CHAPTER XXII

ULM AND TRAFALGAR

"Napoleon is the only man in Europe that knows the value of

time."--Czartoryski.

Before describing the Continental campaign which shattered the old

European system to its base, it will be well to take a brief glance at

the events which precipitated the war of the Third Coalition. Even at

the time of Napoleon's rupture with England, his highhanded conduct

towards the Italian Republic, Holland, Switzerland, and in regard to

the Secularizations in Germany, had exposed him to the hostility of

Russia, Sweden, and Austria; but as yet it took the form of secret

resentment. The last-named Power, under the Ministry of Count Cobenzl,

had relapsed into a tame and undignified policy, which the Swedish

Ambassador at Vienna described as "one of fear and hope--fear of the

power of France, and hope to obtain favours from her."[1] At Berlin,

Frederick William clung nervously to neutrality, even though the

French occupation of Hanover was a threat to Prussia's influence in

North Germany. The Czar Alexander was, at present, wrapt up in home

affairs; and the only monarch who as yet ventured to show his dislike

of the First Consul was the King of Sweden. In the autumn of 1803

Gustavus IV. defiantly refused Napoleon's proposals for a

Franco-Swedish alliance, baited though they were with the offer of

Norway as an eventual prize for Sweden, and a subsidy for every

Swedish warship serving against England. And it was not the dislike of

a proud nature to receive money which prompted his refusal; for

Gustavus, while in Germany, hinted to Drake that he desired to have

pecuniary help from England for the defence of his province of

Pomerania.[2]

But a doughtier champion of European independence was soon to enter

the field. The earlier feelings of respect and admiration which the

young Czar had cherished towards Napoleon were already overclouded,

when the news of the execution of the Duc d'Enghien at once roused a

storm of passion in his breast. The chivalrous protection which he

loved to extend to smaller States, the guarantee of the Germanic

system which the Treaty of Teschen had vested in him, above all, his

horror at the crime, led him to offer an emphatic protest. The Russian

Court at once went into mourning, and Alexander expressed both to the

German Diet and to the French Government his indignation at the

outrage. It was ever Napoleon's habit to return blow with blow; and he

now instructed Talleyrand to reply that in the D'Enghien affair he had

acted solely on the defensive, and that Russia's complaint "led him to

ask if, at the time when England was compassing the assassination of

Paul I., the authors of the plot had been known to be one league

beyond the [Russian] frontiers, every effort would not have been made

to have them seized?" Never has a poisoned dart been more deftly sped

at the weak spot of an enemy's armour. The Czar, ever haunted by the

thought of his complicity in a parricidal plot, was deeply wounded by

this malicious taunt, and all the more so because, as the death of

Paul had been officially ascribed to a fit, the insult could not be

flung back.[3] The only reply was to break off all diplomatic

relations with Napoleon; and this took place in the summer of 1804.[4]

Yet war was not to break out for more than a year. This delay was due

to several causes. Austria could not be moved from her posture of

timid neutrality. In fact, Francis II. and Cobenzl saw in Napoleon's

need of a recognition of his new imperial title a means of assuring a

corresponding change of title for the Hapsburg Dominions. Francis had

long been weary of the hollow dignity of Elective Emperor of the Holy

Roman Empire. The faded pageantry of Ratisbone and Frankfurt was all

that remained of the glories of the realm of Charlemagne: the medley

of States which owned him as elected lord cared not for the decrees of

this ghostly realm; and Goethe might well place in the mouth of his

jovial toper, in the cellar scene of "Faust," the words:

"Dankt Gott mit jedem Morgen

Dass Ihr nicht braucht für's Röm'sche Reich zu sorgen!"

In that bargaining and burglarious age, was it not better to build a

more lasting habitation than this venerable ruin? Would not the

hereditary dominions form a more lasting shelter from the storm? Such

were doubtless the thoughts that prompted the assumption of the title

of Hereditary Emperor of Austria (August 11th, 1804). The

letter-patent, in which this change was announced, cited as parallels

"the example of the Imperial Court of Russia in the last century and

of the new sovereign of France." Both references gave umbrage to

Alexander, who saw no parallel between the assumption of the title of

Emperor by Peter the Great and the game of follow-the-leader played by

Francis to Napoleon.[5]

Prussian complaisance to the French Emperor was at this time to be

expected. Frederick William III. reigned over 10,000,000 subjects; he

could marshal 248,000 of the best trained troops in Europe, and his

revenue was more fruitful than that of the great Frederick. Yet the

effective power of Prussia had sadly waned; for her policy was now

marked by an enervating indecision. In the autumn of 1804, however,

the Prussian King was for a time spurred into action by the news that

Sir George Rumbold, British envoy at Hamburg, had been seized on the

night of October 24th, by French troops, and carried off to Paris.

This aggression upon the Circle of Lower Saxony, of which Frederick

William was Director, aroused lively indignation at Berlin; and the

King at once wrote to Napoleon a request for the envoy's liberation as

a proof of his "friendship and high consideration ...a seal on the past

and a pledge for the future."

To this appeal Napoleon returned a soothing answer that Sir George

would at once be released, though England was ever violating the

rights of neutrals, and her agents were conspiring against his life.

