In the battle of Leipzig the reflecting observer discovers something
grand; but there is also much that puzzles one who is not a soldier, and
is accustomed to find in all Napoleon's campaigns a consistency of plan
which he here looks for in vain. If in his earlier combinations he did
not in every instance take all possibilities into the account, but
overlooked some, this must be ascribed not so much to the want of
military penetration, as to his firm confidence in his good fortune, and
in his ability to turn unforeseen accidents to his own advantage, or at
least to render them harmless. Rarely has a general been so highly
favoured by fortune for a long series of years as he. It is no wonder
then that this confidence at length increased to such a degree as
frequently to become the height of temerity. In Russia, Napoleon met
with many circumstances which he had not taken into his calculation; but
he nevertheless penetrated to Moscow. Here he for the first time
experienced such a reverse as no general ever yet sustained. His immense
army was entirely annihilated. His stern decree created a new one, to
all outward appearance equally formidable. From the haste with which its
component parts were collected, it could not but be deficient in
intrinsic energy, and it was impossible to doubt that this would be
shewn in time. In this respect his antagonists had a decided advantage,
as must have been obvious to him after the battles of Luetzen and
Bautzen. Had he not been so vastly superior in number to the Russian and
Prussian army in the first engagement, he would indisputably have been
defeated on that occasion.--The political relations of Europe had
moreover undergone an extraordinary change. He could not for a thousand
reasons be a moment doubtful of the choice of Austria. If with a strong
and well-appointed army she could not by negotiation bring about a peace
upon the basis of a future balance of power among the principal states
of Europe, in which Prussia and Russia were willing to acquiesce, there
could be no question that for the sake of her own existence she would
espouse the cause of those two powers. This Napoleon seems to have
considered as impossible, or the advantages already obtained must have
inspired him with the confidence that even the accession of Austria to
the alliance could not prevent the prosecution of his victorious career
to the Vistula. Could he have expected to encounter the whole Austrian
army in Silesia, or to reduce the fortresses of Upper Silesia, with such
rapidity as to be able a third time to menace Vienna, and to compel the
force assembled on the Bohemian frontiers to return with precipitation
to cover the capital? This would have been too presumptuous an idea. He
probably fancied himself strong enough, with 400,000 men, led on by
himself and the ablest generals of the age, to cope, if even Austria
should declare against him, with all three powers; especially if he
presumed that he should be able to force all the combined armies united
to a general engagement, and to annihilate them with a single blow. The
proposals for peace were rejected: not the slightest disposition was
shewn to treat, and the armistice of two months answered no other
purpose than to convince Austria of the absolute necessity of joining
the cause of the allies, and exerting all her energies to conquer that
peace by the sword, which there was not the least hope of accomplishing
by negotiation. By the accession of Austria the grand alliance had now
gained a manifest superiority, as well in regard to the number of troops
as to the geographical advantages of the theatre of war and resources.
After the renewal of hostilities Napoleon still seemed determined to
pursue his plan of advancing beyond the Oder. The allies were not to be
deceived by these demonstrations, but unexpectedly took post with their
main force in Bohemia, along the Saxon frontier, leaving in Silesia and
Brandenburg, where the crown-prince of Sweden had by this time arrived
with his gallant troops, armies strong enough to keep him in check by a
vigorous defensive system. The great Bohemian army was destined for
offensive operations. This plan was equally grand and judicious.
Silesia, and all Saxony, to the Elbe, could not fail, in consequence, to
be lost to Napoleon. That river, while he had only Prussia and Russia to
encounter, was a sure support in his rear; but no sooner had Austria
declared herself than it was no longer of any military consequence.
Dresden was the central point for the French army. There were organized
all the military bureaus, and all the branches of administration for the
economy of the army. The allies opened the campaign with a hasty advance
upon that important city. If the enterprise proved successful, its
consequences would be incalculable; if it miscarried, nothing would be
lost for the grand object; and at any rate the expedition would be a
diversion, which would immediately draw the French out of Silesia.
Napoleon now saw how egregiously he was deceived in his reckoning. He
hastened precipitately to save the Saxon capital. The army arrived
breathless. The allies were already assaulting the suburbs; and, had
Napoleon come one hour later, Dresden would have been in their power.
