Chapter One
Welcome, all. So, after five years and a ton of ideas taken up and discarded in my head, I've finally decided to get off my ass and put something down on paper for the first time. And so, I came up with a Napoleon timeline. That was a long time ago, actually, back before we started getting quite a few of them running around, but I intend to go different places than those, and I hope to stick with this longer than most, so there's that, too.
This one will start in 1805 and end about 1950 or so, and I've at least got some ideas for where to go that whole stretch, although they'll be subject to change as seems reasonable given the butterflies and all. Since it's my first timeline, it'll probably have a rocky start, but I'll appreciate any feedback you guys have to make it seem realistic. Within reason, since I'll probably default to broader strokes in the end. With all that said, let's begin.
Much of the scholarship surrounding the French Revolution and the wars that followed tends to focus on the years 1805 and 1806. There are several reasons for this: for connoisseurs of tactics, the campaigns against Austria, Russia, and Prussia showcased the Grande Armée and its commander at their zenith in terms of skill and maneuver. That is why Ulm and Austerlitz and Erfurt remain popular case studies at war colleges to this day. For French nationalists, there has never been so great a display of their nation’s military might than in these two years, when their Emperor confronted the other Great Powers of the Continent and triumphed. And for allohistorical enthusiasts, the missteps of the Third Coalition are more glaring than those of any other set of Napoleon’s rivals. Because of this, they see abundant opportunities for better decision-making, resulting in any number of alternative worlds.
All of these differing emphases stem from a greater truth, of course: namely, that at no other point in the Napoleonic Wars did the Emperor face such daunting odds, and come as close to total ruin as he did in the late Fall and early Winter of 1805. The stunning French victory at Ulm left the road to Vienna open, allowing the Austrian capital to be captured with scarcely a shot fired. Despite the magnitude of this achievement, however, Napoleon soon found himself the victim of his own success, for on November 2nd, not two weeks after the surrender at Mack’s army at Ulm, the Kingdom of Prussia officially joined the Third Coalition, declaring war on France. [1] With the Prussian army beginning to mobilize, reaching a peak strength of 200,000 men in early 1806, it became imperative for Napoleon to defeat the Austrian and Russian forces in front of him in order to turn north and face the new threat.
This proved a frustratingly difficult task, however. Although Napoleon’s corps commanders were able to interpose themselves between Mikhail Kutuzov’s force and the sanctuary of Prussian territory, preventing him from joining up with the forces being raised there, the Russian general managed to escape east instead. [2] Deceptive diplomacy and delaying actions from Generals Kutuzov and Bagration stalled the French pursuit long enough for a combined Russo-Austrian force to take up defensive positions at Olmutz. There, they would wait for more reinforcements, as well as for the Prussian army to finish mobilization and advance south, to envelop the French with the weight of overwhelming numbers.
Had this strategy been adhered to, it is difficult to envision a French victory in the campaign. Olmutz was a well-fortified city, and a siege would only buy time for the Prussians to arrive and turn the tables. It was at this time that Napoleon made use of his signature talent, to turn his many enemies against each other, and against themselves. Kutuzov could not be lulled into deviating from the Allied plan – if anything, he would have preferred abandoning Olmutz for an even more secure position.
The same could not be said of the young Tsar Alexander, who had accompanied the Allied army and was eager to confront his French counterpart. Napoleon opted to conceal portions of his own army to accentuate its apparent vulnerability, leave the remainder seemingly vulnerable to an attack, all the while sending out peace feelers to his enemies and feigning nervousness. The true masterstroke in this charade came during an interview the Emperor had with one of the Tsar’s envoys, where he let slip a remark about how he feared to face the might of the Prussian army. The Russian diplomat dutifully relayed this tidbit to his master along with his general impressions, and Tsar Alexander snapped at the bait, suddenly quite conscious of the importance of besting the French army quickly, lest the Prussians arrive and claim credit for the victory.
