A winter in Smolensk, a sixth coalition TL

[Parmenion]

In 1812, Napoleon stood as the almost uncontested master of Europe. His former German enemies, Austria and Prussia, stood humiliated and all but vassalized by the French eagles, while Russia now stood in an alliance with Napoleon. There was still the bleeding ulcer of the Iberian peninsula, but that was of little concern to Napoleon by 1812. His main concern was the continental system, or more specifically its ineffectiveness. When he discovered that year that Russia had all but discarded the system (Which was simply due to the ruinous effect it was having on the Russian economy) The emperor was furious. Renouncing his friendship with Tsar Alexander, he prepared to bring his country back into the fold by force.

The forces assembled for such an undertaking were by a large margain the largest Europe had ever seen. Just under half a million men crossed the Neimen in late June, with many more reserve and support personel remaining behind. Generals Barclay and Bagration, supremely outnumbered, were forced to retreat. Almost immediately however, Napoleon's plan began to crumble. He'd entered Russia expecting an immediate battle with the Russian army, but instead, his lumbering beast of an army was forced to march through land razed bare by the reatreating forces. Cossack raids, typhus, and the summer heat, all wore down his inexperienced conscripts. The Russians did occasionally fight rearguard actions, the largest of which was at Smolensk in mid August, but the Grande Armée was too unwieldly to outmanuver them.

Several of Napoleon's Marshals advised him to halt the army at Smolensk, and continue the campaign next year, but he wouldn't hear it. The Emperor now hoped to force a peace by occupying the spritual heart of Russia, Moscow. At the same time, Alexander called up an old commander to face Napoleon, General Kutuzov. Wishing to avenge his famous defeat against Napoleon at Austerlitz, Kutuzov decided he'd make one stand outside Moscow, hoping to turn back the French tide. Deteachments and attrition now meant Napoleon barely had a numerical advantage, and Kutozov had ample time to prepare a defensive position. Less than a hundred miles from Moscow, the one eyed general would face off against the Corsican ogre one last time.

 

[Parmenion]

As the Grande Armée arrived on the 6th of September, it first cleared the forward redout at Sheverdino, which proved a worryingly bloody task. So few prisoners had been taken, a particularly troubling indication that the enemy's morale had not been broken. Marshal Davout, commander of I Corps, suggested outflanking the Russian positions. However Napoleon soundly denied this, partly because he thought it too risky, partly because he intended to destroy the Russian army here and now. By the next morning both forced had been deployed for battle, and an anxious night passed as the officers and men readied themselves for the carnage.

Napoleon's force numbered around 130,000 men, and 590 guns. His left flank was held by his stepson Eugéne's IV Corps, as well as General Grouchy's III Cavalry Corps. In the center, on the South bank of the Kalatsha was Junot's Westphalian VII Corps, Davout's I Corps, and Ney's III Corps. These were reinforced by three Cavalry Corps, under Nansouty, Latour, and Montbrun respectively. On the far right, Polish prince Poniatoski led his countrymen in V corps.

The Russian forces, while under the overall command of Kutozov with 120,000 men and 600 guns, were in fact part of two seperate armies. The North was held by General Barclay, with Baggovout's II Corps, Tolstoy's IV Corps, and Kaptzevich's VI Corps. His cavalry wing was formidable with three corps of conventional cavalry, as well as Platov's Cossacks. General Bagration held the left, as well as two major fortifications, the great redoubt in the center of the field, as the three Fleche (Arrows) in the South. He had under his command Tushkov's III Corps, Raievski's VII Corps, as well as Lavrov's guards in reserve, and a cavalry and Cossack Corps.

Kutuzov had planned to leave the tactical handling of the battle to his subordinates, but was forced to make on exception. Realizing that Napoleon would primarily fall on Bagration, he had Barclay send his right flank South, to act as a reserve. This decision would prove pivotal in the outcome of the battle. Napoleon wasn't very active either, partly due to the rough and confined area of the battlefield, preventing any grand manuvers. However the exhaustion of the campaign had also left him tired, and in no mood to command his forces. Whatever his reasons, Napoleon let his generals run the battle.

Shortly after dawn, Napoleon ordered the attack to begin. There were early successes, as V Corps advanced on the right towards the village of Utitza, and Eugéne cleared skirmishers from Borodino proper on the left. However, as the center advanced towards the Russian earthworks, they came under relentless russian fire. Despite being seriously wounded as his horse was killed under him, Marshal Davout led his corps uphill, managing to capture some of the earthworks. Bagration then personally led a counterattack, driving the French out. As Eugéne's artillery rained shells on the great redoubt, Russian casualties mounted.

By noon, little progress had been made in the center, despite the Poles taking Utitza to the south. IV Corps was forced to fend off an ambush by Platov, while Bagration and Barclay organized four Cavalry Corps into a massive attack on the French line. Murat gathered three Corps of his own, and led a massive duel on center flanks, as horsemen of all type and nationality clashed. Junot finally launched an attack on the great redoubt from the South, allowing Grouchy to get behind it from the North. Bagration led another counterattack, this time with grenadiers of the Russian Imperial Guard, and at the cost of his own life, managed to recapture it.

Throughout the day Napoleon received plea after plea from his generals, begging him to send in his own Imperial Guard. But the emperor, not wanting to destroy his last reserve, refused. By dusk, both sides were nearing exhuastion, and little progress had been made. The French cavalry was exhausted, their artillery running low on ammunition, but still the infantry hurled themselves into the Fleche, and each time were thrown back. As darkness finally ended the battle, both sides found themselves with around 40,000 casualties, but the Russian redoubts were still under their control. While there had been success on the flanks, Napoleon had failed to break Kutuzov. That night, Napoleon gave a rare order, his marshals were to meet with him, they had much to discuss...

(Note: The bold is the POD, Kutuzov never gave this order IOTL)

 

[Parmenion]

September 7th, 1812, 2200.​

Marshal Davout finally stumbled into Napoleon's tent, the last General to arrive. He was met with Marshals Berthier, Murat, Ney, Bessierres, Mortier, and Lefebvre. Junot, Eugéne, and Poniatowski also flanked the emperor. "By god, what's happened to you?" Napoleon remarked dryly "Sire..." Davout gasped "My horse was hit by a cannon, and I took a ball through the arm. I can't believe I'm alive" He wasn't lying, he was shocked the surgeon said that nothing was mortal. Nonetheless he felt like death "In any case, we'll need you up for this, you're all going back in at dawn." The faces of most men in the men in the room fell.

