THE FALL OF PRUSSIA
We now turn to consider the influence which the founding of the
Rhenish Confederation exerted on the international problems which were
being discussed at Paris. Having gained this diplomatic victory,
Napoleon, it seems, might well afford to be lenient to Prussia, to the
Czar, even to England. Would he seize this opportunity, and soothe the
fears of these Powers by a few timely concessions, or would he press
them all the harder because the third of Germany was now under his
control? Here again he was at the parting of the ways.
As the only obstacles to the conclusion of a durable peace with
England were Sicily and Hanover, it may be well to examine here the
bearing of these questions on the peace of Europe and Napoleon's
future.
It is clear from his letters to Joseph that he had firmly resolved to
conquer Sicily. Before his brother had reached Naples he warned him to
prepare for the expulsion of the Bourbons from that island. For that
purpose the French pushed on into Calabria and began to make extensive
preparations--at the very time when Talleyrand stated to Lord Yarmouth
that the French did not want Sicily. But the English forces defending
that island prepared to deal a blow that would prevent a French
descent. A force of about 5,000 men under Sir John Stuart landed in
the Bay of St. Euphemia: and when, on the 4th of July, 1806, Reynier
led 7,000 troops against them in full assurance of victory, his
choicest battalions sank before the fierce bayonet charge of the
British: in half an hour the French were in full retreat, leaving half
their numbers on the field.
The moral effect of this victory was very great. Hitherto our troops,
except in Egypt, had had no opportunity of showing their splendid
qualities. More than half a century had passed since at Minden a
British force had triumphed over a French force in Europe; and
Napoleon expressed the current opinion when he declared to Joseph his
joy that at last the _slow and clumsy English_ had ventured on the
mainland.[86] Moreover, the success at Maida, the general rising of
the Calabrias that speedily followed, and Stuart's capture of Reggio,
Cortone, and other towns, with large stores and forty cannon destined
for the conquest of Sicily, scattered to the winds the French hope of
carrying Sicily by a _coup de main_.
If there was any chance of the Russian and British Governments
deserting the cause of the Bourbons, it was ended by the news from the
Mediterranean; and Napoleon now realized that the mastery of that
sea--"_the principal and constant aim of my policy_"--had once more
slipped from his grasp! On their side the Bourbons were unduly elated
by a further success which was more brilliant than solid. Queen
Caroline, excited at the capture of Capri by Sir Sidney Smith, sought
to rouse all her lost provinces: she intrigued behind the back of the
King and of General Acton, while the knight-errant succeeded in
paralyzing the plans of Sir John Stuart.[87] Meanwhile Masséna, after
reducing the fortress of Gaëta to surrender, marched southward with a
large force, and the British and Bourbon forces re-embarked for
Sicily, leaving the fierce peasants and bandits of Calabria to the
mercies of the conquerors. But Maida was not fought in vain. Sicily
thenceforth was safe, the British army regained something of its
ancient fame, and the hope of resisting Napoleon was strengthened both
at St. Petersburg and London.
Peace can rarely be attained unless one of the combatants is overcome
or both are exhausted. But neither Great Britain nor France was in
this position. By sea our successes had been as continuous as those of
Napoleon over our allies on land. In January we captured the Cape from
the Dutch: in February the French force at St. Domingo surrendered to
Sir James Duckworth: Admiral Warren in March closed the career of the
adventurous Linois; and early in July a British force seized great
treasure at Buenos Ayres, whence, however, it was soon obliged to
retire. After these successes Fox could not but be firm. He refused to
budge from the standpoint of _uti possidetis_ which our envoy had
stated as the basis of negotiations: and the Earl of Lauderdale, who
was sent to support and finally to supersede the Earl of Yarmouth, at
once took a firm tone which drew forth a truculent rejoinder. If that
was to be the basis, wrote Clarke, the French plenipotentiary, then
France would require Moravia, Styria, the whole of Austria (Proper),
and Hanover, and in that case leave England her few colonial
conquests.
This reply of August 8th nearly severed the negotiations on the spot:
but Talleyrand persistently refused to grant the passports which
Lauderdale demanded--evidently in the hope that the Czar's
ratification of Oubril's treaty would cause us to give up Sicily.[88]
He was in error. On September 3rd the news reached Paris that
Alexander scornfully rejected his envoy's handiwork. Nevertheless,
Napoleon refused to forego his claims to Sicily; and the closing days
of Fox were embittered by the thought that this negotiation, the last
hope of a career fruitful in disappointments, was doomed to failure.
After using his splendid eloquence for fifteen years in defence of the
Revolution and its "heir," he came to the bitter conclusion that
liberty had miscarried in France, and that that land had bent beneath
the yoke in order the more completely to subjugate the Continent. He
died on September 13th.