The Emperor, in fact, saw that he had taken a false step, which might

throw Prussia into the arms of England and Russia. For this latter

Power had already (May, 1804) offered her armed help to the Court of

Berlin in case the French should violate any other German

territory.[6] But the King was easily soothed; and when, in the

following spring, Napoleon sent seven Golden Eagles of the Legion of

Honour to the Court of Berlin, seven Black Eagles of the renowned

Prussian Order were sent in return--an occurrence which led Gustavus

IV. to return his Order of the Black Eagle with the remark that he

could not recognize "Napoleon and his like" as comrades in an Order of

Chivalry and Religion.[7] Napoleon's aim was achieved: Prussia was

sundered from any league in which Gustavus IV. was a prominent member.

Thus, the chief steps in the formation of the Third Coalition were

taken by Sweden, England, and Russia. Early in 1804 Gustavus proposed

a League of the Powers; and, on the advent of the Pitt Ministry to

office, overtures began to pass between St. Petersburg and London for

an alliance. Important proposals were made by Pitt and our Foreign

Minister, the Earl of Harrowby, in a note of June 26th, 1804, in which

hopes were expressed that Russia, England, Austria, Sweden, and if

possible Prussia, might be drawn together.[8] Alexander and

Czartoryski were already debating the advantages of an alliance with

England. Their aims were certainly noble. International law and the

rights of the weak States bordering on France were to be championed,

and it was suggested by Czartoryski that disputes should be settled,

not by force, but by arbitration.[9]

The statement of these exalted ideas was intrusted to a special envoy

to London, M. Novossiltzoff, who propounded to Pitt the scheme of a

European polity where the States should be independent and enjoy

institutions "founded on the sacred rights of humanity." With this aim

in view, the Czar desired to curb the power of Napoleon, bring back

France to her old limits, and assure the peace of Europe on a firm

basis, namely on the principle of the _balance of power_. Pitt and

Lord Harrowby having agreed to these proposals, details were discussed

at the close of 1804. None of the allies were, in any case, to make a

separate peace; and England (said M. Novossiltzoff) must not only use

her own troops, but grant subsidies to enable the Powers to set on

foot effective forces.

This last sentence claims special notice, as it disposes of the

well-worn phrase, that the Third Coalition was _built up_ by Pitt's

gold. On the contrary, Russia was the first to set forth the need of

English subsidies, which Pitt was by no means eager to supply. The

phrase used by French historians is doubtless correct in so far as

English gold enabled our allies to arm efficiently; but it is wholly

false if it implies that the Third Coalition was merely trumped up by

our money, and that the Russian, Austrian, and Swedish Governments

were so many automatic machines which, if jogged with coins, would

instantly supply armies to the ready money purchaser. This is

practically the notion still prevalent on the Continent; and it is

clearly traceable to the endless diatribes against Pitt's gold with

which Napoleon seasoned his bulletins, and to the caricatures which he

_ordered to be drawn_. The following was his direction to his Minister

of Police, Fouché: "Have caricatures made--an Englishman purse in

hand, _entreating the various Powers to take his money. This is the

real direction to give the whole business._" How well he knew mankind:

he rightly counted on its gullibility where pictures were concerned;

and the direction which he thus gave to public opinion bids fair to

persist, in spite of every exposure of the trickery.[10]

But, to return to the plans of the allies, Holland, Switzerland, and

Italy were to be liberated from their "enslavement to France," and

strengthened so as to provide barriers to future aggressions: the King

of Sardinia was to be restored to his mainland possessions, and

receive in addition the Ligurian, or Genoese, Republic.[11]

On all essential topics the British Government was in full accord with

the views of the Czar, and Pitt insisted on the need of a system of

international law which should guarantee the Continent against further

rapacious acts. But Europe was not destined to find peace on these

principles until after ten years of desolating war.

Various causes hindered the formation of this league. On January 2nd,

1805, Napoleon sent to George III. an offer of peace; and those

persons who did not see that this was a device for discovering the

course of negotiations believed that he ardently desired it. We now

know that the offer was despatched a week after he had ordered

Missiessy to ravage the British West Indies.[12] And, doubtless, his

object was attained when George III. replied in the speech from the

throne (January 15th) that he could not entertain the proposal without

reference to the Powers with whom he was then engaged in confidential

intercourse, and especially the Emperor of Russia. Yet the British

Government discussed with the Czar the basis for a future pacification

of Europe; and the mission of Novossiltzoff at midsummer to Berlin, on

his way to Paris, was the answer, albeit a belated one, to Napoleon's

New Year's pacific appeal. We shall now see why this delay occurred,

and what acts of the French Emperor finally dispelled all hopes of

peace.

The delay was due to differences between Russia and England respecting

Malta and our maritime code. The Czar insisted on our relinquishing

Malta and relaxing the rigours of the right of search for deserters

from our navy. To this the Pitt Ministry demurred, seeing that Malta

was our only means of protecting the Mediterranean States, and our

only security against French aggressions in the Levant, while the

right of searching neutral vessels was necessary to prevent the

enfeebling of our navy.[13] Negotiations were nearly broken off even

after a treaty between the two Powers had been brought to the final

stage on April 11th, 1805; but in July (after the Czar had recorded

his solemn protest against our keeping Malta) it was ratified, and

formed the basis for the Third Coalition. The aims of the allies were

to bring about the expulsion of French troops from North Germany; to

assure the independence of the Republics of Holland and Switzerland;

and to reinstate the King of Sardinia in Piedmont. Half a million of

men were to be set in motion, besides the forces of Great Britain; and

the latter Power, as a set-off to her lack of troops, agreed to

subsidize her allies to the extent of; £1,250,000 a year for every

100,000 men actually employed in the war. It was further stipulated

that a European Congress at the close of the war should endeavour to

fix more surely the principles of the Law of Nations and establish a

federative system. Above all, the allies bound themselves not to

hinder the popular wish in France respecting the form of government--a

clause which deprived the war of the Third Coalition of that

monarchical character which had pervaded the league of 1793 and, to a

less extent, that of 1799.[14]