Seeming to either not notice or not care Napoleon stood and paced over to a freshly drawn sketch of the battlefield "I see I was wrong to hold back the guard, no matter." He gazed at the paleing generals. "First, we'll have every gun blast the earthworks before dawn, Lefebvre, you'll lead the center, Mortier following. Behind all that Ney and Davout will take the center Junot and Eugéne on the flanks. Bessieres, you and Murat will take the far flanks." Davout sharply inhaled "No, sire."

"Hmm?" Napoleon's expression didn't change, but his eyes shot over to the iron marshal. "Sire we lost the guard twice over today, they won't take it." "They will for me, they've done it before." "Not like this sire, I was in the thick of it. You'll destroy your guard, and we'll be having this conversation again tomarrow." "Anyone else?" Not a man would look their emperor in the eye "Well, I didn't invite you all here to kiss me, what would you suggest?" Deavout motioned to a chair, and at Napoleon's nod fell into it "Assuming sire, that your objective is still Moscow?" "It is." "Bypass the fortifications, take the old road to the South through utitza, and we can outflank Bagration." Napoleon shushed him "And have the whole Russian army fall on us as we do, no. As I said it is too risky but then, you make a good argument. What do the rest of you say?"

No general spoke, though some nodded "Well then..." poised Napoleon "If we can't take the positions by noon tomarrow, Davout, I'll support you." Dejected, the generals slinked out of the tent, as Berthier got to work turning battered regiments into companies, and preparing for more late nights of the same...

 

[Parmenion]

Napoleon was more attentive during the lead up to the second day of battle around Borodino. The scale of losses had been made more clear to him overnight, and he now understood that taking the fortifications would take more planning. Sleeping just two hours, he rose around 2am, and spent hours in the dark personally organizing a grand battery of 220 guns pointed at the fleche. Eugéne formed up his own battery of 60 guns, hoping to surpress the great redoubt for as long as possible. At 4am Napoleon ordered the bombardment to begin, many of the guns were still sighted correctly from yesterdays fighting, so despite the darkness accuracy was acceptable. Not only did this bombardment wake the Russians two hours earlier than the French, many overshooting and bouncing balls fell on troops bivouaced in the rear, one ball even tore through Barclay's tent while he slept, though he was unharmed.

The attack continued unopposed until dawn, when the Russian batteries began an uncoordinated counter barrage. The death of General Kutaisov the day prior meant that much of the Russian artillery was uncommited. Nonetheless Napoleon revised his plan slightly, hoping to crush the Russians here and now. Junot would advance through the woods South of the fleche, while Poniatowski kept up his advance, Ney and Davout would follow the guard to the fleche themselves, while Eugéne and Grouchy attacked the great redoubt. Between these two fortifcations, Bessiéres and Murat would lead all the available cavalry, to try and outflank the Russian positions.

By 8am, with the troops ready, the guard ate their breakfast at sheverdino, and marched sith the emperor to the battlefield. Morale was so low among the main army, that Marshal Ney reported five suicides that morning, and many of Davouts soldiers jeered at the intact and well groomed guard, who had no idea what they were marching into. At 8:45, Napoleon ordered the attack to begin, and the began its advance. The Russian artillery poured fire into the French ranks, but was again poorly coodinated, and the effect was at first minimal.

As the guard approached the fleche, light field guns loaded with case shot, and thousands of musketmen poured volleys into the packed ranks. The old guard briefly wavered, before Marshal Lefebvre urged them into the mass. Before long, three French and three Russian corps were rammed into one another, neither side yielding. In the South, V Corps was able to push back Tuchkov and the Moscow militia, but was caught off guard as a massive attack by Karpov's Cossacks forced them to fall back. In the North it was little better, as the Italian royal guard led an attack against the great redoubt that was thrown back with heavy losses.

By 10am the central fleche had been siezed, but repeated counterattacks caused casualties to soar. As Junot fought his way through Cossacks in the woods. Murat and Bessiéres led the guard cavalry, plus two other corps of horsemen, and charged into the fray. Platov and Korf led their cavalry in turn, and a massive whirling duel developed between the earthworks. The French and allied cavalry were able to beat back the Russian cavalry, but found nothing but squares of Russian infantry behind them. In an unusual manner of combat, some of these infantry supported a counterattack by Platov, and managed to wreak havoc on the French. Murat himself was dragged off his horse and nearly captured, before he was rescued by guard cavalry.

By noon, as little additional progress had been made, it was clear Napoleon did not have the strength to break the Russians. He kept up the attack anyway, but as the scale of damage to the imperial guard became clear, he finally ordered the attacks to stop at 1:45. To Davouts fury, he also recognized that outflanking the enemy was no longer possible either, as two Russian corps now stood on the old Smolensk road to the South. For another 35,000 French casualties and 30,000 Russian, Napoleon had achieved nothing.

 

[Parmenion]

September 8th, 1812, 2000​

Marshal Berthier was exhausted, and there seemed no end to the work before him. He was erasing regiments, shuffling companies of walking wounded. A hard fight always meant a bad night for the chief of staff, but this was worse. For months Berthier had masterminded the movement of a half million men, and watched as typhus and hunger ripped through them. Borodino was just faster, and he couldn t keep up.

"Well?" Napoleon paced his tent "Seems Eugéne made it out best, 10% casualties. Poniatowski lost 15%, his flank was chewed up. Ney Davout, Junot all took about 55% losses." "And my guard?" Asked Napoleon. "60% losses, I believe the old guard is down to two regiments" "Not my best play.." "No sire." Napoleon couldn't believe the guard had failed him. Maybe they're rusty... Napoleon thought They haven't been needed since Austerlitz, maybe I shouldn't have always held them back. In any case, there was work to do.

"Cavalry?" "1/3 casualties, but half the horses, beats me why. plus we'll need another quarter if you want to haul the wounded." "We can't stay here Berthier." The marshal nodded "No sire, we must winter in Smolensk, we can hold out there." Napoleon nodded as he continued to pace "We'll need to recall St Cyr and Oudinot, have them meet us there. Augereau needs to send in half his corps." "Half, sire?" "Yes we need to keep Prussia secure, keep our flanks secure. That means..." He quickly turned to face Berthier "Have Mortier replace Eugéne, and Bessiéres replace Murat. Send a message to the Rhine and Poland, we need more men." "Yes sire, and winter provisions?" Napoleon paused a moment "Oh yes, have Augereau send everthing we'll need. We leave tomarrow." As his aides scattered to carry this out his orders, Napoleon stepped out to see the stars

"And tell the empress she has my permission to pass the following conscription law in my absense..." Berthier growned, it would be a long night...