French historians, following an article in the "Moniteur" of November
26th, have often asserted that the death of Fox and the accession to
power of the warlike faction changed the character of the
negotiations.[89] Nothing can be further from the truth. Not long
before his end, Fox thus expressed to his nephew his despair of peace:
"We can in honour do nothing without the full and _bonâ fide_
consent of the Queen and Court of Naples; but, even exclusive of
that consideration and of the great importance of Sicily, it is
not so much the value of the point in dispute as the manner in
which the French fly from their word that disheartens me. It is
not Sicily, but the shuffling, insincere way in which they act,
that shows me that they are playing a false game; and in that case
it would be very imprudent to make any concessions, which by any
possibility could be thought inconsistent with our honour, or
could furnish our allies with a plausible pretence for suspecting,
reproaching, or deserting us."
It is further to be noted that Lauderdale stayed on at Paris three
weeks after the death of Fox; that he put forward no new demand, but
required that Talleyrand should revert to his first promise of
renouncing all claim to Sicily, and should treat conjointly with
England and Russia. It was in vain. Napoleon's final concessions were
that the Bourbons, after losing Sicily, should have the Balearic Isles
and be pensioned _by Spain_; that Russia should hold Corfu (as she
already did); and that we should recover Hanover from Prussia, and
keep Malta, the Cape, Tobago, and the three French towns in India;
but, except Hanover, all of these were in our power. On Sicily he
would not bate one jot of his pretensions. The negotiations were
therefore broken off on October 6th, twelve days after Napoleon left
Paris to marshal his troops against Prussia.[90] The whole affair
revealed Napoleon's determination to trick the allies into signing
separate and disadvantageous treaties, and thus to regain by craft the
ground which he had lost in fair fight at Maida.
If Sicily was the rock of stumbling between us and Napoleon, Hanover
was the chief cause of the war between France and Prussia. During the
negotiations at Paris, Lord Yarmouth privately informed Lucchesini,
the Prussian ambassador, that Talleyrand made no difficulty about the
restitution of Hanover to George III. The news, when forwarded to
Berlin at the close of July, caused a nervous flutter in ministerial
circles, where every effort was being made to keep on good terms with
France.
Even before this news arrived, the task was far from easy. Murat, when
occupying his new Duchy of Berg, pushed on his troops into the old
Church lands of Essen and Werden. Prussia looked on these districts as
her own, and the sturdy patriot Blücher at once marched in his
soldiers, tore down Murat's proclamations, and restored the Prussian
eagle with blare of trumpet and beat of drum.[91] A collision was with
difficulty averted by the complaisance of Frederick William, who
called back his troops and referred the question to lawyers; but even
the King was piqued when the Grand-Duke of Berg sent him a letter of
remonstrance on Blücher's conduct, commencing with the familiar
address, _Mon frère_.
Blücher meanwhile and the soldiery were eating out their hearts with
rage, as they saw the French pouring across the Rhine, and
constructing a bridge of boats at Wesel; and had they known that that
important stronghold, the key of North Germany, was quietly declared
to be a French garrison town, they would probably have forced the
hands of the King.[92] For at this time Frederick William and Haugwitz
were alarmed by the formation of the Rhenish Confederation, and were
not wholly reassured by Napoleon's suggestion that the abolition of
the old Empire must be an advantage to Prussia. They clutched eagerly,
however, at his proposal that Prussia should form a league of the
North German States, and made overtures to the two most important
States, Saxony and Hesse-Cassel. During a few halcyon days the King
even proposed to assume the title _Emperor of Prussia_, from which,
however, the Elector of Saxony ironically dissuaded him. This castle
in the air faded away when news reached Berlin at the beginning of
August that Napoleon was seeking to bring the Elector of Hesse-Cassel
into the Rhenish Confederation, and was offering as a bait the domains
of some Imperial Knights and the principality of Fulda, now held by
the Prince of Orange, a relative of Frederick William. Moreover, the
moves of the French troops in Thuringia were so threatening to Saxony
that the Court of Dresden began to scout the project of a North German
Confederation.
Still, the King and Haugwitz tried to persuade themselves that
Napoleon meant well for Prussia, that England had been doing her
utmost to make bad blood between the two allies, and that "great
results could not be attained without some friction." In this hope
they were encouraged by the French ambassador, the man who had enticed
Prussia to her demobilization. He was charged by Talleyrand to report
at Berlin that "peace with England would be made, as well as with
Russia, if France had consented to the restitution of Hanover.--I have
renewed," added Laforest, "the assurance that the Emperor [Napoleon]
would never yield on this point."
