of the cavalry and artillery selling their horses to the people of the country. The 3d corps, which in my dispatch of the 19th I informed your Lordship had been detached to observe the Prussian army, remained in the neighbourhood of Wavre, till the 20th – it then made good its retreat by Namur and Dinant. This corps is the only one remaining entire. – I am not yet able to transmit your Lordship returns of the killed and wounded in the army in the late actions. It gives me the greatest satisfaction to inform you, that Colonel Delancey is not dead; he is badly wounded, but his recovery is not doubted, and I hope will be early.

Colonel De Lancey did not in fact recover. For his part, Ensign Wheatley, who had been captured at La Haye Sainte, was forced to march with the retreating French army:

The roads and ditches were crammed with groaning wounded, and really I felt for them as if they were English for military hatred is never felt for the helpless but against the daring and the Capable … we entered Genappe where the day before I was free as air, carrying terror and dismay among beef carts and biscuit wagons [but now] a poor, cast down captive, exposed to the insults and bravado of thousands of intoxicated, insolent enemies.

I entered the town alongside a foot soldier on horseback, his right leg [so] shattered at the knee that his leg hung down by one single piece of sinew, and my stomach sickened as it dangled backwards and forwards splashing his horse with gore and marrow. The fellow pale and aghast, chewing dry biscuit to allay his scorching thirst. ‘Voila, un français!’ said an officer to me, pointing at him as I passed, proud of the fellow’s fortitude, not envious of his situation.⁴

A Prussian officer called Julius was also a prisoner of the French. He described the state of the French troops on 19 June:

The things I witnessed exceeded anything I had expected, and were beyond belief. Had I not actually seen it all, I should have considered it impossible for a disciplined army – an army such as the French was – to melt away to such an extent. Not only the main road [from Beaumont] as far as one could see in either direction, but also every side road and footpath was covered with soldiers of every rank, of every arm of the service, in the most complete and utter confusion. Generals, officers, wounded men – and these included some who had just had limbs amputated: everybody walked or rode in disorder. The entire army had disintegrated.

There was no longer anyone to give orders, or anyone to obey. Each man appeared bent on nothing but saving his own skin. Like a turbulent forest stream this chaotic mass surged around the waggon in which I was sitting with several companions in misfortune. Jostled by the crowd, hampered by the bottomless lane, this waggon could hardly be dragged forward …

Very occasionally someone would shout to us: ‘Sauvez-vous! We are lost! Thank God we shall have peace at long last! We shall be going home!’ Several times the cry came up from the rear: ‘He’s coming! The enemy’s coming! Sauve qui peut!’ and then everyone ran in desperate haste. Some threw down their weapons, others their knapsacks, and they took refuge in the corn or behind hedges until the reassuring shout of ‘No, no, it’s all right! They’re our own men!’ calmed down the panic.

A single cavalry regiment could have taken many thousands of prisoners here, because there was no question of offering resistance or of sticking together.⁵

Another involved in the retreat was Captain Coignet who was baggage- master-general at Napoleon’s headquarters:

We had the greatest difficulty in getting away. We could not make way through the panic-stricken multitude, and it was still worse when we arrived at Jemmapes. The Emperor tried to re-establish some kind of order among the retreating troops, but his efforts were in vain. Men of all units from every corps struggled and fought their way along the streets of the little town, with no-one in command of them, panic-stricken, flying before the Prussian cavalry, which hurrah’d continually in rear of them. The one thought uppermost in the minds of all was to get across the little bridge which had been thrown over the Dyle. Nothing could stand in the way of them.⁶

Even though the French had been defeated at Waterloo, the result of the campaign against Napoleon remained uncertain for many days and any snippet of information found its way into the newspapers, such as this brief note which was published in the Chester Chronicle on Friday, 7 July:

A letter from an Officer of the Guards, in the advanced division, dated the 20th, states, that on the 19th, while in progress of following up the victory of the 18th, they were attacked by a party of the French, issuing from a wood, with great fury, and that the assailants were received with great firmness and repulsed with considerable loss.

The chief loss of our cavalry arose from the different mode of arming them from the enemy. The cuirassiers, whose bodies are protected by armour, and the lancers, whose arms are much more powerful than the sabre, possessed from these circumstances great advantage.

Before the Allies could advance into France and complete their victory, they had to contend with the triple chain of border fortresses. The ones blocking Wellington’s line of advance were at Valenciennes, Cambrai and Peronne.

