The Road to Waterloo: Napoleon’s Final Gamble

The Hundred Days—Napoleon’s dramatic return from exile in 1815—marked the last chapter of the Napoleonic Wars. Marshal Michel Ney, once celebrated as “the Bravest of the Brave,” found himself torn between loyalty to the restored Bourbon monarchy and his old commander. When Napoleon landed at Golfe-Juan, Ney famously vowed to bring him back “in an iron cage,” only to defect days later. This decision would haunt him.

By June 1815, Napoleon’s hastily assembled Armée du Nord faced the Seventh Coalition near Waterloo. Ney, commanding the left wing, played a pivotal but controversial role. His aggressive cavalry charges against Wellington’s squares—unsupported by infantry—became emblematic of the battle’s mismanagement. Yet as the French lines collapsed, Ney’s conduct shifted from criticized to heroic.

The Retreat: A Marshal’s Ordeal

As dusk fell on June 18, Ney became the last senior officer on the field. Mounted on his fifth horse of the day (the others had been shot beneath him), he rallied shattered regiments with his sword, his uniform torn by bullets. When no horse remained, he marched on foot until a fellow officer lent him a mount. His journey to rejoin Napoleon—through enemy patrols and collapsing supply lines—epitomized desperation.

At Avesnes, Ney found chaos but no orders. Convinced Paris must know the truth, he secured a carriage and raced to the capital, arriving on June 21. There, he delivered a blunt assessment to the Chamber of Peers: “The enemy has triumphed completely.” His stark honesty shattered any illusion of regrouping, hastening Napoleon’s final abdication.

The Scapegoat: Ney Under the Bourbons

With Louis XVIII’s return, Ney faced inevitable retribution. The Bourbons branded him a traitor twice over: first for abandoning them in 1814, then for rejoining Napoleon. Pamphlets accused him of losing Waterloo single-handedly. Even former comrades, like Davout, distanced themselves.

Ney’s defiant letter to Fouché—a detailed rebuttal of his critics—revealed his bitterness. He blamed Napoleon for diverting troops from his flank and denounced the “shameful lies” in official bulletins. Yet his words changed nothing. The royalist purge had begun, and Ney’s name topped the list.

Flight and Capture: The Tragic Pursuit

Given passports under a false name (“Michel Neubourg”), Ney hesitated too long. By August, he was trapped. Legend claims a distinctive Mamluk sword (a gift from Napoleon) betrayed him at Bessonis Castle, though historians note he carried no weapons. Arrested by gendarmes, he surrendered calmly: “I am Marshal Ney.”

His trial was a foregone conclusion. Despite his wife Aglaé’s pleas to Louis XVIII—reminding the king of Ney’s role in Napoleon’s 1814 abdication—the court-martial (stacked with royalists) convicted him in minutes. The sentence: death by firing squad.

Legacy: Martyrdom and Memory

On December 7, 1815, Ney refused a blindfold and gave the firing squad their orders: “Soldiers, straight to the heart!” His execution, near the Luxembourg Gardens, became a symbol of post-war vengeance. Liberals framed him as a victim of Bourbon repression; Bonapartists hailed his loyalty.

Today, historians debate Ney’s tactical errors but admire his courage. His statue in Paris, erected in 1853, bears the inscription: “To the Bravest of the Brave.” In defeat, Ney embodied both the glory and tragedy of Napoleon’s era—a soldier who fought for France, only to be abandoned by all sides.

### Modern Reflections: Ney’s Enduring Myth

From Stendhal’s novels to Ridley Scott’s Napoleon, Ney’s story captivates. Was he a flawed hero or a loyalist undone by politics? His fate underscores the peril of soldiering in revolutionary times—where yesterday’s victor becomes today’s outlaw. As Waterloo’s bicentennial passes, Ney’s legacy endures: a reminder that history judges not just battles, but the men caught in their wake.