And yet at that very time the French Foreign Office was at work upon a
Project of a Treaty in which the restitution of Hanover to George III.
was expressly named and received the assent of Napoleon.[93] The
Prussian ambassador, Lucchesini, had some inkling of this from French
sources,[94] as well as from Lord Yarmouth, and on July 28th penned a
despatch which fell like a thunderbolt on the optimists of Berlin. It
crossed on the way--such is the irony of diplomacy--a despatch from
Berlin that required him to show unlimited confidence in Napoleon.
From confidence the King now rushed to the opposite extreme, and saw
Napoleon's hand in all the friction of the last few weeks.
Here again he was wrong; for the French Emperor had held back Murat
and the other hot-bloods of the army who were longing to measure
swords with Prussia.[95] His correspondence proves that his first
thoughts were always in the Mediterranean. For one page that he wrote
about German affairs he wrote twenty to Joseph or Eugène on the need
of keeping a firm hand and punishing Calabrian rebels--"shoot three
men in every village"--above all, on the plans for conquering Sicily.
It was therefore with real surprise that on August 16th-18th he learnt
from a purloined despatch of Lucchesini that the latter suspected him
of planning with the Czar the partition of Prussian Poland. He treated
the matter with contempt, and seems to have thought that Prussia would
meekly accept the morsels which he proposed to throw to her in place
of Hanover. But he misread the character of Frederick William, if he
thought so grievous an insult would be passed over, and he knew not
the power of the Prussian Queen to kindle the fire of patriotism.
Queen Louisa was at this time thirty years of age and in the flower of
that noble matronly beauty which bespoke a pure and exalted being. As
daughter of a poverty-stricken prince of Mecklenburg-Strelitz, her
youth had been spent in the homeliest fashion, until her charms won
the heart of the Crown Prince of Prussia. Her first entry into Berlin
was graced by an act that proclaimed a loving nature. When a group of
children dressed in white greeted her with verses of welcome, she
lifted up and kissed their little leader, to the scandal of stiff
dowagers, and the joy of the citizens. The incident recalls the easy
grace and disregard of etiquette shown by Marie Antoinette at
Versailles in her young bridal days; and, in truth, these queens have
something in common, besides their loveliness and their misfortunes.
Both were mated with cold and uninspiring consorts. Destiny had
refused both to Frederick William and to Louis XVI. the power of
exciting feelings warmer than the esteem and respect due to a worthy
man; and all the fervour of loyalty was aroused by their queens.
Louisa was a North German Marie Antoinette, but more staid and homely
than the vivacious daughter of Maria Theresa. Neither did she
interfere much in politics, until the great crash came: even when the
blow was impending, and the patriotic statesmen, with whom she
sympathized, begged the King to remove Haugwitz, she disappointed them
by withholding the entreaties which her instincts urged but her wifely
obedience restrained. Her influence as yet was that of a noble,
fascinating woman, who softened the jars occasioned by the King's
narrow and pedantic nature, and purified the Court from the grossness
of the past. But in the dark days that were to come, her faith and
enthusiasm breathed new force into a down-trodden people; and where
all else was shattered, the King and Queen still held forth the ideal
of that first and strongest of Teutonic institutions, a pure family
life.
The "Memoirs" of Hardenberg show that the Queen quietly upheld the
patriotic cause;[96] and in the tone of the letter that Frederick
William wrote to the Czar (August 8th) there is something of feminine
resentment against the French Emperor: after recounting his grievances
at Napoleon's hands, he continued:
"If the news be true, if he be capable of perfidy so black, be
convinced, Sire, that it is not merely a question about Hanover
between him and me, but that he has decided to make war against me
at all costs. He wants no other Power beside his own.... Tell me,
Sire, I conjure you, if I may hope that your troops will be within
reach of succour for me, and if I may count on them in case of
aggression."
Alexander wrote a cheering response, advising him to settle his
differences with England and Sweden, and assuring him of help.
Whereupon the King replied (September 6th) that he had reopened the
North Sea rivers to British ships and hoped for peace and pecuniary
help from London. He concluded thus:
"Meanwhile, Bonaparte has left me at my ease: for not only does he
not enter into any explanation about my armaments, but he has even
forbidden his Ministers to give and receive any explanations
whatever. It appears, then, that it is I who am to take the
initiative. My troops are marching on all sides to hasten that
moment."[97]
These last sentences are the handwriting on the wall for the _ancien
régime_ in Prussia. Taking the bland assurances of Talleyrand and the
studied indifference of Laforest as signs that Napoleon might be
caught off his guard, Prussia continued her warlike preparations; and
in order to gain time Lucchesini was recalled and replaced by an envoy
who was to enter into lengthy explanations. The trick did not deceive
Napoleon, who on September 3rd had heard with much surprise that
Russia meant to continue the war. At once he saw the germ of a new
Coalition, and bent his energies to the task of conciliating Austria,
and of fomenting the disputes between Russia and Turkey. Towards
Frederick William his tone was that of a friend who grieves at an
unexpected quarrel. How--he exclaimed to Lucchesini on the
ambassador's departure--how could the King credit him with encouraging
the intrigues of a fussy ambassador at Cassel or the bluster of Murat?