 

[Parmenion]

The day after the battle of Bordino, the Grande Armée collected its tens of thousands of wounded men, and began its withdrawl. Kutuzov's forces were just as shattered, and he was content to let the French go. Even Platov and the Cossacks held back due to losses, so despite the wagon train of wounded slowing them down, the army had an uneventful march back to Smolensk, arriving on the 20th of September. Marshal Murat and Eugéne left the army, as they planned to raise fresh troops from Italy to bolster Napoleon.

Smolensk was a massive supply depot, and allowed the famished conscripts of Napoleon's army to rest and eat, after months of constant marching. Many of the barracks and city buildings had been razed by the retreating Russians, and so many soldiers were quartered in the houses of the city itself. Napoleon left the cavalry and Mortier's Italians outside the city, to guard against the Cossacks. He also ordered all remaining civilians to leave the city, both to save supplies, and to hopefully tie up more Russian resources.

The army was still short on many supplies, including critically a shortage of medical care. Thousands of wounded men died in Smolensk, some surgeons even euthanizing the mortally wounded to save medicine. Discipline began to break down, as teenage soldiers found themselves living in the former mansions of dukes. Looting was rampent, as traumatized and exhausted soldiers had little else to do. There was another problem, by the start of October, the army had barely 85,000 men who could fight, about even with Kutozov. While Victor's IX Corps had added another 40,000, Admiral Chicagov was moving Northwest with 65,000 men, driving back Schwartzenberg and Reynier. Near Polotsk, Wittgenstein and 40,000 men outnumbered St Cyr and Oudinot two to one, and threatened to advance on Smolensk.

While the halting of the offensive and freeing up of ten thousand cavalry had somewhat helped the supply situation, Cossacks continued to clash with French wagon columns, while fatigue and starvation decimated the horses. Napoleon expected the Russians to be too depleted and disorganized to try and attack before winter, and for the first several weeks this seemed to be the case. But Kutuzov was biding his time, he planned to wait for his own army to recover somewhat, and then chase the French out as winter hit in force.

The remainder of September was quiet, and Napoleon settled in for the winter. His first winter clothes arrived, but he was shocked at how inadequate they were. As the campaign was expected to be over by now, none had been prepared. Augereau had tried to compensate by taking donations from Berlin (By lying and claiming they were going to the Prussian soldiers) but these cloaks and scarves weren't designed for a Russian winter, and so many soldiers once again turned to plunder.

Nobody knew it, but an entire Cossack division was swarming just outside Smolensk. Foraging parties had to number in the hundreds to be safe, and even then every day dozens went missing. The news got worse as October progressed. St Cyr was forced to abandon Polotsk, as Kutuzov gradually advanced on Smolensk. The situation was bad enough, Napoleon also got word from Paris. Rumors were swirling that Austriaband Prussia planned to rebel against him, and leave him trapped in Russia. There was little he could do, except have Augereau bolster the garrisons in Prussia. With his position increasingly unsteady, Napoleon got yet more worse news, that would force him to make a hard call...

 

[Parmenion]

Smolensk, October 6th, 1812​

"Berthier!!" The marshal was flung out of the first sleep he'd managed in two days, as the emperor stormed into his tent "Shit! Son of a Whore!!" That miserable fucking rat!" "Hmm?" Yawned Berthier, still trying to shake off his sleep. "'General' Malet tried to overthrow me! The balls!" "What? How?" "That idiotu told everyone I took a cannonball at Borodino, and bled out. And they believed that Bethier! They believed that!" "Well what's happening now?" Napoleon finally stopped to compose himself, he had to think.

"Well...it sounds like he's either dead, or bound to be, this all happened 18 days ago. But still...If the people believed that I was dead, I have a problem. I need to get back to Paris, need to reassure the people." Napoleon's mind began to race again, so many problems, all so far apart, and he was just one man. "Maybe it's for the best, I'll make sure the new troops are being raised, give the Rhine a kick in the ass to do the same." His eyes widened "But who do I leave in charge? Who?!" "Not to worry sire" Berthier soothed him "We'll sort this out."

Moments later, and Napoleon rapidly paced his chief of staff's desk "Poniatowski's out, I'm not trusting my army to a Pole." He needed someone who could manage a large force without direct orders from him "Not you" Napoleon chuckled "Not making that mistake twice" "Thank you sire" Berthier said ernestly "Ney?" "Maybe, he's not terrible, but he hasn't been given any large commands" "Bessiéres? He did well enough on his own in Spain" "That's true that's true. The troops like him, he'll be listened to. Mortier is just a hammer, he can't stand on his own. Lefebvre's too old, yes, yes we'll go with him."

"Very good sire." Said Berthier as he scrawled out something official sounding "When do you plan to depart?" "Hmm... Three days, get my cavalry to follow me out, the rest of the guard will stay." "Yes sire, and me?" "I'll keep you in you position, I'll manage in Paris alone." "Very good sire."

Meanwhile in Vyazma:​

"I'm telling you" General Barclay said as forcefully as he dared "Now is the time to surround them." He wasn't used to being the agressive one, Bagration had always been the one wanting to charge into the fray. But if Barclay was a coward then who knows what Kutuzov was "No general" he said plainly "Our army is too exhausted to confront them now, we need to wait another month at least." "There is no need." Barclay said, letting his frustration shine through "Chichagov and Wittgenstein can ensure we outnumber him two to one, at least."

"And as I made clear to you before Your excellency" Kutuzov brushed him aside "There is no need to confront him now. Winter will come for him, and than he'll have to run across open country in the cold. If Chichagov can't handle him then it's not my problem." Kutuzov saw a lot of angry generals, and backtracked slightly "But tell me general, you have an alternative?" "Yes" he stepped over to a large map of Russia. Barclay was already sick to death of his new superior, and missed his former critic dearly.

"We advance at once, and besiege Smolensk. We force him to fight on our terms, and either way he ends the day depleted and exhausted. The bonus is though, he has nowhere to run. We trap him or kill him, and the war is ours." "Blah!" spat Kutuzov "Far too risky. I think the late Bagration had some influence on you, too eager to kill our troops." Barclay silenced himself, but only barely...

 

[Parmenion]

Napoleon left his army on October 9th, taking his bodyguard and a few of his aides. The journey itself was at breakneck pace, first as spirt across the Russian countryside on starving horses. Napoleon had tried to disguise himself as a cavalry captain, but his unit was known to the Cossacks, who often fought intensely with the French. Napoleon himself had to lead the men out of Russia, which they accomplished in just 8 days, losing 30% of the men, and 900 horses. A week later he arrived in Paris to crowds of cheering civilians, many tearful with joy at proof of the emperor's survival.

