In the same manner, in 1815, when Blücher had his army quietly in cantonments between the Sambre and the Rhine, and Wellington was attending fêtes in Brussels, both waiting a signal for the invasion of France, Napoleon, who was supposed to be at Paris entirely engrossed with diplomatic ceremonies, at the head of his guard, which had been but recently reformed in the capital, fell like a thunderbolt upon Charleroi and Blücher's quarters, his columns arriving from all points of the compass, with rare punctuality, on the 14th of June, in the plains of Beaumont and upon the banks of the Sambre. (Napoleon did not leave Paris until the 12th.)

The combinations described above were the results of wise strategic calculations, but their execution was undoubtedly a masterpiece of logistics. In order to exhibit more clearly the merit of these measures, I will mention, by way of contrast, two cases where faults in logistics came very near leading to fatal consequences. Napoleon having been recalled from Spain in 1809 by the fact of Austria's taking up arms, and being certain that this power intended war, he sent Berthier into Bavaria upon the delicate duty of concentrating the army, which was extended from Braunau as far as Strasbourg and Erfurt. Davoust was returning from the latter city, Oudinot from Frankfort; Massena, who had been on his way to Spain, was retiring toward Ulm by the Strasbourg route; the Saxons, Bavarians, and Wurtembergers were moving from their respective countries. The corps were thus separated by great distances, and the Austrians, who had been long concentrated, might easily break through this spider's web or brush away its threads. Napoleon was justly uneasy, and ordered Berthier to assemble the army at Ratisbon if the war had not actually begun on his arrival, but, if it had, to concentrate it in a more retired position toward Ulm.

The reason for this alternative order was obvious. If the war had begun, Ratisbon was too near the Austrian frontier for a point of assembly, as the corps might thus be thrown separately into the midst of two hundred thousand enemies; but by fixing upon Ulm as the point of rendezvous the army would be concentrated sooner, or, at any rate, the enemy would have five or six marches more to make before reaching-it,—which was a highly-important consideration as the parties were then situated.

No great talent was needed to understand this. Hostilities having commenced, however, but a few days after Berthier's arrival at Munich, this too celebrated chief of staff was so foolish as to adhere to a literal obedience of the order he had received, without conceiving its obvious intention: he not only desired the army to assemble at Ratisbon, but even obliged Davoust to return toward that city, when that marshal had had the good sense to fall back from Amberg toward Ingolstadt.

Napoleon, having, by good fortune, been informed by telegraph of the passage of the Inn twenty-four hours after its occurrence, came with the speed of lightning to Abensberg, just as Davoust was on the point of being surrounded and his army cut in two or scattered by a mass of one hundred and eighty thousand enemies. We know how wonderfully Napoleon succeeded in rallying his army, and what victories he gained on the glorious days of Abensberg, Siegberg, Landshut, Eckmühl, and Ratisbon, that repaired the faults committed by his chief of staff with his contemptible logistics.

We shall finish these illustrations with a notice of the events which preceded and were simultaneous with the passage of the Danube before the battle of Wagram. The measures taken to bring to a specified point of the island of Lobau the corps of the Viceroy of Italy from Hungary, that of Marmont from Styria, that of Bernadotte from Linz, are less wonderful than the famous imperial decree of thirty-one articles which regulated the details of the passage and the formation of the troops in the plains of Enzersdorf, in presence of one hundred and forty thousand Austrians and five hundred cannon, as if the operation had been a military fête. These masses were all assembled upon the island on the evening of the 4th of July; three bridges were immediately thrown over an arm of the Danube one hundred and fifty yards wide, on a very dark night and amidst torrents of rain; one hundred and fifty thousand men passed over the bridges, in presence of a formidable enemy, and were drawn up before mid-day in the plain, three miles in advance of the bridges which they covered by a change of front; the whole being accomplished in less time than might have been supposed necessary had it been a simple maneuver for instruction and after being several times repeated. The enemy had, it is true, determined to offer no serious opposition to the passage; but Napoleon did not know that fact, and the merit of his dispositions is not at all diminished by it.

Singularly enough, however, the chief of staff, although he made ten copies of the famous decree, did not observe that by mistake the bridge of the center had been assigned to Davoust, who had the right wing, whilst the bridge on the right was assigned to Oudinot, who was in the center. These two corps passed each other in the night, and, had it not been for the good sense of the men and their officers, a dreadful scene of confusion might have been the result. Thanks to the supineness of the enemy, the army escaped all disorder, except that arising from a few detachments following corps to which they did not belong. The most remarkable feature of the whole transaction is found in the fact that after such a blunder Berthier should have received the title of Prince of Wagram.

The error doubtless originated with Napoleon while dictating his decree; but should it not have been detected by a chief of staff who made ten copies of the order and whose duty it was to supervise the formation of the troops?

Another no less extraordinary example of the importance of good logistics was afforded at the battle of Leipsic. In fighting this battle, with a defile in rear of the army as at Leipsic, and in the midst of low ground, wooded, and cut up by small streams and gardens, it was highly important to have a number of small bridges, to prepare the banks for approaching them with ease, and to stake out the roads. These precautions would not have prevented the loss of a decisive battle; but they would have saved the lives of a considerable number of men, as well as the guns and carriages that were abandoned on account of the disorder and of there being no roads of escape. The unaccountable blowing up of the bridge of Lindenau was also the result of unpardonable carelessness upon the part of the staff corps, which indeed existed only in name, owing to the manner of Berthier's management of it. We must also agree that Napoleon, who was perfectly conversant with the logistical measures of an offensive campaign, had then never seriously thought what would be proper precautions in the event of defeat, and when the emperor was present himself no one thought of making any arrangement for the future unless by his direction.

To complete what I proposed when I commenced this article, it becomes necessary for me to add some remarks with reference to reconnoissances. They are of two kinds: the first are entirely topographical and statistical, and their object is to gain a knowledge of a country, its accidents of ground, its roads, defiles, bridges, &c., and to learn its resources and means of every kind. At the present day, when the sciences of geography, topography, and statistics are in such an advanced state, these reconnoissances are less necessary than formerly; but they are still very useful, and it is not probable that the statistics of any country will ever be so accurate that they may be entirely dispensed with. There are many excellent books of instruction as to the art of making these reconnoissances, and I must direct the attention of my readers to them.