As for Hanover, he had intended sending some one to Berlin to propose
an equivalent for it in case England still made its restitution a
_sine quâ non_ of peace. "But," he added, "if your young officers and
your women at Berlin want war, I am preparing to satisfy them. Yet my
ambition turns wholly to Italy. She is a mistress whose favours I will
share with no one. I will have all the Adriatic. The Pope shall be my
vassal, and I will conquer Sicily. On North Germany I have no claims:
I do not object to the Hanse towns entering your confederation. As to
the inclusion of Saxony in it, my mind is not yet made up."[98]
Indeed, the tenor of his private correspondence proves that before the
first week of September he did not expect a new Coalition. He believed
that England and Russia would give way before him, and that Prussia
would never dare to stir. For the Court of Berlin he had a sovereign
contempt, as for the "old coalition machines" in general. His conduct
of affairs at this time betokens, not so much desire for war as lack
of imagination where other persons' susceptibilities are concerned. It
is probable that he then wanted peace with England and peace on the
Continent; for his diplomacy won conquests fully as valuable as the
booty of his sword, and only in a naval peace could he lay the
foundations of that oriental empire which, he assured O'Meara at St.
Helena, held the first place in his thoughts after the overthrow of
Austria. But it was not in his nature to make the needful concessions.
"_I must follow my policy in a geometrical line_" he said to
Lucchesini. England might have Hanover and a few colonies if she would
let Sicily go to a Bonaparte: as for Prussia, she might absorb
half-a-dozen neighbouring princelings.
That is the gist of Napoleon's European policy in the summer of 1806;
and the surprise which he expressed to Mollien at the rejection of his
offers is probably genuine. Sensitive to the least insult himself, his
bluntness of perception respecting the honour of others might almost
qualify him to rank with Aristotle's man devoid of feeling. It is
perfectly true that he did not make war on Prussia in 1806 any more
than on England in 1803. He only made peace impossible.[99]
The condition on which Prussia now urgently insisted was the entire
evacuation of Germany by French troops. This Napoleon refused to
concede until Frederick William demobilized his army, a step that
would have once more humbled him in the eyes of this people. It might
even have led to his dethronement. For an incident had just occurred
in Bavaria that fanned German sentiment to a flame. A bookseller of
Nuremberg, named Palm, was proved by French officers to have sold an
anonymous pamphlet entitled "Germany in her deep Humiliation." It was
by no means of a revolutionary type, and the worthy man believed it to
be a mistake when he was arrested by the military authorities. He was
wrong. Napoleon had sent orders that a terrible example must be made
in order to stop the sale of patriotic German pamphlets. Palm was
therefore haled away to Braunau, an Austrian town then held by French
troops, was tried by martial law and shot (August 25th). Never did the
Emperor commit a greater blunder. The outrage sent a thrill of
indignation through the length and breadth of Germany. Instead of
quenching, it inflamed the national sentiment, and thus rendered
doubly difficult any peaceful compromise between Frederick William and
Napoleon. The latter was now looked upon as a tyrant by the citizen
class which his reforms were designed to conciliate: and Frederick
William became almost the champion of Germany when he demanded the
withdrawal of the French troops.
Unfortunately, the King refused to appoint Ministers who inspired
confidence. With Hardenberg in place of Haugwitz, men would have felt
sure that the sword would not again be tamely sheathed; great efforts
were made to effect this change, but met with a chilling repulse from
the King.[100] It is true that Haugwitz and Beyme now expressed the
bitterest hatred of Napoleon, as well they might for a man who had
betrayed their confidence. But, none the less, the King's refusal to
change his men along with his policy was fatal. Both at St. Petersburg
and London no trust was felt in Prussia as long as Haugwitz was at the
helm. The man who had twice steered the ship of state under Napoleon's
guns might do it again; and both England and Russia waited to see some
irrevocable step taken before they again risked an army for that
prince of waverers.
