Some one having asked the Emperor which was the greatest battle that he had fought, he replied it was difficult to answer that question without inquiring what was implied by the greatest battle.  “Mine,” continued he, “cannot be judged of separately:  they formed a portion of extensive plans.  They must therefore be estimated by their consequences.  The battle of Marengo, which was so long undecided, procured for us the command of all Italy.  Ulm annihilated a whole army; Jena laid the whole Prussian monarchy at our feet; Friedland opened the Russian empire to us; and Eckmuhl decided the fate of a war.  The battle of the Moskwa was that in which the greatest talent was displayed, and by which we obtained the fewest advantages.  Waterloo, where everything failed, would, had victory crowned our efforts, have saved France and given peace to Europe.”

Madame Montholon having inquired what troops he considered the best, “Those which are victorious, madam,” replied the Emperor.  “But,” added he, “soldiers are capricious and inconstant, like you ladies.  The best troops were the Carthaginians under Hannibal, the Romans under the Scipios, the Macedonians under Alexander, and the Prussians under Frederick.”  He thought, however, that the French soldiers were of all others those which could most easily be rendered the best, and preserved so.  With my complete guard of 40,000 or 50,000 men I would have undertaken to march through Europe.  It is perhaps possible to produce troops as good as those that composed my army of Italy and Austerlitz, but certainly none can ever surpass them.”

The anniversary of the battle of Waterloo produced a visible impression on the Emperor.  “Incomprehensible day!” said he, dejectedly; “concurrence of unheard-of fatalities!  Grouchy, Ney, D’Erlon—­was there treachery or was it merely misfortune?  Alas! poor France!” Here he covered his eyes with his hands.  “And yet,” said he, “all that human skill could do was accomplished!  All was not lost until the moment when all had succeeded.”  A short time afterwards, resuming the subject, he exclaimed, “In that extraordinary campaign, thrice, in less than a week, I saw the certain triumph of France slip through my fingers.  Had it not been for a traitor I should have annihilated the enemy at the outset of the campaign.  I should have destroyed him at Ligny if my left wing had only done its duty.  I should have destroyed him again at Waterloo if my right had seconded me.  Singular defeat, by which, notwithstanding the most fatal catastrophe, the glory of the conquered has not suffered.”

We shall here give Napoleon’s own opinion of the battle of Waterloo.  “The plan of the battle,” said he, “will not in the eyes of the historian reflect any credit on Lord Wellington as a general.  In the first place, he ought not to have given battle with the armies divided.  They ought to have been united and encamped before the 15th.  In the next, the choice of ground was