Produced by Paul Murray, and the PG Online Distributed Proofreading Team.

  LONDON: G. BELL & SONS, LIMITED,
  PORTUGAL STREET, KINGSWAY, W.C.
  CAMBRIDGE: DEIGHTON, BELL & CO.
  NEW YORK: THE MACMILLAN CO.
  BOMBAY: A.H. WHEELER & CO.

  THE LIFE OF NAPOLEON I

  INCLUDING NEW MATERIALS FROM THE BRITISH OFFICIAL RECORDS

  BY

  JOHN HOLLAND ROSE, LITT.D. LATE SCHOLAR OF CHRIST'S COLLEGE, CAMBRIDGE

    "Let my son often read and reflect on history: this is the only
    true philosophy."--_Napoleon's last Instructions for the King of
    Rome_.

  VOL. II

  LONDON G. BELL AND SONS, LTD 1910
  POST 8VO EDITION,
  ILLUSTRATED

  First Published, December 1901.
  Second Edition, revised, March 1902.
  Third Edition, revised, January 1903.
  Fourth Edition, revised,September 1907.
  Reprinted, January 1910.

  CROWN 8VO EDITION
  First Published, September 1904.
  Reprinted, October 1907;
  July 1910.

  CONTENTS

  CHAPTER
     XXII. ULM AND TRAFALGAR
    XXIII. AUSTERLITZ
     XXIV. PRUSSIA AND THE NEW CHARLEMAGNE
      XXV. THE FALL OF PRUSSIA
     XXVI. THE CONTINENTAL SYSTEM: FRIEDLAND
    XXVII. TILSIT
   XXVIII. THE SPANISH RISING
     XXIX. ERFURT
      XXX. NAPOLEON AND AUSTRIA
     XXXI. THE EMPIRE AT ITS HEIGHT
    XXXII. THE RUSSIAN CAMPAIGN
   XXXIII. THE FIRST SAXON CAMPAIGN
    XXXIV. VITTORIA AND THE ARMISTICE
     XXXV. DRESDEN AND LEIPZIG
    XXXVI. FROM THE RHINE TO THE SEINE
   XXXVII. THE FIRST ABDICATION
  XXXVIII. ELBA AND PARIS
    XXXIX. LIGNY AND QUATRE BRAS
       XL. WATERLOO
      XLI. FROM THE ELYSÉE TO ST. HELENA
     XLII. CLOSING YEARS

           APPENDIX I: LIST OF THE CHIEF APPOINTMENTS
             AND DIGNITIES BESTOWED BY NAPOLEON

           APPENDIX II: THE BATTLE OF WATERLOO

           INDEX

MAPS AND PLANS

  BATTLE OF ULM
  BATTLE OF AUSTERLITZ
  BATTLE OF JENA
  BATTLE OF FRIEDLAND
  BATTLE OF WAGRAM
  CENTRAL EUROPE AFTER 1810
  CAMPAIGN IN RUSSIA
  BATTLE OF VITTORIA
  THE CAMPAIGN OF 1813
  BATTLE OF DRESDEN
  BATTLE OF LEIPZIG
  THE CAMPAIGN OF 1814                              _to face_
  PLAN OF THE WATERLOO CAMPAIGN
  BATTLE OF LIGNY
  BATTLE OF WATERLOO, about 11 o'clock a.m.    _to face_
  ST. HELENA

  THE LIFE OF NAPOLEON I

CHAPTER XXII

ULM AND TRAFALGAR

"Napoleon is the only man in Europe that knows the value of
time."--Czartoryski.

Before describing the Continental campaign which shattered the old
European system to its base, it will be well to take a brief glance at
the events which precipitated the war of the Third Coalition. Even at
the time of Napoleon's rupture with England, his highhanded conduct
towards the Italian Republic, Holland, Switzerland, and in regard to
the Secularizations in Germany, had exposed him to the hostility of
Russia, Sweden, and Austria; but as yet it took the form of secret
resentment. The last-named Power, under the Ministry of Count Cobenzl,
had relapsed into a tame and undignified policy, which the Swedish
Ambassador at Vienna described as "one of fear and hope--fear of the
power of France, and hope to obtain favours from her."[1] At Berlin,
Frederick William clung nervously to neutrality, even though the
French occupation of Hanover was a threat to Prussia's influence in
North Germany. The Czar Alexander was, at present, wrapt up in home
affairs; and the only monarch who as yet ventured to show his dislike
of the First Consul was the King of Sweden. In the autumn of 1803
Gustavus IV. defiantly refused Napoleon's proposals for a
Franco-Swedish alliance, baited though they were with the offer of
Norway as an eventual prize for Sweden, and a subsidy for every
Swedish warship serving against England. And it was not the dislike of
a proud nature to receive money which prompted his refusal; for
Gustavus, while in Germany, hinted to Drake that he desired to have
pecuniary help from England for the defence of his province of
Pomerania.[2]

But a doughtier champion of European independence was soon to enter
the field. The earlier feelings of respect and admiration which the
young Czar had cherished towards Napoleon were already overclouded,
when the news of the execution of the Duc d'Enghien at once roused a
storm of passion in his breast. The chivalrous protection which he
loved to extend to smaller States, the guarantee of the Germanic
system which the Treaty of Teschen had vested in him, above all, his
horror at the crime, led him to offer an emphatic protest. The Russian
Court at once went into mourning, and Alexander expressed both to the
German Diet and to the French Government his indignation at the
outrage. It was ever Napoleon's habit to return blow with blow; and he
now instructed Talleyrand to reply that in the D'Enghien affair he had
acted solely on the defensive, and that Russia's complaint "led him to
ask if, at the time when England was compassing the assassination of
Paul I., the authors of the plot had been known to be one league
beyond the [Russian] frontiers, every effort would not have been made
to have them seized?" Never has a poisoned dart been more deftly sped
at the weak spot of an enemy's armour. The Czar, ever haunted by the
thought of his complicity in a parricidal plot, was deeply wounded by
this malicious taunt, and all the more so because, as the death of
Paul had been officially ascribed to a fit, the insult could not be
flung back.[3] The only reply was to break off all diplomatic
relations with Napoleon; and this took place in the summer of 1804.[4]

Yet war was not to break out for more than a year. This delay was due
to several causes. Austria could not be moved from her posture of
timid neutrality. In fact, Francis II. and Cobenzl saw in Napoleon's
need of a recognition of his new imperial title a means of assuring a
corresponding change of title for the Hapsburg Dominions. Francis had
long been weary of the hollow dignity of Elective Emperor of the Holy
Roman Empire. The faded pageantry of Ratisbon and Frankfurt was all
that remained of the glories of the realm of Charlemagne: the medley
of States which owned him as elected lord cared not for the decrees of
this ghostly realm; and Goethe might well place in the mouth of his
jovial toper, in the cellar scene of "Faust," the words:

                    "Dankt Gott mit jedem Morgen
  Dass Ihr nicht braucht für's Röm'sche Reich zu sorgen!"

In that bargaining and burglarious age, was it not better to build a
more lasting habitation than this venerable ruin? Would not the
hereditary dominions form a more lasting shelter from the storm? Such
were doubtless the thoughts that prompted the assumption of the title
of Hereditary Emperor of Austria (August 11th, 1804). The
letter-patent, in which this change was announced, cited as parallels
"the example of the Imperial Court of Russia in the last century and
of the new sovereign of France." Both references gave umbrage to
Alexander, who saw no parallel between the assumption of the title of
Emperor by Peter the Great and the game of follow-the-leader played by
Francis to Napoleon.[5]

Prussian complaisance to the French Emperor was at this time to be
expected. Frederick William III. reigned over 10,000,000 subjects; he
could marshal 248,000 of the best trained troops in Europe, and his
revenue was more fruitful than that of the great Frederick. Yet the
effective power of Prussia had sadly waned; for her policy was now
marked by an enervating indecision. In the autumn of 1804, however,
the Prussian King was for a time spurred into action by the news that
Sir George Rumbold, British envoy at Hamburg, had been seized on the
night of October 24th, by French troops, and carried off to Paris.
This aggression upon the Circle of Lower Saxony, of which Frederick
William was Director, aroused lively indignation at Berlin; and the
King at once wrote to Napoleon a request for the envoy's liberation as
a proof of his "friendship and high consideration ...a seal on the past
and a pledge for the future."

