in a report on that
evening; but it has been lost.[482] Judging from the orders issued by
Napoleon and Soult early on the 16th, there was much uncertainty as to
Ney's position. The Emperor's letter bids him post his first division
"two leagues in front of les Quatres Chemins"; but Soult's letter to
Grouchy states that Ney is ordered _to advance to the cross-roads_.
Confusion was to be expected from the circumstances of the case. Ney
did not know his staff-officers, and he hastily took command of the
left wing when in the midst of operations whose success, as Janin
points out, largely depended on that of the right. He therefore played
a cautious game, when, as we now know, caution meant failure and
daring spelt safety.

Meanwhile the French right wing, of which Grouchy had received the
command, though Napoleon in person was its moving force, had been
pressing the Prussians hard near Gilly. Yet here, too, the assailants
were weakened by the absence of the corps of Vandamme and Gerard.
Irritated by Ziethen's skilful withdrawal, the Emperor at last
launched his cavalry at the Prussian rear battalions, four of which
were severely handled before they reached the covert of a wood. With
the loss, on the whole, of nearly 2,000 men, the Prussians fell back
towards Ligny, while Grouchy's vanguard bivouacked near the village of
Fleurus.

Napoleon might well be satisfied with the work done on June 15th: he
rode back to his headquarters at Charleroi, "exhausted with fatigue,"
after spending wellnigh eighteen hours in the saddle, but confident
that he had sundered the allies. This was certainly his aim now, as it
had been in the campaign of 1796. After two decisive blows at their
points of connection, he purposed driving them on divergent lines of
retreat, just as he had driven the Austrians and Sardinians down the
roads that bifurcate near Montenotte. True, there were in Belgium no
mountain spurs to prevent their reunion; but the roads on which they
were operating were far more widely divergent.[483] He also thought
lightly of Wellington and Bluecher. The former he had pronounced
"incapable and unwise"; as for Bluecher, he told Campbell at Elba that
he was "no general"; but that he admired the pluck with which "the old
devil" came on again after a thrashing.

Unclouded confidence is seen in every phrase of the letters that he
penned at Charleroi early on the 16th. He informs Ney that he intends
soon to attack the Prussians at So