#miot de mélito

[josefavomjaaga]

Hi Josefa!

I've been scrolling through your stuff on Eugene and the impression I'm getting is that he was mediocre??

Of course, that's probably not all that is to him but he seems to be rather normal if anything so much so that I may not recognise him if he ever appeared in front of me. Is he just someone that is overshadowed by the more powerful personalities? Or is there something else to it?

Although reading about his sweet family life is pretty cute 🥰

Hi and thank you for the Ask! 💖

And I think you got it perfectly right. As a matter of fact "mediocre" is precisely the expression Joseph Bonaparte used for him in his memoirs (and if there's ever been an expert on mediocrity, it's Joseph). According to Joseph's friend Miot de Mélito so did Napoleon himself at the beginning of the Empire. In the "Mémorial de Sainte Hélène" Napoleon phrases it differently by saying that the only thing that made Eugène special was a certain balance in his character: He knew what he could do, and he did it. That already sufficed to distinguish him from plenty of others.

Eugène clearly was not a genius like Napoleon, not a romantic or tragic hero like Murat or Lannes or Ney or Junot, not even an imposing general like Davout or Soult. He was your regular run-of-the-mill guy, Monsieur What's-his-face, washed up by events to a rank he would otherwise never have occupied, like all of Napoleon's family, but - unlike Napoleon's brothers - very aware of this and trying to do his best to merit his position.

That's why I can relate to him much better than to the more prominent figures of the era. People like Lannes, Soult or Murat, let alone Napoleon, will always remain a mystery to me precisely because they are heroes and thus have so little in common with me. I fail to truly understand how they "tick". But somebody whom his stepfather's maelstrom has pulled, without his own doing, possibly even against his own will, out into a churning ocean and who now desperately tries to keep his head over water with the bit of force he has - that is something I can understand.

As to his "legacy" (or rather lack thereof) - some is due to the fact that his family pretty much was swallowed up by others over the next generation. His older son died without issue, the younger became a kind of prince consort to a daughter of the Russian tsar. Eugène enjoyed some prominence during the Second Empire, but as the Second Empire and Napoleon III have a pretty bad name in history, I'm not sure if that did him much good. I understand his name was all but forgotten in Northern Italy until recently.

During the Empire, at least up to 1809, this may have been much different. But with 19th century historiography focusing on the Napoleonic legend and the "big events", the role that Eugène may have played in the eyes of many contemporaries can barely be detected anymore. There's only the occasional hint of his high position, like the panic of Oudinot's ladies when they are suddenly to meet him, or the confusing rumours in the army in Austria 1809. Kérautret in his biography of Eugène emphasizes that Eugène, up to the birth of the "Roi de Rome", indeed was the only high functionary with a unique title. There's plenty of ministers and "grand officiers", plenty of marshals, a bunch of kings - but only one viceroy. And that's how Eugène is usually referred to in contemporary writings. The Viceroy. The second-in-command - or at least that's what some people may have read into it. If you add that, from all of Napoleon's family, he was the only one to govern the territory entrusted to him to Napoleon's satisfaction (well, as much as Napoleon would ever be satisfied with anything) and that he at least had some reputation within the army, him being seen as the future of the empire gains some credibility.

Because you do not consitute a stable empire (or any other state) through people like Napoleon (or Murat, or Junot, etc). For that, you need the stuffy, trusty second and third-in-line workers. If you want something to last, you want boring, reliable, grey.

But, coming back to Eugène, the one thing he really had going for him, the one thing that I first noticed about him, was his amiability. From contemporary sources up to the preface of volume 9 of Napoleon's "Correspondance Générale", everybody seems to agree that he was one of if not the most lovable figure of the Napoleonic saga. In historic sources, it's almost like another title: "Davout, the Duke of Auerstedt, Masséna, the Prince of Essling, Soult, the Duke of Dalmatia - and the prince Eugène. Such a nice guy!" 😁

Sorry for rambling so much - I'm always so excited when somebody notices "the boy", despite his lack of colourfulness. 😁

Thanks again for the question!

