Nothing now, in a military sense, could save Napoleon, except to concentrate all his forces into one body and manœuvre against the allies with his old vigor. But the Emperor Napoleon could not bear to give up Italy, Belgium, Spain, as General Bonaparte had given up Mantua to beat the enemy at Castiglione; and he committed the grievous mistake of not concentrating all his forces for the defence of France. The campaign around Paris is a marvel of audacious activity, though indeed it did not bring up any of the larger intellectual problems of Marengo, Ulm, or Jena. If Napoleon had done half as good work with the larger army he might have had, there is scarce a doubt but that he would have gone far towards peace with honor. As it was, he was crushed by numbers. But no words can too highly phrase his military conduct, within its limits, in this brief campaign. There is but one mistake,—the underrating of his enemy, the misinterpretation of manifest facts.

The Waterloo campaign (1815), as already said, bears marked resemblance to that of 1796. The details of Waterloo are so well known that only the reasons will be noted which appear to make Napoleon’s first so great a success and his last so great a failure.

At the beginning of June, Napoleon had available for Belgium, where he proposed to strike the allied forces, one hundred and ten thousand foot, and thirteen thousand five hundred horse. In Belgium were Wellington, covering Brussels with ninety-five thousand men, and Blucher lying from Charleroi to Namur with one hundred and twenty-four thousand. Napoleon was superior to either; inferior to both together. He chose against these allied armies the same offensive manœuvre he had employed against Beaulieu and Colli,—a strategic breaking of their centre, so as to separate them and attack each one separately. The controlling reasons were the same. The allies were of different nationalities, and each had a different base, as well as varying interests. If cut in two they no doubt would retire eccentrically, of which Napoleon could take immediate advantage. The key to the whole problem was the exhibition by him of foresight, boldness, and rapid action. The plan could not be better.

He concentrated on Charleroi. From here led two pikes, one to Brussels, which was Wellington’s line of advance and retreat, one to Liège, which was Blucher’s. Wellington and Blucher were connected by the Namur-Nivelles road, which cut the other pikes at Quatre-Bras and near Ligny. In order to push in between the allies to any effect, Napoleon must seize on both these points.

WATERLOO CAMPAIGN

The French army broke up June 15th at 3 A.M. Napoleon was full of eagerness and early in the saddle. The French advanced with slight opposition to Quatre-Bras, and forced the Prussians back to Fleurus. Napoleon remained in the saddle all day, then retired to Charleroi overcome with a fatigue which seemed to paralyze his mental faculties. He could no longer conquer sleep as of old. His bodily condition was bad, and even the necessity of present success was unable to evoke persistent effort. There is a singular difference between Napoleon at this time and grim old Frederick in 1759 suffering from gout. The king never gave up for an instant his restless work. Disease and pain could not subdue his obstinate diligence. The emperor’s ailments overcame his zeal. Here began those little lapses of unused time whose addition, in four days, sufficed to bring Napoleon to the end of his career. The plan of campaign was as brilliantly thought out and begun as that of 1796, and with equal vigor would have equally succeeded. Wellington and Blucher had foreseen the manœuvre, and agreed to concentrate for mutual support at Quatre-Bras and Ligny. But Wellington, instead of holding Quatre-Bras, gave Nivelles as the rallying-point. Not even Würmser or Mack could have made an error more in Napoleon’s favor, for this separated him from Blucher instead of gaining him his support. Napoleon had the chance to strike Blucher singly. Wellington had not yet assembled. Napoleon should have reached Quatre-Bras and Ligny on the 15th, as he could easily have done, or at a very early hour on the 16th. But no orders even were issued till nearly 9 A.M. of the 16th. In his old days, Napoleon would have been at the outposts at daylight, have gauged the situation with his own eyes and his incomparable power of judgment, and would have attacked at an early hour. But he did not reach the ground till noon nor finish his reconnoissance till 2 P.M. Ney had been sent to Quatre-Bras.

Despite delays, however, part of Napoleon’s plan did succeed. Wellington was prevented from joining Blucher, and Blucher was beaten and fell back in disorder. Now Napoleon’s object was so to manœuvre as to keep the allies apart. This could be done only by immediate pursuit. He must push on after Blucher relentlessly, so as to throw him off in an easterly direction, where he could observe him with a small force, while he should dispose of Wellington singly. And the more Wellington should manage to push back Ney, the graver danger he would run.

Nothing was done about the pursuit of Blucher on the night of 16th to 17th. Next morning Napoleon leisurely visited the battle-field of Ligny and conversed with his officers about indifferent things. None of the old-time drive was manifest. It was again noon before he ordered Grouchy in pursuit of the Prussians, while he himself would turn against the English. Grouchy got off about 2 P.M. No one knew at that time whether Blucher had retired on Namur or Wavre. In earlier days Napoleon would have ascertained this fact with his own eyes, for it was the one fact to make no mistake about. Whether to ascertain this was the duty of the staff or the general is immaterial. That Napoleon did not do so may not have been his fault; but it was his misfortune. Great captains have won success by personal activity and by relying only on themselves in critical matters. In estimating a great soldier, one must number all his errors of omission and commission. No general may shelter himself behind the lapse of a subordinate. He must stand or fall by what he himself does or fails to do.

But the fate of the campaign was already sealed. Blucher had had the night of the 16th to 17th, and the morning of the 17th, and he had used the respite well. He boldly threw up his own base on Liège and marched on Wavre to rejoin Wellington. Napoleon had assumed that Blucher would retire along his line of communications. He desired him to do this, and erroneously calculated on his having done so. The object of breaking the allied centre, the sundering of the allies so as to beat them in detail, had been forfeited by the sixteen or eighteen hours of unnecessary delays after the battle of Ligny.