The first six corps were all substantial forces commanded by experienced and talented marshals of France, and were all stationed in north-eastern France. The I Corps, under d’Erlon, was at Lille. The II Corps, commanded by Reille, was at Valenciennes. Vandamme was with the III Corps at Rocroi. The IV Corps under Gérard was at Metz. The V Corps, commanded by Rapp, was at Strasbourg. The VI Corps, under Lobau, was near Laon. The cavalry reserve was likewise in north-eastern France, at Guise, while the Imperial Guard was in Paris under Napoleon’s personal command.
The other bodies of the French army being assembled by Davout were all considerably smaller. The VII Corps, also known as the Army of the Alps, was commanded by Marshal Louis-Gabriel Suchet. It was made up of about 15,000 men, about half of whom were drawn from the National Guard, not the regular army. It was based at Lyons and had the task of watching the passes over the Alps from Switzerland and Italy.
The Army of the Jura was commanded by General Claude Lecourbe and composed of only about 6,000 men, again half of whom were from the National Guard. Lecourbe was to watch the Swiss, but to take no offensive action.
Another 5,000 men made up the Army of the Var, based at Toulon and commanded by Marshal Guillaume Brune. His task was to stop any further uprisings by the royalists of the Provence region.
Some 3,000 men made up the Army of the Eastern Pyrenees at Toulouse, while a similar sized Army of the Western Pyrenees was at Bordeaux. Both forces had the task of watching the Spanish border to stop any incursions from that direction.
Finally, the Army of the West was made up of 10,000 men under General Jean Lamarque. Their task was to put down a royalist rising in the lower Loire valley that was proving to be rather troublesome.
Davout was also supervising the mustering and equipping of more troops, drawing on both the returning prisoners of war and on new recruits. These men were being drawn from all corners of France, but were being moved towards Paris where they could act as a central reserve. The numbers were growing steadily so that by the first week of June Davout had 20,000 men with more arriving daily.
Having decided to launch a swift offensive into the Netherlands, Napoleon had Davout form a new Army of the North. This army was to be made up of I Corps, II Corps, III Corps, IV Corps, VI Corps, the cavalry reserve and the Imperial Guard. This gave him a total force of 130,000 men, the vast majority of them veterans and all of them fully equipped and well supplied. Napoleon deliberately kept these corps dispersed at the main bases until the last possible moment. He guessed that the allies had spies in France and wanted to give them as little advance warning of his intention to attack as possible. It was not until 6 June that the first units began to march for the rendezvous at Avesnes. Napoleon himself stayed in Paris, ostentatiously attending social and routine government meetings, until 3 am on 12 June. The concentration of the Army of the North took place at Avesnes on the afternoon of 13 June. After 24 hours’ rest, the army marched.
Missing from the French deployment
There were, however, three key men not present with Napoleon as the army headed north to face battle.
The first was Joachim Murat, recently ousted as king of Naples. A couple of weeks after vanishing from Naples he had arrived in Marseilles, having eluded the British naval blockade by disguising himself as a Sardinian fisherman. On arrival, he sent a message to Napoleon asking how he could be of service. Napoleon sent back a message welcoming Murat to France, but giving him no work to do. This was odd. Murat was the finest cavalry commander not just of his generation but of the entire 19th century. He had proved his loyalty, courage and skill in battle after battle the length and breadth of Europe. Yet Napoleon left him kicking his heels while less talented men commanded corps and armies.
Also missing was Marshal Ney. Like Murat, Ney was a talented commander who was enormously popular with the rank and file of the French army. Ney was skilled at co-ordinating cavalry, infantry and artillery and was a dogged and tenacious commander who had kept Napoleon’s rearguard together during the horrific retreat from Moscow in 1812. In 1814 it had been Ney who had been instrumental in persuading Napoleon to abdicate as emperor and, although Ney had been among the first to join Napoleon in 1815, he had not been properly forgiven. Like Murat he was treated well, but given no work to do.