To this appeal Napoleon returned a soothing answer that Sir George
would at once be released, though England was ever violating the
rights of neutrals, and her agents were conspiring against his life.
The Emperor, in fact, saw that he had taken a false step, which might
throw Prussia into the arms of England and Russia. For this latter
Power had already (May, 1804) offered her armed help to the Court of
Berlin in case the French should violate any other German
territory.[6] But the King was easily soothed; and when, in the
following spring, Napoleon sent seven Golden Eagles of the Legion of
Honour to the Court of Berlin, seven Black Eagles of the renowned
Prussian Order were sent in return--an occurrence which led Gustavus
IV. to return his Order of the Black Eagle with the remark that he
could not recognize "Napoleon and his like" as comrades in an Order of
Chivalry and Religion.[7] Napoleon's aim was achieved: Prussia was
sundered from any league in which Gustavus IV. was a prominent member.

Thus, the chief steps in the formation of the Third Coalition were
taken by Sweden, England, and Russia. Early in 1804 Gustavus proposed
a League of the Powers; and, on the advent of the Pitt Ministry to
office, overtures began to pass between St. Petersburg and London for
an alliance. Important proposals were made by Pitt and our Foreign
Minister, the Earl of Harrowby, in a note of June 26th, 1804, in which
hopes were expressed that Russia, England, Austria, Sweden, and if
possible Prussia, might be drawn together.[8] Alexander and
Czartoryski were already debating the advantages of an alliance with
England. Their aims were certainly noble. International law and the
rights of the weak States bordering on France were to be championed,
and it was suggested by Czartoryski that disputes should be settled,
not by force, but by arbitration.[9]

The statement of these exalted ideas was intrusted to a special envoy
to London, M. Novossiltzoff, who propounded to Pitt the scheme of a
European polity where the States should be independent and enjoy
institutions "founded on the sacred rights of humanity." With this aim
in view, the Czar desired to curb the power of Napoleon, bring back
France to her old limits, and assure the peace of Europe on a firm
basis, namely on the principle of the _balance of power_. Pitt and
Lord Harrowby having agreed to these proposals, details were discussed
at the close of 1804. None of the allies were, in any case, to make a
separate peace; and England (said M. Novossiltzoff) must not only use
her own troops, but grant subsidies to enable the Powers to set on
foot effective forces.

This last sentence claims special notice, as it disposes of the
well-worn phrase, that the Third Coalition was _built up_ by Pitt's
gold. On the contrary, Russia was the first to set forth the need of
English subsidies, which Pitt was by no means eager to supply. The
phrase used by French historians is doubtless correct in so far as
English gold enabled our allies to arm efficiently; but it is wholly
false if it implies that the Third Coalition was merely trumped up by
our money, and that the Russian, Austrian, and Swedish Governments
were so many automatic machines which, if jogged with coins, would
instantly supply armies to the ready money purchaser. This is
practically the notion still prevalent on the Continent; and it is
clearly traceable to the endless diatribes against Pitt's gold with
which Napoleon seasoned his bulletins, and to the caricatures which he
_ordered to be drawn_. The following was his direction to his Minister
of Police, Fouché: "Have caricatures made--an Englishman purse in
hand, _entreating the various Powers to take his money. This is the
real direction to give the whole business._" How well he knew mankind:
he rightly counted on its gullibility where pictures were concerned;
and the direction which he thus gave to public opinion bids fair to
persist, in spite of every exposure of the trickery.[10]

But, to return to the plans of the allies, Holland, Switzerland, and
Italy were to be liberated from their "enslavement to France," and
strengthened so as to provide barriers to future aggressions: the King
of Sardinia was to be restored to his mainland possessions, and
receive in addition the Ligurian, or Genoese, Republic.[11]

On all essential topics the British Government was in full accord with
the views of the Czar, and Pitt insisted on the need of a system of
international law which should guarantee the Continent against further
rapacious acts. But Europe was not destined to find peace on these
principles until after ten years of desolating war.

Various causes hindered the formation of this league. On January 2nd,
1805, Napoleon sent to George III. an offer of peace; and those
persons who did not see that this was a device for discovering the
course of negotiations believed that he ardently desired it. We now
know that the offer was despatched a week after he had ordered
Missiessy to ravage the British West Indies.[12] And, doubtless, his
object was attained when George III. replied in the speech from the
throne (January 15th) that he could not entertain the proposal without
reference to the Powers with whom he was then engaged in confidential
intercourse, and especially the Emperor of Russia. Yet the British
Government discussed with the Czar the basis for a future pacification
of Europe; and the mission of Novossiltzoff at midsummer to Berlin, on
his way to Paris, was the answer, albeit a belated one, to Napoleon's
New Year's pacific appeal. We shall now see why this delay occurred,
and what acts of the French Emperor finally dispelled all hopes of
peace.

The delay was due to differences between Russia and England respecting
Malta and our maritime code. The Czar insisted on our relinquishing
Malta and relaxing the rigours of the right of search for deserters
from our navy. To this the Pitt Ministry demurred, seeing that Malta
was our only means of protecting the Mediterranean States, and our
only security against French aggressions in the Levant, while the
right of searching neutral vessels was necessary to prevent the
enfeebling of our navy.[13] Negotiations were nearly broken off even
after a treaty between the two Powers had been brought to the final
stage on April 11th, 1805; but in July (after the Czar had recorded
his solemn protest against our keeping Malta) it was ratified, and
formed the basis for the Third Coalition. The aims of the allies were
to bring about the expulsion of French troops from North Germany; to
assure the independence of the Republics of Holland and Switzerland;
and to reinstate the King of Sardinia in Piedmont. Half a million of
men were to be set in motion, besides the forces of Great Britain; and
the latter Power, as a set-off to her lack of troops, agreed to
subsidize her allies to the extent of; £1,250,000 a year for every
100,000 men actually employed in the war. It was further stipulated
that a European Congress at the close of the war should endeavour to
fix more surely the principles of the Law of Nations and establish a
federative system. Above all, the allies bound themselves not to
hinder the popular wish in France respecting the form of government--a
clause which deprived the war of the Third Coalition of that
monarchical character which had pervaded the league of 1793 and, to a
less extent, that of 1799.[14]

What was the attitude of Napoleon towards this league? He certainly
took little pains to conciliate the Czar. In fact, his actions towards
Russia were almost openly provocative. Thus, while fully aware of the
interest which Alexander felt in the restoration of the King of
Sardinia, he sent the proposal that that unlucky King should receive
the Ionian Isles and Malta as indemnities for his losses, and that too
when Russia looked upon Corfu as her own. To this offer the Czar
deigned not a word in reply. Napoleon also sent an envoy to the Shah
of Persia with an offer of alliance, so as to check the advances of
Russia on the shores of the Caspian.[15]

On the other hand, he used every effort to allure Prussia, by secretly
offering her Hanover, and that too as early as the close of July.[16]
For a brief space, also, he took some pains to conciliate Austria.
This indeed was necessary: for the Court of Vienna had already
(November 6th, 1804) framed a secret agreement with Russia to make war
on Napoleon if he committed any new aggression in Italy or menaced any
part of the Turkish Empire.[17] Yet this act was really defensive.
Francis desired only to protect himself against Napoleon's ambition,
and, had he been treated with consideration, would doubtless have
clung to peace.

For a time Napoleon humoured that Court, even as regards the changes
now mooted in Italy. On January 1st, 1805, he wrote to Francis,
stating that he was about to proclaim Joseph Bonaparte King of Italy,
if the latter would renounce his claim to the crown of France, and so
keep the governments of France and Italy separate, as the Treaty of
Lunéville required; that this action would enfeeble his (Napoleon's)
power, but would carry its own recompense if it proved agreeable to
the Emperor Francis.

But it soon appeared that Joseph was by no means inclined to accept
the crown of Lombardy if it entailed the sacrifice of all hope of
succeeding to the French Empire. He had already demurred to _le vilain
titre de roi_, and on January 27th announced his final rejection of
the offer. Napoleon then proposed to Louis that he should hold that
crown in trust for his son; but the suggestion at once rekindled the
flames of jealousy which ever haunted Louis; and, after a violent
scene, the Emperor thrust his brother from the room.