The result of Alexander’s bout of impetuousness was the Battle of Austerlitz, which remains among the most well-documented battles in history. The resounding French victory spelled the end of Austria’s participation in the Third Coalition, but the greater strategic difficulty remained. To make matters worse, the remnants of the Russian army escaped again, eventually succeeding in reaching Prussian territory and rendezvousing with Prussian forces. For his part, Napoleon decided it would be foolish to face the Coalition forces again so soon, and withdrew into friendly Bavaria to wait out the winter and resupply. Once his men were rested and reinforced, he could resume the offensive.
Prussian passivity during this period is puzzling to some observers. The sluggish mobilization of their army prevented them from interceding during the Austerlitz campaign, but even after their forces were ready, Frederick William’s forces made few moves to openly contest the French. A small force was dispatched to Dresden to coerce the Kingdom of Saxony into joining the Coalition, but otherwise, no other moves were made during the winter months. Mindful as they were not to allow another defeat in detail, the Prussians intended to fight defensively, drawing French forces into their own territory and, with the help of steady reinforcements from Russia, wear them down through attrition. As such, the Allied attempt to avoid repeating the mistake of Austerlitz handed the initiative back to the French, and in early February, Napoleon struck.
The 1806 campaign demonstrated the strength and ferocity of French arms even more than the previous year had, as the Grande Armée outmaneuvered slower Prussian forces and methodically picked apart their defenses. The reasons for the poor Prussian performance have been expounded on at great length in the years since, but most of the problems boil down to a lack of initiative at all levels of the Prussian army. The Prussians had yet to adopt permanent corps or divisions, making effective combined arms tactics difficult to execute. The Prussian high command, despite having a general strategic vision laid out for the campaign, dithered over details, and reacted slowly to developments. On an individual level, the age of the Prussian officers, and, at least in the case of the Duke of Brunswick, borderline defeatism, also took its toll on the Prussian ability to react vigorously to the French offensive. All told, the army remained mired in the antiquated methods of the 18th Century, like a creature frozen in amber, and just as lethargic.
Napoleon’s army pushed into Saxony first, driving back token Coalition resistance, before finally meeting the bulk of the Duke of Brunswick’s army at Erfurt. The decisive victory there set the Prussians reeling, retreating across the Elbe to regroup. This did them little good, because not only were French forces at their heels, but the Emperor had also made use of the winter lull to cultivate allies in the Prussian rear. Led by Jan Henryk Dąbrowski, a renowned Polish general in the service of the French, the people of Poland seized the moment to rise up against their Prussian and Russian occupiers. By February 15th, Poznan and Kalisz were in flames.
As well-led and executed as this insurgency was, however, the timing was mishandled, as Napoleon had urged Dąbrowski to commence his uprising with all haste. Although the Prussians had already suffered serious reverses, the Duke of Brunswick managed to extricate his troops in reasonably good order. [3] This complication, combined with the inflow of Russian troops to aid their Coalition partner, as well as the inopportune capture of General Dąbrowski by a Prussian patrol while travelling between cities, all contributed to the downfall of the Polish rebellion, which was put down after three weeks of heavy fighting.
As February gave way to March, Napoleon continued his efforts to disperse the Prussian army and drive it eastwards. This proved slower going than the first month’s offensives, as fatigue began to take its toll on the French forces, but the Allied strategy of relying on Russian reinforcements had been stymied by the unrest in Poland, which forced a reallocation of manpower to restore order. As such, the superior mobility and flexibility of the French army made its mark. On March 20th, Berlin fell into in French hands, and by mid-April, a vigorous campaign in East Prussia saw the remains of Prussian and Russian resistance routed, finally forcing the two kingdoms to sue for peace.
The failure of the Greater Poland uprising is often overlooked, because of its resemblances to abortive Polish revolts both before and afterwards. However, this one carried a greater significance in the form of the potential that was lost when it was suppressed, and its leaders executed. The promises Napoleon made to Dąbrowski need to be taken with some degree of skepticism, but it seems that he was mulling the idea of restoring Poland, both as a source of troops and as a buffer between his rivals in Prussia and Russia.
