He Became Napoleon’S Genius Son [EN]: Chapter 491

(491) Stop the Devil at Bautzen

Since the dawn of modern times, the concept of the five great powers in Europe has been a staple of diplomatic discourse.

“The British Empire, Prussia, Austria, Russia, and France. That’s what they were called in diplomatic circles.”

“Russia and Austria are missing. Where is Spain, Lord Castlereagh?”

“Spain, a great power? Baron Henry Vassall-Fox? Of course, things might be different if King Eugene returns.”

Castlereagh glanced at Fox’s nephew, Baron Henry Vassall, and a hint of skepticism colored his tone.

“*If* that friend can return, that is.”

The scene unfolds in Hanover, the capital of the Kingdom of Hanover.

Nestled in Germany, this territory belongs to the British King, and British diplomats leverage it as a strategic base on the European continent.

Its location allows for discreet movement without drawing undue attention.

Sipping tea in a secure British Foreign Office safe house in Hanover, Castlereagh elaborated.

“Anyway, now we have the British Empire, Prussia, and Hungary, stepping in for Austria. And it seems the Rhine Confederation is eager to get involved.”

“Will the King of Bavaria be able to maintain his leadership position even after the war?”

“Coming so late to the party, wouldn’t it be difficult?”

Castlereagh consulted a report from a spy embedded in the Rhine region.

“King Maximilian fears an attack on Munich. He’ll only commit to Dresden if he receives guarantees that French troops will not advance towards Munich.”

Despite any protests from the Duke of Saxony, whose power base is Dresden, Bavaria holds the mantle of leadership within the alliance.

Moreover, Bavaria, along with other members of the Rhine Confederation, seeks to avoid a direct confrontation with Napoleon.

Indeed, even in the historical record following the Russian campaign, the primary tenet of the anti-French alliance was to circumvent a direct engagement with Napoleon.

The strategy at the time involved intercepting other commanders first, with the aim of weakening their forces.

However, that strategy was formulated with the input of Bernadotte, who possessed intimate knowledge of Napoleon’s tactics.

Currently, the anti-French alliance lacks such a well-defined grand strategy.

British involvement could shift the balance, but Britain isn’t quite ready to commit.

“Then what brought us here? I thought we were here to sway the Rhine Confederation.”

“London seems to desire that outcome, but we don’t chase the impossible. I’m contemplating a separate application for the 3 million pounds.”

“Where will you allocate it? It could invite censure upon your return home.”

Castlereagh turned towards the box containing the 3 million pounds in military funds, secured with the British Prime Minister’s approval.

“For the individual I’m meeting today.”

Precisely one hour later, the awaited guest entered the safe house.

“It’s been a while, Lord Castlereagh.”

“It’s been a long time, Mr. Salomon Rothschild. Your brother ‘Nathan’ is doing well, I trust? I assumed you might be curious.”

“I wouldn’t say I’m curious. As someone loyal to the French Empire, a meeting with a London envoy isn’t exactly a cause for celebration.”

It was a member of the Rothschild family, a Jewish banking dynasty from Germany.

Before the revolution, they were merely a Jewish money-changing family.

They managed the funds of the Landgrave of Hesse-Kassel, but that was the extent of their influence.

However, the French Revolution, with its declaration of Jewish emancipation, altered the landscape.

The expansion of the French Empire correlated with the growing influence of Jewish financiers.

Now, it’s no exaggeration to assert that the Rothschilds exert financial control over the entirety of the former Holy Roman Empire.

Castlereagh scrutinized Salomon, a man once implicated in a plot to assassinate the Russian Tsar, and inquired.

“Do you genuinely believe Napoleon will prevail? It’s time to abandon that illusion, Salomon.”

Salomon responded with a chilling composure.

“I don’t *trust* Napoleon.”

“What? Then why not join forces with us? We’ve brought 3 million pounds this time. 3 million! That’s enough to catapult Rothschild Bank to the pinnacle of global finance!”

“Even if you offered 30 million pounds, my answer would remain the same.”

Salomon, a financier for whom British transactions aren’t as crucial as they are for Nathan, clarified.

“I understand the capabilities of King Eugene de Beauharnais. Simply overthrowing Napoleon won’t resolve anything. Do you even know where King Eugene is in this war?”

If the objective were solely the removal of Napoleon, Salomon might have been tempted.

But France possesses a backup plan in the form of the King of Spain.

If Eugene were to initiate another war under the banner of avenging Napoleon, even if Napoleon were to die, France would likely emerge victorious.

Castlereagh’s lips twisted in displeasure.

“In that case, you’ve made a miscalculation, Salomon.”

“What do you mean?”

“We British are already aware of King Eugene’s location. He’s en route to Copenhagen via the Baltic Sea.”

Castlereagh chuckled, divulging top-secret intelligence unknown even to Prussia, Hungary, the Rhine Confederation, or France itself.

“Surely our British Royal Navy won’t allow that to happen, will they?”

But instead of shock, Castlereagh was met with derision.

“That’s unfortunate.”

“Yes, Spain is on the verge of losing its king. The queen will soon be a widow. You can offer your condolences in advance.”

“No, I’m referring to the esteemed British fleet commander.”

Salomon rose from his seat and stated simply.

“Can anyone evade the magic bullet that felled the Emperor?”

That same magic bullet once struck down even Nelson, the British Navy’s most celebrated admiral.

As Salomon departed, Castlereagh slammed his fist on the desk.

Had Salomon agreed to assist Britain, the possibilities would have been boundless.

Firstly, infiltrating spies into the French Grande Armée would have been significantly easier.

Furthermore, Salomon’s financial network could have been leveraged upon the British army’s arrival.

All these plans were now in ruins.

“Foolish. Unlike his brother, he’s a fool!”