Perhaps this anger was simulated. He once admitted that his rage only
mounted this high--pointing to his chin; and the refusals of his
brothers were certainly to be expected. However that may be, he now
resolved to assume that crown himself, appointing as Viceroy his
step-son, Eugène Beauharnais. True, he announced to the French Senate
that the realms of France and Italy would be kept separate: but
neither the Italian deputies, who had been summoned to Paris to vote
this dignity to their master, nor the servile Senate, nor the rulers
of Europe, were deceived. Thus, when in the early summer Napoleon
reviewed a large force that fought over again in mimic war the battle
of Marengo; when, amidst all the pomp and pageantry that art could
devise, he crowned himself in the cathedral of Milan with the iron
circlet of the old Lombard Kings, using the traditional formula: "God
gave it me, woe to him who touches it"; when, finally, he incorporated
the Ligurian Republic in the French Empire, Francis of Austria
reluctantly accepted the challenges thus threateningly cast down, and
began to arm.[18] The records of our Foreign Office show conclusively
that the Hapsburg ruler felt himself girt with difficulties: the
Austrian army was as yet ill organized: the reforms after which the
Archduke Charles had been striving were ill received by the military
clique; and the sole result had been to unsettle rather than
strengthen the army, and to break down the health of the Archduke.[19]
Yet the intention of Napoleon to treat Italy as a French province was
so insultingly paraded that Francis felt war to be inevitable, and
resolved to strike a blow while the French were still entangled in
their naval schemes. He knew well the dangers of war; he would have
eagerly welcomed any sign of really peaceful intentions at Paris; but
no signs were given; in fact, French agents were sent into Switzerland
to intrigue for a union of that land with France. Here again the pride
of the Hapsburgs was cut to the quick, and they disdained to submit to
humiliations such as were eating the heart out of the Prussian
monarchy.

The Czar, too, was far from eager for war. He had sent Novossiltzoff
to Berlin _en route_ for Paris, in the hope of coming to terms with
Napoleon, when the news of the annexation of Genoa ended the last
hopes of a compromise. "This man is insatiable," exclaimed Alexander;
"his ambition knows no bounds; he is a scourge of the world; he wants
war; well, he shall have it, and the sooner the better," The Czar at
once ordered all negotiations to be broken off. Novossiltzoff, on July
10th, declared to Baron Hardenberg, the successor of Haugwitz at the
Prussian Foreign Office, that Napoleon had now passed the utmost
limits of the Czar's patience; and he at once returned his French
passports. In forwarding them to the French ambassador at Berlin,
Hardenberg expressed the deep regret of the Prussian monarch at the
breakdown of this most salutary negotiation--a phrase which showed
that the patience of Berlin was nearly exhausted.[20]

Clearly, then, the Third Coalition was not cemented by English gold,
but by Napoleon's provocations. While England and Russia found great
difficulty in coming to an accord, and Austria was arming only from
fear, the least act of complaisance on his part would have unravelled
this ill-knit confederacy. But no such action was forthcoming. All his
letters written in North Italy after his coronation are puffed up with
incredible insolence. Along with hints to Eugène to base politics on
dissimulation and to seek only to be feared, we find letters to
Ministers at Paris scorning the idea that England and Russia can come
to terms, and asserting that the annexation of Genoa concerns England
alone; but if Austria wants to find a pretext for war, she may now
find it.

Then he hurries back to Fontainebleau, covering the distance from
Turin in eighty-five hours; and, after a brief sojourn at St. Cloud,
he reaches Boulogne. There, on August the 22nd, he hears that Austria
is continuing to arm: a few hours later comes the news that Villeneuve
has turned back to Cadiz. Fiercely and trenchantly he resolves this
fateful problem. He then sketches to Talleyrand the outlines of his
new policy. He will again press, and this time most earnestly, his
offer of Hanover to Prussia as the price of her effective alliance
against the new coalition. Perhaps this new alliance will strangle the
coalition at its birth; at any rate it will paralyze Austria.
Accordingly, he despatches to Berlin his favourite aide-de-camp,
General Duroc, to persuade the King that his alliance will save the
Continent from war.[21]

Meanwhile the Hapsburgs were completely deceived. They imagined
Napoleon to be wholly immersed in his naval enterprise, and
accordingly formed a plan of campaign, which, though admirable against
a weak and guileless foe, was fraught with danger if the python's
coils were ready for a spring. As a matter of fact, he was far better
prepared than Austria. As late as July 7th, the Court of Vienna had
informed the allies that its army would not be ready for four months;
yet the nervous anxiety of the Hapsburgs to be beforehand with
Napoleon led them to hurry on war: and on August 9th they secretly
gave their adhesion to the Russo-British alliance.

Then, too, by a strange fatuity, their move into Bavaria was to be
made with a force of only 59,000 men, while their chief masses, some
92,000 strong, were launched into Italy against the strongholds on the
Mincio. To guard the flanks of these armies, Austria had 34,000 men in
Tyrol; but, apart from raw recruits, there were fewer than 20,000
soldiers in the rest of that vast empire. In fact, the success of the
autumn campaign was known to depend on the help of the Russians, who
were expected to reach the banks of the Inn before the 20th of
October, while it was thought that the French could not possibly reach
the Danube till twenty days later.[22] It was intended, however, to
act most vigorously in Italy, and to wage a defensive campaign on the
Danube.

Such was the plan concocted at Vienna, mainly under the influence of
the Archduke Charles, who took the command of the army in Italy, while
that of the Danube was assigned to the Archduke Ferdinand and Mack,
the new Quarter-Master-General. This soldier had hitherto enjoyed a
great reputation in Austria, probably because he was the only general
who had suffered no great defeat. Amidst the disasters of 1797 he
seemed the only man able to retrieve the past, and to be shut out from
command by Thugut's insane jealousy of his "transcendent
abilities."[23] Brave he certainly was: but his mind was always swayed
by preconceived notions; he belonged to the school of "manoeuvre
strategists," of whom the Duke of Brunswick was the leader; and he now
began the campaign of 1805 with the fixed purpose of holding a
commanding military position. Such a position the Emperor Francis and
Mack had discovered in the weak fortress of Ulm and the line of the
River Iller. Towards these points of vantage the Austrians now began
to move.

The first thing was to gain over the Elector of Bavaria. The Court of
Vienna, seeking to persuade or compel that prince to join the
Coalition, made overtures (September 3rd to 6th) with which he dallied
for a day or two until an opportunity came of escaping to the fortress
of Würzburg. Mack thereupon crossed the River Inn and sought, but in
vain, to cut off the Bavarian troops from that stronghold.
Accordingly, the Austrian leader marched on to Ulm, where he arrived
in the middle of September; and, not satisfied with holding this
advanced position, he pushed on his outposts to the chief defiles of
the Black Forest, while other regiments held the valley of the River
Iller and strengthened the fortress of Memmingen. Doubtless this would
have been good strategy, had his forces been equal in numbers to those
of Napoleon. At that time the Black Forest was the only  physical barrier
between France and Southern Germany; the Rhine was then practically a
French river; and, only by holding the passes of that range could the
Austrians hope to screen Swabia from invasion on the side of Alsace.

[Illustration: BATTLE OF ULM]

But Mack forgot two essential facts. Until the Russians arrived, he
was too weak to hold so advanced a position in what was hostile
ground, now that Bavaria and the other South German States obeyed
Napoleon's summons to range themselves on his side. Further, he was
dangerously exposed on the north, as a glance at the map will show.
Ulm and the line of the Iller formed a strong defence against the
south-west: but on the north that position is singularly open: it can
be turned from the valleys of the Main, the Neckar, and the Altmühl,
all of which conduct an invader to the regions east of Ulm. Indeed, it
passes belief how even the Aulic Council could have ignored the
dangers of that position. Possibly the fact that Ulm had been stoutly
held by Kray in 1796 now induced them to overrate its present
importance; but at that time the fortified camp of Ulm was the central
knot of vast operations, whereas now it was but an advanced
outpost.[24] If Francis and his advisers were swayed by historical
reminiscences it is strange that they forgot the fate of Melas in
Piedmont. The real parallel had been provided, not by Kray, but by the
general who was cut off at Marengo. Indeed, in its broad outlines, the
campaign of Ulm resembles that of Marengo. Against foes who had thrust
their columns far from their base, Napoleon now, as in 1800,
determined to deal a crushing blow. On the part of the Austrians we
notice the same misplaced confidence, the same lack of timely news,
and the same inability to understand Napoleon's plan until his
dispositions are complete; while his strategy and tactics in 1805
recall to one's mind the masterly simplicity of design, the subtlety
and energy of execution, which led up to his triumph in the plains of
Piedmont.