What was the attitude of Napoleon towards this league? He certainly

took little pains to conciliate the Czar. In fact, his actions towards

Russia were almost openly provocative. Thus, while fully aware of the

interest which Alexander felt in the restoration of the King of

Sardinia, he sent the proposal that that unlucky King should receive

the Ionian Isles and Malta as indemnities for his losses, and that too

when Russia looked upon Corfu as her own. To this offer the Czar

deigned not a word in reply. Napoleon also sent an envoy to the Shah

of Persia with an offer of alliance, so as to check the advances of

Russia on the shores of the Caspian.[15]

On the other hand, he used every effort to allure Prussia, by secretly

offering her Hanover, and that too as early as the close of July.[16]

For a brief space, also, he took some pains to conciliate Austria.

This indeed was necessary: for the Court of Vienna had already

(November 6th, 1804) framed a secret agreement with Russia to make war

on Napoleon if he committed any new aggression in Italy or menaced any

part of the Turkish Empire.[17] Yet this act was really defensive.

Francis desired only to protect himself against Napoleon's ambition,

and, had he been treated with consideration, would doubtless have

clung to peace.

For a time Napoleon humoured that Court, even as regards the changes

now mooted in Italy. On January 1st, 1805, he wrote to Francis,

stating that he was about to proclaim Joseph Bonaparte King of Italy,

if the latter would renounce his claim to the crown of France, and so

keep the governments of France and Italy separate, as the Treaty of

Lunéville required; that this action would enfeeble his (Napoleon's)

power, but would carry its own recompense if it proved agreeable to

the Emperor Francis.

But it soon appeared that Joseph was by no means inclined to accept

the crown of Lombardy if it entailed the sacrifice of all hope of

succeeding to the French Empire. He had already demurred to _le vilain

titre de roi_, and on January 27th announced his final rejection of

the offer. Napoleon then proposed to Louis that he should hold that

crown in trust for his son; but the suggestion at once rekindled the

flames of jealousy which ever haunted Louis; and, after a violent

scene, the Emperor thrust his brother from the room.

Perhaps this anger was simulated. He once admitted that his rage only

mounted this high--pointing to his chin; and the refusals of his

brothers were certainly to be expected. However that may be, he now

resolved to assume that crown himself, appointing as Viceroy his

step-son, Eugène Beauharnais. True, he announced to the French Senate

that the realms of France and Italy would be kept separate: but

neither the Italian deputies, who had been summoned to Paris to vote

this dignity to their master, nor the servile Senate, nor the rulers

of Europe, were deceived. Thus, when in the early summer Napoleon

reviewed a large force that fought over again in mimic war the battle

of Marengo; when, amidst all the pomp and pageantry that art could

devise, he crowned himself in the cathedral of Milan with the iron

circlet of the old Lombard Kings, using the traditional formula: "God

gave it me, woe to him who touches it"; when, finally, he incorporated

the Ligurian Republic in the French Empire, Francis of Austria

reluctantly accepted the challenges thus threateningly cast down, and

began to arm.[18] The records of our Foreign Office show conclusively

that the Hapsburg ruler felt himself girt with difficulties: the

Austrian army was as yet ill organized: the reforms after which the

Archduke Charles had been striving were ill received by the military

clique; and the sole result had been to unsettle rather than

strengthen the army, and to break down the health of the Archduke.[19]

Yet the intention of Napoleon to treat Italy as a French province was

so insultingly paraded that Francis felt war to be inevitable, and

resolved to strike a blow while the French were still entangled in

their naval schemes. He knew well the dangers of war; he would have

eagerly welcomed any sign of really peaceful intentions at Paris; but

no signs were given; in fact, French agents were sent into Switzerland

to intrigue for a union of that land with France. Here again the pride

of the Hapsburgs was cut to the quick, and they disdained to submit to

humiliations such as were eating the heart out of the Prussian

monarchy.

The Czar, too, was far from eager for war. He had sent Novossiltzoff

to Berlin _en route_ for Paris, in the hope of coming to terms with

Napoleon, when the news of the annexation of Genoa ended the last

hopes of a compromise. "This man is insatiable," exclaimed Alexander;

"his ambition knows no bounds; he is a scourge of the world; he wants

war; well, he shall have it, and the sooner the better," The Czar at

once ordered all negotiations to be broken off. Novossiltzoff, on July

10th, declared to Baron Hardenberg, the successor of Haugwitz at the

Prussian Foreign Office, that Napoleon had now passed the utmost

limits of the Czar's patience; and he at once returned his French

passports. In forwarding them to the French ambassador at Berlin,

Hardenberg expressed the deep regret of the Prussian monarch at the

breakdown of this most salutary negotiation--a phrase which showed

that the patience of Berlin was nearly exhausted.[20]

Clearly, then, the Third Coalition was not cemented by English gold,

but by Napoleon's provocations. While England and Russia found great

difficulty in coming to an accord, and Austria was arming only from

fear, the least act of complaisance on his part would have unravelled

this ill-knit confederacy. But no such action was forthcoming. All his

letters written in North Italy after his coronation are puffed up with

incredible insolence. Along with hints to Eugène to base politics on

dissimulation and to seek only to be feared, we find letters to

Ministers at Paris scorning the idea that England and Russia can come

to terms, and asserting that the annexation of Genoa concerns England

alone; but if Austria wants to find a pretext for war, she may now

find it.