Grenville rather tardily sent Lord Morpeth to arrange an alliance, but
only after he should receive a solemn pledge that Hanover would be
restored. That envoy approached the Prussian headquarters just in time
to be swept away in the torrent of fugitives from Jena. As for Russia,
she had awaited the arrival of a Prussian officer at St. Petersburg to
concert a plan of campaign. When he arrived he had no plan; and the
Czar, perplexed by the fatuity of his ally, and the hostility of the
Turks, refused to march his troops forthwith into Prussia.[101]
Equally disappointing was the conduct of Austria. This Power, bleeding
from the wounds of last year and smarting under the jealousy of
Russia, refused to move until the allies had won a victory. And so,
thanks to the jealousies of the old monarchies, Frederick William had
no Russian or Austrian troops at his side, no sinews of war from
London to invigorate his preparations, when he staked his all in the
high places of Thuringia. He gained, it is true, the support of Saxony
and Weimar; but this brought less than 21,000 men to his side.
On the other hand, Napoleon, as Protector of the Rhenish
Confederation, secured the aid of 25,000 South Germans, as well as an
excellent fortified base at Würzburg. His troops, holding the citadels
of Passau and Braunau on the Austrian frontier, kept the Hapsburgs
quiet; and 60,000 French and Dutch troops at Wesel menaced the
Prussians in Hanover. Above all, his forces already in Germany were
strengthened until, in the early days of October, some 200,000 men
were marching from the Main towards the Duchy of Weimar. Soult and Ney
led 60,000 men from Amberg towards Baireuth and Hof: Bernadotte and
Davoust, with 90,000, marched towards Schleitz, while Lannes and
Augereau, with 46,000, moved by a road further to the left towards
Saalfeld.
The progress of these dense columns near together and through a hilly
country presented great difficulties, which only the experience of the
officers, the energy and patience of the men, and the genius of their
great leader could overcome. Meanwhile Napoleon had quietly left Paris
on September 25th. Travelling at his usual rapid rate, he reached
Mainz on the 28th: he was at Würzburg on October 2nd; there he
directed the operations, confident that the impact of his immense
force would speedily break the Prussians, drive them down the valley
of the Saale and thus detach the Elector of Saxony from an alliance
that already was irksome.
The French, therefore, had a vast mass of seasoned fighters, a good
base of operations, and a clear plan of attack. The Prussians, on the
contrary, could muster barely 128,000 men, including the Saxons, for
service in the field; and of these 27,000 with Rüchel were on the
frontier of Hesse-Cassel seeking to assure the alliance of the
Elector. The commander-in-chief was the septuagenarian Duke of
Brunswick, well known for his failure at Valmy in 1792 and his recent
support to the policy of complaisance to France. His appointment
aroused anger and consternation; and General Kalckreuth expressed to
Gentz the general opinion when he said that the Duke was quite
incompetent for such a command: "His character is not strong enough,
his mediocrity, irresolution, and untrustworthiness would ruin the
best undertaking." The Duke himself was aware of his incompetence. Why
then, we ask, did he accept the command? The answer is startling; but
it rests on the evidence of General von Müffling:
"The Duke of Brunswick had accepted the command _in order to avert
war_. I can affirm this with perfect certainty, since I have heard
it from his own lips more than once. He was fully aware of the
weaknesses of the Prussian army and the incompetence of its
officers."[102]
Thus there was seen the strange sight of a diffident, peace-loving
King accompanying the army and sharing in all the deliberations; while
these were nominally presided over by a despondent old man who still
intrigued to preserve peace, and shifted on to the King the
responsibility of every important act. And yet there were able
generals who could have acted with effect, even if they fell short of
the opinion hopefully bruited by General Rüchel, that "several were
equal to M. de Bonaparte." Events were to prove that Gneisenau,
Scharnhorst, and Blücher rivalled the best of the French Marshals; but
in this war their lights were placed under bushels and only shone
forth when the official covers had been shattered. Scharnhorst,
already renowned for his strategic and administrative genius, took
part in some of the many councils of war where everything was
discussed and little was decided; but his opinion had no weight, for
on October 7th he wrote: "What we ought to do I know right well, what
we _shall_ do only the gods know."[103] He evidently referred to the
need of concentration. At that time the thin Prussian lines were
spread out over a front of eighty-five miles, the Saxons being near
Gera, the chief army, under Brunswick, at Erfurth, while Rüchel was so
far distant on the west that he could only come up at Jena just one
hour too late to avert disaster.
And yet with these weak and scattered forces, Prince Hohenlohe
proposed a bold move forward to the Main. Brunswick, on the other
hand, counselled a prudent defensive; but he could not, or would not,
enforce his plan; and the result was an oscillation between the two
extremes. Had he massed all his forces so as to command the valleys of
the Saale and Elster near Jena and Gera, the campaign might possibly
have been prolonged until the Russians came up. As it was, the allies
dulled the ardour of their troops by marches, counter-marches, and
interminable councils-of-war, while Napoleon's columns were threading
their way along those valleys at the average rate of fifteen miles a
day, in order to turn the allied left and cut the connection between
Prussia and Saxony.[104]
The first serious fighting was on October the 10th at Saalfeld, where
Prince Louis Ferdinand of Prussia with a small force sought to protect
Hohenlohe's flank march westwards on Jena. The task was beyond the
strength even of this flower of Prussian chivalry. He was overpowered
by the weight and vigour of Lannes' attack, and when already wounded
in a cavalry _mêlée_ was pierced through the body by an officer to
whom he proudly refused to surrender. The death of this hero, the
"Alcibiades" of Prussia, cast a gloom over the whole army, and
mournful faces at headquarters seemed to presage yet worse disasters.
