Fighting the Prussians and the Russians
Teaching the Austrians a lesson (again!)
A fter winning the Battle of Austerlitz in Austria in December 1805 (see Chapter 9), Napoleon returned to Paris in late January 1806, once again a national hero. He had just defeated all but one of France’s enemies — that would be England, of course — and peace and prosperity seemed possible. In this chapter, I discuss what happened to foil hopes for peace and how Napoleon gained control of much of Europe.
Napoleon took quick action to try to secure peace in Europe. For example,
He granted some new territory to Prussia in exchange for her continued neutrality.
Napoleon sought to secure his position through the establishment of blood ties:
• He arranged the marriage of his stepson, Eugène de Beauharnais, to Princess Amelia Augusta, the daughter of the King of Bavaria, a key kingdom in the area. Bavaria had refused to join the Third Coalition against France and had been invaded by Austria. Bavaria had provided some 25,000 soldiers in support of the French in 1805, and she was now reaping her rewards.
• He installed his brother, Joseph, as the King of Naples, ousting the pro-British King Ferdinand IV and Queen Caroline. Joseph became known as a progressive, reform-oriented monarch (see Figure 10-1). As he did with all his conquests in Italy, as well as the rest of Europe, Napoleon gave people new rights and reforms, and he eliminated repressive regimes and feudalistic social and political systems.
• He installed his brother, Louis, as King of Holland.
Even England seemed a possible partner in peace. The strongly anti-French prime minister, William Pitt, had died in 1806. (Many people believe that news of Napoleon’s victory at the Battle of Austerlitz led directly to Pitt’s demise.) In his place was Lord William Grenville, who, along with Foreign Minister Sir Charles James Fox, wanted peace with France. France and England opened negotiations, but they eventually failed, especially after Fox died later in the year. A new British government soon took over, dashing those short-lived hopes for peace.
Figure 10-1: This German engraving from the period shows Napoleon’s brother, Joseph, as the King of Naples and Sicily. |
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Prussian King William III was not one of Europe’s brightest lights. Napoleon had given Prussia some territory, but even so, Prussia was suspicious and concerned regarding French intentions in Germany. The Confederation of the Rhine was seen as a threat, as was the stationing of large French armies near the Prussian border. Napoleon did what he could to establish good relations — he much preferred diplomacy to war — but he was dealing with a king easily swayed by members of his court, who were anxious to go to war with Napoleon.
Chief among the proponents of war was the king’s wife, Queen Louise. She headed what could be called the war party in the Prussian court, and she never missed a chance to promote her cause. Her husband, weak and vacillating man that he was, was no match for her determination. Aware that England and Russia were forming a Fourth Coalition, King William tried to use that fact to his advantage. With Russian support, he demanded that French troops evacuate all of Germany. The evacuation had been likely prior to King William’s demand, but after it, the French troops were there to stay.
The 36-year-old king needed a reality check:
The Prussian army was large, but it was unbelievably old-fashioned and incapable of fighting a modern Napoleonic war; it was poorly organized, slow, and lacking leadership.
The Prussians would be fighting a French army that had just swept the field, led by a man who was remaking the face of warfare.
Ah, but the Prussians had Russian support and English money and promises. Mind you, this was support from the same Russian army that had just been humiliated by the French, and the same English money and promises that had been less than effective at Austerlitz. And at Austerlitz, the Third Coalition allies had Austria, which was now allied to France. It was a fool’s errand for the Prussian army to take on France, but the kingdom’s leaders were determined to play it out. Had they joined the allies at Austerlitz, perhaps they could have made a real difference. Now, they were just committing suicide.
Apparently determined to hand their collective heads to Napoleon on a platter, the Prussians ignored the obvious need to wait for their Russian allies to join them before engaging the French. In August 1806, the Prussian army advanced toward the French armies that were mobilizing to meet it. Much like Austrian General Mack at Ülm (see Chapter 9), the Prussians advanced too far, too fast, and found themselves isolated. Worse yet, they were also divided, with one part of their army facing Napoleon at Jena, Germany and another facing Marshal Louis Davout at Auerstädt.
