The Campaigns of Napoleon

by David G Chandler

  Some time would have to elapse, however, before Napoleon could open the new campaign. With little more than the province of Navarre and the city of Barcelona remaining in French hands by early September, there was no doubt that the French forces in the Peninsula were in a state of near total eclipse, and strategically committed to the defensive for the immediate future. The Emperor accordingly devised a temporary stopgap plan of operations, devised to win sufficient time for the completion of his preparations and transfers.

  It was particularly vital that Navarre should remain firmly under French control as a bridgehead ready to receive the reinforcements on their arrival from Germany, and also that Barcelona should continue to hold out on the extreme left. To ensure the safety of Navarre, therefore, Joseph was ordered to place 16,000 men at both Tudela and Burgos and to mass the remainder in reserve around Logroño, “ready to act on the offensive on either wing.” This was a straightforward application of Napoleon’s master strategy for dealing with an unfavorable situation, but it found neither comprehension nor favor among the shamefaced commanders in Spain. King Joseph and Marshal Jourdan (his principal military advisor)—stung by Napoleon’s rebukes—lost little time in suggesting an alternative strategy, a madcap scheme involving a direct advance on Madrid, heedless of the peril to their communications, taking on all comers. Napoleon immediately vetoed this ludicrous suggestion, but it proved to him how vital was his presence in Spain not only to defeat the Allies but also to keep his subordinates on a short leash. To date, the use of remote control for campaign direction had demonstrably been a failure, and if victory was to be gained, both the master’s brain and hand would have to be brought fully to bear, the sooner the better.

  If Napoleon was anxious lest his chief subordinates might engage in a premature counteroffensive and thus compromise the security of Navarre, he was equally worried lest Barcelona, with its garrison of 10,000 men under General Duhesme, should succumb to Spanish pressure and thus emperil the entire left flank and rear of the main Ebro position. For although Marshal Ney, that trustworthy fire-eater, was soon on the Spanish scene, it would still be several weeks before the French reinforcements could appear in sufficient numbers to redress the generally unfavorable situation. Fortunately for Napoleon, however, there was hardly a trace of coordination in the Spanish war effort; the regional juntas were almost as hostile toward one another as to the French, and basic disunity equally affected their armies. As a result, no effective attempt was made to exploit the considerable successes of July and August, and the French were afforded a much needed breathing space. Even the 20,000-strong British army was in no position to undertake an immediate offensive; throughout September the hesitant Dalrymple refused to move from Lisbon until he received specific orders from London, and thereafter General Sir John Moore (appointed to the command in Sir Hugh’s place on October 6) was to find himself delayed by logistical problems and unreliable allies for a further considerable period,. As a result of these timeconsuming and damaging allied preoccupations, Napoleon was afforded more than enough time to complete the preparations—both military and diplomatic—for his devastating counter stroke.

  58

  HARD BARGAINING AT ERFURT

  Before he could depart for the Iberian front, Napoleon needed to take steps to ensure the continued quiescence of Central, Eastern and Southern Europe during his absence from the center of continental affairs. The Emperor was fully aware of the way in which the Spanish, German and Polish problems were closely intertwined, and it was equally clear to him that the only means of ensuring a satisfactory maintenance of the general status quo on the Continent was a strengthened alliance with the Tsar. In addition to the Imperial Guard, in 1808 the French army consisted of 113 line and 32 light infantry regiments, or a total of 417 battalions comprising some 350,280 men; the French cavalry was divided amongst 80 regiments, totaling 320 squadrons or 48,000 troopers. The artillery trains could provide some 1,000 cannon for use in the field, or a proportion of approximately two guns to every thousand men (of all arms). This might, taken together, appear to constitute a formidable array, but as Napoleon was planning to transfer almost 100,000 of his best troops to the distant Spanish front (which was already absorbing about 120,000 men of the second line), he was left with only a weakened force (perhaps 150,000 in all) to watch over all his other European interests, stretching from Poland to Prussia, from Bavaria to Dalmatia, from metropolitan France and the Netherlands to Italy. It was true that certain of his allies were in a position to provide a reasonable degree of support, but in general terms the Emperor felt he needed the military backing of the Russian army to ensure the safe maintenance of his Pax Romana.

  Since the triumph of Tilsit, however, Franco-Russian relations had deteriorated considerably. Although Russia was by this time an active member of the Continental System, many anti-Gallic pressures were again being exerted upon the impressionable Alexander, not the least being that of his mother, the redoubtable Dowager Empress. Several points of friction also served to weaken the alliance of the two great continental powers. The abrupt closure of the Russian timber trade with Great Britain severely damaged the Russian economy, while the Tsar soon felt he had good reason to suspect Napoleon’s intentions vis-à-vis Turkey and the Grand Duchy of Warsaw; in addition, Russian strategists disliked the continued presence of French garrisons as far east as the River Oder. However, Alexander did not yet feel strong enough to admit that the French alliance had been a mistake. It was very dangerous for a Tsar of All the Russias to admit human fallibility, for only the womenfolk of the House of Romanov died in their beds; a silk scarf tied round the neck or a dozen swords through the ribs had been the fate of several of Alexander’s immediate forebears, assassination being the standard penalty for errors of judgment.

