Napoleon in 1812

There was an indescribable tension on the faces of the French officers who gathered at the command headquarters after organizing and maintaining the situation of the battlefield to some extent.

They had not yet experienced defeat in the Peninsular War, and were very satisfied with their brilliant victory over Wellesley and his allies, but there were rumors circulating in the crowd that were sending chills down their spines.

It was said that His Majesty was very unhappy with the outcome of this battle…

“It’s like a storm is coming. Anyone who see them would think it’s a parade of defeated soldiers. I wonder if His Majesty is making the corps too rigid by being more strict than necessary.”

Jean-Baptiste Bessières muttered as he saw the stiff and nervous faces of officers gathering at the command headquarters.

“I think differently. It’s because the battle’s outcome is only breaking the enemies and letting them retreat. Didn’t we eventually fail to achieve the strategic goals we hoped for in the beginning?”

It was not just that. At the end of the battle, they even had to endure Congreve rockets pouring out, devastating everything. But they had such a relaxed expression when it was over, almost like the Peninsular War had ended, which was very different from the Emperor’s thoughts.

“It’s sad and shameful, but we haven’t won against them since the Marquis of Wellington, Arthur Wellesley, became the commander-in-chief of the British army. It’s not incomprehensible that soldiers feel too satisfied with today’s victory.”

“You’re right. Apparently our Marshals couldn’t do anything against Arthur Wellesley. But isn’t His Majesty different?”

“Ah…”

Only then did Jean-Baptiste Bessières knew what Berthier was saying.

The Emperor had never faced Arthur Wellesley before. Actually, he had won a landslide victory over the British when Wellesley was not there yet, and had then gone east, winning over all the great generals of the continent. Naturally, the Emperor, who was the greatest commander of this era and had conquered Europe, had hoped for a ‘perfect victory’ against Arthur Wellesley’s Corps.

Because his expectations had been higher from the beginning, his reaction was different from the ones of the officers who thought ‘Isn’t this good enough?’

“Anyway, what’s certain is that we need to be careful about our behavior now. His Majesty has recently been changing the Empire to a liberal and less authoritarian monarchy, and his unnecessary mood swings have been greatly reduced, but we cannot guarantee that it will stay the same if we cross the line.”

The words of Berthier, the chief of staff, were a wake-up call for the French high-ranking officers who were listening to him, including Marshal Bessières. They were well aware of Napoleon Bonaparte’s capricious and extreme personality. They remembered the faces of those who acted wrongly and were humiliated with horrible insults or even bled.

These days, the Emperor had become much more gentle, but he was basically like fire. When stimulated, it would burn down everything around.

“The great Emperor of the Empire is coming. Please salute with courtesy and respect, everyone.”

Napoleon Bonaparte entered the command headquarters under the salute of the officers. As soon as he came in, he looked at the officers with an expressionless look. Those who received the Emperor’s gaze shivered.

He opened his mouth.

“Arthur Wellesley and the British, Spanish and Portuguese forces were defeated by me and the Imperial Army here between La Buena and San Felices. I think that it was a decisive battle that shook the whole continent of Europe beyond the peninsular. The soldiers who fought for this achievement certainly deserve praise.”

How could they be so anxious even though it was a compliment for the victory? While the officers were looking carefully at each other, reports of the battle began.

The battle against Wellesley’s Corps had begun at dawn and ended near noon.

Wellesley’s Corps seemed to have had this operation in mind from the beginning. While the French troops were bombarbed by the Congreve rockets, they left the battlefield with their belongings so meticulously that they could not be considered losers.

This was why despite winning the ‘Battle of La Buena-San Felices’, France did not collect any spoils such as military food, cotton cloth, wartime funds, military flags, and high-end goods. It was the same for war supplies, including gunpowder, cannons, rifles and muskets.

The French had only gained about 25,000 rounds of ammunition and 6,000 shovels at best. Nevertheless, a victory was a victory. The taff officers estimated that the coalition force lost about 12,000 men. These included Allied officers and soldiers captured by the French army.

“The Imperial Army showed superiority in the previous Battle of the Arlanzón River and in other miscellaneous engagements. Wellesley’s Corps is the elite unit of the coalition forces involved in the Peninsular War. It’s a very encouraging achievement to have reduce their power by a quarter.”

“Arthur Wellesley gave up his dominance on other fronts and concentrated his power here to target Burgos, a key point in the Iberian Peninsula. But the Emperor’s outstanding strategy and the struggle of the soldiers managed to stop him. I think it’s a great victory that will shine on our country.”

Berthier, the chief of staff, unwittingly clasped his forehead. He did not know who among the officers in charge of the combat report said such flattery, but it was really stupid. As expected, the Emperor’s expression changed.

“You are clearly misunderstanding something.”

“…!!”

“The purpose of the operation, on which I and the other Corps’ commanders worked hard, was not just to cut off one arm of Wellesley’s Corps. Don’t you remember hearing enough explanations about the grand objectives and strategic value of ‘Operation Sickle’ from me?”

The outline of Operation Sickle was simple.