On October 14, 1806, Napoleon thought he was facing the entire Prussian army, but he was really facing only a small force of 38,000 men led by General Friedrich Hohenlohe. Napoleon had in excess of 90,000 men, but Hohenlohe thought he was facing a much smaller French force.
As had happened at Austerlitz, when a morning fog lifted at Jena, Hohenlohe discovered the true situation, but it was too late. He quickly called for reinforcements, which never came, and he did what he could to withstand the French advance. By 3 p.m., his men were retreating, and Marshal Joachim Murat’s spirited cavalry pursuit turned the Prussian defeat into a rout. Total French losses were around 5,000 at Jena, compared with Prussian losses of over 25,000.
Napoleon was understandably elated, but he soon learned that he had not faced the main Prussian army after all. That army, commanded by King William, was facing Marshal Davout at Auerstädt. Prussian forces numbered 63,000 while Davout had only 27,000, but the result was the same: a complete French victory. Davout’s triumph over such overwhelming odds entered him into the ranks of Napoleon’s finest marshals. (In contrast, Marshal Jean Bernadotte ignored Napoleon’s orders to move in support of Davout, which was an outrage and a sign of problems to come.)
Napoleon followed France’s twin victories at Jena and Auerstädt by marching on the capital city of Berlin, stopping along the way to visit the tomb of Frederick the Great at Potsdam. Napoleon entered Berlin on October 27th and took possession of an immense arsenal. Meanwhile, an unchastened (and foolish) King William fled to Königsberg (modern-day Kaliningrad in Russia) to await Russian reinforcements.
While in Berlin in 1806, Napoleon issued orders that France, its territories, and its allies were prohibited from trading with Great Britain. The British had tried to starve France economically by sinking her merchant ships; now France would play the economic warfare game with new rules. These sanctions would become known as the Continental System and would have decidedly mixed results for Napoleon. (See Chapter 21 for more on the Continental System.)
Notwithstanding the French success against Prussia, to say nothing of French success against the Russians at Austerlitz a year earlier, Russian forces led by General Levin Bennigsen continued to move west to confront the French. Napoleon’s forces were tired and definitely deserved a break, but the Russians were determined to force what Bennigsen thought was his advantage.
Napoleon, never one to sit back and wait for his enemy to force a fight on its terms, moved into Poland, taking Warsaw and moving north. After some inconclusive skirmishes, including the Battle of Pultusk on December 26, 1806, the two forces met at the town of Eylau, sometimes called Prussian-Eylau. (Eylau is now the town of Bagrationovsk in Russia, named for the Russian general Peter Bagration.)
It would be hard to imagine worse fighting conditions than those faced by the French and Russians during the two-day Battle of Eylau on February 7–8, 1807. It was bitter cold and snowing heavily much of the time. Bennigsen had some 67,000 men to Napoleon’s 45,000, but Napoleon could count on at least some reinforcements in short order.
On the first day of the battle, the two sides fought for control of the city. The fighting was desperate, and it was often difficult to see what was going on. By evening, however, the French had captured the city. That was important to Napoleon but perhaps even more so to his soldiers, who now had decent shelter from the bitter night to follow.
The next day saw more of the same bitter fighting for control of the city. While a blizzard howled about them, soldiers fought, often hand-to-hand, for control of small pieces of land. Napoleon’s headquarters were in a church, and at one point his personal guard was surprised by a substantial Russian force that was nearly able to capture Napoleon himself! The Russians, not fully realizing their opportunity, didn’t push their advantage and were eventually driven away. Even so, it was a close call.
As the day wore on, the Russians appeared to be gaining the upper hand. Their reinforcements were arriving before the French reinforcements, and the French situation looked alarming. A massive cavalry attack led by Marshal Murat at least temporarily devastated the Russian center, and Marshal Davout pushed back the Russian left. But evening fell before either side could gain advantage, and overnight Bennigsen withdrew to the east. Napoleon held the field and could thus claim the victory, but it was an indecisive bloodbath, with both sides losing perhaps as many as 25,000. Neither side was in any condition to keep fighting, and each retired to winter quarters.
