London, March 17. Now that the pamphlet of Jerome Bonaparte 
(junior)* has revealed the fact that the Crimean expedition was an 
invention of Louis Napoleon himself, that he had worked it out in 
every detail without consulting others, that he had sent it to 
Constantinople in his own handwriting in order to avoid the 
objections of Marshal Vaillant—since all this has become known, a 
large proportion of the most flagrant military blunders of this 
expedition is explained by the dynastic needs of its author. In the 
war council at Varna it had to be forced upon the generals and 
admirals present by S{ain]t-Arnaud’s direct appeal to the authority 
of the “Emperor”, who, in turn, publicly branded the opposing 
views as “timid counsel’. Once in the Crimea, Raglan’s really 
“timid counsel” —to march to Balaklava—was eagerly adopted by 
St.-Arnaud, as it led, although not directly into Sevastopol, at 
least close to its gates. The frantic efforts to push the siege ahead, 
though without sufficient means; the eagerness to open fire which 
made the French neglect the solidity of their works to such a 
degree that their batteries were silenced by the enemy in a couple 
of hours; the over-exertion of the troops in the communication 
trenches which is now proved to have contributed as much 
towards the destruction of the British army as did the Commis- 
sariat, the Transport Service, the Medical Department, etc.; the 
rash and useless cannonade from October 17 to November 5; the 
neglect of all defensive works—all this has been sufficiently 
explained. The Bonaparte dynasty required the capture of 
Sevastopol, and in the shortest time; and the allied army was to 

* De la conduite de la guerre d’Orient....—Ed. 

Criticism of the French Conduct of the War 9] 

carry it out. Canrobert, if successful, would be made Marshal of 
France, Count, Duke, Prince—whatever he desired, with un- 
limited powers in financial matters. [If unsuccessful, his career was at 
an end. Raglan was enough of an old woman to give way to the 
self-interests of his colleague. 

These, however, are not the most important consequences of the 
imperatorial plan of operation. Nine French divisions or 81 
battalions have been engaged in this hopeless affair. It is 
recognised to be almost hopeless; the greatest efforts, the most 
lavish sacrifices have accomplished nothing; Sevastopol is stronger 
than ever; the French trenches, as we now know from an 
authentic source, are still fully four hundred yards from the 
Russian works, while the British trenches are twice as far away. 
General Niel, sent by Bonaparte to inspect the siege works, has 
declared that an assault is not to be thought of; he has shifted the 
principal point of attack from the French to the British side, 
thereby causing not only a delay in the siege, but directing the 
main attack toward a suburb which, even if taken, is still separated 
from the town by the inner harbour. In short, there is plan after 
plan, dodge after dodge, to keep up, not the hope of success, but 
the mere semblance of such a hope. And when things have come 
to this pass, when a general war on the continent is imminent, 
when a new expedition to the Baltic is being prepared—an 
expedition which, this time, must do. something and therefore 
must dispose of far more landing troops than in 1854—at this 
moment Bonaparte is sending five fresh infantry divisions to the 
Crimean swamp where men vanish and regiments disappear a8 if 
by magic. Indeed, he is determined to go there himself, and go 
there he will, unless an improbable peace or significant events at 
the Polish border decide otherwise. That is the situation to which 
Bonaparte’s first strategic experiment has reduced Bonaparte and 
“imperial” France. What drives him is not only obstinacy, but the 
fatalistic instinct that the destiny of the French empire will be 
decided in the trenches at Sevastopol. Up to now, there has been no 
Marengo to justify the second edition of the 18th Brumaire.” 

It may be regarded as historical irony that, however meticulous- 
ly the restored empire copies its model, it is forced everywhere to 
do the opposite of what Napoleon did. Napoleon attacked the very 
heart of the states on which he made war; present-day France has 
attacked Russia in a cul-de-sac. It did not aim at great military 
operations, but at a fortunate coup de main, a surprise attack, an 
adventure. In this change of purpose lies the whole difference 
between the first and the second French empire and _ their 

respective representatives. Napoleon used to enter the capitals of 
modern Europe as conqueror. His successor moved French 
garrisons into the capitals of ancient Europe, Rome, Constan- 
tinople and Athens under various pretexts—the protection of the 
Pope, the protection of the Sultan, the protection of the King of 
the Hellenes*—in fact, there has been no increase in power, but 
merely a dispersal of strength. Napoleon’s art consisted in 
concentration, that of his successor in dispersal. When Napoleon 
was obliged to conduct a war in two different theatres, as in his 
wars against Austria, he concentrated by far the greater part of his 
fighting force along the decisive line of operation (in the wars with 
Austria this was the line between Strasbourg and Vienna), while 
leaving a comparatively minor fighting force in the secondary 
theatre of war (Italy), confident that, even if his troops should be 
defeated here, his own successes along the principal line would 
hinder the progress of the enemy army more certainly than any 
direct resistance. His successor, however, scatters the fighting force 
of France over many areas, concentrating a part in the very place 
where the least significant results—if any—must be achieved with 
the greatest sacrifices. Besides the troops in Rome, Athens, 
Constantinople and the Crimea, an auxiliary force is to be 
despatched to the Polish border in Austria, and another to the 
Baltic Sea. Thus the French army must be active in at least three 
theatres of war, separated from each other by at least a thousand 
miles. By this plan, the entire French fighting force would be as 
good as disposed of even before the war had seriously begun in 
Europe. Napoleon, if he found that an undertaking he had begun 
was not feasible (as at Aspern), would rather than persist in it, find 
some new turn, lead his troops in a surprise move to a fresh point 
of attack, and, by a brillant manoeuvre crowned with success, 
make even temporary defeat appear to be but a contribution to 
fina) victory. It was only at the time of his decline, after 1812 had 
shaken his self-confidence, that the energy of his will turned into 
blind obstinacy which made him hold on to positions (as at 
Leipzig) which his military judgment must have rejected. His 
successor, however, is forced to begin where his predecessor ended. 
What with one was the result of unaccountable defeats, was the 
result of unaccountable good fortune with the other. For one his 
own genius became the star in which he believed; for the other, 
his belief in his star has to serve as a substitute for his lack of 
genius. One defeated a real revolution, because he was the only 

* Pope Pius IX, Sultan Abdul Mejid and King Otto I.— Ed. 

Criticism of the French Conduct of the War 93 

man to carry it through; the other defeated the newly revived 
recollection of a past revolutionary epoch, because he bore that 
unique man’s name, and hence was himself a recollection. It would 
be easy to demonstrate that the pretentious mediocrity with which 
the Second Empire is conducting this war is reflected in its internal 
administration, that here, too, semblance has taken the place of 
essence, and that the “economic” campaigns were in no way more 
successful than the military ones.