The third missing figure was, arguably, the most important: Marshal Louis-Alexandre Berthier. From 1795 to 1814 Berthier had been continuously at Napoleon’s side. He was the imperial chief of staff, the man responsible for the crucial staff work that converted Napoleon’s intentions into battlefield reality. Berthier’s tasks involved keeping maps showing which bridges could support artillery and supply wagons, and which could cope with only infantry. He knew how many wagons were needed to keep an infantry division supplied, and how many were needed for a cavalry corps. Most important, he knew how to convert Napoleon’s often brusque and generalized verbal orders into polite and precise written orders for the generals to follow.
Unlike Murat and Ney, Berthier was sent for by Napoleon. Unfortunately the Emperor’s return to France caught Berthier on a visit to Bamberg in Bavaria. The Bavarians put him under house arrest. A few weeks later a column of Prussian troops marched through Bamberg and that very same day Berthier died when he fell out of the attic window of the house where he was staying. The Prussian general announced that Berthier had been so upset by the sight of Prussians marching to invade France that he committed suicide. Very few people believed the story and it is widely believed that the Prussians murdered him.
Movements before battle
That night the French army camped close to the Netherlands border, all units carefully positioned to the south of woods or hills so that their campfires would not be seen by the Allied cavalry scouts to the north. The ruse worked in part, but Prussian piquets saw the glow of the fires near Beaumont. Prussian scouts on their left flank noticed that the French outposts that had been visible for the past two weeks were gone. Pushing cautiously forward for more than 3 km they found only abandoned French camps. The French troops had moved somewhere else.
Another item of news that reached the Prussian outposts that night came from a Dutch farmer who was hurrying home to get away from the large French army. He could not give a reliable estimate of numbers, but he did pass on the news that Napoleon was there in person.
The Army of the North was divided into three for the march north to ease congestion on the roads – particularly for the artillery. On the left flank, marching by way of Solre-sur-Sambre, were I and II Corps – about 44,000 men. In the centre, going through Beaumont, were the 60,000 men of III and VI Corps, the Imperial Guard and the Cavalry Reserve. On the right was IV Corps – 16,000 men.
Dawn the next day came clear and bright, promising good campaigning weather. The officers of every unit had been issued overnight with a proclamation from Napoleon that they were to read out to their troops as the units paraded before marching off. It read as follows:
‘Soldiers: This day is the anniversary of Marengo and Friedland, which twice decided the destiny of Europe. Then, as after the battles of Austerlitz and Wagram, we were too generous. We believed in the protestations and oaths of princes to whom we left their thrones. Now, however, leagued together, they strike at the independence and sacred rights of France. They have committed unjust aggressions. Let us march forward and meet them; are we not still the same men? Soldiers: At Jena, these Prussians, now so arrogant, were three to one; at Montmirail six to one. Let those who have been captive to the English describe the nature of their prison ships, and the sufferings they endured. The Saxons, the Belgians, the Hanoverians, the soldiers of the Confederation of the Rhine, lament that they are obliged to use their arms in the cause of princes who are the enemies of justice, and the destroyers of the rights of nations. They well know the coalition to be insatiable. After having swallowed up twelve millions of Poles, twelve millions of Italians, one million of Saxons, and six milli
ons of Belgians, they now wish to devour the States of the second order among the Germans. Madmen! One moment of prosperity has bewildered them. To oppress and humble the people of France is out of their power; once entering our territory, there they will find their doom. Soldiers: We have forced marches before us, battles to fight and dangers to encounter; but firm in resolution, victory must be ours. The honor and happiness of our country are at stake! And, in short, Frenchmen, the moment is arrived when we must conquer or die!’
The man responsible for guarding the frontier at the spot where Napoleon was about to cross into the Netherlands was Hans von Zieten, who commanded the Prussian I Corps. Throughout the daylight hours of 14 June Zieten received a series of rather vague reports. None of these in themselves was conclusive, but taken together they indicated very strongly that the main French army was to his south and was about to advance.