As part of their approach, they used a secret weapon named Marie Walewska. This 20-year-old ravishing beauty was married to wealthy 71-year-old Count Anastase Walewski. Polish patriots, including her husband, persuaded her that she should do whatever was necessary to convince Napoleon to support their cause. Napoleon, who was lonely and not necessarily ill-disposed toward warm female companionship on cold Polish winter nights, was quite taken by young Marie — and her Polish cause.
They were soon sharing a bed, and the relationship blossomed. Napoleon fell quite in love with Marie, and the feeling was mutual. When Napoleon was apart from her, he wrote her letters that were every bit as passionate as those he wrote to Josephine. (Speaking of Josephine, she eventually became aware of Marie’s existence, but there was little she could do about the relationship.)
After the Battle of Eylau, Napoleon moved his headquarters in Poland to the castle at Osteröde and then to the mansion called Finkenstein, where he spent more than two months. Marie joined him there, and together they spent what for Napoleon were some of the happiest times of his life.
Though the lovers would part company when Napoleon left to continue his campaign against the Russians, they would meet again several times over the coming years. Marie joined him in Paris and, in 1809, for several weeks in Vienna. That visit provided the lovers more than just the great pleasure of their mutual company, as Marie became pregnant with Napoleon’s child. In May 1810, she gave birth to Alexandre Florian Joseph Walewski. He was an illegitimate son, but when Napoleon’s nephew became the Emperor of France many years later, Alexander was given the post of foreign minister. Alexander’s descendents are today the only living direct descendents of Napoleon.
The birth of Napoleon’s son proved that the lack of children with Josephine was not Napoleon’s fault. As I discuss in Chapter 20, the lack of an heir to the throne eventually led Napoleon to divorce Josephine. The romantic in Napoleon may have led him to marry Marie, but the politician led him to other choices. Even so, Marie remained loyal to Napoleon, even visiting him in exile on Elba (see Chapter 14).
Napoleon and Marie Walewska spent a little over two months in the mansion of Finkenstein, also sometimes known as Kamieniec-Finkenstein for the region of Poland in which it is found. This magnificent structure was built in 1706 by one of the richest men in the area, who made his living providing agricultural products to the army and the government. The mansion became a social center for 200 years, with Napoleon and Marie being its most famous visitors.
Its most infamous visitor was Adolf Hitler, who stayed there briefly during World War II, using the same room occupied by Napoleon. That room was known as the Yellow Room and was, not surprisingly, the best in the building. Hitler’s dog is buried on the grounds, and visitors still come today to see the grave.
Because Hitler had stayed there, the Germans didn’t destroy the mansion when they retreated from Poland. The Russians, however, were determined to destroy all traces of German heritage in the area. One story says that Russian soldiers got drunk and set fire to the place, but there was a great deal of looting and some locals still have certain artifacts, such as knives, from its glory days.
The mansion is now in ruins, but a new foundation has been established to raise funds for its restoration. This foundation is known as the Kamieniec–Finkenstein–Napoleon I in Poland and Central Europe and was formed by the Pultusk School of the Humanities, the Napoleon Foundation in Paris, and the company GERO, which owns the facility. My wife, Barbara, and I were pleased to give the first financial contribution to this foundation, and we hope that one day the mansion will be restored to its former grandeur. (The figure shows how it looks today. Napoleon’s room is on the second story in the right hand corner.)
In May 1807, the Russian commander Bennigsen reopened the campaign to drive Napoleon out of Germany. No one knows why he was so sure of success, but away he went. He was seriously outnumbered: Around 220,000 French soldiers would face just under 120,000 Russians. The Prussian city of Danzig (modern-day Gdansk in Poland) had been put under siege by Napoleon, and the Russians sought to send reinforcements to drive the French away. Instead, Danzig capitulated, giving the French a virtual treasure trove of supplies.