After first disclosing the true losses in Russia to his ministers, Napoleon finally let the public learn as well. Rather then let the people be shocked into fear at these losses, their emperor stoked it into firey rage. He gave speeches denouncing Tsar Alexander and the Russians, and promised them revenge. With his public support reassured, he turned his attention to rebuilding the army. He found that Empress Marie-Louise had indeed passed his conscription laws, with 100,000 men already mobilized and training. He planned to add another 100,000 to that, but these wouldn't be conscripts.

30,000 men were swept out of Spain, while 15,000 marines were taken off their blockaded ships for field service. More than 50,000 men if the National Guard were transferred to the army, with Marshal Moncey raising more. Throughout Central Europe the emperor's vassels and clients did the same. The confederation of the Rhine was ordered to give him 200,000 men by spring, while Poland called up 80,000. Eugéne and Murat were able to promise another 70,000, but both were hanpered, Eugéne by lack of funds, and Murat by a seeming lack of urgency. Whatever the case Napoleon planned to build up a massive force, and essentially try to meet the Russians in battle again, wherever that may be.

The French position in Smolensk meanwhile, was precarious. Marshal Bessiéres had never commanded a full army before, and struggled to manage it. Saint Cyr and Oudinot, reinforced by Victor, were able to halt Wittgenstein at Polotsk. To the South, Schwarzenberg and Reynier defeated General Osten-Sacken, but were unable to prevent Chichagov advancing on Minsk. Just weeks into his new position, and Bessiéres faced his first calamity. With Kutuzov to the East, Wittgenstein to the North, and Sacken to the South, he would have to hold off all three armies.

The marshal reacted swiftly, leaving I Corps and the imperial guard as the garrison of Smolensk, he personally led most the cavalry (Now led by Grouchy, and reorganized into two corps) Ney's III Corps, and Poniatowski's Poles against Sacken. In the meantime, Junot's Westphalians and Mortiers Italians feign an advance East, hoping to delay Kutuzov. By now though, the temperature was beginning to drop, and the cold would soon hinder movements on both sides. Everyone was in a race of time, to beat the enemy before General Winter defeated all...

 

[Parmenion]

To His Majesty the King of Bavaria:​

It saddens me greatly sir, that you'll not have Marshal Lefebvre in command of your forces again, nonetheless this is your choice. I commend you on your selection of Field Marshal von Wrede however, he's a capable commander and a true Bavarian, I wish him all the success he can achieve. I'm quite satisfied with your new mobilization so far, and the Bavarian corps will be stronger than ever come Spring.

To The Viceroy of Italy (His eyes only)​

I'm proud my son, that you've handled yourself so competently these last few months, if only my dear brother was able to do the same. Continue your conscription as planned, but don't send everyone away just yet. I want you to provision and man every fort in Northern Italy, with militia if need be. I want 20,000 men on the Austrian border, should my dear father in-law get any... ambitions once again. My best wishes.

To my dear little sister Caroline:​

What is your husband doing? I've heard nothing of any conscription or mobilization for weeks, and he's ignored every message I've sent. I always believed you had the better head in your marriage, so please straighten him out, and tell him I'm not happy. Kiss your children for me, and send them my regards. Spare your heart and don't read the backside of this letter, that's for Joachim. In your thoughts, your brother Napoleon.

Murat!​

​

You fuck, what's the matter with you? What's your motive in hobbling me like this? I was very specific in my orders, and you've either ignored them or ignored me, neither of which I will tolerate further. Compose yourself, or I swear on my son I'll make your wife regent, she's more of a man than you. Your throne is merely an extension of my realm, don't forget who sat you upon it.

To my dear Prince Alexis:​

I weep for the suffering your actions have brought upon your subjects. I propose a generous peace, simply return to Austria what I gave you three years ago, and you shall have peace. We can be friends as we once were, I regret that our time in Tilsit did not abade this conflict. Please, see reason end this folly. He who saves his nation, violates no law.

 

[Parmenion]

By mid October, the French position in Russian was grim, and now the noose began to tighten. As Chichagov moved on the main road into Russia, Smolensk had its lines of communication cut on October 15th. Bessiéres and Ney were already on the move, and their 50,000 men were rested and decently fed, arriving in Minsk on the 22nd after a 12 day forced march. Here he met up with the exhausted but relatively intact Austrian corps, Schwarzenberg having fallen back due to being outnumbered.

Chichagov and his 60,000 men were now outnumbered, but for once the French had intelligence on their side. While Bessiéres had been hounded by Cossacks all the way, these reported to Kutuzov, and so Chichagov was often out of the loop on reports. He believed that Poniatowski was still in Smolensk, and so didn't expect as large a force. This, combined with an overestimation of French attrition, meant he marched into the fight overconfident and clueless. Bessiéres was little better, while he'd marched the men hard and managed to maintain discipline and morale, his shortcomings as an army commander were made more clear. As Berthier wrote to the emperor "He's about as skilled at commanding your army as I was, I see my faults plainly in him. He's reactive, indecisive, and his orders are more unclear than your majesties.

After a pause to rest and reorganize, the French army moved to confront Chichagov. At the village of Ozero, the two armies met for battle on the morning of the 26th. (Author's note: Wanted to include a google earth shot of the otl location, but it said the file was too big. Just look up Ozero, Belarus) The ground was flat and barren, the land deserted and picked over. Chichagov formed up his line west of the village, anchoring his left flank on the river Zhest, and his right on a pond next to Ozero. Bessiéres positioned his army on some light hills and villages to the North

Battle of Ozero order of battle, West to East​

Army of the Danube: Adm Chichagov​

2nd Corps: Gen Esssen​

4th Corps: Gen Bulatov​

1st Corps: Gen Langeron​

3rd Corps: Gen Voinov​

200 Guns​

Grande Armée: MdE Bessiéres​

V Corps: Gen Poniatowski​

Austrian Corps: Gen Schwarzenberg​

III Corps: MdE Ney​

Cavalry: Gen Grouchy​

II Cav Corps: Gen Nansouty​

I Cav Corps: Gen Montbrun​

269 Guns​

The battle began around 10am, as Chichagov began his attack on what he still believed was a smaller French force. The attack was pooly coordinated, as he gave each corps individual orders to attack, leading to delay. Worse still, his orders on where to attack were muddled and subjective, causing 2nd and 4th Corps to essentially march into eachother, right as they entered the French artillery range. Despite this setback, the Russians soon began a fierce attack against the French line.

Bessiéres wasn't doing much better, despite his numbers and position. He wanted to smash the Russians decisively, but went about it shoddily. His orders resulted in Ney and Schwarzenberg advancing off the high ground, right into the range of the Russians. Casualties were high on boths sides, as both commanders seemed to freeze up, letting their subordinates take charge. As the fighting progressed, by noon the French were advancing, but at a high cost. Ironically despite being a cavalryman himself Bessiéres made no initial attempt to use his cavalry, and Grouchy was left in the read for much of the day.