Meanwhile the allies were dissipating their strength. A Russian corps,
acting from Corfu as a base, and an English expedition from Malta,
were jointly to attack St. Cyr in the south of Italy, raise the
country at his rear and compel him to surrender. This plan was left
helplessly flapping in the air by a convention which Napoleon imposed
on the Neapolitan ambassador. On September 21st Talleyrand induced
that envoy to guarantee the neutrality of the kingdom of Naples, all
belligerents being excluded from its domains. Consequently St. Cyr's
corps evacuated that land and brought a welcome reinforcement to
Masséna on the Mincio. Equally skilful was Napoleon's action as
regards Hanover. On that side also the allies planned a formidable
expedition. From the fortress of Stralsund in Swedish Pomerania, a
force of Russians and Swedes, which Gustavus burned to command, was to
march into Hanover, and, when strengthened by an Anglo-Hanoverian
corps, drive the French from the Low Countries. It is curious to
contrast the cumbrous negotiations concerning this expedition--the
quarrels about the command, the anxiety at the outset lest Villeneuve
should perhaps sail into the Baltic, the delays of the British War
Office, the remonstrances of the Czar, and the efforts to avert the
jealousy of Prussia--with the serene indifference of Napoleon as to
the whole affair. He knew full well that the war would not be decided
by diversions at the heel of Italy or on the banks of the Ems, but by
the shock of great masses of men on the Danube. He denuded Hanover of
French troops, except at its southern fortress of Hameln, so that he
could overwhelm the levies of Austria before the Russians came up. In
brief, while the Coalition sought, like a Briareus, to envelop him on
all sides, he prepared to deal a blow at its heart.

As the first part of the campaign depended almost entirely on problems
of time and space, it will be well to follow the chief movements of
the hostile forces somewhat closely. The Austrian plan aimed at
forestalling the French in the occupation of Swabia; and its apparent
success puffed up Mack with boundless confidence. At Ulm he threw up
extensive outworks to strengthen that obsolete fortress, extended his
lines to Memmingen far on the south, and trusted that the Muscovites
would come up long before the French eagles hovered above the sources
of the Danube. But at that time the Russian vanguard had not reached
Linz in Upper Austria, and not before October 10th did it appear on
the banks of the River Inn.[25]

Far from being the last to move, the French Emperor outstripped his
enemies in the speed of his preparations. Whereas the Austrians
believed he would not be able to reach the Danube in force before
November 10th, he intended to have 200,000 men in Germany by September
18th. But he knew not at first the full extent of his good fortune: it
did not occur to him that the Austrians would cross the Inn: all he
asks Talleyrand, on August 23rd, is that such news may appear in the
"Moniteur" as will gain him twenty days and give General Bertrand time
to win over Bavaria, while "I make my 200,000 men pirouette into
Germany." On August 29th the _Army of England_ became the _Grand
Army_, composed of seven corps, led by Bernadotte, Marmont, Davoust,
Soult, Lannes, Ney and Augereau. The cavalry was assigned to Murat;
while Bessières was in command of the Imperial Guard, now numbering
some 10,000 men.

Already the greater part of this vast array was beginning to move
inland; Davoust and Soult left some regiments, 30,000 strong, to guard
the flotilla, and Marmont detached 14,000 men to defend the coasts of
Holland; but the other corps on September 2nd began their march
Rhine-wards in almost their full strength. On that day Bernadotte
broke up his cantonments in Hanover, and began his march towards the
Main, on which so much was to turn. The Elector of Hesse-Cassel now
espoused Napoleon's cause. Thus, without meeting any opposition,
Bernadotte's columns reached Würzburg at the close of September; there
the Elector of Bavaria welcomed the Marshal and gave him the support
of his 20,000 troops; and at that stronghold he was also joined by
Marmont.

In order to mislead the Austrians, Napoleon remained up to September
23rd at St. Cloud or Paris; and during his stay appeared a _Senatus
Consultum_ ordering that, after January 1st, 1806, France should give
up its revolutionary calendar and revert to the Gregorian. He then set
out for Strassburg, as though the chief blows were to be dealt through
the passes of the Black Forest at the front of Mack's line of defence;
and, to encourage that general in this belief, Murat received orders
to show his horsemen in the passes held by Mack's outposts, but to
avoid any serious engagements. This would give time for the other
corps to creep up to the enemy's rear. Mack, meanwhile, had heard of
the forthcoming junction of the French and Bavarians at Würzburg, but
opined that it threatened Bohemia.[26]

Accordingly, he still clung to his lines, contenting himself with
sending a cavalry regiment to observe Bernadotte's movements; but
neither he nor his nominal chief, the Archduke Ferdinand, divined the
truth. Indeed, so far did they rely on the aid of the Russians as to
order back some regiments sent from Italy by the more sagacious
Archduke Charles; but 11,000 troops from Tyrol reached the Swabian
army. That force was now spread out so as to hold the bridges of the
Danube between Ingolstadt and Ulm; and on October 7th the Austrians
were disposed as follows: 18,000 men under Kienmayer were guarding
Ingolstadt, Neuburg, Donauwörth, Günzburg, and lesser points, while
Mack had about 35,000 men at Ulm and along the line of the Iller; the
arrival of other detachments brought the Austrian total to upwards of
70,000 men. Against this long scattered line Napoleon led greatly
superior forces.[27] The development of his plans proceeded apace.
Though Prussia had proclaimed her strict neutrality, he did not
scruple to violate it by sending Bernadotte's corps through her
principality of Ansbach, which lay in their path. He charged
Bernadotte to "offer many assurances favourable to Prussia, and
testify all possible affection and respect for her--and then rapidly
cross her land, asserting the impossibility of doing anything else."
Accordingly, that Marshal was lavish in his regrets and apologies, but
ordered his columns to defile past the battalions and squadrons of
Prussia, that were powerless to resent the outrage.[28]

The news of this trespass on Prussian territory reached the ears of
Frederick William at a critical time, when the Czar sent to Berlin a
kind of ultimatum, intimating that, even if Prussia deserted the cause
of European independence, Russian troops must nevertheless pass
through part of Prussian Poland. Stung by this note from his usually
passive demeanour, the King sent off an answer that such a step would
entail a Franco-Prussian alliance against the violators of his
territory, when the news came that Napoleon had actually done at
Ansbach what Alexander had announced his intention of doing in the
east. The revulsion of feeling was violent: for a short space the King
declared he would dismiss Duroc and make war on Napoleon for this
insult, but in the end he called a cabinet council and invited the
Czar to come to Berlin.[29]

While the Gallophil counsellors, Haugwitz and Lombard, were using all
their arts to hinder the Prusso-Russian understanding, the meshes were
being woven fast around Mack and the Archduke Ferdinand. Bernadotte's
corps, after making history in its march, was detached to the
south-east so as to hold in check the Russian vanguard, and to give
plenty of room to the troops that were to cut off Mack from Austria, a
move which may be compared with the march of Bonaparte to Milan before
he essayed the capture of Melas. Both steps bespeak his desire to have
ample space at his back before circling round his prey.

On October 6th the corps of Soult and Lannes, helped by Murat's
powerful cavalry, cut the Austrian lines on the Danube at Donauwörth,
and gained a firm footing on the right bank. Over the crossing thus
secured far in Mack's rear, the French poured in dense array, and
marched south and south-west towards the back of the Austrian
positions, while Ney's corps marched to seize the chief bridges over
the Danube.

A study of the processes of Mack's brain at this time is not without
interest. It shows the danger of intrusting the fate of an army to a
man who cannot weigh evidence. Mack was not ignorant of the course of
events, though his news generally came late. The mischief was that his
brain warped the news. On October 6th he wrote to Vienna that the
enemy seemed about to aim a blow at his communications: on October
7th, when he heard of the loss of Donauwörth, he described it as an
unfortunate event, which no one thought to be possible. The Archduke
now urged the need of an immediate retreat towards Munich, and marched
in an easterly direction on Günzburg: another Austrian division of
8,000 men moved on Wertingen, where, on October 8th, it was furiously
attacked by the troops of Murat and Lannes. At first the Imperialists
firmly kept their ranks; but the unequal contest closed with a hasty
flight, which left 2,000 men in the hands of the French Then Murat,
pressing on through the woods, cut off Mack's retreat to Augsburg. Yet
that general still took a cheerful view of his position. On that same
day he wrote from Günzburg that, as soon as the enemy had passed over
the Lech, he would cross the Danube and cut their communications at
Nördlingen. He wrote thus when Ney's corps was striving to seize the
Danube bridges below Ulm. If Mack were to march north-east against the
French communications it was of the utmost importance for him to hold
the chief of these bridges: but Ney speedily seized three of them, and
on the 9th was able to draw closer the toils around Ulm.

