Old Friends, Now Enemies

Le maréchal Davout sur le champ de bataille.¹
Jacques Onfroy de Bréville dit OB (PD)

Maréchal Davout adjusted his spectacles after having handed his glass to an aide. He was sure that the troops occupying the village ahead, Frasnes according to his map, were Dutchmen. Nassauers to be more precise. All he had on hand at the moment were four squadrons of the Guard Red Lancers. Oddly enough, that unit, originally raised for the Dutch Guard, when it was part of France, still had a few Dutchmen in their ranks. He wasn't worried about their loyalty. They were fanatically devoted to Napoléon.

"Nassauers, Sir. From what I can see, they have no flank support," the aide spoke, confirming the Marshal's observation.

Turning to de Colbert, the commander of the lancer regiment, he pointed to the village ahead and spoke, "Flank them de Colbert, send one squadron right up the middle. I don't think they mean to hold this far forward."

"Sir!" de Colbert turned his mount and went to join his men.

"How far back is Reille?"

"No more than an hour, Sir."

Davout pulled his watch from his waistcoat, consulted it, then looked at the angle of the sun above the horizon. "I make it to be six of the clock, François, we have at least four more hours of light at this time of year. Send someone back to get Reille to move his ass."

Lieutenant François Bessette, wrote a message and handed it to one of the junior aides, who set off at once.

"I don't like this, Sir." Sergeant Schoneveld was nervous as he and his officer watched the French cavalry begin to ride to either side of the village.

"They're just cavalry, Schoneveld, we're safe among these buildings." 1e Luitenant Wilhelm Höelschen admonished his senior non-commissioned officer.

"Do you reckon they're alone, Sir? I'd bet my next years' pay that there are infantry coming up the road from Charleroi, a lot of infantry. And those aren't just any cavalry, Sir. Those are Guard lancers, you can see their Polish caps."

At that point Höelschen started to get a little nervous. There was nothing behind them until you got to Quatre Bras, some four kilometers north along the main road to Brussels.

"Alright, let's fall back, quickly now, Bijleveld's battery is covering the road at Le Balcan farm, the rest of the battalion is there as well. I think that is what Bonaparte wants us to do. This time, I'll oblige the man."

Source

After the Nassauers had been hustled back out of Frasnes, Davout sat on his horse, looking north as the first unit of Général de Division Reille's II Corps began marching past. Beside him was the commander of Reille's 1st Brigade of the 5th Division, Général de Brigade Baron Pierre-Antoine Husson.

"According to my map, Quatre Bras would be an excellent spot for Monsieur Wellington to stop us. But my scouts tell me that the crossroads is only held by a smattering of Dutchmen and Belgians, we probably know some of them." Davout's harsh laugh sparked a memory for Husson.

"Brave men, Sir. This area once belonged to France."

"And it will again, if we maneuver carefully and hit the enemy hard. Ah, there is Reille."

Davout nodded in the direction of a mounted general officer surrounded by members of his staff as they left the road and approached Davout's position. It was indeed Général de Division Comte Honoré Charles Reille.

"It's about time, Reille. The sun will set in a couple of hours, I want the crossroads at Quatre Bras before then. Get your men to move faster."

"They're exhausted, Sir, they've been marching since early this morning."

"They can rest once we have the crossroads, and not a moment before. Now move them, Reille, build a fire under your brigade commanders."

Reille's face didn't betray what he was thinking, but he knew that Davout was right.

Source

Davout, Reille, and Reille's division and brigade commanders were gathered around a table in the kitchen of a farm on the main road. Someone had mentioned that it was owned by the Delsot family, none of whom were around, no doubt they had fled when the Emperor's army had crossed the border.

Davout pointed to the rough map his engineer had prepared, "We need to take these three places before we can seize the crossroads, and we must be quick about it, les anglais won't look to Mons once the Dutchmen report our men moving on Quatre Bras. Two infantry corps and a cavalry division tend to get attention. To the west is this farm, Grand Pierrepont I'm told. In the center is the farm of Gemioncourt, and in the east is the village of Piraumont. It's swampy on that flank so I don't want to make a major effort there, screening those positions off should be enough."