Finally, without waiting for orders, Grouchy led a charge with Nansouty's Corps on the Russian left. Chichagov's men were some if the most experienced in Russia, but even they began to waver. Chichagov ordered a general retreat, but again the orders led to disaster. With no proper rearguard, Langeron's corps was rolled up and all but destroyed by Ney. Bessiéres ordered a persuit with his remaining cavalry, and managed to inflict many more casualties on the fleeing enemy.

The battle of Ozero had been a confused, messy battle, with incompetance on both sides. The French lost around 20,000 casualties in the battle, to around 30,000 Russians (Of which 10,000 were prisoners). The fighting was as savage as Borodino, and the soldiers were not happy with their generals. "The battle of the blunderers" as it became known to soldiers on both sides, was as Ney said "The most asinine display of soldiering I ever saw.". Bessiéres would remain in Minsk, while to the East, more battles raged.

 

[Parmenion]

Marshal Mortier and General Junot left Smolensk on the 12th of October, with the goal of delaying Kutuzov. Kutuzov himself left Vyazma on the 10th, though his advance was much slower. The depleated Westphalian and Italian Corps numbered just 28,000 men, against 95,000 Russians. Kutuzov was well informed of Mortier's movements, but a misunderstanding in geography led him to believe the enemy was lagging a day behind where they actually were. Mortier had a much harder time with reconnaissance due to his shortage of Cavalry, but on the night of the 18th got lucky. Some of his light cavalry almost stumbled into the Russian camp at the town of Yartsevo, who hadn't realized how close Mortier was. Leading the men through the night, they fell upon the Russian sentries at dawn.

The Russians reacted slowly, Kutuzov wasn't even awoken until a 15 minutes after the ambush began. General Barclay, who was awake, realized that defending the camp would be folly, and had the men withdraw across the Reka Vop. Despite being under heavy artillery fire, Italian Velites looted the Russian camp, stealing horses and food, and spiking 60 guns. As Kutuzov realized the situation he had the Imperial guard cross the river, while ordering all the cavalry to outflank the enemy. By 10am the Russian and French allied armies were arriving on the West bank of the river in force, but the Russians were three times as large. Realizing that he wasn't likely to acheive much else, Mortier began the retreat.

The Cossacks were merciless in their pursuit, which in turn led to heavy casualties for the horsemen as the Italians and Germans formed square and absorbed the attack. At 11:30 in the final moments of the battle, General Junot leading the men and defending a square, was shot by friendly fire in the confused mass of and horses. Barclay had wanted their infantry to pursue as well, but Kutuzov refused, fearing they were too low on ammunition. Casualties were light, about 2,000 Italo-Germans to 5,000 Russians, though the Russians lost 2/3rds of their ammo.

Months later, Napoleon gave Junot the unique honor of a posthumous promotion to Marshal, as well as the title Prince of Yartsevo. The Russians stayed another week in Yartsevo, despite pleas from Barclay and increasingly furious letters from Tsar Alexander. At the slow pace of the Russian advance, the tsar finally removed Kutuzov, and handed his rule over to Barclay. After a moment to reorganize he sent out a series of commands to his new subordinates, he had a plan. Wittgenstein and Chichagov would advance to tie up the French reserve, while Barclay's own force charged into Smolensk. The Grandé Armée would be isolated and destroyed, and their would be nothing between them and Berlin or Vienna. The next battles would be some of the most brutal, and savage of the entire Napoleonic wars.

 

[Parmenion]

The week the Russians stayed at Yartsevo was enough for Bessiéres to be informed of the situation, but not long enough to send any forces back. Leaving Ney in command of his Western forces, the Marshal personally rode to Smolensk to help defend the city. Barclay, who took command of all Russisn forces on October 25th, immediately had his army march on Smolensk, believing Mortier's was the only enemy force between him and the city. This wasn't strictly true however.

Marshal Saint Cyr and his Bavarian VI Corps had been garrisoned in the city, about 17,000 strong. Additionally, about 10,000 or so surviving members of the Imperial guard had been stationed there to recuperate after the losses at Borodino. Between this and Mortiers troops, the French had about 53,000 men and 400 guns, facing nearly 100,000 russians and 600 guns. Saint Cyr hadn't been idle in his position however, and had spent the last few weeks preparing for a possible siege. Rationing was strictly enforced, the fortress guns were put into position, and earthworks constructed outside the walls.

Smolensk itself was a fortress town, and was surrounded by a solid medieval wall. The battle in August had caused some damage, but the northern section (Which the Russians were approaching) was largely intact. Saint Cyr had planned to keep most of his troops outside the walls, and Bessiéres agreed when he arrived.

(Map of the August battl
Barclay didn't plan on laying siege, however. He planned to smash through Smolensk's walls, and rout the French, forcing them to retreat across open country, or die trying. That being so his advance was "Bagrationesque" as Saint Cyr himself said, advancing on Smolensk in just two days. Bessiéres arrived on the 26th, just a day ahead of the Russians. Wanting to force Barclay into engaging, the marshal had Mortier and what was left of the Westphalians positioned outside the Northern wall.

On the morning of the 27th, General Platov's Cossacks arrived on the outskirts of the city. Bessiéres personally led the guard cavalry and any surviving horsemen to confront them, and a skirmish broke out. The French soon retreated and the Cossacks chased them towards Smolensk. As they approached the city, the Cossacks came under massive fire from Mortier's Italians. Having entrenched themselves and from hidden positions in the buildings of Smolensk, they inflicted terrible losses on the Russians, who pulled out of town to wait for Barclay to arrive.

As he did so around Noon, Barclay ordered three infantry corps to attack the city, and had his guns open fire on the walls. For once however, the Russian weather was on the side of the French. A miserable cold rain began, turning the approaches to Smolensk to mud. The Russian attackers slammed into the Italo-German positions, but they held on. French artillery poured into the Russian collumns, but they continued to advance nonetheless. Mortier led his men in counterattack, being wounded twice as his men gradually yielded ground.

The walls of Smolensk held up against the Russian field guns, and now chasseurs of the old guard used them, raining fire down on the enemy infantry. Finally as the Russian guards joined the attack, the French allies routed, streaming back into the city. As the enemy forces pursued, Saint Cyr and Bessiéres led the Bavarian corps and the guard in a massive melee, both sides struggling to control the Northern gate. Russian horse artillery and French fortress guns exchanged canister shot at point blank range, shot and shrapnal pouring into the troops of both sides.