“What will you do with the 3 million pounds now?”

“I have no choice!”

Castlereagh barked at Baron Fox.

“I must meet King Karl. I must instruct him to use it to recruit German mercenaries!”

The 3 million pounds originally intended for Metternich in the historical timeline.

Now, it would go to Karl.

However, Karl had not yet arrived in Dresden.

***

But the vanguard of the anti-French alliance, Prussia, was reeling from a sudden shock.

“Urgent news! Your Majesty the Kaiser!”

Friedrich von Kleist, the infantry commander of the Prussian army, burst in with the report.

“The vanguard of the French army has appeared in Berlin!”

“What? What are you saying? What army is advancing towards us!”

“The move towards Berlin is likely a feint. But it’s undeniable that we face the enemy in a vulnerable position!”

The man who styled himself Kaiser, Friedrich Wilhelm, was visibly disconcerted.

He had considered the possibility of Napoleon threatening Berlin.

But he dismissed it after receiving reports of the approaching army marching towards Dresden.

He anticipated engaging Napoleon here.

But Napoleon had, in fact, dispatched troops to Berlin.

The Prussian army currently numbers 140,000 men.

Of these, 70,000 are cavalry, a respectable force, though smaller than Napoleon’s.

The artillery consists of 50 cannons.

Seemingly adequate, but the combined number of cavalry and infantry is insufficient.

However, diverting forces is risky when Berlin is under threat.

Blücher sprang to his feet.

“Here, are we to divide the army? Absolutely not. That would spell our doom!”

“But we can’t abandon Berlin!”

“How far has the King of Hungary progressed? Kleist?”

Before Kleist could respond, Scharnhorst interjected urgently.

“He’s currently passing through the Kassel area!”

From Dresden to Kassel is 360 kilometers [approximately 224 miles].

Even with a forced march, it would take at least 10 days.

But could they hold out for 10 days?

Conversely, how did the enemy advance so swiftly while simultaneously feigning an attack on Berlin?

Marshal Blücher suddenly chuckled mirthlessly.

“Indeed, it’s Napoleon. Moving 200,000 troops at high speed is a challenge. So he’s employing the tactic of [Dust Concentration]!”

“Yes? What do you mean?”

“It’s irrelevant whether it’s Dresden or Berlin. Napoleon is advancing each corps separately!”

Blücher exclaimed as if addressing the entire Prussian General Staff.

“Therefore, if the enemy’s main force is identified, they will concentrate their attacks there! Sequentially, one by one!”

Attempting to save Berlin now is futile.

The corps heading towards Berlin will swiftly reinforce the main force if needed.

Furthermore, Napoleon will undoubtedly launch an attack before Hungary and the Rhine Confederation arrive.

Blücher abruptly turned to the Kaiser, who stood pale-faced.

“We must retreat.”

“Where to? To where the King of Hungary is stationed?”

“Your Majesty the Kaiser. We must emulate Napoleon. Like Napoleon, we must abandon the capital and prioritize the preservation of the army!”

But Kaiser Wilhelm shook his head.

“No, I can’t do that. But I can’t flee to Berlin with the enemy at our doorstep.”

The Kaiser addressed Blücher, who was on the verge of exploding with anger.

“Blücher, this is an imperial order. Defeat Napoleon’s army and proceed to Berlin!”

The Berlin rescue plan was, in reality, the worst possible option.

At least the Kaiser had avoided that pitfall.

Blücher recognized this, and suppressed his renewed plea for retreat.

“I understand, Your Majesty.”

As things stood, they had to hold out until Karl arrived.

***

In Bautzen, a small village near Dresden, the one-eyed marshal who had lost his country chuckled.

“You have made a foolish choice. Your Majesty the Kaiser. Hehehe! Just like the Tsar!”

The concept of so-called exiled generals was prevalent in this era.

This was due to the fact that, in the aftermath of the revolution, generals from various countries frequently sought refuge in other nations.

The one-eyed man, Kutuzov, residing in the Prussian camp, was one such example.

The one-armed chief of staff, Scharnhorst, responded with a wry smile.

“Don’t mock him, Marshal Kutuzov.”

“If you ask me if I have a secret plan, I don’t have one at the moment. Not until the British army arrives.”

“Our best course of action is to hold out until then, but it won’t be easy.”

Scharnhorst sighed and, with some difficulty, raised the telescope with his one hand, tilting his head.

“But, we can buy time here. Huh?”

The Grande Armée of Napoleon was approaching in the distance.

But instead of cavalry assaults or skirmisher reconnaissance, masses of iron were advancing first.

Cannons, being pulled by wagons.

“Is that a cannon? But it’s being transported by wagon?”

“It’s a hybrid of horse artillery and foot artillery. It appears they intend to initiate the battle with a bombardment.”

“That’s uncharacteristic of Napoleon. Isn’t that a centuries-old tactic? It’s been outdated since the great upheavals in France.”

As Scharnhorst pondered, Kutuzov shook his head.

“No, it’s effective enough when the numbers are overwhelming. I witnessed it at Borodino.”

In fact, it was a tactic that Kutuzov himself had ordered.

But was Napoleon attempting to replicate the same tactic?

However, employing Kutuzov’s artillery tactics required one crucial prerequisite.

Scharnhorst also identified that point.

“But how can France, without support from the home country, transport a large number of cannons to this remote location?”

“It’s possible if Napoleon employed one particular method.”

“What is it?”

Kutuzov frowned.

“Bringing all the Russian artillery.”

At that moment, blonde-haired ‘Ivans’ [a common Russian name], who looked unmistakably Russian, appeared, pulling cannons.

-Rumble!

The Russian Imperial Artillery.

Yermolov’s men appeared in Bautzen, in front of Dresden.