Then he hurries back to Fontainebleau, covering the distance from

Turin in eighty-five hours; and, after a brief sojourn at St. Cloud,

he reaches Boulogne. There, on August the 22nd, he hears that Austria

is continuing to arm: a few hours later comes the news that Villeneuve

has turned back to Cadiz. Fiercely and trenchantly he resolves this

fateful problem. He then sketches to Talleyrand the outlines of his

new policy. He will again press, and this time most earnestly, his

offer of Hanover to Prussia as the price of her effective alliance

against the new coalition. Perhaps this new alliance will strangle the

coalition at its birth; at any rate it will paralyze Austria.

Accordingly, he despatches to Berlin his favourite aide-de-camp,

General Duroc, to persuade the King that his alliance will save the

Continent from war.[21]

Meanwhile the Hapsburgs were completely deceived. They imagined

Napoleon to be wholly immersed in his naval enterprise, and

accordingly formed a plan of campaign, which, though admirable against

a weak and guileless foe, was fraught with danger if the python's

coils were ready for a spring. As a matter of fact, he was far better

prepared than Austria. As late as July 7th, the Court of Vienna had

informed the allies that its army would not be ready for four months;

yet the nervous anxiety of the Hapsburgs to be beforehand with

Napoleon led them to hurry on war: and on August 9th they secretly

gave their adhesion to the Russo-British alliance.

Then, too, by a strange fatuity, their move into Bavaria was to be

made with a force of only 59,000 men, while their chief masses, some

92,000 strong, were launched into Italy against the strongholds on the

Mincio. To guard the flanks of these armies, Austria had 34,000 men in

Tyrol; but, apart from raw recruits, there were fewer than 20,000

soldiers in the rest of that vast empire. In fact, the success of the

autumn campaign was known to depend on the help of the Russians, who

were expected to reach the banks of the Inn before the 20th of

October, while it was thought that the French could not possibly reach

the Danube till twenty days later.[22] It was intended, however, to

act most vigorously in Italy, and to wage a defensive campaign on the

Danube.

Such was the plan concocted at Vienna, mainly under the influence of

the Archduke Charles, who took the command of the army in Italy, while

that of the Danube was assigned to the Archduke Ferdinand and Mack,

the new Quarter-Master-General. This soldier had hitherto enjoyed a

great reputation in Austria, probably because he was the only general

who had suffered no great defeat. Amidst the disasters of 1797 he

seemed the only man able to retrieve the past, and to be shut out from

command by Thugut's insane jealousy of his "transcendent

abilities."[23] Brave he certainly was: but his mind was always swayed

by preconceived notions; he belonged to the school of "manoeuvre

strategists," of whom the Duke of Brunswick was the leader; and he now

began the campaign of 1805 with the fixed purpose of holding a

commanding military position. Such a position the Emperor Francis and

Mack had discovered in the weak fortress of Ulm and the line of the

River Iller. Towards these points of vantage the Austrians now began

to move.

The first thing was to gain over the Elector of Bavaria. The Court of

Vienna, seeking to persuade or compel that prince to join the

Coalition, made overtures (September 3rd to 6th) with which he dallied

for a day or two until an opportunity came of escaping to the fortress

of Würzburg. Mack thereupon crossed the River Inn and sought, but in

vain, to cut off the Bavarian troops from that stronghold.

Accordingly, the Austrian leader marched on to Ulm, where he arrived

in the middle of September; and, not satisfied with holding this

advanced position, he pushed on his outposts to the chief defiles of

the Black Forest, while other regiments held the valley of the River

Iller and strengthened the fortress of Memmingen. Doubtless this would

have been good strategy, had his forces been equal in numbers to those

of Napoleon. At that time the Black Forest was the only physical barrier

between France and Southern Germany; the Rhine was then practically a

French river; and, only by holding the passes of that range could the

Austrians hope to screen Swabia from invasion on the side of Alsace.

[Illustration: BATTLE OF ULM.]

But Mack forgot two essential facts. Until the Russians arrived, he

was too weak to hold so advanced a position in what was hostile

ground, now that Bavaria and the other South German States obeyed

Napoleon's summons to range themselves on his side. Further, he was

dangerously exposed on the north, as a glance at the map will show.

Ulm and the line of the Iller formed a strong defence against the

south-west: but on the north that position is singularly open: it can

be turned from the valleys of the Main, the Neckar, and the Altmühl,

all of which conduct an invader to the regions east of Ulm. Indeed, it

passes belief how even the Aulic Council could have ignored the

dangers of that position. Possibly the fact that Ulm had been stoutly

held by Kray in 1796 now induced them to overrate its present

importance; but at that time the fortified camp of Ulm was the central

knot of vast operations, whereas now it was but an advanced

outpost.[24] If Francis and his advisers were swayed by historical

reminiscences it is strange that they forgot the fate of Melas in

Piedmont. The real parallel had been provided, not by Kray, but by the

general who was cut off at Marengo. Indeed, in its broad outlines, the

campaign of Ulm resembles that of Marengo. Against foes who had thrust

their columns far from their base, Napoleon now, as in 1800,

determined to deal a crushing blow. On the part of the Austrians we

notice the same misplaced confidence, the same lack of timely news,

and the same inability to understand Napoleon's plan until his

dispositions are complete; while his strategy and tactics in 1805

recall to one's mind the masterly simplicity of design, the subtlety

and energy of execution, which led up to his triumph in the plains of

Piedmont.