Perhaps it was some inkling of this discouragement, or a laudable
desire to stop "an impolitic war," that urged Napoleon two days later
to pen a letter to the King of Prussia urging him to make peace before
he was crushed, as he assuredly would be. In itself the letter seems
admirable--until one remembers the circumstances of the case. The King
had pledged his word to the Czar to make war; if, therefore, he now
made peace and sent the Russians back, he would once more stand
condemned of preferring dishonourable ease to the noble hazards of an
affair of honour. As Napoleon was aware of the union of the King and
Czar, this letter must be regarded as an attempt to dissolve the
alliance and tarnish Frederick William's reputation. It was viewed in
that light by that monarch; and there is not a hint in Napoleon's
other letters that he really expected peace.
He was then at Gera, pushing forward his corps towards Naumburg so as
to cut off the Prussians from Saxony and the Elbe. Great as was his
superiority, these movements occasioned such a dispersion of his
forces as to invite attack from enterprising foes; but he despised the
Prussian generals as imbeciles, and endeavoured to unsteady their rank
and file by seizing and burning their military stores at the latter
town. He certainly believed that they were all in retreat northwards,
and great was his surprise when he heard from Lannes early on October
13th that his scouts, after scaling the hills behind Jena in a dense
mist, had come upon the Prussian army. The news was only partly
correct. It was only Hohenlohe's corps: for the bulk of that army,
under Brunswick, was retreating northwards, and nearly stumbled upon
the corps of Davoust and Bernadotte behind Naumburg.
Lannes also was in danger on the Landgrafenberg. This is a lofty hill
which towers above the town of Jena and the narrow winding vale of the
Saale; while its other slopes, to the north and west, rise above and
dominate the broken and irregular plateau on which Hohenlohe's force
was encamped. Had the Prussians attacked his weary regiments in force,
they might easily have hurled them into the Saale. But Hohenlohe had
received orders to retire northwards in the rear of Brunswick, as soon
as he had rallied the detachment of Rüchel near Weimar, and was
therefore indisposed to venture on the bold offensive which now was
his only means of safety. The respite thus granted was used by the
French to hurry every available regiment up the slopes north and west
of Jena. Late in the afternoon, Napoleon himself ascended the
Landgrafenberg to survey the plateau; while a pastor of the town was
compelled to show a path further north which leads to the same plateau
through a gulley called the Rau-thal.[105]
[Illustration: BATTLE OF JENA]
On the south the heights sink away into a wider valley, the Mühl-thal,
along which runs the road to Weimar; and on this side too their wooded
brows are broken by gulleys, up one of which runs a winding track
known as the Schnecke or Snail. Villages and woods diversified the
plateau and hindered the free use of that extended line formation on
which the Prussians relied, while favouring the operations of dense
columns preceded by clouds of skirmishers by which Napoleon so often
hewed his way to victory. His greatest advantage, however, lay in the
ignorance of his foes. Hohenlohe, believing that he was confronted
only by Lannes' corps, took little thought about what was going on in
his front, and judging the Mühl-thal approach alone to be accessible,
posted his chief force on this side. So insufficient a guard was
therefore kept on the side of the Landgrafenberg that the French,
under cover of the darkness, not only crowned the summit densely with
troops, but dragged up whole batteries of cannon.
The toil was stupendous: in one of the steep hollow tracks a number of
cannon and wagons stuck fast; but the Emperor, making his rounds at
midnight, brought the magic of his presence to aid the weary troops
and rebuke the officers whose negligence had caused this block.
Lantern in hand, he went up and down the line to direct the work; and
Savary, who saw this scene, noted the wonder of the men, as they
caught sight of the Emperor, the renewed energy of their blows at the
rocks, and their whispers of surprise that _he_ should come in person
when their officers were asleep. The night was far spent when, after
seeing the first wagon right through the narrow steep, he repaired to
his bivouac amidst his Guards on the summit, and issued further orders
before snatching a brief repose. By such untiring energy did he assure
victory. Apart from its immense effect on the spirits of his troops,
his vigilance reaped a rich reward. Jena was won by a rapid
concentration of troops, and the prompt seizure of a commanding
position almost under the eyes of an unenterprising enemy. The corps
of Soult and Ney spent most of the night and early morning in marching
towards Jena and taking up their positions on the right or north wing,
while Lannes and the Guard held the central height, and Augereau's
corps in the Mühl-thal threatened the Saxons and Prussians guarding
the Schnecke.[106]
A dense fog screened the moves of the assailants early on the morrow,
and, after some confused but obstinate fighting, the French secured
their hold on the plateau not only above the town of Jena, where their
onset took the Prussians by surprise, but also above the Mühl-thal,
where the enemy were in force.