[josefavomjaaga]

This post reminded me of one of Napoleon's rants against his brother, as reported by Joseph's close co-worker Miot de Mélito. This took place in early 1806, after Joseph had already been nominated King of Naples. As Joseph had given Napoleon hell over the crown to the Kingdom of Italy, before finally refusing, Napoleon probably feared similar difficulties in Joseph's new destination. So he told Miot de Mélito:

You will leave to join my brother. You will tell him that I am making him King of Naples, that he will remain Grand Elector and that I am not changing anything in his relations with France.

Which I take to mean that Joseph would keep his French citizenship and his succession rights to the crown of France (this had been the reason why Joseph had refused the crown of the Kingdom of Italy the year before). The title of grand électeur was mostly interesting due the huge salary attached to it. Always an important point for Joseph.

But be sure to tell him that the slightest hesitation, the slightest uncertainty will cost him everything. I have, in the secret of my bosom, someone ready to take his place if he refuses. I will call him Napoleon; he will be my son. It was my brother's conduct at Saint-Cloud, his refusal to accept the crown of Italy, that made me name Eugène my son.

Which had driven the Bonaparte brothers nuts and probably had been Napoleon's main reason for doing it in the first place, considering that Eugène was a 24-year-old cavalryman with no interest in politics at all, who would keep whining to everybody who would listen about wanting to go home to Paris...

I am resolved to give the same title to another, if he forces me to do so again. All feelings of affection now give way to reasons of State.I only recognise as relatives those who serve me. It is not to the name of Bonaparte that my fortune is attached to, but to the name of Napoleon. It is with my fingers and my pen that I make children. Today I can only love those whom I esteem. All the ties, all the childhood relationships, Joseph must forget. He needs to make himself esteemed! May he win glory! May he break a leg in the war! then I will esteem him. May he give up all his old ideas! May he no longer fear fatigue! It is only by despising it and indulging in it that one becomes something, not by chasing hares in Morfontaine. As for me, look at the campaign I've just been on, the agitation and movement have made me fat. I think that if all the kings of Europe joined forces against me, I would get a ridiculous belly.

If he really said that, it was prophetic. 😋

I don’t have younger siblings but if I did I would be pissed if one of them overthrew the republic I live in and declared himself emperor and made me call him “sire” and shit. Joseph Bonaparte should’ve assassinated Napoleon. For several reasons

[histoireettralala]

An Emperor

"The discovery of Cadoudal's royalist plot hastened the completion of a project that had been on Bonaparte's mind for some time. The First Consul had long pushed for constitutional changes to consolidate his power. He was successful in obtaining the consulship for life, and in August 1802 he claimed the right to name his own successor. It was becoming increasingly clear to many contemporaries that the palaces of the Tuileries and St. Cloud were no longer the seat of a republican government, but rather the court of a new sovereign. "Severe etiquette prevailed there ", observed André François Miot de Mélito, a senior official at the ministry of war. "Officers attached to the person, prescribed honors paid to the ladies, a privileged family; in short, everything except the name of Consul was monarchical, and that name was destined soon to disappear." For a Prussian envoy, it was becoming clear that Bonaparte wanted to be "a second Charlemagne ", and that there was "no doubt that he has a plan, it is just the timing that has yet to be decided." Bonaparte's decision to establish the Légion d'Honneur, the highest civil and military award France could bestow on its citizens, caused consternation among the republicans, who accused him of creating a new nobility. As early as June 1802 the Russian ambassador was convinced that the French republic was on its last breath and that Bonaparte would soon take the title of " Emperor of the Gauls."

The plots to kill Bonaparte stirred public fears that his death might lead to political turmoil or even the restoration of the Bourbon monarchy. Bonaparte used the Cadoudal conspiracy to impress upon the French that his life, and consequently their well-being, was in perpetual danger, which in turn helped him attain general consent for the transformation of the life consulate into a hereditary empire. His earlier efforts to solidify power had provoked considerable resistance, but in the wake of Cadoudal's conspiracy and the duke's execution, public protest was negligible, as the timid feared Bonaparte's wrath and the ambitious sought to benefit from the new regime. On May 2, 1804, the legislative bodies passed three motions that proclaimed Bonaparte emperor of the French republic, recognized this title as hereditary within the Bonaparte family, and called for protection of "Equality, Liberty and the rights of the people in their entirety." On May 18 the Senate officially proclaimed empire in a senatus consultum. Four days later, registered voters took part in a plebiscite designed to create an illusion of popular support for imperial rule and, casting individually signed ballots, approved- with a vote of 3,524,000 to 2,579- what was already a fait accompli. Georges Cadoudal, upon being told about these developments, remarked from a prison cell, "We have done more than we hoped to do. We meant to give France a king, but we have given her an emperor."