Sir Charles Colville, with the 4th Division, was given the task of dealing with Cambrai. The place was summoned to surrender but this was rejected. Colville responded by bombarding the fortress but as he possessed only field artillery, this had little effect. Colville, therefore, decided to assault the place on the night of 24 June. William Wheeler of the 51st later recalled the attack:

We had collected what ladders and ropes we could find in the farm houses, then we began splicing to enable us to scale the walls if necessary. A flag of truce was sent to the Town but they were fired at, which caused them to return, and a ball had passed through the trumpeter’s cap. We were now ready for storming and were only waiting the order to advance. In a short time our field pieces opened when a shell. I believe the first thrown from the howitzer, set a large building on fire. We now pushed on to the works near the gate, got into the trenches, fixed our ladders and were soon in possession of the top of the wall. The opposition was trifling, the regular soldiers fled to the citadel, and the shop-keepers to their shops.⁷

Wellington sent the following despatch from Joncourt the day after the assault:

FINDING that the garrison of Cambray was not very strong, and that the place was not very well supplied with what was wanting for its defence, I sent Lieutenant-General Sir Charles Colville there, on the day before yesterday, with one brigade of the 4th division, and Sir C. Grant’s brigade of cavalry; and upon his report of the strength of the place, I sent the whole division yesterday morning.

I have now the satisfaction of reporting that Sir Charles Colville took the town by Escalade yesterday evening, with trifling loss, and from the communications which he has since had with the Governor of the citadel, I have every reason to hope that that post will have been surrendered to a Governor sent there by the King of France, to take possession of it, in the course of this day.

St Quentin has been abandoned by the enemy, and is in possession of Marshal Prince Blucher, and the castle of Guise surrendered last night.

All accounts concur in stating, that it is impossible for the enemy to collect an army to make head against us.

It appears that the French corps which was opposed to the Prussians on the 18th instant, and had been at Wavre, suffered considerably in its retreat, and lost some of its cannon.⁸

The Prussians had a far more difficult task ahead, with the fortresses of Maubeuge, Landrecies, Mariembourg, Philippeville, Rocroi, Givet and Mézières all to be tackled. For the siege of Maubeuge, the most formidable of these fortresses, the British siege train, of thirty-eight heavy guns was brought up from Mons and a regular siege was undertaken. After a punishing bombardment, the place surrendered on the evening of 11 July.⁹

The following two vignettes relating to Waterloo were subsequently published in the Chester Chronicle of Friday, 7 July 1815:

After the battle of the 16th, the French, with their usual insolence and barbarity, cut off the ears of a number of Prussian soldiers, and sent them in this mutilated state to Prince Blucher’s head-quarters. It is to be hoped that the pursuing Prussian army will take most ample vengeance on those inhuman scoundrels.

Evidently the Prussians did take their revenge:

The war, it is mentioned, had taken a most savage character between the French and Prussians from the very beginning. Before the opening of the campaign, the 1st and 2d corps of the rebels had confederated and hoisted the black flag. They openly avowed, that they would give no quarter to the Prussians, and in general they kept their word. The Prussian loss, in all the affairs together, is calculated at near 20,000 men. The Prussians, however, most amply revenged themselves on the flying French, whom they butchered without mercy; and as the cavalry of Bulow’s corps were numerous, fresh, and unbroken, they did incredible execution.

Such reprisals by the Prussians were also witnessed by James Gibney of the 15th Hussars:

These gentlemen literally ransacked many houses, and we coming after them as we did, were uncommonly bad off. They were like a swarm of locusts, making all barren around them. Indeed, for miles around they seem to have wantonly destroyed all they could lay their hands on. If revenge for the French occupation of Berlin a short time previously was their object, they certainly obtained it.¹⁰

Revenge was certainly a factor in the way the Prussians treated the French, as was explained to Sergeant Wheeler:

You English know nothing of the sufferings of war as we do. England has never been overrun by French Armies as our country has, or you would act as we do. The French acted a cruel part in Prussia, destroyed our houses violated our Mothers, our wives, our daughters, and sisters, and murdered them afterwards, they taught us a lesson we are now come to France to put into practice.¹¹

Such sights may have shocked the British troops, but they themselves were not blameless and took advantage of the situation that presented itself. Private Farmer of the 11th Light Dragoons wrote:

As the foolish people had left all their effects behind them, we saw no reason why we should not … appropriate them to our own use. The consequence was that our meals were not only abundant but sumptuous: – fowls, geese, turkeys, ducks, pigs, rabbits, and flour and garden-stuff in abundance, furnished forth, with wine and beer, our daily tables.¹²

Napoleon, meanwhile, had seen that there was little he could accomplish by remaining with his disorganised army and, leaving Soult to try and re-establish some kind of control, the Emperor rushed on to Paris, appreciating that his presence there was necessary to maintain public order. He reached the capital on 21 June. ‘All is not lost,’ he wrote to his brother Joseph. ‘There is still time to retrieve the situation.’¹³ That remained to be seen.