From his position at Augsburg the French Emperor now directed the
final operations; and, as before Marengo, he gave most heed to that
side by which he judged his enemy would strive to break through, in
this case towards Kempten and Tyrol. This would doubtless have been
Mack's safest course; for he was strong enough to brush aside Soult,
gain Tyrol, seal up its valleys against Napoleon, and carry
reinforcements to the Archduke Charles. But he was still intent on his
Nördlingen scheme, even after the loss of the Danube bridges exposed
his march thither to flank attacks from the four French corps now
south of the river. Nevertheless, Napoleon's miscalculation of Mack's
plans, or, as Thiers has striven to prove, a misunderstanding of his
orders by Murat, gave the Austrians a chance such as fortune rarely
bestows.[30]

In spite of Ney's protests, one of his divisions, that led by Dupont,
had been left alone to guard the northern bank of the Danube, a
position where it might have been overwhelmed by an enterprising foe.
What is more extraordinary, Dupont, with only 6,000 men, was charged
to advance on Ulm, and carry it by storm. On the 11th he accordingly
advanced against Mack's fortified camp north of that city. The
Austrians met him in force, and, despite the utmost heroism of his
troops, finally wrested the village of Hasslach from his grasp; later
in the day a cloud of their horsemen, swooping round his right wing,
cut up his tired troops, took 1,000 prisoners, and left 1,500 dead and
wounded on the field. Among the booty was found a despatch of Napoleon
ordering Dupont to carry Ulm by storm--which might have shown them
that the French Emperor believed that city to be all but deserted.[31]
In truth, Napoleon's miscalculation opened for Mack a path of safety;
and had he at once marched away to the north, the whole aspect of
affairs might have changed. The Russian vanguard was on the banks of
the Inn: all the French, except the relics of Dupont's division, were
south of the Danube, and a few vigorous blows at their communications
might have greatly embarrassed troops that had little artillery, light
stores of ammunition, and lived almost entirely on the produce of the
country. We may picture to ourselves the fierce blows that, in such a
case, Frederick the Great would have rained on his assailants as he
wheeled round on their rear and turned their turning movements. With
Frederick matched against Napoleon, the Lech and the Danube would have
witnessed a very cyclone of war.

But Mack was not Frederick: and he had to do with a foe who speedily
made good an error. On October 13th, when Mack seemed about to cut off
the French from the Main, he received news through Napoleon's spies
that the English had effected a landing at Boulogne, and a revolution
had broken out in France. The tidings found easy entrance into a brain
that had a strange bias towards pleasing falsities and rejected
disagreeable facts. At once he leaped to the conclusion that the moves
of Soult, Murat, Lannes, Marmont, and Ney round his rear were merely
desperate efforts to cut back a way to Alsace. He therefore held fast
to his lines, made only feeble efforts to clear the northern road, and
despatched reinforcements to Memmingen. The next day brought other
news; that Memmingen had been invested by Soult; that Ney by a
brilliant dash across the Danube at Elchingen had routed an Austrian
division there, and was threatening Ulm from the north-east; and that
the other French columns were advancing from the south-east. Yet Mack,
still viewing these facts in the twilight of his own fancies, pictured
them as the efforts of despair, not as the drawing in of the hunter's
toils.

He was now almost alone in his reading of events. The Archduke
Ferdinand, though nominally in supreme command, had hitherto deferred
to Mack's age and experience, as the Emperor Francis enjoined. But he
now urged the need of instantly marching away to the north with all
available forces. Still Mack clung to his notion that it was the
French who were in sore straits; and he forbade the evacuation of Ulm;
whereupon the Archduke, with Schwarzenberg, Kollowrath, Gyulai, and
all whose instincts or rank prompted and enabled them to defy the
madman's authority, assembled 1,500 horsemen and rode off by the
northern road. It was high time; for Ney, firmly established at
Elchingen, was pushing on his vanguard towards the doomed city: Murat
and Lannes were charged to support him on the north bank, while across
the river Marmont, and further south Soult, cut off the retreat on
Tyrol.

At last the scales fell from Mack's eyes. Even now he protested
against the mere mention of surrender. But again he was disappointed.
Ney stormed the Michaelsberg north of Ulm, a position on which the
Austrians had counted; and on October 17th the hapless commander
agreed to terms of capitulation, whereby his troops were to march out
and lay down their arms in six days' time, if an Austro-Russian army
able to raise the siege did not come on the scene. These conditions
were afterwards altered by the captor, who, wheedling his captive with
a few bland words, persuaded him to surrender on the 20th on condition
that Ney and his corps remained before Ulm until the 25th. This was
Mack's last offence against his country and his profession; his assent
to this wily compromise at once set free the other French corps for
offensive operations; and that too when every day was precious to
Austria, Russia, and Prussia.

On October 20th the French Emperor, with a brilliant staff, backed by
the solid wall of his Guard and flanked by eight columns of his
troops, received the homage of the vanquished. First came their
commander, who, bowed down by grief, handed his sword to the victor
with the words, "Here is the unfortunate Mack." Then there filed out
to the foot of the Michaelsberg 20,000 foot and 3,000 horse, who laid
down their arms before the Emperor, some with defiant rage, the most
part in stolid dejection, while others flung them away with every sign
of indecent joy.[32] As if the elements themselves conspired to
enhance the brilliance of Napoleon's triumph, the sun, which had been
obscured for days by storm-clouds and torrents of rain, now shone
brightly forth, bathing the scene in the mild radiance of autumn,
lighting up the French forces disposed on the slopes of that natural
amphitheatre, while it cast deep shadows from the long trail of the
vanquished beneath. The French were electrified by the sight: the
fatigues of their forced marches through the dusty heats of September,
and the slush, swamps, and torrents of the last few days were all
forgotten, and they hailed with jubilant shouts the chief whose
sagacity had planned and achieved a triumph hitherto unequalled in the
annals of war. "Our Emperor," said they, "has found out a new way of
making war: he no longer makes it with our arms, but with our
legs."[33]

Meanwhile the other Austrian detachments were being hunted down. Only
a few men escaped from Memmingen into Tyrol: the division, which, if
properly supported, might have cut a way through to Nördlingen three
days earlier, was now overwhelmed by the troops of Murat and Lannes;
out of 13,000 foot-soldiers very few escaped. Most of the horsemen
succeeded in joining the Archduke Ferdinand, on whose track Murat now
flung himself with untiring energy. The _beau sabreur_ swept through
part of Ansbach in pursuit, came up with Ferdinand near Nuremberg, and
defeated his squadrons, their chief, with about 1,700 horse and some
500 mounted artillerymen, finally reaching the shelter of the Bohemian
Mountains. All the rest of Mack's great array had been engulfed.

Thus closed the first scene of the War of the Third Coalition. Hasty
preparations, rash plans, and, above all, Mack's fatal ingenuity in
reading his notions into facts--these were the causes of a disaster
which ruined the chances of the allies. The Archduke Charles, who had
been foiled by Masséna's stubborn defence, was at once recalled from
Italy in order to cover Vienna; and, worst of all, the Court of Berlin
now delayed drawing the sword.

Yet, even amidst the unstinted boons that she showered on Napoleon by
land, Fortune rudely baffled him at sea. When he was hurrying from Ulm
towards the River Inn, to carry the war into Austria, he heard that
the French navy had been shattered. Trafalgar was fought the day after
Mack's army filed out of Ulm. The greatest sea-fight of the century
was the outcome of Napoleon's desire that his ships should carry
succour to his troops in Italy. For this voyage the Emperor was about
to substitute Admiral Rosily for Villeneuve: and the unfortunate
admiral, divining that resolve, sought by a bold stroke to retrieve
his fortunes. He put to sea, and Trafalgar was the result. It would be
superfluous to describe this last and most splendid of Nelson's
exploits; but a few words as to the bearing of this great victory on
the events of that time may not be out of place. It is certain that
Villeneuve at Trafalgar fought under more favourable conditions than
in the conflict of July 22nd. He had landed his very numerous sick,
his crews had been refreshed and reinforced, and, above all, the worst
of the Spanish ships had been replaced by seaworthy and serviceable
craft. Yet out of the thirty-three sail of the line, he lost eighteen
to an enemy that numbered only twenty-seven sail; and that fact alone
absolves him from the charge of cowardice in declining to face
Cornwallis and Calder in July with ships that were cumbered with sick
and badly needed refitting.