On December 2, 1804, an imperial coronation ceremony was held at the great Cathedral of Notre-Dame in Paris. Napoleon, as we shall henceforth refer to Bonaparte, had made careful preparations for this event, studying in detail and adapting rituals of the ancien régime. Pope Pius VII, whom Napoleon compelled to travel from Rome to Paris to attend the ceremony, occupied a seat of honor but was otherwise relegated to the sideline. Though he appeared to bless the emperor, he did not, in fact, crown him. In a prearranged move, Napoleon took the crown from the hands of the pope and crowned himself. With one hand holding a crown and another resting on his sword, the new ruler of France was intent on demonstrating that he was a self-made man who owed his powers to no one but himself. Napoleon's choice of imperial regalia- his crown, scepter, and hand of justice were styled after symbols that were believed to be Emperor Charlemagne's - also underscored his desire to show that he was not the successor of the Bourbons but an emperor in his own right."

Alexander Mikaberidze- The Napoleonic Wars, A Global History

[josefavomjaaga]

That one time, when Soult accused Joseph of treason… (Part 2)

… happened in 1812, when Joseph – as related in part 1 - after the defeat of Salamanca, without much further ado, demanded that Soult and his armée du Midi retreat entirely from Andalusia and give up almost half of the territory Joseph nominally was in possession of, in order to take up position in northern Spain, close to Madrid. As Soult simply could not understand the reasoning behind this, he suspected Joseph might be in negotiations with the insurgents (which he was) and follow a plan behind Napoleon’s back (which he did not): Give up some of the territory the French army had conquered, and be recognized as king by the Spanish insurgents, or the British, in return.

In his memoirs, Soult does acknowledge that he was mistaken in this (which is probably as close to an apology as you will ever get from Soult). As he puts it:

The king's correspondence with the Emperor, nowadays published, makes it clear, by a host of passages, which was then the king's fixed idea. He had persuaded himself, probably under the influence of the small number of Spaniards attached to his fortune, that Spain was entirely ready to give herself to him. He was separated from "his people" only by the presence of the French armies. He was convinced that, if he were left alone with the Spaniards, his government would soon be loved by them. He claimed that he alone could win them over to France as friends and allies.

And as Joseph, unfortunately, did not keep these sentiments to himself but on several occasions talked loudly and publicly about them, this understandably caused some consternation among the French generals and soldiers who every day had to put their life on the line against British and Spanish forces in order to keep this ungrateful prick His Majesty José the Almost-Spanish-One on the throne.

Soult, being one of them, felt so apprehensive that he actually shared his suspicion with six of his generals, after having made them swear that they would only share this secret if it became necessary.

At this point, we can yield the floor to one of Joseph’s closest friends, Miot de Mélito, who tells the same story in his memoirs from Joseph’s point of view:

