Grouchy and the fall of an empire

The phrase, 'he met his Waterloo' has entered the English language and almost everyone knows it means that someone, probably powerful, has fallen; contextually the words have most often been applied to those guilty of hubris in no small measure and therefore by implication it has been a ruin deserved. It is, perhaps, not unfair that the vanquishing of Napoleon, Emperor of the French, should have been the phrase's origin. He was a 'chancer' on a grand scale, much given to vanity and his last bid for power, which propelled him from exile on a small Mediterranean island to commander once again of a French Army ready to take on the imperial powers of Europe, may not have paid dividends-irrespective of the outcome of the battle in Belgium in 1815. Yet there has always been an issue about Napoleon's defeat on the muddy slopes outside Waterloo on 18th June, because it is, in the minds of many, impossible to reconcile such a crushing defeat-which included so many blunders-with the military genius that had, until then, so demonstrably defined Napoleon. Indeed, some would argue, how could it have been his fault? Surely the blame should be laid at the feet of someone else. Some have pointed the finger of suspicion at Ney, 'bravest of the brave' for repeatedly leading the massed, but unsupported, cavalry charges against the squares of the allied army on their stubbornly held ridge. Most, however, have looked towards Marshal Grouchy as the culprit. Was Grouchy responsible for the downfall of the Napoleonic epoch? Did he, in command of sufficient forces, in a position to turn defeat into victory, fail his master? Or was he merely faithfully following orders as he closely pursued the retreating Prussians? Was he chosen by Napoleon because he would follow orders religiously? Was Grouchy a timid laggard or a scapegoat? This debate has continued since the battle itself, without a definitive conclusion. In this book Frederick Llewellyn gathers together several crucial, contemporary takes on the events, including Grouchy's own, which, for reasons of individual length, may not have found their way into print again in the modern age. The text draws few conclusions, but it does at least enable readers to judge for themselves.
Leonaur editions are newly typeset and are not facsimiles; each title is available in softcover and hardback with dustjacket.