Then again: it is often stated that Trafalgar saved England from
invasion. To refute this error it is merely needful to remind the
reader that all immediate fear of invasion was over, when, at the
close of August, Napoleon wheeled the Grand Army against Austria. Not
until the Continent was conquered could the landing in Kent become
practicable. That opportunity occurred two years later, after Tilsit;
then, in truth, the United Kingdom was free from panic because
Trafalgar had practically destroyed the French navy. For these
islands, then, the benefits of Trafalgar were prospective. But, for
the British Empire, they were immediate. Every French, Dutch, and
Spanish colony that now fell into our hands was in great measure the
fruit of Nelson's victory, which heralded the second and vaster stage
of imperial growth.

Finally, the decisive advantage which Britain now gained over Napoleon
at sea compelled him, if he would realize the world-wide schemes ever
closest to his heart, to adopt the method of warfare against us which
he had all along contemplated as an effective alternative. As far back
as February, 1798, he pointed out that there were three ways of
attacking and ruining England, either a direct invasion, or a French
control of North Germany which would ruin British commerce, or an
expedition to the Indies. After Trafalgar the first of these
alternatives was impossible, and the last receded for a time into the
background. The second now took the first place in his thoughts; he
could only bring England to his feet and gain a world-empire by
shutting out her goods from the whole of the Continent, and thus
condemning her to industrial strangulation. In a word, Trafalgar
necessitated the adoption of the Continental System, which was built
up by the events now to be described.

    Note to the Third Edition.--An American critic has charged me with
    inconsistency in saying that the Third Coalition was not built up
    by English gold, because I state (p. 5) that the first advances
    were made by England to Russia. I ought to have used the phrase
    "the first _written_ proposals that I have found were made," etc.
    Czartoryski's "Memoirs" (vol. ii., chs. ii.-iii.), to which I
    referred my readers for details, show clearly that Alexander and
    his advisers looked on a rupture with France as inevitable, but
    wished to temporize for some three months or so, until certain
    matters were cleared up; they therefore cautiously sounded the
    position at Vienna and London. This passage from Czartoryski (vol.
    ii., ch. iii.) proves that Russia wanted the English alliance:

    "After the diplomatic rupture consequent upon the execution of the
    Duc d'Enghien, it became indispensable to come to an understanding
    with the only Power, except Russia, which thought herself strong
    enough to contend with France--to ascertain as thoroughly as
    possible what were her inclinations and designs, the principles of
    her policy, and those which she could be led to adopt in certain
    contingencies. It would have been a great advantage to obtain the
    concurrence in our views of so powerful a State as England, and to
    strive with her for the same objects; but for this it was
    necessary, not only to make sure of her present inclinations, but
    to weigh well the possibilities of the future after the death of
    George III. and the fall of the Pitt Ministry. We had to make
    England understand that the wish to fight Napoleon was not in
    itself sufficient to establish an indissoluble bond between her
    Government and that of St. Petersburg...."

    In "F.O.," Russia, No. 55, is a despatch of our ambassador at St.
    Petersburg, Admiral Warren, of June 30, 1804, in which he reports
    Czartoryski's concern at rumours of negotiations between England
    and France: "The prince [Czartoryski] remarked that he could not
    suppose, after what had passed between the two Courts, and the
    manner in which the Emperor [Alexander] had explained himself to
    England, and after the measures which Russia had since proposed,
    that Great Britain would make a peace at once by herself."

    Of these earlier negotiations I have found no trace; but obviously
    the first proposals for an alliance must have come from Russia.
    Sweden was the first to propose a monarchical league against
    Napoleon. (See my article in the "Revue Napoléonienne" for June,
    1902.)

CHAPTER XXIII

AUSTERLITZ

After the capitulation of Ulm, the French Emperor marched against the
Russian army, which, as he told his troops, _English gold had brought
from the ends of the earth._ As is generally the case with coalitions,
neither of the allies was ready in time or sent its full quota. In
place of the 54,000 which Alexander had covenanted to send to
Austria's support, he sent as yet only 46,000; and of these 8,000 were
detached into Podolia in order to watch the warlike moves of the
Turks, whom the French had stirred up against the Muscovite.

But Alexander had another and weightier excuse for not denuding his
realm of troops, namely, the ambiguous policy of Prussia. Up to the
middle of October this great military Power clung to her somewhat
threatening neutrality, an attitude not unlike that of the
Scandinavian States, which, in 1691, remained deaf to the entreaties
of William of Orange to take up the cause of European freedom against
Louis XIV., and were dubbed the Third Party. It would seem, however,
that the Prussian King had some grounds for his conduct: he feared the
Polish influence which Czartoryski wielded over the Czar, and saw in
the Russian request for a right of way through Prussian Poland a
deep-laid scheme for the seizure of that territory. Indeed, the
letters of Czartoryski prove that such a plan was pressed forward, and
found much favour with the Czar, though at the last moment he
prudently shelved it.[34]

For a time the hesitations of Prussia were ended by Napoleon's
violation of Ansbach, and by Alexander's frank explanations at
Potsdam; but meanwhile the delays caused by Prussia's suspicions had
marred the Austrian plans. A week's grace granted by Napoleon, or a
week gained by the Russians on their actual marching time, would have
altered the whole situation in Bavaria--and Prussia would have drawn
the sword against France to avenge the insult at Ansbach.

On October 10th Hardenberg informed the Austrian ambassador,
Metternich, that Frederick William was on the point of declaring for
the allies. Nothing, however, was done until Alexander reached
Potsdam, and the first news that he received on his arrival (October
25th) was of the surrender of Ulm. Nevertheless, the influence of the
Czar checkmated the efforts of Haugwitz and the French party, and kept
that Government to its resolve, which on November 3rd took the form of
the Treaty of Potsdam between Russia, Austria, and Prussia. Frederick
William pledged himself to offer the armed mediation of Prussia, and,
if it were refused by Napoleon, to join the allies. The Prussian
demands were as follows: indemnities for the King of Sardinia in
Lombardy, Liguria, and Parma; the independence of Naples, Holland,
Germany, and Switzerland; and the Mincio as Austria's boundary in
Italy.[35]

An envoy was to offer these terms to Napoleon, and to bring back a
definite answer within one month from the time of his departure, and
in the meantime 180,000 Prussians prepared to threaten his flank and
rear. Alexander also secretly pledged himself to use his influence
with George III. to gain Hanover for Frederick William at the close of
the war, England meanwhile subsidizing Prussia and her Saxon allies on
the usual scale. The Czar afterwards accompanied the King and Queen to
the crypt of the Great Frederick, kissed the tomb, and, as he took his
leave of their majesties, cast a significant look at the altar.[36]

Did he fear the peace-loving tendencies of the King, or the treachery
of Haugwitz? It is difficult to see good faith in every detail of the
treaty. Apart from the strange assumption that England would subsidize
Prussia and also give up Hanover, the manner in which the armed
mediation was to be offered left several loopholes for escape. After
the surrender of Ulm, speedy and vigorous action was needed to restore
the balance; yet a month's delay was bargained for. Then, too,
Haugwitz, who was charged with this most important mission, deferred
his departure for ten days on the plea that Prussia's forces could not
be ready before the middle of December. Such was the statement of the
leisurely Duke of Brunswick; but it can scarcely be reconciled with
Frederick William's threat, a month earlier, of immediate war against
the Russians if they entered his lands. Yet now that monarch approved
of the delay. Haugwitz therefore did not set out till November 14th,
and by that time Napoleon was master of Vienna, and the allies were
falling back into Moravia.

We now turn to the scene of war. For the first time in modern history
the Hapsburg capital had fallen into the hands of a foreign foe.
Napoleon now installed himself at the stately palace of Schönbrunn,
while Francis was fleeing to Olmütz and the Archdukes Charles and John
were struggling in the defiles of the Alps to disengage themselves
from the vanguard of Masséna. The march of the French on Vienna, and
thence northwards to Brünn, led to only one incident of general
interest, namely, the filching away from the Austrians of the bridge
over the Danube to the north of Vienna. As it nears the city, that
great river spreads out into several channels, the largest being on
the north. The wooden bridge further up the river having been burnt by
the Russian rearguard, there remained only the bridge or bridges,
opposite the city, on the possession of which Napoleon set much store.
He therefore charged Murat and Lannes to secure them if possible.