By ten o'clock the fog lifted, and the warm rays of the autumn sun
showed the dense masses of the French advancing towards the middle of
the plateau. Hohenlohe now saw the full extent of his error and
despatched an urgent message to Rüchel for aid. It was too late. The
French centre, led by Lannes, began to push back the Prussian lines on
the village named Vierzehn Heiligen. It was in vain that Hohenlohe's
choice squadrons flung themselves on the serried masses in front: the
artillery and musketry fire disordered them, while French dragoons
were ready to profit by their confusion. The village was lost, then
retaken by a rally of the Prussians, then lost again when Ney was
reinforced; and when the full vigour of the French attack was
developed by the advance of Soult and Augereau on either wing,
Napoleon launched his reserves, his Guard, and Murat's squadrons on
the disordered lines. The impact was irresistible, and Hohenlohe's
force was swept away. Then it was that Rüchel's force drew near, and
strove to stem the rout. Advancing steadily, as if on parade, his
troops for a brief space held up the French onset; but neither the
dash of the Prussian horse nor the bravery of the foot-soldiers could
dam that mighty tide, which laid low the gallant leader and swept his
lines away into the general wreck.[107]
In the headlong flight before Murat's horsemen, the fugitives fell in
with another beaten array, that of Brunswick. At Jena the Prussians,
if defeated, were not disgraced: before the first shot was fired their
defeat was a mathematical certainty. At the crisis of the battle they
had but 47,400 men at hand, while Napoleon then disposed of 83,600
combatants.[108] But at Auerstädt they were driven back and disgraced.
There they had a decided superiority in numbers, having more than
35,000 of their choicest troops, while opposite to them stood only the
27,000 men of Davoust's corps.
Hitherto Davoust had been remarkable rather for his dog-like devotion
to Napoleon than for any martial genius; and the brilliant Marmont had
openly scoffed at his receiving the title of Marshal. But, under his
quiet exterior and plodding habits, there lay concealed a variety of
gifts which only needed a great occasion to shine forth and astonish
the world.[109] The time was now at hand. Frederick William and
Brunswick were marching from Auerstädt to make good their retreat on
the Elbe, when their foremost horsemen, led by the gallant Blücher,
saw a solid wall of French infantry loom through the morning fog. It
was part of Davoust's corps, strongly posted in and around the village
of Hassenhausen.
At once Blücher charged, only to be driven back with severe loss.
Again he came on, this time supported by infantry and cannon: again he
was repulsed; for Davoust, aided by the fog, had seized the
neighbouring heights which commanded the high road, and held them with
firm grip. Determined to brush aside or crush this stubborn foe, the
Duke of Brunswick now led heavy masses along the narrow defile; but
the steady fire of the French laid him low, with most of the officers;
and as the Prussians fell back, Davoust swung forward his men to
threaten their flanks. The King was dismayed at these repeated checks,
and though the Prussian reserves under Kalckreuth could have been
called up to overwhelm the hard-pressed French by the weight of
numbers, yet he judged it better to draw off his men and fall back on
Hohenlohe for support.
But what a support! Instead of an army, it was a terrified mob flying
before Murat's sabres, that met them halfway between Auerstädt and
Weimar. Threatened also by Bernadotte's corps on their left flank, the
two Prussian armies now melted away in one indistinguishable torrent,
that was stemmed only by the sheltering walls of Erfurt, Magdeburg,
and of fortresses yet more remote.
Of the twin battles of Jena and Auerstädt, the latter was
unquestionably the more glorious for the French arms. That Napoleon
should have beaten an army of little more than half his numbers is in
no way remarkable. What is strange is that so consummate a leader
should have been entirely ignorant of the distribution of the enemy's
forces, and should have left Davoust with only 27,000 men exposed to
the attack of Brunswick with nearly 40,000.[110] In his bulletins, as
in the "Relation Officielle," the Emperor sought to gloze over his
error by magnifying Hohenlohe's corps into a great army and
attenuating Davoust's splendid exploit, which in his private letters
he warmly praised. The fact is, he had made all his dispositions in
the belief that he had the main body of the Prussians before him at
Jena.