The death of Dąbrowski, combined with the failure of the Polish rebels led the Emperor to reconsider his options. If a revived Polish state was unviable, than buying the Tsar's future cooperation might yield better results. So when Napoleon invited Frederick William and Alexander to Tilsit to negotiate peace terms, he came with a framework that would guide the course of European politics for over a century.
[1] This is, of course, the POD. Frederick William seemed to play a will he, won’t he game through a lot of 1805 and 1806 before finally deciding on war, so making the jump sooner isn’t a huge stretch. We can say it’s a panicked reaction to the Austrian defenses crumbling so quickly. Of course, the POD is only an indirect means to what I really wanted to get at here.
[2] Here you can see that I’m kind of struggling with figuring out how an altered campaign should work, so I compensate by leaving some of the finer details vague. It’s important for Napoleon to try and snuff out Kutuzov just like OTL, of course, and he winds up failing like OTL, but here he also needs to worry about the Russians maybe escaping into allied territory, so I just have Napoleon rewrite some marching orders accordingly to try and prevent that. This same lack of expertise also means that my timelines for campaigns might not make a ton of sense, so I invite whatever input you guys have on dates and such.
[3] This is really what I wanted to build towards. From what he said on the subject, Napoleon would likely have abandoned the Poles if the 1806 uprising failed. My problem was that it was well-planned, well-led, well-executed, and the Prussians were already clearly screwed when it began, so I couldn’t just magic it into failure. Hence, the POD, which turns the OTL campaign on its head and forces some hasty re-adjustments on Napoleon’s part.
He hastily calls for the Poles to rise, if only to buy himself extra time, and between that and the altered Coalition strategy, there are enough reserves around to put down the rebels. And because of butterflies, Brunswick doesn’t die in battle like OTL, so he provides more steady leadership during this period. From that defeat, Napoleon’s new plan is the most logical course of action given his short-term interests. If Poland’s a no-go, he’ll try harder to bribe Alexander. And you guys get to see what that involves in Chapter Two.
This one will start in 1805 and end about 1950 or so, and I've at least got some ideas for where to go that whole stretch, although they'll be subject to change as seems reasonable given the butterflies and all. Since it's my first timeline, it'll probably have a rocky start, but I'll appreciate any feedback you guys have to make it seem realistic. Within reason, since I'll probably default to broader strokes in the end. With all that said, let's begin.
Chapter One: A New Europe
Excerpted from The Founding of Modern Europe by Ronald Hansen, 1978.
Much of the scholarship surrounding the French Revolution and the wars that followed tends to focus on the years 1805 and 1806. There are several reasons for this: for connoisseurs of tactics, the campaigns against Austria, Russia, and Prussia showcased the Grande Armée and its commander at their zenith in terms of skill and maneuver. That is why Ulm and Austerlitz and Erfurt remain popular case studies at war colleges to this day. For French nationalists, there has never been so great a display of their nation’s military might than in these two years, when their Emperor confronted the other Great Powers of the Continent and triumphed. And for allohistorical enthusiasts, the missteps of the Third Coalition are more glaring than those of any other set of Napoleon’s rivals. Because of this, they see abundant opportunities for better decision-making, resulting in any number of alternative worlds.
All of these differing emphases stem from a greater truth, of course: namely, that at no other point in the Napoleonic Wars did the Emperor face such daunting odds, and come as close to total ruin as he did in the late Fall and early Winter of 1805. The stunning French victory at Ulm left the road to Vienna open, allowing the Austrian capital to be captured with scarcely a shot fired. Despite the magnitude of this achievement, however, Napoleon soon found himself the victim of his own success, for on November 2nd, not two weeks after the surrender at Mack’s army at Ulm, the Kingdom of Prussia officially joined the Third Coalition, declaring war on France. [1] With the Prussian army beginning to mobilize, reaching a peak strength of 200,000 men in early 1806, it became imperative for Napoleon to defeat the Austrian and Russian forces in front of him in order to turn north and face the new threat.