The meeting in question had, in fact, taken place at Seville, at the moment of the departure of the army. A person who was present gave me the following particulars. The Marshal, after receiving the oaths of the assembled officers that they would not divulge what he was about to communicate to them, stated that having resolved on obeying the orders he had received to evacuate Andalusia, he thought it right to inform them of the alarm with which those orders had inspired him. He could not conceal that he regarded this proceeding as a kind of treason towards the Emperor, for, by the withdrawal of the Army of the South, perhaps even to the Ebro, which he suspected was intended, the whole of Spain would be placed in the power of the Cortes and the Regency. That no doubt the King had foreseen the consequences of the step, but that he had persisted in it, because it was, in fact, in the interests of a prince who was bent, at all costs, on conciliating the Spaniards, and who intended even to place himself in their hands, hoping that they would preserve his crown to him as a reward for delivering them from the French. "For my part," added the Marshal, "being convinced, as a general, that the whole forces of the English could not drive out the Army of the South, and equally convinced, as the faithful subject of the Emperor, that it was to his advantage to retain that wealthy province, I made every possible effort to withstand a decision so contrary to his interests. With this view I even proposed to the King to come into Andalusia, and unite his forces to mine. My efforts were made in vain, and my proposals were declined. It now only remains for me to obey, and I should have done so in silence, if the fears I have just laid before you were the outcome of my own observation only. But they are confirmed by the reports I receive from Cadiz, which speak of negotiations between the King and the Cortes. As these reports may be known to you, I have thought it my duty to inform the Duke of Feltre of the state of affairs, and also to communicate them to the chiefs of the army. I trust this statement will prove to you that in carrying out the reiterated and absolute orders of the commander-in-chief of all the French troops in Spain, I am, at least, neither the instrument of designs which he may have formed. as King, nor willing to serve those designs."

That’s basically Soult saying: Last time they accused me of being a King Nicolas, this time they may very well accuse me of serving one!

After Soult had shared his suspicions with his generals, he sat down and wrote two letters: one to Joseph, declaring that he would obey and lead the army out of Analusia, and one to his superior in Paris, the minister of war Clarke, informing him of what had happened, of Joseph’s incomprehensible insistence to withdraw from Andalusia, of his close contacts with the Junta in Cadiz, etc.

The letter to Clarke was not sent via Madrid but by boat. And because everything in the Napoleonic Empire has to happen like in a really bad comedy show, that vessel had to take refuge from British ships in the harbour close to Valencia, from where all dispatches were sent to Joseph. Who had them opened, and read them.

And now the shit hit the fan.

[josefavomjaaga]

The truth and nothing but the truth...

… is how I wished historiography worked. In reality, stuff is so hard to figure out. Sorry if this yet another rant but I’m so often out of my wits these days. Just as an example, one of the questions that contemporary historians already could not decide upon was: Who was responsible for Cadiz?

Context: After all the setbacks during 1809 the battle of Ocana in November 1809 had stabilized Joseph’s situation as King of Spain somewhat. (That battle, by the way, historians today seem to credit Soult for, who was in overall command, whereas at the time the victory was attributed to Mortier and Joseph.) The Spanish army had been routed, Wellington hastily retreated towards Portugal, the Junta of Sevilla, leading the insurrection against the French invasion, lost lots of credit, and the francophile party got the upper hand.

In this situation, Joseph saw an opportunity to occupy southern Spain, i.e., Andalusia, capturing both Sevilla, seat of the insurrectional junta, and Cadiz, a strategic port and almost impregnable fortress that would later become so important as a bridgehead for British forces. Joseph and his aides in their memoirs point out how this campaign had been Joseph’s very own idea, and how he had to convince a hesitating Soult about it, who in the absence of orders by Napoleon even demanded a written order from Joseph.

Except that at the time contemporaries (both French ambassador Laforest and Napoleon’s police spy Lagarde) had the impression that this was in truth Soult’s brain child, and that he had only spoon fed the idea of an Andalusian invasion to Joseph. They added that Soult was taking with him all his belongings as if he planned for a very long stay away from the capital and that he was obviously extremely happy to get Joseph out of Madrid and onto this campaign, where Joseph would be totally at Soult’s mercy and Soult the only one in charge.

Whereas Soult at the same time wrote home to his wife that he was hoping for a brief campaign and that then he would finally get his congé, leave for Paris and see his family again. (Which would also explain a somewhat less sour expression on the face of Monsieur de Maréchal.)

Anyway. Whoever came up with the idea: In January 1810, the French army, with both Joseph and Soult at its head, set out for Andalusia. All went fine, barely any resistance, Joseph even met with some enthusiasm on the way – and then, at some point, they had to decide where to go: Sevilla, the capital, or Cadiz, before the rebels had the time to fortify it and lock themselves up behind its impregnable walls?

