WATERLOO and GETTYSBURG

By Thomas D. MORGAN, LTC (Ret)

The battles of Waterloo and Gettysburg, although separated by almost 50 years and on different continents, have much in common. Both were last-ditch attempts by charismatic commanders to revive “Lost Causes” and regain former glories. They were both a “damned near run thing” as Wellington remarked after Waterloo.

The 50 years between the end of the Napoleonic Wars and the American Civil War saw many changes in the instruments of war. Rifled guns made them more accurate and deadly against the massed formations that Civil War generals favored, a holdover from the U.S. Army’s study of Napoleonic tactics and doctrine. Transportation, logistics, and communications had improved so that lethal battles could be sustained for longer periods of time. Railroads and organized supply convoys now sustained armies on the march. The telegraph and improved visual communications systems enabled commanders to control larger armies and thus mass more soldiers for battles using modern, lethal weapons.

The tactics of warfare had not changed much in the 50 years since Waterloo in 1815. What had changed, and battlefield commanders were slow to realize it, was that soldiers could now kill each other in greater numbers. At Waterloo, it was estimated that 47,000 men were left dead and wounded on a battlefield measuring about three square miles. At Gettysburg, that number had risen to over 50,000 on a similarly compact battlefield. This slaughter of massed formations would not start to reverse itself until another 50 years had passed when the horrible slaughter of World War I had finally been realized.

For Emperor Napoleon, Waterloo was the high-water mark of his remarkable 100-Day restoration of First Empire power that had made the ruling houses of continental Europe and Great Britain tremble with fear. For General Robert E. Lee, Gettysburg marked the high tide of the Confederacy. Swept on a tidal wave of victory, the seemingly unbeatable Confederate Army, the Gray Tide, had invaded the North and gave decisive battle at a little town in Pennsylvania. The ghost of Napoleon stalked Robert E. Lee at Gettysburg and rode behind him just as surely as he had ridden the battlefield of Waterloo. Much was a stake for the South. A big win for Lee might force the North into an armistice that would recognize the Confederate States of America. Foreign aid, especially from Great Britain and France, was sure to follow. Legitimacy for the Southern Rebellion could be won by force of arms.

For Napoleon, all hinged on this last throw of the dice at Waterloo. Always a gambler since he had taken over the French Revolution a generation before, many Frenchmen had known nothing but war during their adult lives. Napoleon’s continued leadership position in France hinged on a decisive battle on the slopes of Mont St-Jean, a small hamlet near Waterloo that is now a suburb of Brussels.

Napoleon had mortgaged the natural resources of France to re-arm the Grande Armee after its loss to the Allied Coalition in 1814. He based his hopes for the continuation of his French Empire on defeating the British and Prussians in Belgium. This would give him the edge over the other members of the Seventh Coalition, mainly Russia and Austria, whose armies were marching against him. Napoleon could either turn and fight them after a victory at Waterloo or bring them to the negotiating table where his considerable political skills could be used.

Both campaigns resulted in three days of fighting. Lee had fought two hard days’ worth of battles around Gettysburg before the final, climactic battle of 3 July 1863. Lee had achieved strategic success in crossing the Potomac River undetected and drawing the Union Army into Pennsylvania away from Richmond and the Shenandoah Valley. Lee could menace the Union Capital of Washington and show Northerners that the Lincoln Administration could not protect them.

Napoleon had also achieved success in bringing his Grande Armee from north of Paris into Belgium, crossing the Sambre River at Charleroi, and getting between the British-led, Anglo-Dutch Army and the Prussian Army. Napoleon had defeated the Prussians at Ligny and the Anglo-Dutch at Quatre Bras on 16 June in separate battles, and he had pushed them back on their lines of communications. Now, on 18 June 1815, he was ready to administer the coup de grace against Wellington and his hastily assembled Anglo-Dutch force.

Lee enjoyed the benefit of a cohesive, patriotic army and he was universally respected, and even adored by his men who affectionately called him “Marse Robert.” Even the Union soldiers respected him and could do worse than call him “Bobby Lee.” It was no shame to be beaten by him on the field of battle. Napoleon on the other hand, was not so universally well liked. Respected by his old veterans as Le Petite Caporal (the Little Corporal), many of his new conscripts and some of his commanders had only just recently worn the Bourbon white following Napoleon’s 1814 abdication and Louis XVIII’s restoration. Those who changed sides at the last minute were opportunists who could change again depending on the winds of war.

What both Napoleon and Lee had in common was poor health, brought on by hard campaigning and nervous exhaustion. Napoleon at 46 was overweight and suffering from chronic stomach problems, probably inherited from his father who had died of stomach cancer at an early age. Napoleon suffered from constipation, piles, and a venereal disease contracted during his exile in Elba. He was prone to bursts of extreme energy followed by periods of listlessness. He could not stay in the saddle all day for several days at a time. By the third and final day at Waterloo, he was mentally and physically exhausted. (Napoleon would die only six years later during his final exile on St. Helena.) Napoleon took his station at the rear of his battle line in a static position as opposed to his adversary Wellington who was still active in the front lines. Wellington, also 46 but in superb physical condition, was like a coach on the sidelines riding constantly back and forth into the battle where it was the thickest.