  For his part, Napoleon had always been adamant that Russian influence should be excluded from the Mediterranean area, hence his refusal to countenance the notion of Russian possession of Constantinople and his unwillingness to see the extension of the Tsar’s influence in the Balkans. Consequently, he had repeatedly attempted to divert Alexander’s expansionist ambitions toward Finland and Sweden. However, after receiving news of Bailen, and being aware of the progressing Austrian rearmament, the French Emperor was forced to seek at almost any cost a full conciliation with Alexander and some sort of settlement with Prussia in order to free his hands for his Iberian adventure. For some considerable time preliminary negotiations for a meeting with the Tsar had been in hand, but it was only in late September 1808 that the two despots actually met at the city of Erfurt to discuss the state of Europe and try to settle outstanding issues.

  Despite its superficial glamor, the meeting was very different from that of Tilsit. Both sides were aware on this occasion that Russia held the overall advantage from the very outset, and Napoleon’s negotiating position was indubitably adversely affected by the repercussions of Bailen and Cintra. The French were no longer in a position to dictate their terms concerning Constantinople, Turkey, Prussia and Austria; Napoleon’s position was practically that of a suppliant seeking the favors of the Tsar. As Napoleon saw it, only Russia could guarantee the peace of Central Europe under the prevailing circumstances, and Alexander was well aware of the strength of his bargaining position. The “Little Father” lost no time in making the most of his opportunity. If France wanted Russia to guarantee Austria’s future good behavior, she would have to pay for it in the form of important concessions in southeastern Europe, and a considerable reduction in Prussia’s crippling war indemnity.

  Napoleon spared no pains in attempting to impress Alexander with French magnificence and the apparent extent of the Empire’s powers. Hosts of subservient German princelings were summoned to “decorate” the conference, and great stress was laid upon cultural activities and entertainments; even the great Goethe was imported for the occasion. The two Emperors reached Erfurt simultaneously on September 27, and a full program of receptions and spectacles immediately began. Napoleon
clearly hoped to disguise the basic weakness of his position beneath a facade of splendor; all being well, Alexander was to be dazzled into compliance with French wishes.

  In the event, the task proved even harder than anticipated. When it came to the real work of the conference table, neither side was prepared to concede a great deal. For a time it appeared that deadlock was inevitable; the issues of Constantinople, Austrian rearmament and garrisons on the Oder seemed impossible to solve. Napoleon, in turn, vainly tried to charm, cajole and threaten his fellow potentate into a more compliant mood, but Alexander, fortified by secret information supplied by Talleyrand, who wished to see Napoleon brought to his senses, remained politely adamant.

  After two weeks of exhaustive haggling, a form of compromise was at last reached, on balance, to Russia’s advantage. Napoleon unwillingly agreed to permit Russian occupation of the Balkan states of Moldavia and Wallachia, although the actual takeover was to be postponed lest the Sultan should make common cause with Great Britain at the present inconvenient time. Napoleon also confirmed Russian gains in Finland and agreed that he would take no part in any future war between Russia and Turkey. The question of Constantinople, however, was firmly shelved, and the French refused to heed most of the Tsar’s pleas on behalf of Prussia. Nevertheless, 20 millions were struck off her war indemnity. On the Russian side, Alexander agreed to countenance Napoleon’s intentions toward Spain, and, “in the case of Austria declaring war against France, the Emperor of Russia undertakes to denounce Austria and to make common cause with France….”32 This was a vague enough stipulation, but it was the best Napoleon could extract from his ally and he had to be satisfied with it. These terms were incorporated in a Convention signed by the respective parties on October 12. The final proceedings at Erfurt consisted of another joint appeal to King George III calling for reopened negotiations for a general pacification, but this was little more than a formality designed to impress European opinion with Napoleon’s unquestionable love of peace. Thus the Franco-Russian alliance survived the meeting, but the real issues at variance between the two powers were left unsettled. Nevertheless, Napoleon at last felt secure enough to turn all his attention towards the “Spanish ulcer.” Only time would show that his confidence in Alexander was misplaced.

  59

  IMPERIAL INTERVENTION

  As the long columns of Napoleon’s veterans hastened across Germany and France toward their rendezvous at Bayonne, the leaders of the Spanish insurrection were making belated and ineffective attempts to set their house in order. On September 25, the so-called Supreme Junta met at Madrid to determine an overall policy, but from the beginning the particularist interests of the provincial representatives made even the pretense of centralized government a travesty. The thirty-five delegates spent day after day arguing abstract constitutional issues, but no attempt was made to appoint an overall commander in chief over the Spanish armies. Instead, the Supreme Junta continued to communicate separately with the captains-general of the provincial armies, and this led to considerable confusion and even worse coordination. For the most part, these military dignitaries were of small caliber as field commanders. General Castaños was probably potentially the ablest—an experienced soldier who had held high command under the Bourbons—but he was first and foremost a proud and aristocratic Castillian with little sympathy for the concept of “popular armies.” Another commander who had belonged to the “old regime” was La Romana, a capable though hardly brilliant officer, presently commanding the Spanish corps in the process of being repatriated from North Germany by the Royal Navy. General Galluzzo, captain general of Estremadura, was a crusty old “political soldier” with little liking for the new juntas; he also bore an unenviable reputation for continuing to extract wartime contributions from the Portuguese long after the publication of the Convention of Cintra, which had officially brought hostilities to a close. General Vives, captain general of Palma, was an aged, overcautious, Anglophobic booby.