Let’s first hear general Bigarré, one of Joseph’s aides-de-camp:

Some author of the "Victoires et Conquêtes", who every time he had to speak about King Joseph did so with indecent bitterness, still blames him, in the account he gives of the Andalusian expedition, for the delay that the French army incurred in marching on Cadiz.

I can attest, as a witness of what happened at that time, that the king was on the contrary strongly of the opinion that one should make the corps of Marshal Mortier march to the Isle of Leon, without waiting for the result of the course of General Sébastiani on Malaga. But Marshal Soult and General Dessoles, who had a say in the matter, represented to His Majesty that one could not without imprudence pass further forward, without having previously subjected Seville, Granada and Malaga. The advice of these two generals prevailed over the king's opinion, and it was agreed that we would wait until these three cities were occupied by our troops before directing a column to Cadiz.

Well, that’s pretty clear. Bigarré’s tale is supported by the memoirs of Miot de Mélito, another of Joseph’s close co-workers and another eye witness. He relates that Joseph and his staff reached Carmona on January 30 and stayed there for a day, during which time the decision was made to march on to Sevilla instead of Cadiz. After having explained why it would have been so much more important to take on Cadiz first, he resumes:

These reflections, which were easy to make, were made, but were not listened to. The same error that led to the failure of all our operations in Spain was again the cause of this irreparable fault. One believed to find in Seville the end of the war, as, a year before, one had believed to find it in Madrid, and one was so persuaded that the goal and the fruit of the expedition were in Seville, that being at dinner at the king's house in Carmona, with his ministers and several generals, I heard Marshal Soult declare himself highly in favour of the march on Seville and say: "Let somebody account for Sevilla, and I will account for Cadiz! [Qu’on me réponde de Séville, et je réponds de Cadiz! - Not convinced I got the meaning of this entirely correct.]" - The event has only too well proved the error into which this clever general had fallen.

There we have it. The two of them do not quite agree on the reason for this fatal decision (extreme military caution or a misjudgement about the importance of taking the capital) but one thing they make clear: Soult’s at fault.

And finally, from the "Souvenirs sur Joseph Bonaparte" by Joseph's former page Abel Hugo (that's the brother of writer Victor Hugo, in case somebody wondered):

The king wanted to end the war, he was of the opinion to march on Cadiz; the major-general [Soult] opted to enter Seville first. The marshal had for him the authority of a great military reputation and the secret sympathies of the generals, whom the prolongation of the war made masters of the Spanish provinces. He brought the majority of the council round to his opinion, saying: "Let me take Seville, and I will answer for Cadiz." [A slightly different wording from what Miot had heard.] The king was obliged to yield, in the conviction, however, that his opinion was better than that of the marshal.

The only thing I would dispute here is in how far Joseph was "obliged to yield"; he was the king, after all, and could have insisted on his plan, like he allegedly had - as Hugo relates in great detail only a couple of pages earlier - insisted on starting the Andalusian campaign in the first place, in opposition to what Soult suggested. But I digress.

Let’s hear the other side then. What do Soult’s boys have to say about this in his defence?

Unfortunately, nothing at all. Saint-Chamans, for once, does not take a side, he merely laments that three full days were lost in discussions about where to go first. Petiet is too furious about Soult at this point to notice any such military trifles – after all, Soult had just withheld a gratification from his aides that Joseph had meant to give them! (This sounds like a fun story in itself that I have to look into more 😁.) And Brun was on a mission in Paris to congratulate Napoleon on his divorce and remarriage and only joined the marshal again after the events. The only one to claim that Soult had been the one who suggested Cadiz should be occupied first is – Soult himself in his memoirs.

For once, everything seems totally obvious. It’s a clear 3 – 0 result in favour of Joseph. Sorry, Monsieur le Maréchal, this one is on you.

If it was not for a letter that Nicole Gotteri apparently dug up from the war archives, for her biography of Soult. It’s dated Cordoba, 26 January 1810 (i.e., some days before the discussions in Carmona that Miot and Hugo described), and written by Soult to his fellow marshal Victor:

[…] You will direct yourselves with the first army corps on the first of these two cities [Seville]; but, when you are in Carmona, you will send a strong reconnaissance to make sure of the disposition of the inhabitants, and if it appears to you that in Sevilla they do not wish to resist in any way, but on the contrary want to yield to you, you will take possession of it by a few regiments and a piquet of cavalry [...]. Once these arrangements have been made, you will march immediately by the direct route to Cádiz and you will even press your movements so that the enemies will not have time to organise their defence.