This proved a frustratingly difficult task, however. Although Napoleon’s corps commanders were able to interpose themselves between Mikhail Kutuzov’s force and the sanctuary of Prussian territory, preventing him from joining up with the forces being raised there, the Russian general managed to escape east instead. [2] Deceptive diplomacy and delaying actions from Generals Kutuzov and Bagration stalled the French pursuit long enough for a combined Russo-Austrian force to take up defensive positions at Olmutz. There, they would wait for more reinforcements, as well as for the Prussian army to finish mobilization and advance south, to envelop the French with the weight of overwhelming numbers.
Had this strategy been adhered to, it is difficult to envision a French victory in the campaign. Olmutz was a well-fortified city, and a siege would only buy time for the Prussians to arrive and turn the tables. It was at this time that Napoleon made use of his signature talent, to turn his many enemies against each other, and against themselves. Kutuzov could not be lulled into deviating from the Allied plan – if anything, he would have preferred abandoning Olmutz for an even more secure position.
The same could not be said of the young Tsar Alexander, who had accompanied the Allied army and was eager to confront his French counterpart. Napoleon opted to conceal portions of his own army to accentuate its apparent vulnerability, leave the remainder seemingly vulnerable to an attack, all the while sending out peace feelers to his enemies and feigning nervousness. The true masterstroke in this charade came during an interview the Emperor had with one of the Tsar’s envoys, where he let slip a remark about how he feared to face the might of the Prussian army. The Russian diplomat dutifully relayed this tidbit to his master along with his general impressions, and Tsar Alexander snapped at the bait, suddenly quite conscious of the importance of besting the French army quickly, lest the Prussians arrive and claim credit for the victory.
The result of Alexander’s bout of impetuousness was the Battle of Austerlitz, which remains among the most well-documented battles in history. The resounding French victory spelled the end of Austria’s participation in the Third Coalition, but the greater strategic difficulty remained. To make matters worse, the remnants of the Russian army escaped again, eventually succeeding in reaching Prussian territory and rendezvousing with Prussian forces. For his part, Napoleon decided it would be foolish to face the Coalition forces again so soon, and withdrew into friendly Bavaria to wait out the winter and resupply. Once his men were rested and reinforced, he could resume the offensive.
Prussian passivity during this period is puzzling to some observers. The sluggish mobilization of their army prevented them from interceding during the Austerlitz campaign, but even after their forces were ready, Frederick William’s forces made few moves to openly contest the French. A small force was dispatched to Dresden to coerce the Kingdom of Saxony into joining the Coalition, but otherwise, no other moves were made during the winter months. Mindful as they were not to allow another defeat in detail, the Prussians intended to fight defensively, drawing French forces into their own territory and, with the help of steady reinforcements from Russia, wear them down through attrition. As such, the Allied attempt to avoid repeating the mistake of Austerlitz handed the initiative back to the French, and in early February, Napoleon struck.
The 1806 campaign demonstrated the strength and ferocity of French arms even more than the previous year had, as the Grande Armée outmaneuvered slower Prussian forces and methodically picked apart their defenses. The reasons for the poor Prussian performance have been expounded on at great length in the years since, but most of the problems boil down to a lack of initiative at all levels of the Prussian army. The Prussians had yet to adopt permanent corps or divisions, making effective combined arms tactics difficult to execute. The Prussian high command, despite having a general strategic vision laid out for the campaign, dithered over details, and reacted slowly to developments. On an individual level, the age of the Prussian officers, and, at least in the case of the Duke of Brunswick, borderline defeatism, also took its toll on the Prussian ability to react vigorously to the French offensive. All told, the army remained mired in the antiquated methods of the 18th Century, like a creature frozen in amber, and just as lethargic.