The fighting continued until dark, as the Russians slowly worked their way through the city house by house, each one made into another battle hy the french. As darkness fell and the French looked to be massing for a counterattack, Barclay finally bowed to the inevitable and ordered a retreat. Without the numbers to properly siege such a fortress, Barclay instead had his army make camp just outside the city, hoping to chase them down should a retreat be attempted. Losses were heavy on both sides, 15,000 French to 25,000 Russians, with many wounded falling to malnutrition, disease, or the cold.

Wittgenstein attacked a day later at Polotsk, and drove out French. Marshal Oudinot was blown off his horse by a shell, smashing his head on a cannon. He survived but was seeiously concussed, and he and Marshal Victor began a retreat to Smolensk. With winter coming and neither side backing down, the campaign's greatest trials lay ahead...

 

[Parmenion]

Tuileries Palace, November 1st, 1812​

"Right now, Moncey, Kellermann, what's the story?" The men poured through their papers in one frantic moment, before the elder Kellermann finally cleared his throat to speak "Well training of the conscripts in going well, considering most of them are young enough to be my great grandchildren" Napoleon smirked "That's not saying much anymore is it?" "No sire." chuckled the old marshal. "In any case, desertions have been minimal, and despite most of them being right outside Paris and Mainz, there hasn't been much in the way of misbehavior." "Good good" Napoleon nodded "Morale?" "Holding up better than I hoped, I think seeing your majesty's together very much inspired them."

Napoleon smiled at that "I heard the recruits have started calling themselves Marie-Louise's, true?" "Well I did sign the laws that put them in uniform" His wife smiled "Plus..." Butted in Moncey "They're young and raw, much like your.." The Empress blushed, and the Emperor scowled at Moncey "Anyway... The national guard conversions are going well. Their march discipline is terrible, but they'll fight like demons should they get the chance." "Hmm..." Napoleon once again got lost in his labyrinth of a mind. "Good, this is good. Clarke, give me a full tally."

The Minister of War wrote something down "Looks like between the guard and the Marie-Louises, we should have 200,000 men ready to march by spring, and another 150 by summer. That's in addition to 20,000 from Spain, and 15,000 marines." "Not bad" Napoleon remarked "Not bad at all. Old Alexander will have his head spin when he sees what I've created." Clarke looked down "Sire, do you really think it wise to cling to Smolensk like this?" "Leave strategy to me Clarke, there's a reason you're commanding a chair." Bonaparte said bluntly "Bessiéres is smart, he'll hold out till the sun dies if I command it."

Meanwhile in Smolensk...​

"I think we need to withdraw from Smolensk." Marshal Bessiéres said to the assembled men. Not only had Bethier followed him to join Mortier and Saint Cyr, but Davout had arrived from his position in the South, while Oudinot had returned to the city to recover from his concussion, which was an ongoing process. Saint Cyr nodded "Agreed, Minsk is far more secure. As it is we're dangling our ass over the fire." Mortier stood "But the Emperor made his orders very clear, we were to winter in Smolensk"

"And the Emperor isn't here. If we withdraw now, we can hold out in Minsk with little trouble. If we wait, we'll have to retreat through the worst cold you'll ever find in Europe." "What we really need to do!" Oudinot slurred "Is get some tanks!" Everyone stared at the man "I serve the Soviet Union, and we need our tanks!" Bessiéres broke the silence "Nicholas, what the fuck are you talking about?" "I'm talking about crushing the nazi's!!! You damn Balt!" "Ok..." Mortier said "Go see Doctor Larrey, you need to lie down." Oudinot nodded, did a Roman salute, and marched out of the room "What the hell is a tank?" quipped Davout "No clue, anyway does anyone object, on any grounds besides going against his Majesty's orders?" Nobody spoke "Right then, we march in three days." Outside, it began to snow heavily...

 

[Parmenion]

On November 4th, the main body of the Grande Armée began its retreat toawards Minsk. With Davout's I Corps and Saint Cyr's Bavarians forming the rearguard, the French column marched into the Russian countryside. Barclay pursued, and before long both armies were in a race against time to reach the city. The weather turned worse, as one of the coldest winters in Russian history began to settle over the land. Very few soldiers had received their winter clothing, and soon they began to take dratic measures. Many dead from both sides were stripped, in some cases even wounded men were stripped naked and left to freeze, while other troops robbed the already suffering Russian peasants of whatever they had.

Before long the French became increasingly strung out, as many soldiers ignored their officers, and abandoned their units. Barclay kept up the pursuit, but Davout and Saint Cyr were able to fight several sharp rearguard actions, such as at Krasny on the 7th. In two days of desperate fighting, Mortier and the recently recovered Oudinot had to turn about to assist in holding back the Russians, which they did at the cost of 15,000 casualties. Oudinot was yet again seriously wounded, but his actions saved perhaps have the army from destruction.

At the front of the column the last of the French and allied cavalry from Smolensk (Mostly guard cavalry and a handful of ad hoc squadrons) Had to contend with hordes of Cossacks, who hoped to trap the French against one of the rivers they'd have to cross to reach Minsk. However in a standup battle against hardened cuirassiers and dragoons, the lightly armed and unarmored Cossacks were often driven off with heavy losses.

At Borisov, Barclay and Wittgenstein made a final attempt to crush the French, and very nearly suceeded. As the the entire army tried to cross the single bridge over the Berezina river, the Russians hurled themselves at the town with desperate courage. Oudinot and Mortier formed the rearguard, and in the two days it took for the soldiers and stragglers of the strung out force to cross, held the bridge before withdrawing and burning it on the 12th.

Three days later, the exhausted French finally reached Minsk, the 60,000 or so men who had left Minsk and Polotsk having been reduced to 30,000, with another 10,000 stragglers following. They were at least now joined by Ney, Poniatowski, and Grouchy, who had more fresh troops, as well as Augereau's winter supplies. As the cold turned even worse, Barclay decided to be more cautious, as many of his own conscripts were suffering terribly in the cold. This did grant him the ire of the Tsar, but Barclay for once had support from an old critic, General Kutuzov. Having been made the Tsar's new Minister of land forces (Essentially Minister of war) he was now the closest thing the Tsar had to a direct military advisor. He supported Barclay's caution for once, as well as the firing of Admiral Chichagov, who was replaced by General Bennigsen. With the French holed up in Minsk, it was decided to let General Winter go to work...

