Napoleon and his court

by C. S. Forester

The next campaign, that of Jena, was marked by the failure of Napoleon’s intelligence arrangements and by confusion in his strategical arrangements. But it was also marked by the most sweeping success Napoleon ever gained. He himself with most of the Grand Army fought and routed half the Prussian army at Jena. On the same day Davout, with a single corps, fought and routed the other half at Auerstädt. Single-handed Davout sustained the attack of an army of twice his strength; he beat off Blücher and the furious Prussian squadrons; he counter-attacked without hesitation; he called for efforts of which few troops could have been capable, and finally he flung the enemy back in utter disorder.

The battle was more than a mere tactical success. Without Davout’s victory the pursuit after Jena would never have become historic. In fact Napoleon refrained from pursuit until he had heard from Davout. Well he might, indeed. Had Davout been beaten, Napoleon must have swung aside to face the victors, who would have been menacing his flank; Bernadotte’s corps would have been isolated and in serious peril, and there would have been no chance of close pursuit of Hohenlohe’s force. This would have had time to rally; the stern Prussian discipline would have knitted it once more together; it might have made a good defence of the line of the Elbe; the Russians might have arrived in time to save Berlin; there would perhaps have been no Friedland, and no Tilsit.

The stout little bald-pated man who commanded the 3rd Corps changed the face of Europe at Auerstädt.

Davout brought his corps through blizzards and across marshes to save the situation at Eylau; it was his opportune arrival and bold counsel which saved Napoleon from a grave tactical reverse, with probable serious consequences.

After Friedland Napoleon needed, as has already been said, a man of iron to hold down the north while he attended to the south. He made the only possible choice in Davout.

It would seem curious to us nowadays to hear that a general had made his fortune while in command; what a storm of rage would be aroused if anyone were to suggest that a modern English general had acquired three or four hundred thousand pounds while commanding in France! But apparently under the First Republic and First Empire it was the usual practice for all officers of high rank to plunder for their own hands, and to make enormous fortunes out of perquisites. Davout was the only exception, but Napoleon saw that he did not suffer on account of his singular disinterestedness, and heaped wealth upon him.

Another peculiar distinction which he gave him was the title of Duke of Auerstädt. When, about the beginning of 1808, Napoleon first began to bestow titles of honour, as distinct from titles of sovereignty, he acted upon a very definite plan. No one was to receive a title which did not enhance the glory of the Emperor. The less famous Marshals received ducal fiefs in Italy; Macdonald was made Duke of Tarentum, Mortier Duke of Treviso, Bessières Duke of Istria. With the title the Marshals received the fief with some show of sovereignty, but they were allowed—encouraged, in fact—to sell their sovereignties to the Empire as soon as received.

The more famous Marshals took their titles from the battles in which they had taken part; Lannes was made Duke of Montebello, Ney Duke of Elchingen. Lefebvre, whose reputation for republicanism Napoleon repeatedly employed to hallmark his own actions, was created Duke of Dantzic. Soult strove to obtain for himself the title of Duke of Austerlitz, but Napoleon put the idea impatiently aside. He wished to reserve the glory of Austerlitz entirely for himself, and Soult had to be content with the title of Duke of Dalmatia, which set him in the lower class of Marshal. But Napoleon’s jealousy went further than this. He did not want to give anyone a title derived from a battle which had not been fought under his own direction. He forced the title of Duke of Rivoli upon Masséna, although that Marshal had to his credit the far greater achievements of Zürich and Genoa. When it was suggested to him that it would be a kindly action to make the unhappy, neglected Jourdan Duke of Fleurus, he replied “Never! I might as well make him King of France at once.”

To this rule Napoleon only made two exceptions. One was Kellermann, whom he made Duke of Valmy, but by now Kellermann was too old (he was seventy-three) to be any danger, while Valmy was a landmark in French history. The other was Davout.

The Duke of Auerstädt had before him in 1807 a task which would give his sternness and devotion to duty free play. He had command of at least a hundred thousand men. For the support of these he received not a sou from the French Government—everything, pay, provisions and equipment, had to be wrung from the wretched countries in which they were in garrison. From Prussia Davout had to grind the enormous indemnity which Napoleon had imposed. In Westphalia he had to see that Jerome Bonaparte did not make too big a fool of himself. He had to keep a sharp eye upon the movements of Austria. Besides all this, he had to govern the infant Grand Duchy of Warsaw, where he had simultaneously to assure the Poles that an independent kingdom of Poland would shortly be set up, and the Russians and Austrians that an independent kingdom of Poland would never be set up.