Napoleon’s army pushed into Saxony first, driving back token Coalition resistance, before finally meeting the bulk of the Duke of Brunswick’s army at Erfurt. The decisive victory there set the Prussians reeling, retreating across the Elbe to regroup. This did them little good, because not only were French forces at their heels, but the Emperor had also made use of the winter lull to cultivate allies in the Prussian rear. Led by Jan Henryk Dąbrowski, a renowned Polish general in the service of the French, the people of Poland seized the moment to rise up against their Prussian and Russian occupiers. By February 15th, Poznan and Kalisz were in flames.
As well-led and executed as this insurgency was, however, the timing was mishandled, as Napoleon had urged Dąbrowski to commence his uprising with all haste. Although the Prussians had already suffered serious reverses, the Duke of Brunswick managed to extricate his troops in reasonably good order. [3] This complication, combined with the inflow of Russian troops to aid their Coalition partner, as well as the inopportune capture of General Dąbrowski by a Prussian patrol while travelling between cities, all contributed to the downfall of the Polish rebellion, which was put down after three weeks of heavy fighting.
As February gave way to March, Napoleon continued his efforts to disperse the Prussian army and drive it eastwards. This proved slower going than the first month’s offensives, as fatigue began to take its toll on the French forces, but the Allied strategy of relying on Russian reinforcements had been stymied by the unrest in Poland, which forced a reallocation of manpower to restore order. As such, the superior mobility and flexibility of the French army made its mark. On March 20th, Berlin fell into in French hands, and by mid-April, a vigorous campaign in East Prussia saw the remains of Prussian and Russian resistance routed, finally forcing the two kingdoms to sue for peace.
The failure of the Greater Poland uprising is often overlooked, because of its resemblances to abortive Polish revolts both before and afterwards. However, this one carried a greater significance in the form of the potential that was lost when it was suppressed, and its leaders executed. The promises Napoleon made to Dąbrowski need to be taken with some degree of skepticism, but it seems that he was mulling the idea of restoring Poland, both as a source of troops and as a buffer between his rivals in Prussia and Russia.
The death of Dąbrowski, combined with the failure of the Polish rebels led the Emperor to reconsider his options. If a revived Polish state was unviable, than buying the Tsar's future cooperation might yield better results. So when Napoleon invited Frederick William and Alexander to Tilsit to negotiate peace terms, he came with a framework that would guide the course of European politics for over a century.
[1] This is, of course, the POD. Frederick William seemed to play a will he, won’t he game through a lot of 1805 and 1806 before finally deciding on war, so making the jump sooner isn’t a huge stretch. We can say it’s a panicked reaction to the Austrian defenses crumbling so quickly. Of course, the POD is only an indirect means to what I really wanted to get at here.
[2] Here you can see that I’m kind of struggling with figuring out how an altered campaign should work, so I compensate by leaving some of the finer details vague. It’s important for Napoleon to try and snuff out Kutuzov just like OTL, of course, and he winds up failing like OTL, but here he also needs to worry about the Russians maybe escaping into allied territory, so I just have Napoleon rewrite some marching orders accordingly to try and prevent that. This same lack of expertise also means that my timelines for campaigns might not make a ton of sense, so I invite whatever input you guys have on dates and such.
[3] This is really what I wanted to build towards. From what he said on the subject, Napoleon would likely have abandoned the Poles if the 1806 uprising failed. My problem was that it was well-planned, well-led, well-executed, and the Prussians were already clearly screwed when it began, so I couldn’t just magic it into failure. Hence, the POD, which turns the OTL campaign on its head and forces some hasty re-adjustments on Napoleon’s part.
He hastily calls for the Poles to rise, if only to buy himself extra time, and between that and the altered Coalition strategy, there are enough reserves around to put down the rebels. And because of butterflies, Brunswick doesn’t die in battle like OTL, so he provides more steady leadership during this period. From that defeat, Napoleon’s new plan is the most logical course of action given his short-term interests. If Poland’s a no-go, he’ll try harder to bribe Alexander. And you guys get to see what that involves in Chapter Two.
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