Meanwhile the allies were dissipating their strength. A Russian corps,

acting from Corfu as a base, and an English expedition from Malta,

were jointly to attack St. Cyr in the south of Italy, raise the

country at his rear and compel him to surrender. This plan was left

helplessly flapping in the air by a convention which Napoleon imposed

on the Neapolitan ambassador. On September 21st Talleyrand induced

that envoy to guarantee the neutrality of the kingdom of Naples, all

belligerents being excluded from its domains. Consequently St. Cyr's

corps evacuated that land and brought a welcome reinforcement to

Masséna on the Mincio. Equally skilful was Napoleon's action as

regards Hanover. On that side also the allies planned a formidable

expedition. From the fortress of Stralsund in Swedish Pomerania, a

force of Russians and Swedes, which Gustavus burned to command, was to

march into Hanover, and, when strengthened by an Anglo-Hanoverian

corps, drive the French from the Low Countries. It is curious to

contrast the cumbrous negotiations concerning this expedition--the

quarrels about the command, the anxiety at the outset lest Villeneuve

should perhaps sail into the Baltic, the delays of the British War

Office, the remonstrances of the Czar, and the efforts to avert the

jealousy of Prussia--with the serene indifference of Napoleon as to

the whole affair. He knew full well that the war would not be decided

by diversions at the heel of Italy or on the banks of the Ems, but by

the shock of great masses of men on the Danube. He denuded Hanover of

French troops, except at its southern fortress of Hameln, so that he

could overwhelm the levies of Austria before the Russians came up. In

brief, while the Coalition sought, like a Briareus, to envelop him on

all sides, he prepared to deal a blow at its heart.

As the first part of the campaign depended almost entirely on problems

of time and space, it will be well to follow the chief movements of

the hostile forces somewhat closely. The Austrian plan aimed at

forestalling the French in the occupation of Swabia; and its apparent

success puffed up Mack with boundless confidence. At Ulm he threw up

extensive outworks to strengthen that obsolete fortress, extended his

lines to Memmingen far on the south, and trusted that the Muscovites

would come up long before the French eagles hovered above the sources

of the Danube. But at that time the Russian vanguard had not reached

Linz in Upper Austria, and not before October 10th did it appear on

the banks of the River Inn.[25]

Far from being the last to move, the French Emperor outstripped his

enemies in the speed of his preparations. Whereas the Austrians

believed he would not be able to reach the Danube in force before

November 10th, he intended to have 200,000 men in Germany by September

18th. But he knew not at first the full extent of his good fortune: it

did not occur to him that the Austrians would cross the Inn: all he

asks Talleyrand, on August 23rd, is that such news may appear in the

"Moniteur" as will gain him twenty days and give General Bertrand time

to win over Bavaria, while "I make my 200,000 men pirouette into

Germany." On August 29th the _Army of England_ became the _Grand

Army_, composed of seven corps, led by Bernadotte, Marmont, Davoust,

Soult, Lannes, Ney and Augereau. The cavalry was assigned to Murat;

while Bessières was in command of the Imperial Guard, now numbering

some 10,000 men.

Already the greater part of this vast array was beginning to move

inland; Davoust and Soult left some regiments, 30,000 strong, to guard

the flotilla, and Marmont detached 14,000 men to defend the coasts of

Holland; but the other corps on September 2nd began their march

Rhine-wards in almost their full strength. On that day Bernadotte

broke up his cantonments in Hanover, and began his march towards the

Main, on which so much was to turn. The Elector of Hesse-Cassel now

espoused Napoleon's cause. Thus, without meeting any opposition,

Bernadotte's columns reached Würzburg at the close of September; there

the Elector of Bavaria welcomed the Marshal and gave him the support

of his 20,000 troops; and at that stronghold he was also joined by

Marmont.

In order to mislead the Austrians, Napoleon remained up to September

23rd at St. Cloud or Paris; and during his stay appeared a _Senatus

Consultum_ ordering that, after January 1st, 1806, France should give

up its revolutionary calendar and revert to the Gregorian. He then set

out for Strassburg, as though the chief blows were to be dealt through

the passes of the Black Forest at the front of Mack's line of defence;

and, to encourage that general in this belief, Murat received orders

to show his horsemen in the passes held by Mack's outposts, but to

avoid any serious engagements. This would give time for the other

corps to creep up to the enemy's rear. Mack, meanwhile, had heard of

the forthcoming junction of the French and Bavarians at Würzburg, but

opined that it threatened Bohemia.[26]

Accordingly, he still clung to his lines, contenting himself with

sending a cavalry regiment to observe Bernadotte's movements; but

neither he nor his nominal chief, the Archduke Ferdinand, divined the

truth. Indeed, so far did they rely on the aid of the Russians as to

order back some regiments sent from Italy by the more sagacious

Archduke Charles; but 11,000 troops from Tyrol reached the Swabian

army. That force was now spread out so as to hold the bridges of the

Danube between Ingolstadt and Ulm; and on October 7th the Austrians

were disposed as follows: 18,000 men under Kienmayer were guarding

Ingolstadt, Neuburg, Donauwörth, Günzburg, and lesser points, while

Mack had about 35,000 men at Ulm and along the line of the Iller; the

arrival of other detachments brought the Austrian total to upwards of

70,000 men. Against this long scattered line Napoleon led greatly

superior forces.[27] The development of his plans proceeded apace.