Murat was smarting under the Emperor's displeasure for a rash advance
on Vienna which had wellnigh cost the existence of Mortier's corps on
the other bank. Indeed, only by the most resolute bravery did the
remnant of that corps hew its way through overwhelming numbers. Murat,
who should have kept closely in touch with Mortier by a flotilla of
boats, was eager to retrieve his fault, and, with Lannes, Bertrand,
and an officer of engineers, he now approached the first part of the
bridge as if for a parley during an informal armistice which had just
been discussed but not concluded. The French Marshals had disposed the
grenadiers of General Oudinot, a body of men as renowned as their
leader for fighting qualities, behind some thickets that spread along
the southern bank and partly screened the approach. The plank
barricade at the southern end was now thrown down, and the four
Frenchmen advanced. An Austrian mounted sentinel fired his carbine and
galloped away to the main bridge; thereupon the four men advanced,
called to the officer there in command as if for a parley, and stopped
him in the act of firing the gunpowder stored beneath the bridge, with
the assurance that an armistice was, or was about to be, concluded.

Reaching the northern end they repeated their tale, and claimed to see
the commander. While the defenders were hesitating, Oudinot's
grenadiers were rapidly marching forward. As soon as they were seen,
the Austrians prepared once more to fire the bridge. Again they were
implored to desist, as peace was as good as signed. But when the
grenadiers had reached the northern bank, the mask was dropped: fresh
troops were hurrying up and the chance of saving the bridge from their
grasp was now lost. By these means did Murat and Lannes secure an
undisputed passage to the northern bank, for which four years later
the French had desperately to fight. Napoleon was delighted at Murat's
exploit, which greatly furthered his pursuit of the allies, and he at
once restored that Marshal to high favour. But those who placed
gentlemanly conduct above the glamour of a trickster's success were
not slow, even then, to express their disapproval of this act of
perfidy.[37]

The prolonged retreat into Moravia, the unexpected feebleness of the
Hapsburg arms, and the lack of supplies weighed heavily on Alexander's
spirits, as is shown in his letter from Olmütz to the King of Prussia
on November 19th: "Our position is more than critical: we stand almost
alone against the French, who are close on our heels. As for the
Austrian army, it does not exist.... If your armies advance, the whole
position will alter at once."[38] A few days later, however, when
27,000 more Russians were at hand, including his Imperial Guard, the
Czar passed from the depths of depression to the heights of
confidence. The caution of his wary commander, Kutusoff, who urged a
Fabian policy of delay and retreat, now began to weary him. To retire
into northern Hungary seemed ignominious. And though Frederick William
held to his resolve of not drawing the sword before December 15th, and
by that time the Archduke Charles with a large army was expected below
Vienna, yet the susceptible young autocrat spurned the behests of
irksome prudence. In vain did Kutusoff and Schwarzenberg urge the need
of delay and retreat: Alexander gave more heed to the rash counsels of
his younger officers. An advance was ordered on Brünn, and a
successful cavalry skirmish at Wischau confirmed the Czar in his
change from the strategy of Fabius to that of Varro.

Napoleon, who was now at Brünn, had already divined this change in the
temper of his foe, and called back his men with the express purpose of
humouring Alexander's latest mood and tempting him on to a decisive
battle. He saw clearly the advantage of fighting at once. The renewed
offers of an armistice, which he received from the prudent Francis,
might alone have convinced him of this; and they came in time to give
him an argument, telling enough to daunt the Prussian envoy, who was
now drawing near to his headquarters.

After proceeding towards Vienna and being sent back to Brünn, Haugwitz
arrived there on November 29th.[39] Of the four hours' private
conference that ensued with Napoleon we have but scanty records, and
those by Haugwitz himself, who had every reason for warping the truth.
He states that he was received with icy coldness, and at once saw that
the least threat of hostile pressure by Prussia would drive Napoleon
to make a separate peace with Austria. But after the first hour the
Emperor appeared to thaw: he discussed the question of a Continental
peace and laid aside all resentment at Prussia's conduct: finally, he
gave a general assent to her proposals, on two conditions, namely,
that the allied force then in Hanover should not be allowed by Prussia
to invade Holland, and that the French garrison in the fortress of
Hameln, now compassed about by Prussians, should be provisioned. To
both of these requests Haugwitz assented, and pledged the word of his
King, an act of presumption which that monarch was to repudiate.

While exceeding his instructions on this side, Haugwitz did
practically nothing to advance the chief business of his mission.
Either his own fears, or the crafty mixture of threats and flattery
that cajoled so many envoys, led him to neglect the interests of
Prussia, and to play into the hands of the very man whose ambition he
was sent to check. After the interview, when the envoy had retired to
his lodging, Caulaincourt came up in haste to warn him that a battle
was imminent, that his personal safety might be endangered, and that
Napoleon requested him to repair to Vienna, where he might consult
with Talleyrand on affairs of State. Horses and an escort were ready,
and Haugwitz set out for that city, where he arrived on November 30th,
only to find that Talleyrand was strictly forbidden to do more than
entertain him with commonplaces. Thus, the all-important question as
to the action of Prussia's legions was again postponed, even when
150,000 Prussians and Saxons were ready to march against the French
communications.

Napoleon's letter of November 30th to Talleyrand reveals his secret
anxiety at this time. In truth, the crisis was terrible. With a
superior force in front, with the Archdukes Ferdinand and Charles
threatening to raise Bohemia and Hungary on his flanks, while two
Prussian armies were about to throw themselves on his rear, his
position was fully as serious as that of Hannibal before Cannæ, from
which the Carthaginian freed himself only by that staggering blow. Did
that example inspire the French Emperor, or did he take counsel from
his own boundless resources of brain and will? Certain it is that,
after a passing fit of discouragement, he braced himself for a final
effort, and staked all on the effect of one mighty stroke. In order to
hurry on the battle he feigned discouragement and withdrew his lines
from Austerlitz to the Goldbach. Already he had sent General Savary to
the Czar with proposals for a short truce.[40] The word truce now
spelt guile; its offer through Savary, whose hands were stained with
the blood of the Duc d'Enghien, was in itself an insult, and Alexander
gave that envoy the coolest reception. In return he sent Prince
Dolgoruki, the leader of the bellicose youths now high in favour, who
proudly declared to the French Emperor the wishes of his master for
the independence of Europe--adding among other things that Holland
must be free and have Belgium added to it.

This suggestion greatly amused Napoleon, who replied that Russia ought
now to think of her own advantages on the side of Turkey. The answer
convinced the Czar that Napoleon dreaded a conflict in his dangerously
advanced position. He knew not his antagonist's resources. Napoleon
had hurried up every available regiment. Bernadotte's corps was
recalled from the frontier of Bohemia; Friant's division of 4,000 men
was ordered up from Pressburg; and by forced marches it also was nigh
at hand on the night of December 1st, worn with fatigue after covering
an immense space in two days, but ready to do excellent service on the
morrow.[41] By this timely concentration Napoleon raised his forces to
a total of at least 73,000 men, while the enemy founded their plan on
the assumption that Napoleon had less than 50,000, and would scarcely
resist the onset of superior forces.

Their plan was rash, even for an army which numbered about 80,000 men.
The Austrian General Weyrother had convinced the Czar that an
energetic advance of his left wing, which rested on the southern spurs
of the Pratzenberg, would force back Napoleon's right, which was
ranged between the villages of Kobelnitz and Sokelnitz, and so roll up
his long line that stretched beyond Schlapanitz. This move, if
successful, would not only win the day, but decide the campaign, by
cutting off the French from their supplies coming from the south and
driving them into the exhausted lands around Olmütz. Such was
Weyrother's scheme, which enchanted the Czar and moved the fears of
the veteran Kutusoff: it was expounded to the Russian and Austrian
generals after midnight on December the 2nd. Strong in the great
central hill, the Pratzenberg, and the cover of its village at the
foot, the Czar had no fear for his centre: to his right or northern
wing he gave still less heed, as it rested firmly on villages and was
powerful in cavalry and artillery; but his left wing, comprising fully
two-fifths of the allied army, was expected easily to defeat
Napoleon's weak and scattered right, and so decide the day. Kutusoff
saw the peril of massing so great a force there and weakening the
centre, but sadly held his peace.

Napoleon had already divined their secret. In his order of battle he
took his troops into his confidence, telling them that, while the
enemy marched to turn his right, they would expose their flank to his
blows. To announce this beforehand was strangely bold, and it has been
thought that he had the plan from some traitor on the enemy's staff.
No proof of this has been given; and such an explanation seems
superfluous to those who have observed Napoleon's uncanny power of
fathoming his adversary's designs. The idea of withdrawing one wing in
order to tempt the foe unduly to prolong his line on that side, and
then to crush it at the centre, or sever it from the centre, is common
both to Castiglione and Austerlitz. It is true, the peculiarities of
the ground, the ardour of the Russian attack, and the vastness of the
operations lent to the present conflict a splendour and a horror which
Castiglione lacked. But the tactics which won both battles were
fundamentally the same.