Lee was 56, but old for his years. He too was suffering from a disease that would eventually kill him in 1870. In Lee’s case, it was heart disease and he probably had a mild heart attack just before or during the Gettysburg campaign. Lee was active during the campaign, but probably not as sharp and aggressive as usual.

Lee had lost his most capable subordinate and “good right arm,” Stonewall Jackson, at Chancellorsville just a few weeks before Gettysburg. Lee had adopted a style of command with Jackson that was not easily transferred to the subordinates he had left. They required detailed instructions while Jackson understood Lee and could operate effectively with only suggestions and recommendations from his commander. So it was with Napoleon and Marshal Berthier. Berthier translated Napoleon’s desires into actions. Berthier had also died and Napoleon was without his vital services at Waterloo.

The two great battles are marked by “what ifs.” What if Marshal Grouchy had been able to come to Napoleon’s aide at Waterloo? Grouchy’s relatively fresh 33,000 troops might have turned the tables on Wellington. What if at Gettysburg, General J.E.B. Stuart had been present at the beginning of the three-day battle and had correctly located the Union units and positions with his four cavalry brigades, the “eyes and ears” of Lee’s army? What if during the battle, Stuart had been able to re inforce the main attack made by Longstreet? Or, what if Stuart had harassed the Union flank and rear instead of fighting a separate cavalry battle against Union Generals Gregg and Custer several miles from the main action?

Napoleon had lost many of his best subordinates during the seemingly endless wars that marked his reign over France. Marshals Lannes and Berthier were gone. Several marshals sat out the 100-Days because they were tired fighting and wanted to enjoy the money and titles that Napoleon had given them. Others were erratic. Marshal Ney, one of his best remaining field generals, may have been scarred psychologically from the Russian Campaign in 1812 and not fully up to the mark anymore. Others such as Grouchy could not operate independently without Marshal Berthier, Napoleon’s long-time chief of staff, to translate Napoleon’s orders and intents. Others were incompetent field commanders such as Jerome, Napoleon’s younger brother. Napoleon’s choice of Marshal Soult as his chief of staff was flawed. Soult was better as a field commander. Marshal Davout should not have been left in Paris as Minister of War because he would have made a better chief of staff than Soult. In short, Napoleon had summoned together a second-rate team in the field to execute a plan devised by a Great Captain not as capable physically and mentally as he had once been.

Lee had the advantage in leadership over his opponents. Whatever his subordinates lacked in prowess, they were loyal and brave. Lee was also able to recover from defeat at Gettysburg and fight for almost two more years. Napoleon could not recover from Waterloo and he left the field of battle in disgrace with his reputation in ruins. It would take many years before Napoleon would be returned to France. In 1840, after his body had lain in its grave on St. Helena for 19 years, he was reburied with national honors at Les Invalides in the heart of Paris. His tomb is a national monument and a major tourist attraction. Les Invalides is the old soldiers’ home of France. The Little Corporal is back with his troops.

Lee’s reputation only grew after the Civil War. In spite of some critical comments by General Longstreet, Lee was welcomed home by the South and universally respected by both Southerners and Northerners. His old adversary, General Grant, refused to arrest him when a vindictive President Johnson wanted it done, and Lee was received in the White House during Grant’s presidency. Lee is buried in simple splendor at Lexington, Virginia, in the state for which he gave up a brilliant career in the Union Army. He lies in a crypt below the student chapel of Washington and Lee College not far from his former office as the college’s president.

There is no grand cemetery at Waterloo as at Gettysburg. The Waterloo battlefield has gone back to the plow just as it was before the armies arrived to give battle. Very little, except for a few cafes, monuments, and a garish Butte du Lion earth mound that towers over the site reveals that the greatest battle of the 19 th century was fought over the Belgian fields of grain. The man-made terrain features such as the fortified farms of Hougoumont and La Haie Sainte still stand, but the “Sandpit” and Victor Hugo’s famous “sunken toad” have vanished with the making of the artificial Butte du Lion earth monument.

Gettysburg, on the other hand, is the site of a National Cemetery and President Lincoln’s famous Gettysburg Address. The battlefield is laid out for tourists. There are monuments both large and small galore. It seems as if every unit and famous person that fought there is memorialized in some way. The famous “Bloody Angle” and “Peach orchard” have been restored, and the “Devil’s Den” and “Little Round Top” are preserved as they were more than hundred years ago. Both Gettysburg and Waterloo were victories for established authority. Waterloo marked the end of Napoleon’s 100-Day resurrection of his First Empire and the end of the Napoleonic Era. Gettysburg was the high-water mark of the Southern Confederacy and the last hope for an independent South. Both battles were poignant defeats for legendary “Lost Causes.”

Thomas D. MORGAN, LTC (Ret)