Though Prussia had proclaimed her strict neutrality, he did not

scruple to violate it by sending Bernadotte's corps through her

principality of Ansbach, which lay in their path. He charged

Bernadotte to "offer many assurances favourable to Prussia, and

testify all possible affection and respect for her--and then rapidly

cross her land, asserting the impossibility of doing anything else."

Accordingly, that Marshal was lavish in his regrets and apologies, but

ordered his columns to defile past the battalions and squadrons of

Prussia, that were powerless to resent the outrage.[28]

The news of this trespass on Prussian territory reached the ears of

Frederick William at a critical time, when the Czar sent to Berlin a

kind of ultimatum, intimating that, even if Prussia deserted the cause

of European independence, Russian troops must nevertheless pass

through part of Prussian Poland. Stung by this note from his usually

passive demeanour, the King sent off an answer that such a step would

entail a Franco-Prussian alliance against the violators of his

territory, when the news came that Napoleon had actually done at

Ansbach what Alexander had announced his intention of doing in the

east. The revulsion of feeling was violent: for a short space the King

declared he would dismiss Duroc and make war on Napoleon for this

insult, but in the end he called a cabinet council and invited the

Czar to come to Berlin.[29]

While the Gallophil counsellors, Haugwitz and Lombard, were using all

their arts to hinder the Prusso-Russian understanding, the meshes were

being woven fast around Mack and the Archduke Ferdinand. Bernadotte's

corps, after making history in its march, was detached to the

south-east so as to hold in check the Russian vanguard, and to give

plenty of room to the troops that were to cut off Mack from Austria, a

move which may be compared with the march of Bonaparte to Milan before

he essayed the capture of Melas. Both steps bespeak his desire to have

ample space at his back before circling round his prey.

On October 6th the corps of Soult and Lannes, helped by Murat's

powerful cavalry, cut the Austrian lines on the Danube at Donauwörth,

and gained a firm footing on the right bank. Over the crossing thus

secured far in Mack's rear, the French poured in dense array, and

marched south and south-west towards the back of the Austrian

positions, while Ney's corps marched to seize the chief bridges over

the Danube.

A study of the processes of Mack's brain at this time is not without

interest. It shows the danger of intrusting the fate of an army to a

man who cannot weigh evidence. Mack was not ignorant of the course of

events, though his news generally came late. The mischief was that his

brain warped the news. On October 6th he wrote to Vienna that the

enemy seemed about to aim a blow at his communications: on October

7th, when he heard of the loss of Donauwörth, he described it as an

unfortunate event, which no one thought to be possible. The Archduke

now urged the need of an immediate retreat towards Munich, and marched

in an easterly direction on Günzburg: another Austrian division of

8,000 men moved on Wertingen, where, on October 8th, it was furiously

attacked by the troops of Murat and Lannes. At first the Imperialists

firmly kept their ranks; but the unequal contest closed with a hasty

flight, which left 2,000 men in the hands of the French Then Murat,

pressing on through the woods, cut off Mack's retreat to Augsburg. Yet

that general still took a cheerful view of his position. On that same

day he wrote from Günzburg that, as soon as the enemy had passed over

the Lech, he would cross the Danube and cut their communications at

Nördlingen. He wrote thus when Ney's corps was striving to seize the

Danube bridges below Ulm. If Mack were to march north-east against the

French communications it was of the utmost importance for him to hold

the chief of these bridges: but Ney speedily seized three of them, and

on the 9th was able to draw closer the toils around Ulm.

From his position at Augsburg the French Emperor now directed the

final operations; and, as before Marengo, he gave most heed to that

side by which he judged his enemy would strive to break through, in

this case towards Kempten and Tyrol. This would doubtless have been

Mack's safest course; for he was strong enough to brush aside Soult,

gain Tyrol, seal up its valleys against Napoleon, and carry

reinforcements to the Archduke Charles. But he was still intent on his

Nördlingen scheme, even after the loss of the Danube bridges exposed

his march thither to flank attacks from the four French corps now

south of the river. Nevertheless, Napoleon's miscalculation of Mack's

plans, or, as Thiers has striven to prove, a misunderstanding of his

orders by Murat, gave the Austrians a chance such as fortune rarely

bestows.[30]

In spite of Ney's protests, one of his divisions, that led by Dupont,

had been left alone to guard the northern bank of the Danube, a

position where it might have been overwhelmed by an enterprising foe.