  Among the younger soldiers, there were perhaps rather more signs of genuine talent. Foremost among these was General Blake, a young and gifted soldier of fortune of Irish extraction; he had been only a colonel on the Dos Mayo, but had subsequently been selected for the post of captain-general of the Province of Galicia. A worthy soldier of fair ability, unusually strict and energetic for a Spanish general, unquestionably brave and above all approachable, Blake’s greatest drawback was a tendency to ill fortune in the field. Joseph Palafox, captain-general of Aragon, was the second son of a local nobleman, aged twenty-eight years; he was more the courtier than the soldier, and had no military experience whatsoever when he was called to command, but he had subsequently shown a fanaticism and courage during the first siege of Saragossa which made him something of a legend. Then there was General Theodoro Redding, originally a divisional commander under Castaños, who had risen to fame and high command in the Catalan army after the famous episode of Bailen. Thus the Supreme Junta controlled a very mixed bag of commanders, but at least they had the sense to sack the hopelessly proud Gregorio de la Cuesta, the villain of Medina del Rio Seco, who openly refused to accept the authority of the juntas. Nevertheless, these many generals could not produce much in the way of an army between them. By the end of October there were hardly more than 110,000 Spanish troops facing the 75,000 French along the Ebro line, and the only reinforcement of note since July had been the arrival at Santander of General La Romana’s 10,000 men by courtesy of the Royal Navy.

  Under such conditions of confusion and lethargy, there is little wonder that the positioning of the Spanish forces and the plans for their employment left a great deal to be desired. The Supreme Junta could call on the services of some half dozen provincial armies, but only three were of any size. By late October, General Blake was in command of some 43,000 Galicians and Asturians on the left of the Spanish line, but only 32,000 of these were at the front in the general vicinity of Reynosa, the remainder being retained at Astorga. At the same period, the Army of the Center, led by General Castaños, enjoyed a front-line strength of 31,000 foot and 3,000 horse, and was drawn up to the south and east of Logroño. The right wing consisted of General Joseph Palafox’s Army of Aragon, comprising on paper a force of 42,000 men, but in fact less than 25,000 of these were actually available for operations along the frontiers of their native province, and very soon 4,000 would be detached and sent eastwards to take part in the siege of Barcelona. Two other smaller armies complete the list of Spanish front-line formations. In the general vicinity of Burgos were stationed the 12,000 infantry and 1,000 cavalry of General Galluzzo’s Army of Estremadura, while away in Catalonia was another force of some 20,000 men under General Vives, conducting the siege of Barcelona. Thus the Central Junta disposed of approximately 125,000 troops in the first line.

  There were also considerable second line and reserve formations behind the main front. The Army of Granada (15,000 strong) was marching toward Barcelona led by General Redding, and an Army of Reserve was in slow process of formation at Madrid, made up of rear units of the armies of Andalusia and Estremadura to the number of perhaps 13,000 men. Scattered Galician, Asturian and more Estremaduran reserves account for a further 13,500, most of them situated in scattered garrisons. At Saragossa were massed at least 22,000 Aragonese, Murcians and Valencians, mostly untrained militia, while away in the south were a further 13,000 reserves in Andalusia. Including various other minor detachments, it can be said that the Spanish second line troops amounted to a further 80,000 men. In all, therefore, perhaps 200,000 Spaniards belonged to recognizable formations, but this figure does not take into account large numbers of partisans and guerillas operating independently behind the French lines.

  In addition to these native Spanish forces, by mid-October Sir John Moore was painfully making his way northward from Lisbon at the head of 20,000 British troops (leaving 10,000 more to safeguard Portugal). Of all the Allied generals in the Peninsula at this time there can be no doubt that Moore was the ablest. Aged 47, his
promotion to command of Britain’s only field army had been delayed for political reasons, but his reputation as a trainer of troops and commander in battle was already unequaled. After distinguished service in many parts of the globe, he had more recently served in the Helder and Egyptian campaigns of 1798 and 1800-01 and the strange operations in the Baltic in 1808. During the critical days when Britain was awaiting Napoleon’s impending invasion, Moore had trained up a division of light infantry at Shorncliffe near Dover on new principles. Dissatisfied with the rigid “mechanical” approach of many British generals to questions of tactical application, he had insisted on instilling a high sense of personal responsibility into officers and men alike, training the rank and file to think and fight as individuals rather than as mere members of a military machine. To technical improvements—better shooting and a tough though enlightened approach to discipline—Sir John added a great gift for administration. Under his eagle eye, the men were well cared for, and woe betide the officer who neglected his duty. All in all, he was a conscientious officer with a full knowledge of his profession.