 

[Parmenion]

Borisov, November 17th, 1812​

General Barclay sat in his chilly office in Borisov, considering his options. Bessiéres has to be about to crumble he thought, Strike now and he'll freeze in Poland. Then he turned to face out his window, where on the freezing streets, teenage conscripts shivered as they struggled to stay at attention. But these poor kids won't make it, they'll all be dead by tomarrow if we march out. The Russians may have been on their own soil, but they weren't immune to the cold either. Winter clothes were either insufficient, or just hadn't arrived at all, it was a debacle to say the least. Just then he heard the door open

His chief of staff General Yermelov stepped in, and quickly saluted, his face grim "Sorry sir, but bad news." "Oh am I fired?" Barclay said, almost sounding hopefull "Worse, sir" "Arrested?" He asked, now allowing himself to be a bit concerned "Kutuzov is coming sir, and worse still..." Barclay all but collapsed "What could be worse than that?" "The Tsar is accompanying him." "Lord have mercy!" Barclay cried, exasperated. "Here..." His took a pistol from his desk "It's less painful than having to deal with both of them." "Sorry sir, you'll have to tell the French that, we can let those two completely run things again" "I need a fucking drink, join me?" "Gladly sir."

Meanwhile in Milan​

Eugéne de Beauharnais and his secretary of war Fontanelli were in for another long night, there was still much to be done. "I know it seems premature." Eugéne said to his secretary "But I think getting the siege works at Mantua now is worthwhile, it'll give the conscripts something to do when they aren't training." His secretary nodded, as he did calculations in his head "Very well, between that and the other fortresses... We're looking at 20,000 fortress troops, plus 10,000 in the field." "And how many does that leave us to send the Emperor?"

"Uh..." The secretary poured through his papers, the dim candlelight was killing him "About 15,000 by Spring." "That'll have to do then. We'll send a division to Spain, they're gonna need it if I'm right." "Very good sir." Just then a messenger was invited in, he was clearly in a hurry "Sorry sir's, but the secretary of the interior intercepted a message from His Majesty King Gioacchino. He says it's of interest to you." Eugéne groaned "What's that pretty boy up to now?" As read the not, his expression began to change. First he was confused, than he was shocked, then he was furious. "The Emperor isn't going to be happy" He said "Get it to him at once."

Meanwhile in the Berlin Palace​

King Frederick William III and his ministers had a special guest that night, and all were anxious to hear him out. There had been dinner, some idle chit chat that nobody really cared about, now it was time for business. "I'll be blunt, your majesty" Metternich said "Napoleon cannot be trusted, and he'll bring all of Europe down if we let him." The king paled, he was afraid it would be about this "You understand my nation's position "I do, and I really don't care." Metternich said bluntly "Of course freeing Europe will be bloody, but it's going to happen."

"You sound very sure of that." Replied the king "Bonaparte is a monster, and a monster that controls half of Europe. If we betray him and fail-" "You think he's afraid to betray his allies? Look at Alexander, the two of them were practically lovers." "Still, he has thousands of men in my forts. If I declare war on him now he'll turn Berlin into his personal latrine." Metternich stood to leave "In six months Alexander will be in Berlin. Whether he's a conqueror or a liberator is your decision. Good evening" The king of Prussia watched as his guest left, as terror filled his heart.

 

[Parmenion]

Tuileries Palace, November 22nd, 1812​

"And how do you want the Germans distributed sire?" Secretary Clarke asked "I promised Bavaria and Saxony a corps each, we'll incorperate their survivors in Russia into them. The rest we'll mix in at the divisional level with our own troops, keep them under a close eye. I don't want a German army, I want an Army of Germany, one that isn't too German." "Yes sire." His secretary scrawled out the orders. "Between that and the Italians, we're looking at every corps being 30 perfent or so foreign." "That's fine, that's fine." Napoleon brushed him off. "That'll be enough, most of them don't hate me, yet." The Emperor was always restless in Paris, he preferred the campaign.

"Tell Soult and Clauzel to press the attack, drive Wellington back to Portugal." "If you say so sire" an aide rushed into the room. After whispering something to the Secretary, he told Napoleon "Sire, The Viceroy of Italy has donated a division to serve in Spain, and has a note for you personally." "Does he? Let me see." As he scanned the letter, he was shocked, griefed, and enraged. He would not stand this. "I'm sorry, but I must go to Italy." The Empress frowned "To make my nephews orphans, perhaps." Napoleon replied, his voice breaking.

 

[Parmenion]

By late November 1812, the armies of both great Empires were stuck in place. The cold meant horses were either eaten, or stuck in chilly stables until Spring. Soldiers on both sides were more concerned with finding proper clothing and shelter, than with fighting. Ironically for the first time, the cold likely hit the Russiansworse than the French, as the former were crowded into and around the smaller town of Borisov. Supplies had to be tightly rationed by both sides, as the cold also meant that wagons couldn't get far before their horses froze.

While the Cossacks were finally forced to let up, the cold did a far better job of interrupting the French supplies than they ever could. Minsk became a freezing, smelly, miserable encampment, where 60,000 soldiers huddled around their barracks for any source of heat. Many soldiers unwittingly poisoned themseleves with carbon monoxide, as they lit fires in unventinated buildings. On the 5th of December the Grande Armée recieived 10,000 reinforcements, that Marshal Augereau had finally marched up from Berlin.

While Napoleon was infuriated when he learned Bessiéres had abandoned Smolensk, he was in little position to do anything about it. With more pressing concerns in Italy and with much to do still in Paris, he decided to leave Bessiéres in command for the time being. The Russians were still mobilizing and training new recruits, so both sides expected a massive confrontation come Spring.

To the far North, Marshal Macdonald was finally forced to abandon any hope of besieging Riga, and began his own retreat back to Prussia. Here though the first worrying signs of desent among Napoleons allies were spotted, General Yorck and his Prussian division, left without orders and returned to Prussia alone. Macdonald was surprised, but still managed to get the men safely to Danzig, where General Rapp took charge. The Marshal himself returned to France to await another assignment.

This was in fact a problem Napoleon was fast discovering, he was short on marshals. Between Spain soaking up several of his best, and the rest still in Minsk, he was low on candidates to command his new army. This shortage would lead him to consider some old comrades...

 

[Parmenion]

Naples, December 2nd, 1812​

King Murat sat in the throne room of his palace, deeply engrossed by his work. In this case, his work was reviewing some of the designs for his royal guard's uniforms. He was eager to make certain his best soldiers truely commanded respect, and looked professional in the field. His wife Caroline Bonaparte, couldn't care less as she sat next to him, as she struggled to hide his boredom "Hmm." Murat said as he reviewed a grenadier "It needs more gold tassel, and don't be afraid to ad brighter colors. Those really make the men pop, they'll look more imposing." The designer nodded, when a guard hurriedly rushed into the room "Your majesty..." He said out of breath "The Emperor Napoleon has arrived!"

