In the fighting of the 18th and 19th, Thielemann lost 2,500 men; the French about 2,200; and the results were very creditable to the Prussians. Attacked by more than double his numbers, and with very little time to prepare his defence, Thielemann had held off the French during all the critical hours of the afternoon and evening of the 18th. He had successfully occupied the whole of Grouchy’s force during the time when the latter might still have been of use to Napoleon. Without knowing it, Grouchy had been almost surrounded, but Borcke’s Division took no advantage of its position. How near to, and yet how far from, succouring Napoleon was Grouchy! A little fore-thought, more energy, and a bolder initiative on Grouchy’s part would have overcome the opposition of the elements, and rendered Napoleon’s great stroke a success. As an example of a defence of a river and village, the battle of Wavre was a brilliant exploit. The courage on both sides was of the highest order. Thielemann held Wavre as long as he could, and only withdrew when he saw that his opportunity would occur the moment Grouchy learned the result of Waterloo. To stay in his position, after the French had taken Bierges, would have been to court disaster, but to retreat too soon would have ruined his chances of rallying again to the attack. In the previous night’s attacks, the Prussians had shown great courage and tenacity, and the French were no less courageous and determined; their movements in the darkness were carried out with surprising skill, and reflect highly on their management and control. Vandamme’s repeated efforts against the bridges might have been avoided, and every available man brought across the Dyle at Limale, leaving only enough men to watch Zeppelin in and around Wavre itself. [Illustration: MAP ILLUSTRATING GROUCHY’S RETREAT FROM NAMUR, JUNE 20-28, 1815. _William Stanford & Company, Ltd._, _The Oxford Geographical Institute._ John Murray, Albemarle St., W.] CHAPTER VIII GROUCHY’S RETREAT Grouchy first heard the news of Napoleon’s defeat at half-past ten on the morning of the 19th, just as he was preparing to pursue Thielemann and push his infantry towards Brussels. The news was brought by a staff officer, riding up with the most dejected appearance. He could scarcely get his words out, and Grouchy seemed at first to believe that the fellow was mad. But at last there was no doubt about it: the French had been severely beaten. What was Grouchy to do? Should he continue his own operations, as if nothing had happened, and keep his men in ignorance, whereby he might yet cover Napoleon’s retreat? Or should he retreat himself before he was hemmed in?