produce a grand slam of mistakes. It is surprising that his great name as a
captain has survived the lengthy checklist of errors he committed that
day, or that Wellington should have gained such a great reputation for
taking advantage of opportunities that were virtually handed him on a
plate. The Emperor seemed pleased that Wellington had the forest of
Soignes at his back, making retreat impossible, but he showed
consummate folly in allowing the Duke to fight on ground of }lis own
choosing. It almost passes belief that Wellington was yet again allowed to
implement his favourite ploy of sheltering troops on reverse slopes.
Surely after the Peninsular War the French were alive to this tired old
dodge? Even Soult was worried about the concentrated firepower of the
British squares but Napoleon reacted to his chief of staff's warnings with
arrogance and contempt: 'Just because you have been beaten by
Wellington, you think he's a good general. I tell you, Wellington is a bad
general, the English are bad troops and this affair is nothing more than
eating breakfast.'
In his tactics for the day's battle, Napoleon could think of nothing
more original than an unimaginative frontal assault. His idea was to turn
Wellington's left rather than his right, both because it was weaker and to
cut the Duke off fr om any hope of aid from the Prussians at Wavre.
Moreover, if he attacked Wellington's right, there was a danger that he
might lose touch with Grouchy's detachment. But - to anticipate a
question the Emperor was to ask himself repeatedly on this Sunday 18
June - where was Grouchy and what were his intentions? Had he
received the Emperor's latest orders and was he even now, as Napoleon
hoped, doubling back to take part in the battle?
Grouchy was to be the greatest single failure in the Battle of Waterloo,
so it is not surprising that the issue of his culpability has exercised
military historians ever since. His defenders point to the impenetrability
- gibberish would be a better word - of the orders received from Soult,
which were worded as follows: 'His Majesty desires that you will head for
Wavre in order to draw near to us, and to place yourself in touch with our
operations, and to keep up your communications with us, pushing before
you those positions of the Prussian army which have taken this direction
and which have halted at Wavre; this place you ought to reach as soon as
possible.' Since Wavre lay to the north of Grouchy and the Emperor to
the west, the orders were nonsensical; moreover 'pushing' the Prussians
before him, in the context of 'drawing near' could mean only driving
Blucher to the field of Waterloo - the exact opposite of Napoleon's
intentions. Grouchy solved the conundrum by fastening on the three
words 'head for Wavre' and ignoring everything else.