Not until six in the morning of June 16th did the Duke of Wellington leave Brussels, and, had the orders which he issued the evening before been carried out, he would have found Ney between himself and the English army, with the Prussians annihilated! Acting upon their own responsibility, Major Normann and the Prince of Saxe-Weimar had taken possession of Quatre Bras. The Prince of Orange’s Chief of Staff, Constant Rebecque, delivered to the officers the written orders of Wellington, but told them verbally, in effect, not to obey. As a matter of fact, these officers paid no attention to the written orders, but acted upon their own judgment. They could see for themselves what ought to be done, and they did it. They all rushed to Quatre Bras, determined to hold it at whatever cost. At ten o’clock, Wellington arrived, and he congratulated General Perponcher on being in possession of Quatre Bras, whose vital importance he now recognized for the first time. Not being attacked at Quatre Bras, Wellington rode to the heights of Brye to see, for himself, what was going on at Ligny. He and Blücher went up in the mill of Bussy, from whose roof they could plainly see every movement of the French. It was now too late for the Prussians to escape battle. Therefore, Wellington, in parting from Blücher to return to Quatre Bras, coolly said, “I will come to your support provided I am not attacked myself.” To his aide Wellington remarked, “If he fights here he will be damnably licked.” No wonder that Gneisenau, Chief of Staff to Blücher, formed the opinion that Wellington was a “master-knave.” Had the Prussian hero, Blücher, been as craftily selfish as Wellington, there would have been no Waterloo. On his arrival at Quatre Bras, Wellington found that Ney had at last realized the true meaning of the Emperor’s orders, and he made frantic efforts to regain what he had lost. Too late. Vainly Jerome Bonaparte fights with desperate courage to win and hold the Boissou wood: vainly Kellerman hurls his handful of horsemen upon the ever-increasing infantry of the enemy; vainly Ney exposes himself to the hottest fire, rallying broken lines and leading them back to the charge. Too late. Regiment after regiment of the English army arrives. In hot haste, the young officers, who, a few hours ago, had been dancing at the Duchess of Richmond’s ball, throw themselves into the fight, still in the silk stockings and buckled shoes of the ball-room. So impetuous had been the assault of the French that at first the English and Hanoverians were driven. The Duke of Wellington, narrowly escaping capture, was borne backward by the rout. In person he rallied his men and led a cavalry charge which broke on the French line. Not until the coming up of Picton’s division did the tide decisively turn; but then the French, heavily outnumbered, were worsted at all points.