There was also, had he only known it, a magnificent opportunity before him on this morning of the 17th. For, owing to the carelessness of the Prussian staff, Wellington had not been promptly informed of the result of the battle of Ligny, and he was still at Quatre Bras, only six miles from Brye, where he could be assailed in front and flank. He had not yet succeeded in collecting his entire army. It was perfectly practicable to attack him in this condition before the Prussians could possibly reorganize their beaten forces, and come to his assistance. For such an attack Napoleon had ample means, and of the best quality, as we have just seen. Ney’s movements could easily be coördinated with his own; Ney could attack the English in front, while the Emperor brought up the 6th Corps and the Guard over the Namur-Quatre-Bras turnpike directly upon their flank. The march from Brye could be begun at sunrise,—at 4 A.M.; Quatre Bras could be reached before 7 o’clock. Had Napoleon, then, acted with energy in accordance with his own plan, he would have stood a very good chance of crushing this portion of Wellington’s army,—so far from its ally, so open to attack.[449] But, apart from this, this was not one of those cases where time is required to come to a decision; nothing was risked by marching against the English at once. And, as it happened, fortune had put in Napoleon’s way the opportunity of striking a decisive blow. Napoleon allowed this opportunity to escape him. Up to this moment we have seen him as active, as sagacious, as energetic as ever. But it would certainly seem that on this morning of the 17th he was not up to the mark. He probably was greatly fatigued, and we need not wonder at it. From half-past three on the morning of the 12th, when he left Paris, to eleven o’clock at night of the 16th, when, having fought and won the battle of Ligny, he sought rest at Fleurus, he had been subjected to a tremendous strain. Neither Wellington nor Blücher had had anything like it. He had been on the move and at work, night and day. He had had to decide at the moment the most important questions, he had had to take the gravest responsibilities. There was a natural reaction. The Emperor yielded to the sense of fatigue. He put off the execution of the next part of his plan. He moreover neglected to ascertain the facts of the situation, and hence was unaware, until too late, of the great opportunity then presented to him. General Jomini considerately remarks:—[450] “Undoubtedly the Emperor had powerful motives for resigning himself to such inactivity; but these motives have never reached us.”