Reille leaned over the map and pointed at the forest behind Grand Pierrepont, "There must be light infantry in those woods, that's where I'd put my lights if I was defending the crossroads."

Davout nodded, "You have at least 7,000 light troops in your corps, yes?"

"Sir, I have five regiments of infanterie légère², the 1st, 2nd, 4th, 11th, and 12th, thirteen battalions all told. There are a solid core of veterans in each battalion, most of the men have at least two campaigns, Leipzig and the battle for France in '14. Some have been with the eagles since Austerlitz. They are hungry for revenge."

Davout nodded again, "Use your infanterie légère to clear this wood," pointing at the Bois de Bossu³ on the map, "Once you've cleared the wood, have your men put pressure on whoever is holding the crossroads. Also, have them prepare to hold the wood against any forces coming down from Brussels or over from Nivelles."

Reille's chief of staff was busy preparing the orders to launch the light infantry on their mission so he almost missed what Davout said next.

"The Emperor has promised me Kellermann's III Cavalry Corps, they are still well back on the road to France. But I want a heavy attack launched on Gemioncourt, once that farm is cleared we should be able to attack the crossroads directly."

Reille looked at his chief of staff, "III Cavalry Corps is composed of heavy cavalry, nearly 4,000 sabers. Our biggest division is the 6th, that of Prince Jérôme, at nearly 8,000 men it's nearly twice the size of the other divisions, he has some very good regiments in his outfit. We'll use him to hit Gemioncourt, once that falls, we'll push on up the road, provided we can have the support of Kellermann's heavies."

Davout nodded yet again, "You shall have them."

Turning to his own chief of staff he said, "Send a message to Comte d'Erlon⁴, have him gather his corps around Frasnes, have him detach one division to march here. The remainder must be prepared to either join us at Quatre Bras, or march to the Emperor's aid in the direction of Marbais. From there he can either fall on Blücher's right flank, should the Prussians choose to stand there, or come in on Wellington's left flank at Quatre Bras."

Jérôme Bonaparte spoke up, "You speak of Wellington as if he is on the field, my brother, who I talked to last night, said that the English commander is still in Brussels. We're facing Dutchmen and Belgians here. I do not see a problem with us taking the crossroads. Comte d'Erlon should move towards Marbais immediately. At least that is my opinion."

Everyone looked at the Emperor's brother, the one time King of Westphalia, a corps commander in Russia, now a division commander, rather a long fall everyone thought but never mentioned in the Prince's presence.

Général de Division Baron Gilbert Bachelu, commanding Reille's 5th Division, spoke up, "My Prince, many of those Dutchmen and Belgians marched under our banners in the past. They learned their trade from your brother, the Emperor. I wouldn't look down on their abilities."

Prince Jérôme shook his head, "I still say we shall sweep them from the field tomorrow."

Davout interrupted, "Tomorrow, my Prince? You misunderstand me, we march immediately. I want to present the crossroads of Quatre Bras to the Emperor this very day. The signal to march will be three cannon shot. Is everyone clear?"

Those present nodded, then left to prepare their commands.

Davout checked his time piece once more, a half past seven, the sun would set in an hour. But at this time of year, the twilight lingered nearly another hour after that. He might not seize the crossroads tonight, but he would drive the enemy out of their forward positions, giving him the advantage should he need to continue the fight on the morrow.

He paused for a moment and turned to an aide, "Matthieu, today is the 15th, yes?"

"Yes Sir, Thursday, the 15th of June."

He nodded, today, or tomorrow, might go down in history as the day the Empire was saved. Only time would tell.

¹ Marshal Davout on the battlefield.

² Light infantry.

³ Bossu Wood.

⁴ Général de Division Comte Jean-Baptiste Drouet d'Erlon, commander of I Corps.