Owing to the unexpected appearance of so prodigious a force, and still
more to physical accidents, the grand enterprise of the allies
miscarried. The battle of Dresden terminated to their disadvantage, but
their primary object was attained. Napoleon's force was divided into
three great armies. Should any of them sustain a defeat, all Saxony to
the right of the Elbe would be lost to him. The engagements of Jauer,
Grossbeeren, and Dennewitz, proved disastrous to the French generals,
and Lusatia and the right bank of the Elbe were soon in the hands of the
allies. All the attempts to penetrate to Prague and Berlin ended in the
discomfiture and annihilation of whole French corps. Oudinot, Ney,
Regnier, Bertrand, and the terrible Vandamme, were in succession so
totally defeated, that it was not possible even for the French
reporters, with all their address, to cloak their disasters. The allies
every where acted offensively. Saxony, surrounded by Silesia, Bohemia,
and Brandenburg, was now, from its situation, likely to become, earlier
or later, the grave of the French armies: the allies had every where the
choice of their operations; they were neither to be turned nor broken
through. It was evident that the long and obstinate continuance of
Napoleon at Dresden could not fail to prove ruinous to him. Of what
service could the Elbe be to him, when Bohemia, the key to that river,
was in the hands of his opponents? These had it in their power to turn
his flank as far as the Saale, without hazard or any great impediment,
as the event actually proved. Napoleon was cooped up in a narrow space,
where in time, even without being defeated, he would have been in danger
of starving with his army. Dresden was to him, in some respects, what
Wilna had been in 1812. Leipzig, an open place, was now of far greater
importance to him than Minsk was then. How easily might he have lost it,
as the allies were advancing in considerable force upon that place! It
was not lost, to be sure; but the communication between Dresden and
Leipzig, and Leipzig and Erfurt, was, if not cut off, at least
interrupted; his supplies became more and more precarious, and a large
garrison, which it was deemed necessary to reinforce with strong
detachments from the main army, was locked up in Leipzig.
When in August Austria declared herself decidedly in favour of Russia
and Prussia, it was natural to expect that Napoleon would have totally
relinquished the useless defence of Saxony, and have adopted a new plan
of operations, in order to cover and preserve the other states of the
confederation of the Rhine. That he would infallibly be compelled to
evacuate Saxony, was evident from the slightest inspection of the map.
In this beautiful province he could expect no other glory than that of
plunging it, by his inflexible obstinacy, into the most abject misery.
The combined monarchs had nothing to fear for their own dominions; they
needed to do no more than to carry on for some time a mere war of
observation, and to recruit their forces. They might quietly await the
moment when Napoleon should leave Dresden, and, on his arrival, force
him to a general engagement in any situation which they should deem most
advantageous. Too late did Napoleon resolve upon retreat. He was obliged
to commence it in the midst of an immense quadrangle which the allies
formed about him, and to direct his course towards Leipzig. He could
not, however, yet determine to give up Dresden, but left there a
considerable army, thus weakening himself, and sacrificing it, as well
as the garrisons of the fortresses on the Elbe and Oder, to no purpose
whatever, in case he should lose a battle. At length, near Leipzig, he
was forced, into the arduous conflict. Since the latter half of August,
the talents which he had heretofore displayed for comprehensive and
profound combinations seemed to have totally deserted him. All his
measures and plans appeared imperfect, and betrayed a vacillation which
he had never yet manifested. He seems to have been as uncertain
respecting the strength of his antagonists as in regard to their grand
plan of deciding the fate of the campaign with a single blow.