What is more extraordinary, Dupont, with only 6,000 men, was charged

to advance on Ulm, and carry it by storm. On the 11th he accordingly

advanced against Mack's fortified camp north of that city. The

Austrians met him in force, and, despite the utmost heroism of his

troops, finally wrested the village of Hasslach from his grasp; later

in the day a cloud of their horsemen, swooping round his right wing,

cut up his tired troops, took 1,000 prisoners, and left 1,500 dead and

wounded on the field. Among the booty was found a despatch of Napoleon

ordering Dupont to carry Ulm by storm--which might have shown them

that the French Emperor believed that city to be all but deserted.[31]

In truth, Napoleon's miscalculation opened for Mack a path of safety;

and had he at once marched away to the north, the whole aspect of

affairs might have changed. The Russian vanguard was on the banks of

the Inn: all the French, except the relics of Dupont's division, were

south of the Danube, and a few vigorous blows at their communications

might have greatly embarrassed troops that had little artillery, light

stores of ammunition, and lived almost entirely on the produce of the

country. We may picture to ourselves the fierce blows that, in such a

case, Frederick the Great would have rained on his assailants as he

wheeled round on their rear and turned their turning movements. With

Frederick matched against Napoleon, the Lech and the Danube would have

witnessed a very cyclone of war.

But Mack was not Frederick: and he had to do with a foe who speedily

made good an error. On October 13th, when Mack seemed about to cut off

the French from the Main, he received news through Napoleon's spies

that the English had effected a landing at Boulogne, and a revolution

had broken out in France. The tidings found easy entrance into a brain

that had a strange bias towards pleasing falsities and rejected

disagreeable facts. At once he leaped to the conclusion that the moves

of Soult, Murat, Lannes, Marmont, and Ney round his rear were merely

desperate efforts to cut back a way to Alsace. He therefore held fast

to his lines, made only feeble efforts to clear the northern road, and

despatched reinforcements to Memmingen. The next day brought other

news; that Memmingen had been invested by Soult; that Ney by a

brilliant dash across the Danube at Elchingen had routed an Austrian

division there, and was threatening Ulm from the north-east; and that

the other French columns were advancing from the south-east. Yet Mack,

still viewing these facts in the twilight of his own fancies, pictured

them as the efforts of despair, not as the drawing in of the hunter's

toils.

He was now almost alone in his reading of events. The Archduke

Ferdinand, though nominally in supreme command, had hitherto deferred

to Mack's age and experience, as the Emperor Francis enjoined. But he

now urged the need of instantly marching away to the north with all

available forces. Still Mack clung to his notion that it was the

French who were in sore straits; and he forbade the evacuation of Ulm;

whereupon the Archduke, with Schwarzenberg, Kollowrath, Gyulai, and

all whose instincts or rank prompted and enabled them to defy the

madman's authority, assembled 1,500 horsemen and rode off by the

northern road. It was high time; for Ney, firmly established at

Elchingen, was pushing on his vanguard towards the doomed city: Murat

and Lannes were charged to support him on the north bank, while across

the river Marmont, and further south Soult, cut off the retreat on

Tyrol.

At last the scales fell from Mack's eyes. Even now he protested

against the mere mention of surrender. But again he was disappointed.

Ney stormed the Michaelsberg north of Ulm, a position on which the

Austrians had counted; and on October 17th the hapless commander

agreed to terms of capitulation, whereby his troops were to march out

and lay down their arms in six days' time, if an Austro-Russian army

able to raise the siege did not come on the scene. These conditions

were afterwards altered by the captor, who, wheedling his captive with

a few bland words, persuaded him to surrender on the 20th on condition

that Ney and his corps remained before Ulm until the 25th. This was

Mack's last offence against his country and his profession; his assent

to this wily compromise at once set free the other French corps for

offensive operations; and that too when every day was precious to

Austria, Russia, and Prussia.

On October 20th the French Emperor, with a brilliant staff, backed by

the solid wall of his Guard and flanked by eight columns of his

troops, received the homage of the vanquished. First came their

commander, who, bowed down by grief, handed his sword to the victor

with the words, "Here is the unfortunate Mack." Then there filed out

to the foot of the Michaelsberg 20,000 foot and 3,000 horse, who laid

down their arms before the Emperor, some with defiant rage, the most

part in stolid dejection, while others flung them away with every sign

of indecent joy.[32] As if the elements themselves conspired to

enhance the brilliance of Napoleon's triumph, the sun, which had been

obscured for days by storm-clouds and torrents of rain, now shone

brightly forth, bathing the scene in the mild radiance of autumn,

lighting up the French forces disposed on the slopes of that natural

amphitheatre, while it cast deep shadows from the long trail of the

vanquished beneath. The French were electrified by the sight: the

fatigues of their forced marches through the dusty heats of September,

and the slush, swamps, and torrents of the last few days were all

forgotten, and they hailed with jubilant shouts the chief whose

sagacity had planned and achieved a triumph hitherto unequalled in the

annals of war. "Our Emperor," said they, "has found out a new way of

making war: he no longer makes it with our arms, but with our

legs."[33]

Meanwhile the other Austrian detachments were being hunted down. Only

a few men escaped from Memmingen into Tyrol: the division, which, if

properly supported, might have cut a way through to Nördlingen three

days earlier, was now overwhelmed by the troops of Murat and Lannes;

out of 13,000 foot-soldiers very few escaped. Most of the horsemen

succeeded in joining the Archduke Ferdinand, on whose track Murat now

flung himself with untiring energy. The _beau sabreur_ swept through

part of Ansbach in pursuit, came up with Ferdinand near Nuremberg, and

defeated his squadrons, their chief, with about 1,700 horse and some

500 mounted artillerymen, finally reaching the shelter of the Bohemian

Mountains. All the rest of Mack's great array had been engulfed.