The Russians were stymied in their effort to relieve Danzig and began to withdraw to the east, taking up positions at the fortified city of Heilsberg in eastern Prussia. There, on June 10, 1807, the two forces fought to more or less a draw that ended with the withdrawal of the Russians and the taking of the city by the French. Like Eylau, this was a victory in name only, but it set the stage for one of Napoleon’s most decisive victories. Bennigsen withdrew to his base camp near the east Prussian town of Friedland (now in Russia, only a short drive from Eylau) on the left bank of the Alle River.
When Napoleon approached the town of Friedland, he did not have all his forces with him. Still, the French slightly outnumbered the Russians, and Napoleon was determined to crush them if at all possible. This determination increased when he decided that the Russian position was weak and dangerous, as the Russians had their backs to the river and were not otherwise well-positioned.
The Russians struck first, attacking Marshal Jean Lannes’s force with their own much larger force. But Lannes held out on the evening of June 13th and again early in the morning of the 14th.
When Napoleon arrived on the scene at noon, he could have played it conservatively and waited for all his reinforcements to arrive, but he feared that he might lose his opportunity. He began his attack on June 14th at 5:30 p.m.
Figure 10-2: This engraving, based on the famous painting by Messionier, shows one of the great cavalry charges at Friedland. |
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Most of this action was on the Russian left and center. The devastation would have been complete, but hesitation on the French left flank (the Russian right), hallmarked by General Emanuel Grouchy’s failure to press his advantage with what could have been a wildly successful cavalry charge, allowed Bennigsen and much of his army to escape across the river. Napoleon did sent cavalry in pursuit, and by 11 p.m. the battle was over. The scene throughout the town was as ghastly as anyone could imagine. The battle cost the French 10,000 men, but the Russians lost at least twice that many and were on the run. They may not have completely realized it at the time, but Bennigsen’s army was spent.
News of the Friedland victory spread quickly. The Russians evacuated Königsberg, giving the French access to a huge collection of supplies. The main Russian army fled to Tilsit in eastern Prussia, near the Niemen River, where Tsar Alexander was staying. When Murat’s cavalry arrived on the scene, the tsar had had enough and sent word to Napoleon that he would like a personal meeting to arrange peace. Napoleon was delighted and quickly agreed. If he could win a peace, maybe even get Alexander as an ally, he would be sitting pretty. Perhaps even the British would have to settle.
Prussia, meanwhile, was quite apprehensive of its future, to say the least. Queen Louisa had visited Napoleon the day before he met the tsar, pleading her case. (She was the one who had practically pushed her husband into war with Napoleon.) Napoleon remembered well what she had done, and she met with no success. A young woman of great beauty, perhaps she thought she could replicate Marie Walewska’s use of her charm. She certainly tried, flirting outrageously, but it gained her nothing.
Napoleon had never thought highly of the brash young Russian Tsar Alexander, and Alexander had returned the favor. Still, reality dictated that they meet, which they did on a raft in the middle of the Nieman River on June 25, 1807. They were accompanied by aides but quickly went into private conversation while their respective armies waited on opposite shores, all hoping that the fighting was over.
Perhaps unexpectedly, the two men hit it off quite well. Napoleon could charm anyone, and Alexander was no exception. He quickly came under Napoleon’s spell. Napoleon was also more impressed with Alexander than he had ever expected to be. In short, the two men began what would become a very friendly relationship.
On June 26th, they were joined by King William of Prussia. Not surprisingly, King William did not fare all that well. Some images of that meeting have Napoleon and Alexander hugging while the king stands off to one side (see Figure 10-3). Napoleon treated King William disdainfully, a treatment that would continue in the coming days when the negotiations moved to the city of Tilsit itself.
On July 7th, Russia and France signed an alliance called the Treaty of Tilsit. The big loser was — surprise! — Prussia, which lost an enormous amount of territory. A new kingdom called Westphalia was to be carved out of several Prussian provinces. The new King of Westphalia would be Napoleon’s brother, Jérôme.