Whoops. Bummer. An order by Soult to immediately march on Cadiz. There goes the certainty.

So, what did really happen? Don’t look at me for an answer, I have no clue. Was Victor not sure of Sevilla’s intention and did thus not follow Soult’s instructions? Did Soult for some reason have a total change of heart between the 26th and the 30th of January? Are all three witnesses in favour of Joseph lying? Or had they misunderstood something? Had in truth Joseph convinced Soult of marching on Sevilla, instead the other way around? Is the letter Nicole Gotteri found in the War archives a forgery? (It would not be impossible, considering that Soult was in charge of the ministry of war several times and could easily have placed documents there in order to exculpiate himself.)

The only thing that is for sure: Victor’s corps did not march on Cadiz, but took part in King José’s big and glorious entry into the city of Sevilla on February 1. It was only sent in the direction of Cadiz the following day. They arrived just in time to see how the Spanish junta, who had fled from Sevilla, and the Spanish troops who had come in forced marches in order to fortify Cadiz, locked the gates behind themselves.

The French would never even come close to taking the town, they had lost their only chance. And the discussions about who was responsible for this apparently started immediately after the empire had fallen.  

Though the funniest thing for me is to imagine Soult at the beginning of this Andalusian campaign, all hopeful because he thinks he will soon get to leave, inwardly doing the happy dance ,„Just one more campaign, and I’m done with this shit. Take me hooome, country roooaaads…“, while Laforest and Lagarde see him and go „Was that a smile on Soult’s face? Watch out, everyone, red alert, he’s bound to be cooking up some truly devious plan!“

[josefavomjaaga]

That one time, when Soult accused Joseph of treason... (Part 3)

We left the story (part 1, part 2) when Joseph, like in a bad comedy show, accidentally got to read a letter in which Soult suggested to the minister of war, Clarke, that Joseph might be in secret negotiations with the Spanish insurgents that Napoleon’s soldiers in Spain were fighting against.

Of course, being the king of the country and a man who took great care to see himself and his authority respected, he did what any respectable man would do and immediately confronted Soult whined to Napoleon about it.

Joseph to Napoleon. Valencia, 9 September 1812

Sire, Colonel Desprez had left yesterday when Marshal Suchet brought me the enclosed packet from Marshal Soult. I had this officer recalled [i.e. Desprez, not Suchet or Soult; Soult would not have obeyed anyway]; and reading these dispatches struck me as such that I thought I had no other course of action than to address them directly to Your Majesty by this same officer, with whom Marshal Soult had long conferences which you would do well to be informed of. I do not know what to say about the insane conclusions of this marshal; but to communicate them to six generals is undoubtedly the only means which he thought he could use to destroy the effect of the order which I gave him, by dispatch of June 30 and August 7, to hand over command to the most senior general officer, if he continued to refuse to carry out my orders for the evacuation of Andalusia; it is a revolt against the authority which Your Majesty entrusted me with. The communication which he makes to Paris is also unseemly; neither of these actions can go unpunished. I ask Your Majesty for justice. Let Marshal Soult be recalled, tried, and punished.

Nappy, that evil Soult man was mean to me! Go slap him!

Also, considering that Joseph himself was openly defying Napoleon’s orders ever since he had put his behind on the throne of Spain, which may have been one of the reasons why Napoleon installed the army governors in the first place, it takes some guts to accuse Soult of insubordination. Glass house?

I cannot remain any longer here with such a man, I am worried about the conduct which he is going to hold; therefore send as soon as possible a general who replaces him; take some sort of decision: until then I will do what depends on me to prevent, if I can, the total ruin of affairs, which the resistance of a man who commands the largest army, who must have a great deal of money and means of intrigue, can bring about.

A great deal of money and means of intrigue, coincidentally, would be a good way to describe Joseph...

