Carnot said: “I do not know him again. He talks instead of acting, he the man of rapid decisions; he asks opinions, he the imperious dictator, who seemed insulted by advice; his mind wanders, though he used to have the power of attending to everything, when and as he would; he is sleepy, and he used to sleep and wake at pleasure.”
CHAPTER XLVIII
All had been done that could be done—all that it was in his nature to do. He had equipped two hundred thousand men in arms, and had filled them with martial fire. He had called back to the service every officer who would come, saving Augereau, who had betrayed Lyons in 1814, and Murat, who had joined the Allies. He had courted the liberals, temporized with the Jacobins, tolerated the royalists, and shut his eyes to incipient treason. To the Constants and La Fayettes he had said, “Gentlemen, don’t waste time in debates on constitutional law while the nation is in danger; unite with me to save her”; but he knew that his appeal was wasted. To the dangerous traitor Fouché he had said, “I ought to have you shot”; but he left him minister, and knew that if battles were lost, Fouché would be the first to plot for the return of the Bourbons.
He listened to Jacobin songs, appreciated Jacobin strength, and believed that he could win the fight if he would put on the red bonnet. But he would not. In Brumaire, 1799, he had said, “If I conquer with the Jacobins, I would then have to conquer against them.” His opinions had not changed. If he put on the red cap of the Jacobins, and put guns into their hands, he might save his own crown; but how about his son? Democracy once unchained, who would ever bind it again? Thus he would not nationalize the war—his one chance of success.
With two hundred thousand men, the Emperor, who might have enrolled a million, turned to face all Europe. The allied kings already had a million men in arms, and England was supplying $55,000,000 a month to pay them. In quality, Napoleon had led few better armies than that of his last campaign; but while the troops were passionately devoted to the Emperor, they had lost confidence in many of the higher officers, and went to the front dreading treachery in their leaders.
The Russians and Austrians could not reach the Rhine before July; but the armies of Blücher and Wellington, about one hundred thousand each, were already in Belgium. Napoleon could strike at these with only about one hundred and twenty-five thousand. But as the enemy was widely scattered, and was not expecting immediate attack, he believed that he might best open the war by throwing himself between Wellington and Blücher, preventing their junction, crushing them in detail, and thus discourage the coalition to such an extent that he might detach at least some of its members.
Had he waited two weeks longer, he could have taken with him the twelve thousand troops who were putting down the royalists in La Vendée; but he could not foresee that the revolt would be quelled so soon. Other errors, however, were committed, for which he alone was responsible. He left his best officer, Davoust, in Paris, instead of employing him in the field. Had Davoust been put in Grouchy’s place, the result of the campaign would almost certainly have been different. Again, he had given no confidence to Ney, had not even notified the marshal whether he was to be employed. It was so late when Ney got his orders that the campaign had already opened, and the fighting begun before he could arrive from Paris, without his horses, and accompanied by a single aide-de-camp.
Another thing: the Emperor gave the command of his right wing, which was to act independently, to an officer untried in that capacity,—Grouchy; and he did it over the protest of Soult and other general officers, who warned him that Grouchy was not the man for such a place.
A gross blunder was made as to Bourmont. This man had been one of the Chouan chiefs of 1800, to whom Napoleon extended clemency. Pardoned, then, by the First Consul, he had afterwards been implicated in the Georges conspiracy, and had fled to Portugal. Junot picked him up there, took a fancy to him, got him employed; and the man being a good officer, won rapid promotion. In 1814 he had been one of the traitors, and had gone over to the Bourbons. In 1815 he fell in with the Napoleonic tide, and professed the zeal of a sincere imperialist. Seeking employment in the army, he was contemptuously refused by Davoust, who told him that he must perform quarantine. Most unfortunately, Labédoyère and Gérard had faith in Bourmont, and the matter was carried to the Emperor. To Labédoyère, Napoleon could refuse nothing, and Bourmont was appointed to the command of one of the finest divisions.