In the battle of Leipzig we perceive none of that forethought which
characterizes his other engagements. The possibility of losing it seems
never to have entered into his calculations; otherwise he would scarcely
have endeavoured to prevail upon the king of Saxony to repair to Leipzig
to witness his defeat. In the most favourable event he had a right to
anticipate no other result than an unmolested retreat: the allies
however, were producing a very different one from what he expected. Of
this he might have convinced himself so early as the 16th, when he
encountered the strongest resistance at all points which he had probably
deemed the weakest. From that day all his measures were calculated only
for the moment. He boasted of victory when the battle was scarcely
begun. He every where strove to check the impetuous advance of his foes
at the expense of those means which were so necessary for his own
retreat. It could not be difficult for Napoleon to foresee, on the 16th,
that, in case he should be defeated, he had no other route left than to
retreat westward, in the direction of Luetzen and Merseburg. He
nevertheless caused all the bridges over the numerous muddy streams on
that side to be destroyed, instead of diligently providing temporary
ones in addition. He was acquainted with the situation of the city,
through the centre of which he would be obliged to pass. He knew the
position of his army, which might, indeed, enter it by three spacious
roads, from north, east, and south; but had only one outlet, and this
the very narrowest of all, for itself and its train, many miles in
length. Let the reader figure to himself a routed army, and that a
French army, in which all order is so easily lost, converging in three
columns to one common centre. The passage at the outermost gate towards
Luetzen is so narrow as to admit only one single waggon at a time. When
we consider that at the Kuhthurm again the road is but just wide enough
for one carriage; that, on the west side of the city, the Elster, the
Pleisse, and their different branches, intersect with their thousand
meanders the marshy plains covered with wood, which are scarcely
passable for the pedestrian; when we farther consider the incessant
stoppages of the whole train at every little obstacle, and figure to
ourselves all the three columns united in a road, the two principal
passes of which are scarcely 30 feet in breadth; we shall rather be
astonished that the whole French army was not annihilated than surprised
at the prodigious quantity of waggons and artillery which it was obliged
to abandon. Even in the night between the 18th and 19th, when Napoleon
must have been perfectly aware of his situation, there would still have
been time to throw bridges across the different streams, so that the
army might have marched in five or six columns to Lindenau, and been
again collected at this place, from which several convenient roads
branch off. Such dispositions as circumstances required might then have
been made, and the retreat might have been effected with inconsiderable
loss. Such a precaution was the more necessary, as he could not be
ignorant that Bluecher's troops had already gained a march upon him, and
was waiting for him at the Saale. Thus the want of a few paltry wooden
bridges proved as ruinous to the French army as the battle itself. It
lost, solely because it was unprovided with them, great part of its yet
remaining artillery, several thousands of dead, who were mostly drowned,
and a great number of prisoners. It was evident that such a retreat,
conducted without order and without plan, was likely to be attended with
the total destruction of the remnant of the army before it could reach
the Rhine. By the actions on the Unstrut and Saale, at Eisenach and
Hanau, this force was actually so reduced, that, on its arrival at the
Rhine, it must probably have entirely lost its military consequence. How
infinitely inferior is Napoleon in this branch of the military art to
the immortal Moreau, to whom he would have owed everlasting obligations,
had he, at his glorious death, bequeathed to him the transcendent art of
converting retreats into victories!
In regard to boldness, Napoleon certainly belongs to the generals of the
first rank. He has undertaken and executed the rashest enterprises. But,
if the true hero shines with the greatest lustre in misfortune, like
Hannibal and Frederic the Great, Napoleon must be classed far below
them. He abandoned his army in Russia when it had most need of his
assistance; and the reason assigned for this desertion--that
circumstances rendered his presence necessary in France--is by no means
satisfactory to the rigid inquirer. During the seven-years' war, the
more dangerous the situation of the Prussian army, the more Frederic
felt himself bound to continue with it, and to assist it with his
eminent military genius. The campaign of 1813 has clearly proved that
the secret of Napoleon's most decisive victories has consisted in the
art of assailing his opponents with a superior force. Napoleon would be
incapable of attacking with 30,000 men an army of 90,000, posted in an
advantageous position, and defeating it, as Frederic did at Leuthen.
Napoleon, like the Prussian monarch, attempted to penetrate into
Bohemia, a country so dangerous for an army; but what a wretched
business did he make of it, in comparison with the latter! Frederic
waged war that he might conquer peace; Napoleon never wished for peace,
often as he has made a show of desiring it. Frederic knew how to stop
his victorious career in time, for History had taught him that it is as
difficult to retain as to acquire glory. Napoleon imagined that his fame
was susceptible of increase alone, and lost it all in the fields of
Leipzig. The hardly-earned laurels of France faded along with it. With
what feelings must he direct his views beyond the Rhine, where the eyes
of so many thousands are now opened? He too has lived to witness days
which are far from agreeable to him. He, who represented it to the
countries which he forced into his alliance as a supreme felicity to
have their sons led forth to fight foreign battles, and to have many
thousands of them sacrificed every year upon the altar of his ambition,
now sees them all abandon him, and become his bitterest enemies. The
_Great Empire_ is now an idle dream. Already is he nearly confined
within that ancient France, which has lost through him the flower of her
population. Long has discontent lurked there in every bosom; long have
her people beheld with indignation their youth driven across the Rhine,
into foreign lands, where they were swept away by cold, famine, and the
sword, so that few of them revisited their paternal homes. Will the
nation again be ready to bathe foreign plains with the blood of half a
million of fresh victims? Scarcely can it be so infatuated. The French
too are now roused from their torpor: like the Germans, they will
confine their exertions to the defence of their own frontiers against
those mighty armies of Europe, which, crowned with laurels, wield the
sword in one hand, and bear the olive of peace in the other.