That is why, on the afternoon of the 13th, he hastily sent to recall
Murat's horse and Bernadotte's corps from Naumburg and its vicinity;
and in consequence Bernadotte took no very active part in the
fighting. For this he has been bitterly blamed, on the strength of an
assertion that Napoleon during the night of the 13th-14th sent him an
order to support Davoust. This order has never been produced, and it
finds no place in the latest and fullest collection of French official
despatches, which, however, contains some that fully exonerate
Bernadotte.[111] Unfortunately for Bernadotte's fame, the tattle of
memoir writers is more attractive and gains more currency than the
prosaic facts of despatches.
Fortune plays an immense part in warfare; and never did she favour the
Emperor more than on October the 14th, 1806. Fortune and the skill and
bravery of Davoust and his corps turned what might have been an almost
doubtful conflict into an overwhelming victory. Though Napoleon was as
ignorant of the movements of Brunswick as he was of the flank march of
Blücher at Waterloo, yet the enterprise and tenacity of Davoust and
Lannes yielded him, on the Thuringian heights, a triumph scarcely
paralleled in the annals of war. It is difficult to overpraise those
Marshals for the energy with which they clung to the foe and brought
on a battle under conditions highly favourable to the French: without
their efforts, the Prussian army could never have been shattered on a
single day.
The flood of invasion now roared down the Thuringian valleys and
deluged the plains of Saxony and Brandenburg. Rivers and ramparts were
alike helpless to stay that all-devouring tide. On October the 16th,
16,000 men surrendered at Erfurt to Murat: then, spurring eastward,
_le beau sabreur_ rushed on the wreck of Hohenlohe's force, and with
the aid of Lannes' untiring corps compelled it to surrender at
Prenzlau.[112] Blücher meanwhile stubbornly retreated to the north;
but, with Murat, Soult, and Bernadotte dogging his steps, he finally
threw himself into Lübeck, where, after a last desperate effort, he
surrendered to overpowering numbers (November 7th).
Here the gloom of defeat was relieved by gleams of heroism; but before
the walls of other Prussian strongholds disaster was blackened by
disgrace. Held by timid old men or nerveless pedants, they scarcely
waited for a vigorous attack. A few cannon-shots, or even a
demonstration of cavalry, generally brought out the white flag. In
quick succession, Spandau, Stettin, Küstrin, Magdeburg, and Hameln
opened their gates, the governor of the last-named being mainly
concerned about securing his future retiring pension from the French
as soon as Hanover passed into their keeping.
Amidst these shameful surrenders the capital fell into the hands of
Davoust (October 25th). Varnhagen von Ense had described his mingled
surprise and admiration at seeing those "lively, impudent,
mean-looking little fellows," who had beaten the splendid soldiers
trained in the school of Frederick the Great. His wonder was natural;
but all who looked beneath the surface well knew that Prussia was
overthrown before the first shot was fired. She was the victim of a
deadening barrack routine, of official apathy or corruption, and of a
degrading policy which dulled the enthusiasm of her sons.
Thirteen days after the great battle, Napoleon himself entered Berlin
in triumph. It was the first time that he allowed himself a victor's
privilege, and no pains were spared to impress the imagination of
mankind by a parade of his choicest troops. First came the foot
grenadiers and chasseurs of the Imperial Guard: behind the central
group marched other squadrons and battalions of these veterans,
already famed as the doughtiest fighters of their age. In their midst
came the mind of this military machine--Napoleon, accompanied by three
Marshals and a brilliant staff. Among them men noted the plain,
soldierlike Berthier, the ever trusty and methodical chief of the
staff. At his side rode Davoust, whose round and placid face gave
little promise of his rapid rush to the front rank among the French
paladins. There too was the tall, handsome, threatening form of
Augereau, whose services at Jena, meritorious as they were, scarcely
maintained his fame at the high level to which it soared at
Castiglione. Then came Napoleon's favourite aide-de-camp, Duroc, a
short, stern, war-hardened man, well known in Berlin, where twice he
had sought to rivet close the bonds of the French alliance.
Above all, the gaze of the awe-struck crowd was fixed on the figure of
the chief, now grown to the roundness of robust health amidst toils
that would have worn most men to a shadow; and on the face, no longer
thin with the unsatisfied longings of youth, but square and full with
toil requited and ambition wellnigh sated--a visage redeemed from the
coarseness of the epicure's only by the knitted brows that bespoke
ceaseless thought, and by the keen, melancholy, unfathomable eyes.
NOTE ADDED TO THE FOURTH EDITION
Several facts of considerable interest and importance respecting
the Anglo-French negotiations of 1806 have been brought to light
by M. Coquelle in his recently published work "Napoleon and
England, 1803-1813," chapters xi.-xvii. (George Bell and Sons,
1904).
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