Napoleon’s Corps had to hold Wellesley’s Corps as long as possible, as the latter tried to escape after seeing that the coalition was at a disadvantage in the war. In the meantime, André Masséna’s Corps was running this way pretending to go to Madrid, and would arrive behind them. If this operation had been successful, it could have ended the Peninsular War itself. All of Wellesley’s troops, the main forces of the Allies, would have been killed or taken prisoners.

“Gentlemen. I know better than anyone else that the strategic model on the table and the actual battlefield are different. But at least basic mistakes, that can only be made by first-time officers and recruits, should not have been made.”

The sloppy construction of bridges over the river had led to their collapse as heavy artillery was being carried over them, and the failure to report on the movements of the reserve forces of Wellesley’s Corps on time had almost endangered Davout’s troops. In addition, some infantry battalions had been unable to participate in the battle due to ammunition that was not supplied in time, and soldiers had been unable to control the fire caused by the Congreve rockets bombarding warehouses and barracks even though the river was just next to them.

The only ones whose mistakes were not pointed out by the Emperor were the members of the Middle Guard, who had showed splendid performances in the reed forest.

“If I have to evaluate today’s battle, I will say that it was a failure. What the hell are these troops in my Corps, which is supposed to be the elite of the Imperial Army?”

“…I have nothing to say, Your Majesty.”

Starting with Berthier, the chief of staff, the marshals of the Empire asked for apologies one after another.

The officers just bowed their heads, saying they were ashamed of themselves. The atmosphere sank to a point where they could not see the bottom of it, but Berthier was actually hiding his surprise. This was because the Emperor’s scolding of the officers was as smooth as flowing water and irrefutably logic.

‘Surely the Emperor has changed. And quite a lot.’

In the past, he would have thrown things at the officers because he could not control his anger. As Berthier faithfully followed the Emperor, he thought honestly that it would be difficult to earn respect from his subordinates in that way. This was because such behavior raised fear and animosity, not reflection and introspection.

However, today, the Emperor pointed out what was good and what was wrong, and also told the officers what attitude and mindset they needed to have in order to prevent this from happening in the future. He became a teacher, not a scolding and angry man.

‘The Imperial Army will become stronger in the future. His Majesty is showing the process first.’

For a moment the officers had been depressed, but now they had new resolutions. They would never make such stupid mistakes again.

Berthier nodded as he looked at their changed expressions. For him, the Emperor was starting to look like a truly great leader, as he unfolded new features different from the ones of his previous self, like layers of an onion. He was now a monarch worthy of true obedience.

Napoleon was thus constantly perfecting himself through self-discipline.

===

An explanation would need to be given for using so many of the kingdom’s beloved strategic materials, the Congreve rockets, in a single battle. Arthur Wellesley was already worried about the excuse he would have to give to the people of Westminster and 10 Downing Street (British Prime Minister’s residence).

Unfortunately, he did not even have time to worry.

“There are French troops nine miles ahead of us! Judging by their flags, they’re supposed to be André Masséna’s Corps!”

The news brought by cavalry patrols to Wellesley’s Corps, which had retreated to a temporarily supply station built in the city of Buniel, came as a shock.

“Ah, damn it! Wasn’t Masséna’s Corps supposed to be heading for Madrid!?”

“It must have been their vicious deception. Otherwise, they wouldn’t be so close to here…”

The officers muttered a lot, but Arthur Wellesley could not hear them. Chills were running down his spine.

‘Two hours… If we had retreated two hours late, the whole army would have faced a tragedy like Macbeth.’

In Wellesley’s head, the coalition troops were surrounded and destroyed by Napoleon’s and Masséna’s Corps. Their lives were hanging to a thread. And it was Napoleon Bonaparte who led all this shady and malicious plan, like a devil.

Arthur Wellesley had to hide the goose bumps he had all over his body, thinking that he could have been defeated by this deception.

“…The Marquis’ decision to use the Congreve rockets was the best judgment ever.”

At Major General Rowland Hill’s words, Wellesley nodded and agreed. Indeed, it was an exquisite blessing that God helped the kingdom and him.

“But now we have to think about what is going to happen. Masséna is not an easy commander.”

“That’s true. We need to be firmly prepared to counterattack him.”

“Just in case, pay special attention to the movements of Napoleon’s Corps. We’ve taken away their mobility, but as you know, we can never be careful enough against Napoleon.”

“All right, sir!”

Encountering Masséna’s Corps here was unexpected, but Arthur Wellesley was not too worried. Officers quickly regained their reason. Although the Wellesley Corps was running south like they were defeated, their situation was not so bad.

Not a few soldiers were wounded. However, there were enough supplies to maintain the unit’s combat capabilities. André Masséna’s ability was well known to them, but it was only truly a threat when he had enough power. The number of units he was leading was only half of the Wellesley Corps.

Of course, there was a problem with the soldiers’ physical strength because they fought a fierce battle until two hours ago, but it would be the same for Masséna’s troops, who came all the way here at a rapid pace.

‘Claws are powerful only when they’re on two closing jaws. With Napoleon’s operation failing, we can’t afford to fight each other with all our might, can we? It would be better for you and me to compromise and step down.’

Arthur Wellesley murmured so, recalling André Masséna marching toward his corps.