men. How much of all this the French spies and emissaries made known to Napoleon does not appear. One thing only is certain, that Napoleon's flag of truce was sent back with his message undelivered. This ominous fact had to be considered in connection with the movements of the enemy. They had learned one of Napoleon's own secrets. In a bulletin of 1805 are the words: "It rains hard, but that does not stop the march of the grand army." In 1806 he boasted concerning Prussia: "While people are deliberating, the French army is marching." In 1813, while he himself was vacillating, his foes were stirring. On October third, Blücher, having accomplished a superb strategic march, drove Bertrand to Bitterfeld, and stood before Kemberg, west of the Elbe, with sixty-four thousand men; Bernadotte, with eighty thousand, was crossing at Acken and Rosslau; and Schwarzenberg, with a hundred and seventy thousand, was already south of Leipsic; Bennigsen, with fifty thousand reserves, had reached Teplitz. The enemy would clearly concentrate at Leipsic and cut off Napoleon's base unless he retreated. But it was October fifth before the bitter resolution to do so was taken, and then the movement began under compulsion. Murat was sent, with three infantry corps and one of cavalry, to hold Schwarzenberg until the necessary manœuvers could be completed.

CHAPTER III

The End of the Grand Army[3]

Plans for Conducting the Retreat — Napoleon's Health — Blücher's Brilliant Idea — Napoleon under Compulsion — His Skilful Concentration — The Battle-field around Leipsic — The Attack — Results of the First Day's Fighting — Attempt to Negotiate — Napoleon's Apathy — The Positions of the Third Day — The Grand Army Defeated — The Disaster at the Elster Bridge — Dissolution of the Grand Army.

But how should the retreat be conducted? Napoleon's habit of reducing his thoughts to writing for the sake of clearness remained strong upon him to the last, and in the painstaking notes which he made with regard to this important move he outlined two alternatives: to garrison Dresden with two corps, send three to reconnoiter about Chemnitz, and then march, with five and the guard, to attack Schwarzenberg; or else to strengthen Murat, place him between Schwarzenberg and Leipsic, and then advance to drive Bernadotte and Blücher behind the Elbe. But in winter the frozen Elbe with its flat shores would be no rampart. Both plans were abandoned, and on the seventh orders were issued for a retreat behind the Saale, the precipitous banks of which were a natural fortification. Behind this line of defense he could rest in safety during the winter, with his right at Erfurt and his left at Magdeburg. Dresden must, he concluded, be evacuated. This would deprive the allies of the easy refuge behind the Saxon and Bohemian mountains which they had sought at every onset, but it might leave them complete masters of Saxony. To avoid this he must take one of three courses: either halt behind the Mulde for one blow at the armies of the North and of Silesia, or join Murat for a decisive battle with the Austrian general, or else concentrate at Leipsic, and meet the onset of the united allies, now much stronger than he was.

The night of the seventh was spent in indecision as to any one or all of these ideas, but in active preparation for the actual movements of the retreat, however it should be conducted; any contingency might be met or a resolve taken when the necessity arose. During that night the Emperor took two warm baths. The habit of drinking strong coffee to prevent drowsiness had induced attacks of nervousness, and these were not diminished by his load of care. To allay these and other ailments, he had had recourse for some time to frequent tepid baths. Much has been written about a mysterious malady which had been steadily increasing, but the burden of testimony from the Emperor's closest associates at this time indicates that in the main he had enjoyed excellent health throughout the second Saxon campaign. He was, on the whole, calm and self-reliant, exhibiting signs of profound emotion only in connection with important decisions. He was certainly capable of clear insight and of severe application in a crisis; he could still endure exhausting physical exertion, and rode without discomfort, sitting his horse in the same stiff, awkward manner as of old. There were certainly intervals of self-indulgence and of lassitude, of excessive emotion and depressing self-examination, which seemed to require the offset of a physical stimulus; but on the whole there do not appear to have been such sharp attacks of illness, or even of morbid depression, as amount to providential interference; natural causes, complex but not inexplicable, sufficiently account for the subsequent disasters.

For instance, considerations of personal friendship having in earlier days often led him to unwise decisions, a like cause may be said to have brought on his coming disaster. It was the affection of the Saxon king for his beautiful capital which at the very last instant, on October eighth, induced Napoleon to cast all his well-weighed scheme to the winds, and—fatal decision!—leave Saint-Cyr and Lobau, with three corps, in Dresden. A decisive battle was imminent; the commander was untrue to his maxim that every division should be under the colors. But with or without his full force, the master-strategist was outwitted: the expected meeting did not take place as he finally reckoned. On the tenth his headquarters were at Düben, and his divisions well forward on the Elbe, ready for Bernadotte and Blücher; but there was no foe. Both these generals had been disconcerted by the unexpected swiftness of the French movements; the former actually contemplated recrossing the river to avoid a pitched battle with those whom he hoped before long to secure as his subjects. But the enthusiastic old Prussian shamed his ally into action, persuading him at least to march south from Acken, effect a junction with the army of Silesia, and cross the Saale to threaten Napoleon from the rear. This was a brilliant and daring plan, for if successful both armies might possibly unite with Schwarzenberg's; but even if unsuccessful in that, they would at least reproduce the situation in Silesia, and reduce the French to the "hither-and-thither" system, which, rendering a decisive battle impossible, had thwarted the Napoleonic strategy.

Napoleon spent a weary day of waiting in Düben, yawning and scribbling, but keeping his geographer and secretary in readiness. It was said at the time, and has since been repeated, that throughout this portion of the campaign Napoleon was not recognizable as himself: that he ruminated long when he should have been active; that he consulted when he should have given orders; that he was no longer ubiquitous as of old, but sluggish, and rooted to one spot. But it is hard to see what he left undone, his judgment being mistaken as it was. When rumors of Bernadotte's movements began to arrive, he dismissed the idea suggested by them as preposterous; when finally, on the twelfth, he heard that Blücher was actually advancing to Halle, and no possible doubt remained, he gave instant orders for a march on Leipsic. Critics have suggested that again delay had been his ruin; but this is not true. An advance over the Elbe toward Berlin in search of the enemy would merely have enabled Blücher and Bernadotte to join forces sooner, and have rendered their union with Schwarzenberg easier. No stricture is just but one: that Napoleon,