Several local farming families arrived on carts, seeking safety from what they said was a vast French army. Men came driving sheep, cattle and horses that they were likewise taking to safety. A couple of deserters from the French army came over the border, claiming to be ardent royalists who had been conscripted by force. They said that Napoleon was leading an army of 150,000 men and intended to capture Brussels.
In the mid afternoon, Zieten passed on the reports to both Blücher and Wellington. However, he emphasized that all these reports came from unreliable sources, that his own scouts had seen nothing unusual and that he could not be sure either where Napoleon was concentrating his army or where he was going to lead it. A French offensive into the Netherlands within the next few days did, however, seem to be highly likely.
At about 7 pm several of Zieten’s forward cavalry scouts reported that they had seen columns of men, artillery and wagons heading north along roads near Beaumont and Philippeville. The estimates of the numbers of men involved varied, but all scouts put the numbers in the tens of thousands.
At this date the estimation of troop types and numbers by scouts was of crucial importance. Light cavalrymen underwent lengthy training programmes to enable them to make good estimations. They were expected to be able to tell the difference between dust clouds kicked up by infantry, cavalry and carts at distances of up to 25 km in clear conditions. On sunny days the amount of sunlight sparkling on weapons, belt buckles and horse harnesses would give an indication of the numbers of men on the move. On overcast nights the light reflected from clouds would indicate the number of campfires alight. Estimates of troop types and movement given by light cavalrymen were usually reliable.
By dusk on 14 June Zieten had a good idea of how many Frenchmen were on the march and where they were going. He sent gallopers off to both Blücher and Wellington announcing the news.
Blücher had the news by 10 pm and at 11 pm a string of gallopers went out carrying his orders to the commanders of the Prussian Corps. They were to gather at Sombreffe, a village on the main road from Namur to Nivelles where there was a junction, with a side road going to Charleroi. Zieten, however, was to stay where he was and keep an eye on the French moving to his front.
Trying to out-think Napoleon
Blücher had faced Napoleon before and knew him to be a master of manoeuvre. One of Napoleon’s greatest victories had been won almost without firing a shot. In October 1805 Napoleon was facing the Austrian commander Mack von Leibereich on the Danube near Ulm in Bavaria. Napoleon marched around 80,000 men into view of the Austrian scouts, but kept some 40,000 men out of sight. Studying Napoleon’s movements, Mack concluded that the French were going to try to work around the right flank of his army of 60,000 men to cut him off from Vienna. Mack therefore spent the next two days watching Napoleon’s slow advance while preparing elaborate defences on the right to stop the French.
Napoleon, however, had meanwhile sent most of his army in the opposite direction and by a series of rapid, lengthy marches managed to get behind Mack’s defences before the Austrians realized that Napoleon was not where they thought he was. Over the next five days, Napoleon hustled Mack from one untenable position to another until he was trapped with his back to the Danube without food, ammunition or hope of relief. Mack surrendered his entire army. Napoleon lost only 500 men.
At Austerlitz Napoleon with 67,000 men had faced a joint Austro-Russian army of 86,000. Napoleon spent most of 1 December 1805 manoeuvring his army in full view of the enemy, apparently intending to attack the next morning on the right flank of the Austro-Russians where the land was open and suitable for cavalry charges. That night, under cover of darkness, the Russians secretly moved their main force from the hills in their centre to their right to meet Napoleon’s attack.
This was, in fact, exactly what Napoleon had wanted. During the night he had moved his main force to the centre. At dawn he launched a massive assault up the hills, smashed the Russian centre then wheeled to take their right wing in the rear. Taken by surprise in flank and rear the Austro-Russians fled. Few managed to get far, for Napoleon’s cavalry swooped on them. Napoleon lost 1,305 men dead. The Austro-Russians lost 16,000 dead and 22,000 taken prisoner.
These sorts of cunningly concealed manoeuvres were typical of Napoleon. It was almost axiomatic that what he seemed to intend to do was not what he would actually do. One commentator compared the connection between Napoleon’s intentions and his actions as ‘white knight to black bishop’. By concentrating his forces at Sombreffe, Blücher was hoping to keep his options open. The roads would allow him to move east, west or north depending on what Napoleon was doing.