Thus closed the first scene of the War of the Third Coalition. Hasty

preparations, rash plans, and, above all, Mack's fatal ingenuity in

reading his notions into facts--these were the causes of a disaster

which ruined the chances of the allies. The Archduke Charles, who had

been foiled by Masséna's stubborn defence, was at once recalled from

Italy in order to cover Vienna; and, worst of all, the Court of Berlin

now delayed drawing the sword.

Yet, even amidst the unstinted boons that she showered on Napoleon by

land, Fortune rudely baffled him at sea. When he was hurrying from Ulm

towards the River Inn, to carry the war into Austria, he heard that

the French navy had been shattered. Trafalgar was fought the day after

Mack's army filed out of Ulm. The greatest sea-fight of the century

was the outcome of Napoleon's desire that his ships should carry

succour to his troops in Italy. For this voyage the Emperor was about

to substitute Admiral Rosily for Villeneuve: and the unfortunate

admiral, divining that resolve, sought by a bold stroke to retrieve

his fortunes. He put to sea, and Trafalgar was the result. It would be

superfluous to describe this last and most splendid of Nelson's

exploits; but a few words as to the bearing of this great victory on

the events of that time may not be out of place. It is certain that

Villeneuve at Trafalgar fought under more favourable conditions than

in the conflict of July 22nd. He had landed his very numerous sick,

his crews had been refreshed and reinforced, and, above all, the worst

of the Spanish ships had been replaced by seaworthy and serviceable

craft. Yet out of the thirty-three sail of the line, he lost eighteen

to an enemy that numbered only twenty-seven sail; and that fact alone

absolves him from the charge of cowardice in declining to face

Cornwallis and Calder in July with ships that were cumbered with sick

and badly needed refitting.

Then again: it is often stated that Trafalgar saved England from

invasion. To refute this error it is merely needful to remind the

reader that all immediate fear of invasion was over, when, at the

close of August, Napoleon wheeled the Grand Army against Austria. Not

until the Continent was conquered could the landing in Kent become

practicable. That opportunity occurred two years later, after Tilsit;

then, in truth, the United Kingdom was free from panic because

Trafalgar had practically destroyed the French navy. For these

islands, then, the benefits of Trafalgar were prospective. But, for

the British Empire, they were immediate. Every French, Dutch, and

Spanish colony that now fell into our hands was in great measure the

fruit of Nelson's victory, which heralded the second and vaster stage

of imperial growth.

Finally, the decisive advantage which Britain now gained over Napoleon

at sea compelled him, if he would realize the world-wide schemes ever

closest to his heart, to adopt the method of warfare against us which

he had all along contemplated as an effective alternative. As far back

as February, 1798, he pointed out that there were three ways of

attacking and ruining England, either a direct invasion, or a French

control of North Germany which would ruin British commerce, or an

expedition to the Indies. After Trafalgar the first of these

alternatives was impossible, and the last receded for a time into the

background. The second now took the first place in his thoughts; he

could only bring England to his feet and gain a world-empire by

shutting out her goods from the whole of the Continent, and thus

condemning her to industrial strangulation. In a word, Trafalgar

necessitated the adoption of the Continental System, which was built

up by the events now to be described.

Note to the Third Edition.--An American critic has charged me with

inconsistency in saying that the Third Coalition was not built up

by English gold, because I state (p. 5) that the first advances

were made by England to Russia. I ought to have used the phrase

"the first _written_ proposals that I have found were made," etc.

Czartoryski's "Memoirs" (vol. ii., chs. ii.-iii.), to which I

referred my readers for details, show clearly that Alexander and

his advisers looked on a rupture with France as inevitable, but

wished to temporize for some three months or so, until certain

matters were cleared up; they therefore cautiously sounded the

position at Vienna and London. This passage from Czartoryski (vol.

ii., ch. iii.) proves that Russia wanted the English alliance:

"After the diplomatic rupture consequent upon the execution of the

Duc d'Enghien, it became indispensable to come to an understanding

with the only Power, except Russia, which thought herself strong

enough to contend with France--to ascertain as thoroughly as

possible what were her inclinations and designs, the principles of

her policy, and those which she could be led to adopt in certain

contingencies. It would have been a great advantage to obtain the

concurrence in our views of so powerful a State as England, and to

strive with her for the same objects; but for this it was

necessary, not only to make sure of her present inclinations, but

to weigh well the possibilities of the future after the death of

George III. and the fall of the Pitt Ministry. We had to make

England understand that the wish to fight Napoleon was not in

itself sufficient to establish an indissoluble bond between her

Government and that of St. Petersburg...."

In "F.O.," Russia, No. 55, is a despatch of our ambassador at St.

Petersburg, Admiral Warren, of June 30, 1804, in which he reports

Czartoryski's concern at rumours of negotiations between England

and France: "The prince [Czartoryski] remarked that he could not

suppose, after what had passed between the two Courts, and the

manner in which the Emperor [Alexander] had explained himself to

England, and after the measures which Russia had since proposed,

that Great Britain would make a peace at once by herself."

Of these earlier negotiations I have found no trace; but obviously

the first proposals for an alliance must have come from Russia.

Sweden was the first to propose a monarchical league against

Napoleon. (See my article in the "Revue Napoléonienne" for June,

1902.)

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