Napoleon came without a carraige or a sizable entourage, he and a few other men were on horseback. With little time to prepare, Murat and his queen stood and bowed, as Napoleon wordlessly marched across the room. He met his brother in-law, and before the king could say anything his master pounced, striding right up to the face of the king. "Brother...?" Queen Caroline asked, sensing the rage that simmered under the emperor's visage.

Suddenly he moved, and in a fluid motion Napoleon snatched Murat's marshals baton from his belt. Without a moments pause he brought the baton down hard on Murat's scalp sending him crashing to the floor. In an instant Napoleon was on him, laying blow after blow into his face with baton and fist alike. "Napoleone!!! Napoleone!!!" Caroline cried as she was the only one brave enough to try and break the men up, to no avail "Tu l'ammazzerai!!" She screamed in her native tongue as her brother finally ran out of steam.

"You!" He spat with so much venom that several courtiers backed away "You sold me out. You ungrateful little prissy shit!" "Napoleon." Caroline said, more firm now "Please, what has happened?" Napoleon almost keeled over as the exertion caught up with him "Your shit stain of a husband tried turn against me, which I take it you didn't know." He pulled a letter from his coat, and handed it to her "Joachim... Why?" Was all she could say, as finally her composure broke and tears began to stain her face.

"I should have you boiled for your treachery." Napoleon said bluntly "But I'm a forgiving man." He thought for a long moment. "You'll abdicate in favor of your son, and I'll do what I promised "Nuh..nuh." Was all Murat could choke out through shattered teeth and a mouth full of blood. "Caroline." He turned to face his sister "I'm appointing you regent of Naples until your eldest son is of age." She gasped "I trust you to lead the Neapolitan people, and to support France and me. You're more of a man than your husband, so.." He turned and raised his voice so all could hear him "I expect all of you to obey my sister as you would obey me." No one said a word

"Now, General Murat... As much as it makes me sick to say it, I'll need you this spring. So pick your sorry ass up and join me in Milan by next month. After that you're never to step foot in this kingdom again. Now, I'm off to give this baton to a more deserving man. Good day." Napoleon marched back out ofbthe palace wordlessly, and Murat, covered in blood and spittle, began to weep.

 

[Parmenion]

Marseille, December 15th, 1812​

"Sir?" A butler asked as his master tended a fireplace "What is it?" Marshal Masséna replied "I'm sorry to disturb you, but The Emperor is in your parlour, he'd like to speak to you." The marshal shot up, he hadn't been expecting guests at all, let alone his old boss "Break out the good vintage" he said quickly "Tell him I'll be down as soon as I'm dressed." His butler bowed and left, as Masséna hastily got into uniform. Why would he visit now, doesn't he have better things to do than ream my ass some more? He thought.

Minutes later the two old comrades were sipping wine and making small talk. Messéna was surprised at this, it wasn't like Napoleon to waste time. But today the Emperor was in a nostalgic mood, and time was spent reminiscing about Castiglione, Arcole, all the youthful glory of the Italian campaign. Finally the marshal broke the mood "I dare not to be a bad host for my Emperor, but to what do I owe this honor?" Only now did he notice the marks on Napoleon's knuckles "Been in a fight lately, sire?" He asked with a bit of cheek.

Napoleon nodded "I had the pleasure of practicing dentistry on my 'dear' brother in-law." He chucked bitterly "Murat?" Masséna sat up "Let me guess, pretty boy panicked and tried to turn coat?" Napoleon smiled "Sharp as ever, Prince of Essling, my sister has taken over for the time being." "She'll be good at that sort of work" "Mmm." "You still haven't told me why you're here, with all due respect, out with it sire."

The emperor stood and began to pace the room "You may have disgraced yourself in Portugal, but that was one humiliation after 15 years of glorious service. You're still the dear child of victory, Masséna, but you got spoiled is all. I've given up far too much to those who betrayed me, you're many things, but you're no traitor. I'll need good men in Russia, and you're one of the few I can rely on, will you serve with me again?" The Emperor held out his hand, and the marshal thought for a very long moment "I accept, Sire." And shook hands with his old friend.

 

[Parmenion]

Winter Place, St. Petersburg, December 20th, 1812​

All the fireplaces and candles did little to warm the frigid halls of the Russian palace, as the guests from Britain shivered under four coats while awaiting the rest of their company for the afternoon. Next to the vacant throne sat Russian Chancellor Nikolay Rumyantsev. "I do apologize for the cold." The chancellor said "I know you have no need to acclimate to this ridiculous chill." Lord Castlereagh remained stone faced "For matters of this importance we'd have swam naked in the Baltic." His nation's ambassador to Russian Sir Edward Thornton, nodded.

The chancellor laughed "Careful, you sound like a Scandinavian." "Speaking of which" Castlereagh said "When can we expect the rest of our guests?" The Russian frowned "Who's to say" he shrugged "I don't expect a Swede, real or adopted to be punctual. Metternich has no such excuse." After a few more awkward minutes of small talk, the Ausrian minister arrived "Greetings all!" he said in French "Such a shame we must speak the language of the devils if we are to communicate." Bernadotte followed in, red faced, right as he said that.

After a few minutes of exchanging pleasentries, the meeting commenced "On behalf of the Tsar" Said the chancellor "I would like to formally propose the formation of a sixth coalition against France." Everyone in the room nodded "Furthermore." he looked down and frowned "The Tsar believes that since Russia has contributed more blood and commitment against France than any other European state, that Russia should be the senior partner of said coalition."

Bernadotte scoffed "What the Tsar means to say, is that he'd like us all to kiss his chest while he carves up Europe like a cabbage." "I wouldn't speak that way about a sovereign while you stand in his throne room." Rumyantsev curtly shot back "Especially someone who's own sovereign probably can't even wipe himself." Castlereagh and Sir Edward shared an awkward look "You'll get your due, all of you, but we need to cooperate for that." Now Castlereagh pounced.

"I couldn't agree more, which is why it confuses me that only half the men in this room stand as enemies of France." Metternich retorted "You say that like you'd be eager to fight if the channel vanished." "Don't you still have soldiers fighting for the boneyman?" Metternich turned red "Yes" Rumyantsev joined in "In fact, you're technically still our enemy, would be quite a shame if I had you arrested." "Fine, we'll get them out of there." "Good, but that still it remains to be seen when you'll actually join the coalition."

"As I made clear already." Metternich said "As soon as we have assurances from Prussia." "And when will they join?" Metternich mumbled "As soon as they have our assurances." "Unbelievable." Rumyantsev said "Germans." Castlereagh agreed. It was clear as the meeting progressed that this alliance would come about, but it would be one of necessity...