Wellington was equally wary of committing his troops until he knew what Napoleon was actually up to. He remained concerned that Napoleon would seek to work around his right flank to cut the British off from the English Channel. Wellington sent out orders that all units should be ready to march at short notice with full equipment, but he did not move any unit.
Louis-Nicolas Davout
Davout was born into a family of the lower nobility and joined the Royal French army just before the Revolution as a cavalry lieutenant. His noble birth got him into some minor trouble, but his skills saw him through and by 1792 he was a brigadier general. Davout’s marriage to a pretty girl named Aimée Leclerc turned out to be highly advantageous as her brother was married to the sister of another young general – Napoleon Bonaparte. As Napoleon rose, so did Davout. His organizational skills were matched by his tactical ability: at Auerstädt in October 1806, for instance, he defeated a Prussian army of 63,000 with only 28,000 men. When Napoleon fell from power, Davout was defending the fortified city of Hamburg against overwhelming odds and surrendered only when he learned Napoleon had abdicated. When Napoleon returned to power Davout was summoned to become minister of war, though many felt that he should have gone on campaign where his skills would have been of more direct use. After Waterloo, Louis XVIII sacked Davout and stripped him of all his titles and privileges. By 1819 he was back in favour. He died in 1823, leaving his titles and estates to the appropriately named Napoleon Davout.
Louis-Nicolas Davout, 1770 - 1823
Chapter 3
‘Humbugged me, by God’
Wellington to the earl of Malmesbury, 15 June 1815[6]
As dusk fell on 14 June the Prussian commander of I Corp, Zieten, ordered his men to sleep in their uniforms and with their weapons within reach. Additional outposts were pushed forward and officers told to rouse their men an hour before dawn. He was expecting to be attacked and was determined not to be taken by surprise.
Wellington went to sleep in a calmer state of mind. Unknown to his allies, or indeed nearly all his own commanders, Wellington had sent his top spy south of the French border. Colonel Grant was riding in uniform – so that he would not be shot if captured – but he was co-ordinating a mass of royalist sympathisers who could move freely about northern France. Wellington had relied upon Grant during the Peninsular War, and he was depending on him again now. Wellington had learned to trust no intelligence, no
matter how outwardly impressive, unless Grant had approved it. Now Wellington would not move until he had word from Grant.
On the evening of 14 June the long-awaited message from Grant arrived. It was accurate in every detail, giving Napoleon’s strength and the road he was taking towards Brussels. The message arrived at the Hanoverian cavalry outposts of General von Dornberg’s division on Wellington’s far right flank. Dornberg passed the message on promptly but, not realizing the significance, omitted to state that the message had come from somebody called Grant. When the message arrived at Wellington’s headquarters it was added to the pile of incoming reports from scouts. In all likelihood, Wellington never even saw it.
Wellington and Blücher met to discuss the latest intelligence and scouting reports.
Only a few days before, Wellington and Blücher had met and discussed despatches from their superior, Schwarzenberg. These had reviewed the latest intelligence and scouting reports. It was generally agreed that Napoleon would behave as he had done in 1814 when defending France and launch a pre-emptive strike across the upper Rhine. Militarily it was the sensible thing to do. Blücher and Wellington had separated agreeing that they would invade France together once Napoleon had attacked on the Rhine. By the evening of 14 June nothing had happened to change their minds.
Around 3 am soldiers in a Prussian outpost were surprised to find themselves approached by three French officers. The surprise grew greater when the officers turned out to be General Louis de Bourmont and two colonels. Bourmont brought with him a copy of Napoleon’s orders to his army for the next few days. He was taken to see Blücher, who instead of welcoming Bourmont called him a traitor to his face. Blücher’s chief of staff, August von Gneisenau, stepped in to remind Blücher that Bourmont now wore the royalist white cockade in his hat and was therefore an ally.
The Battle of Waterloo: Europe in the Balance Page 4