The Poles were probably the biggest winners (other than France), for they were granted the Grand Duchy of Warsaw. They were to be under the rule of the King of Saxony and a part of the French Empire, but Napoleon gave them a constitution, and they had more than they would ever have had were it not for Napoleon.
Other than the Grand Duchy of Warsaw, Russia came out quite well. She lost no territory and received the alliance of France and the friendship of Napoleon. Russia agreed to help Napoleon negotiate a peace with England and, if that failed, to join in the Continental System (see Chapter 21) and use the tsar’s influence to get others in as well.
Figure 10-3: This gold snuffbox shows Napoleon embracing Tsar Alexander of Russia while King William of Prussia looks on. |
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Napoleon was at the top of his game. Sure, his army was tired and he had not swept to glorious victory every single time (remember Eylau), but he had not been defeated. Going back to Austerlitz in 1805,
He had consolidated his position in Italy and put brothers on various thrones.
He would soon put his brother Joseph on the throne of Spain and his brother-in-law Joachim Murat on the throne of Naples.
The downside to all this, of course, was the fact that Great Britain refused to make peace. Moreover, some of Napoleon’s allies were not all that excited about their roles in his new empire. Chief among them was Austria, whose emperor had sworn to never again make war on Napoleon. The next great challenge to Napoleon would come from that supposed ally.
By 1808, Austria had become quite restless. Influenced by English money and promises, still unhappy over the loss of territory and of influence in Italy and elsewhere, Emperor Francis began to imagine that he could defeat Napoleon and set himself up as the great savior of Europe.
At the time, Napoleon had much of the cream of his army tied down in Spain (see Chapter 12), and some of Napoleon’s European holdings, especially in Germany, were showing signs of wanting out of his imperial system. Having convinced himself of his glorious role in the liberation of Europe, Emperor Francis joined England in a Fifth Coalition, turned on his French ally, and declared war on France in April 1809.
Austrian forces moved on French forces in Bavaria and achieved initial success, largely due to the element of surprise. Napoleon quickly rushed to the front. On April 20th, the French army defeated the Austrians at the Battle of Abensberg. The French prevailed again the next day at the Battle of Landshut. And the next day, the French were again victorious, this time at the Battle of Eckmühl. The Austrians had thus far lost some 30,000 troops but had been able to retreat in good order. After resting his exhausted troops, Napoleon moved on Vienna, occupying the city on May 13th.
Napoleon moved his army to the large island of Lobau, in the Danube River, and then, on May 20th, sent Marshal André Masséna to occupy the towns of Aspern and Essling on the river’s left bank. The French were shocked to discover that the left bank held a substantial force of 95,000 Austrian troops led by Archduke Charles. Napoleon had only about 24,000 soldiers on the left bank and rushed to get more over as quickly as possible. The river had a very fast current, however, and the Austrians cleverly floated debris down the river, which damaged the bridge and prevented French troops from crossing. (Normally, engineers would have built protective devices to prevent such tactics, but in their haste they had failed to do so this time.)
Napoleon did get the bridge repaired and brought over more soldiers on May 21st, but his momentum was stalled and he was still outnumbered. That afternoon, Charles attacked. The French held their ground, but their advance was stopped. That night, even more French made it over the bridge, and early in the morning the French army regained control of Aspern, lost the day before to the Austrians. Throughout the morning, the French and Austrians clashed with little advantage to either side, but Napoleon’s position was by far the more precarious, with his back to the river and only one bridge for either reinforcements or retreat.
By mid-afternoon, Napoleon could see that there was little to be gained, and much to be lost, from continued conflict. He ordered a withdrawal to Lobau Island. The withdrawal was made in good order and the bridge destroyed. Archduke Charles had succeeded in holding the left bank of the Danube, but Napoleon was in a secure position on an island that he quickly turned into a fortress.
Both sides had suffered heavy casualties, most notable of which was the death of Marshal Lannes. Napoleon had always been especially fond of Lannes, who was not only one of his best military leaders but also a friend. Lannes was also quite popular throughout the army, and his death was mourned by everyone.