Moreover, I refer to everything contained in my previous letter; and if you do not have absolute confidence in me, and if you do not show it in a way which imposes itself on all the wannabe rulers of sovereign principalities in the Peninsula, there is no other course of action to take than to allow me to return to France, in accordance with what you were kind enough to say to me when I took leave of you.

I’ve lost count how many times Joseph had already offered his resignation at this point. Napoleon probably knew what to make of this threat, as Joseph never followed up on it. Besides, it was always a conditional threat: if I don’t get my way, I’ll resign.

Also, in the state in which affairs are, my presence can restore them less than that of a consummate general who would come here clothed with the fullness of Your Majesty's confidence.

This letter, as seen above, was written and handed over to Colonel Desprez on September 9. But this didn’t suffice. To make sure that Napoleon really learned how badly his beloved brother was treated by his evil marshals, Joseph wrote another letter:

Joseph to Napoleon, Valencia, 14 September 1812

Sire, Colonel Desprez, my aide-de-camp, left here on the 9th [...]

On the 15th, actually, according to Miot de Mélito. Which means that he in the end carried this letter as well. Service around Joseph was not known for either speed or efficiency.

[...] with dispatches it is very important for Your Majesty to receive from this officer, and details which are his alone and which only he can give. However, if events prevent him from arriving with his dispatches to Your Majesty, you will find enclosed three documents which it is good for you to know as soon as possible. I have been without letters from Paris for three months. I have no news of Marshal Masséna.

I also have done nothing to try to change that and to make sure communications are not interrupted. - It’s interesting that, independently from each other, both Clarke and Soult at some point would come to the conclusion that the courriers were usually intercepted on Joseph’s territory..

The enemy army in Alicante is comprised, including the English, Sicilian and Spanish landed troops, of 30,000 men; it is fortifying itself, and does not seem to think of going on the offensive ever since I rejoined the troops of the army of Aragon. If it were not for the worries given to me by the character of Marshal Soult, which chance brought to my attention by making his letter of the 12th fall into my hands, I would no longer doubt that affairs in this country would soon be restored.

Translation: There’s an enemy army in the territories I am supposed to govern, but I’ve run to Suchet for cover, so I’ll just let this enemy army be and take care of the real problem: the fact that Soult does not do what I tell him to do.

Your Majesty can, moreover, be convinced that I will do all that he has a right to expect of me in this difficult circumstance.

Napoleon: That’s precisely what I am afraid of ...

This is not the time to renew the assurance of my devotion to you: you know very well that I am truly your affectionate brother.

And with this assurance, Desprez finally sets off for Paris, in order to first meet Clarke, and then he will have to run after Napoleon, who, unbeknownst to either Desprez or Joseph, is already on his way to Moscow.

In the meantime, Soult, who received letter after letter from Joseph, accusing him of disobedience and insubordination and of having caused the defeat of Salamanca - but not once mentioning Soult’s intercepted letter to Clarke and Desprez’s journey to Paris - had nolens volens started the evacuation of Andalusia. Slowly and methodically, starting with the troops who were most exposed, sending ahead a corps of engineers to make sure the roads were okay, then a large train consisting of as many sick and wounded as were in a state to be transported, but also artillery, archives, all sorts of luggage and all Spaniards who had compromised themselves in Sevilla by cooperating with the French over the last two years (among them a certain pregnant young lady Madame Soult soon would not be happy to learn about).

It’s an interesting contrast to the way Joseph would retreat from Spain in early 1813. - Of course, while Soult conducted his evacuation, Joseph all the time continued to breath fire in Soult’s direction because Soult took so long to finally leave Andalusia.

After a march of 37 days, on 2 October 1812, Soult joined Joseph’s troops and went to see Joseph at Fuente de Higuera.

Now that must have been a scene ... not. As Soult relates in his memoirs:

This encounter was to be more than chilly. The king had, for three weeks already, been aware of my letter to the Minister of War, dated 12 August, and had sent Colonel Desprez to the Emperor. I learned of it on arrival. I expected the king to address me about the matter first: he did not say a word about it.

For some things, you need balls. I guess demanding your authority be respected in a letter to somebody hundreds of miles away is somewhat easier than actually enact that authority in this guy’s presence...