With the bicentenary of Waterloo, has come the question, was Napoleon a better military strategist than the somewhat snooty Wellington?

It’s debatable. Certainly in the Italian Campaign of the late 1790s, he demonstrated, with speed and surprise, his ability to out manoeuvre the staid elderly generals of the Austrian ‘Ancien Regime’.

Then, however, as First Consul, came Marengo, in 1800, where he met a more redoubtable foe in Melas.

By his uninspired frontal attack, which was constantly repulsed by a staunch Austrian defence, Napoleon was in danger of losing the battle, but for the timely intervention of a cavalry charge led by Desaix, which effectively outflanked the enemy.

Unfortunately, Desaix lost his life, but in tribute thereafter Napoleon wore the dead man’s coat.

Austerlitz, in 1805, is cited as his most prestigious triumph. In the mists of December, he placed a token force to guard the road to Vienna, below the heights of Pratzen.

The Austrian/Russian coalition encamped on the other side of the heights, blindly thinking this was Bonaparte’s main force, attacked it, thus depleting their own centre.

A cavalry charge over the heights resulted in the hapless Austrians and Russians fighting on two fronts and inevitable defeat. Notwithstanding this, Tolstoy, in his dialectic novel, ‘War and Peace’, peevishly depicted Napoleon as a poser and chancer; no doubt partly coloured by the fact a relative of Tolstoy’s had served on the losing side.

Jena/Anerstedt, 1806 constituted rather uninspired frontal assaults on the Prussians, with Davout, rather than his leader Bonaparte winning the plaudits.

Borodino 1812 and Waterloo 1815 are also characterised as bloody frontal slogs, which resulted in thousands of casualties. A push by the Imperial Guard might have won a pyrrhic victory over Wellington at Waterloo, but for the timely intervention of Blücher and his cavalry. A curious mirror image reversal of what had happened at Marengo, 16 years before, albeit on a more massive and devastating scale.

Was Napoleon, an artillery officer, whose mathematical exactitude in ballistics could devastate a foe, also the supreme strategist, or just a chancer who liked to play ‘Deal or No Deal’ with the crown princes of Europe?

I suppose, in large measure, it depends on what side of the English Channel or La Manche you are standing on.

OBSERVER, Cowdenbeath.