And that is exactly what he would do.
Napoleon spent the winter preparing for the great conflict that would come with warm weather. He fortified the island, built well-protected bridges to the right bank of the Danube, and called in reinforcements. By July, he had almost 200,000 soldiers at his disposal. Archduke Charles, meanwhile, had never tried to follow up on his success, being content to simply hold his ground for the winter. Charles had about 155,000 men a few miles from the shores of the Danube, near the town of Wagram, located further north (away from the river) of Aspern and Essling. He was convinced that he had Napoleon boxed in. Not likely.
On the evening of July 4, 1809, the French put ten well-built pontoon bridges across the river, and troops began to stream across. Charles had been convinced that any French effort would be at a different location and was, therefore, quite taken by surprise at this action. The fighting became furious, but French efforts to break the Austrian center failed, as did Austrian efforts to do the same against the French.
The next day brought more of the same. Charles made the first move, soundly defeating the forces led by Marshal Bernadotte, whom Napoleon ordered off the field in disgrace. The French left was soon in serious trouble, but Marshal Masséna saved the day by halting the Austrian advance. Marshal Davout was containing things on the right, and Napoleon launched a massive attack on the Austrian center. (Figure 10-4 shows Napoleon giving orders on the field of battle.) Soon, the Austrian army was split in half, and Charles was forced to order a retreat. French pursuit caught up to him a few days later near the town of Znaim. There, General Auguste Frédéric Louis Marmont, joined by Marshal Masséna, forced Charles to seek an armistice, which the French were happy to grant. It was signed on July 12th. Napoleon was delighted with the performance of his two military commanders and gave Marmont his marshal’s baton the same day the armistice was signed.
Figure 10-4: This painting on the lid of a snuffbox, after the original by Horace Vernet, shows Napoleon at the Battle of Wagram. |
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Wagram was a great victory, but the war was not necessarily over yet. Austria’s ally, England, landed 40,000 soldiers on the island of Walcheren in The Netherlands on July 29th. They achieved some success but were slow to exploit their situation. Marshal Bernadotte soon arrived to take charge of a French counteroffensive. Little French effort was necessary, however, as disease had depleted the British ranks, and they soon withdrew. The whole affair had been a wasted effort, and the effect on British and Austrian morale was predictable.
Emperor Francis finally realized that the Fifth Coalition had failed, and he agreed to the Treaty of Schönbrunn on October 14, 1809. Napoleon was not unduly harsh toward the man who had personally betrayed him. Austria lost some territories, including some given to the Grand Duchy of Warsaw in return for Polish support in the campaign. Austria also had to promise to rejoin the Continental System, reduce the size of her army, and pay a sizable indemnity.
Napoleon was reasonably easy on Austria for some very good reasons. More than anything else, he wanted peace. His 1809 campaign had been victorious, but there were some bad signs that came out of his victories. For one thing, the victories had not been as overwhelming as he may have wanted; he had not crushed his enemies. This was probably due to several factors, not the least of which was that his enemies were fighting better these days. Perhaps they had learned from Napoleon, but they were better organized and fought harder.
Another bad sign had been the approach taken by his friend and ally, Tsar Alexander of Russia. Alexander had talked a good game, but when it came to action, the promised Russian troops in support of the French were nowhere to be seen. Napoleon fought the Austrians with precious little help outside of the Poles. He and Alexander were still friends and allies, but it was clear to Napoleon that the alliance was not all it could be. For now, though, he treated Russia as a dear friend, even giving her some of Austria’s eastern territories.
These two chapters could give you the impression that Napoleon was invincible. Indeed, many people saw him as exactly that, and Figure 10-5 is typical of the imagery that supports that feeling. But as I show you in the next few chapters, Napoleon was anything but.
Figure 10-5: The Battles of Marengo, Wagram, and Austerlitz are among Napoleon’s finest and are commemo- rated on this bronze and marble inkwell. |
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