He had studied the ground in front of Austerlitz; and the priceless
gift of strategic imagination revealed to him what a rash and showy
leader would be certain to do on that ground;[42] he tempted him to
it, and the announcement of the enemy's plan to the French soldiery
supplied the touch of good comradeship which insured their utmost
devotion on the morrow. At midnight, as he returned from visiting the
outposts, the soldiers greeted him with a weird illumination: by a
common impulse they tore down the straw from their rude shelters and
held aloft the burning wisps on long poles, dancing the while in
honour of the short gray-coated figure, and shouting, "It is the
anniversary of the coronation. Long live the Emperor." Thus was the
great day ushered in. The welkin glowed with this tribute of an army's
heroworship: the frost-laden clouds echoed back the multitudinous
acclaim; and the Russians, as they swung forward their left, surmised
that, after all, the French would stand their ground and fight, whilst
others saw in the flare a signal that Napoleon was once more about to
retreat.

December the 2nd may well be the most famous day of the Napoleonic
calendar: it was the day of his coronation, it was the day of
Austerlitz, and, a generation later, another Napoleon chose it for his
_coup d'état_. The "sun of Austerlitz," which the nephew then hailed,
looked down on a spectacle far different from that which he wished to
gild with borrowed splendour. Struggling dimly through dense banks of
mist, it shone on the faces of 73,000 Frenchmen resolved to conquer or
to die: it cast weird shadows before the gray columns of Russia and
the white-coats of Austria as they pressed in serried ranks towards
the frozen swamps of the Goldbach. At first the allies found little
opposition; and Kienmayer's horse cleared the French from Tellnitz and
the level ground beyond. But Friant's division, hurrying up from the
west, restored the fight and drove the first assailants from the
village. Others, however, were pressing on, twenty-nine battalions
strong, and not all the tenacious bravery of Davoust's soldiery
availed to hold that spot. Nor was it necessary. Napoleon's plan was
to let the allied left compromise itself on this side, while he rained
the decisive blows at its joint with the centre on the southern spur
of the Pratzenberg.

For this reason he reduced Davoust to defensive tactics, for which his
stubborn methodical genius eminently fitted him, until the French
centre had forced the Russians from the plateau. Opposite or near that
height he had posted the corps of Soult and Bernadotte, supporting
them with the grenadiers of Oudinot and the Imperial Guard.
Confronting these imposing forces was the Russian centre, weakened by
the heavy drafts sent towards Tellnitz, but strong in its position and
in the experience of its leader Kutusoff. Caution urged him to hold
back his men to the last moment, until the need of giving cohesion to
the turning movement led the Czar impatiently to order his advance.
Scarcely had the Russians descended beyond Pratzen when they were
exposed to a furious attack. Vandamme, noted even then as one of the
hardest hitters in the army, was leading his division of Soult's corps
up the northern slopes of the plateau; by a sidelong slant his men cut
off a detachment of Russians in the village, and, aided by the brigade
of Thiébault, swarmed up the hill at a speed which surprised and
unsteadied its defenders. Oudinot's grenadiers and the Imperial Guard
were ready to sustain Soult: but the men of his corps had the glory of
seizing the plateau and driving back the Russians. Yet these returned
to the charge. Alexander and Kutusoff saw the importance of the
heights, and brought up a great part of their reserves. Soon the
divisions of  Vandamme and St. Hilaire were borne back;
and it needed all the grand fighting powers of their troops to hold up
against the masses of howling Russians. For two hours the battle there
swayed to and fro; and Thiébault has censured Napoleon for the lack of
support, and Soult for his apathy, during this soldiers' battle.

[Illustration: BATTLE OF AUSTERLITZ]

But the Emperor was awaiting the development of events on the wings. A
sharp fight of all arms was raging on the plain further to the north.
There the allies at first gained ground, the Austrian horse well
maintaining its old fame: but the infantry of Lannes' corps, supported
by powerful artillery ranged on a small conical hill, speedily checked
their charges; the French horse, marshalled by Murat and Kellermann
somewhat after the fashion of the British cavalry at Waterloo, so as
to support the squares and dash through the intervals in pursuit, soon
made most effective charges upon the dense squadrons of the allies,
and finally a general advance of Lannes and Murat overthrew the
wavering lines opposite and chased them back towards the small town of
Austerlitz.

Thus by noon the lines of fighting swerved till they ranged along the
course of the Littawa stream, save where the allies had thrust forward
a long and apparently successful wedge beyond Tellnitz. The Czar saw
the danger of this almost isolated wing, and sought to keep touch with
it; but the defects of the allied plan were now painfully apparent.
Napoleon, having the interior lines, while his foes were scattered
over an irregular arc, could reinforce his hard-pressed right. There
Davoust was being slowly borne back, when the march of Duroc with part
of the Imperial Guard restored the balance on that side. The French
centre also was strengthened by the timely arrival of part of
Bernadotte's corps. That Marshal detached a division towards the
northern slopes of the plateau; for he divined that there his master
would need every man to deal the final blows.[43]

In truth, Alexander and Kutusoff were struggling hard to regain the
Pratzenberg. Four times did the Muscovites fling themselves on the
French centre, and not without some passing gleams of success. Here
occurred the most famous cavalry fight of the war. The Russian Guards,
mounted on superb horses, had cut up two of Vandamme's battalions,
when Rapp rode to their rescue with the chasseurs of the French
Imperial Guard. These choice bodies of horsemen met with a terrible
shock, which threw the Russians into disorder. Rallied by other
squadrons, these now overthrew their assailants and seemed about to
overpower them, when Bessières with the heavy cavalry of the Guard
fell on the flank of the Muscovite horse and drove their lines, horse
and foot, into the valley beyond.

Assured of his centre, Napoleon now launched Soult's corps down the
south-western spurs of the plateau upon the flank and rear of the
allied left: this unexpected onset was decisive: the French, sweeping
down the slopes with triumphant shouts, cut off several battalions on
the banks of the Goldbach, scattered others in headlong flight towards
Brünn, and drove the greater part down to the Lake of Tellnitz. Here
the troubles of the allies culminated. A few gained the narrow marshy
gap between the two lakes; but dense bodies found no means of escape
save the frozen surface of the upper lake. In some parts the ice bore
the weight of the fugitives; but where they thronged pell-mell, or
where it was cut up by the plunging fire of the French cannon on the
heights, crowds of men sank to destruction. The victors themselves
stood aghast at this spectacle; and, for the credit of human nature be
it said, many sought to save their drowning foes. Among others, the
youthful Marbot swam to a floe to help bring a Russian officer to
land, a chivalrous exploit which called forth the praise of Napoleon.
The Emperor brought this glorious day to a fitting close by visiting
the ground most thickly strewn with his wounded, and giving directions
for their treatment or removal. As if satisfied with the victory, he
gave little heed to the pursuit. In truth, never since Marlborough cut
the Franco-Bavarian army in twain at Blenheim, had there been a battle
so terrible in its finale, and so decisive in its results as this of
the three Emperors, which cost the allies 33,000 men and 186 cannon.

The Emperors Alexander and Francis fled eastwards into the night.
Between them there was now a tacit understanding that the campaign was
at an end. On that night Francis sent proposals for a truce; and in
two days' time Napoleon agreed to an armistice (signed on December
6th) on condition that Francis would send away the Russian army and
entirely exclude that of Prussia from his territories. A contribution
of 100,000,000 francs was also laid upon the Hapsburg dominions. On
the next day Alexander pledged himself to withdraw his army at once;
and Francis proceeded to treat for peace with Napoleon. This was an
infraction of the treaties of the Third Coalition, which prescribed
that no separate peace should be made.

Under the circumstances, the conduct of the Hapsburgs was pardonable:
but the seeming break-up of the coalition furnished the Court of
Berlin with a good reason for declining to bear the burden alone. It
was not Austerlitz that daunted Frederick William; for, after hearing
of that disaster, he wrote that he would be true to his pledge given
on November 3rd. But then, on the decisive day (December 15th), came
the news of the defection of Austria, the withdrawal of Alexander's
army, and the closing of the Hapsburg lands to a Prussian force. These
facts absolved Frederick William from his obligations to those Powers,
and allowed him with perfect good faith to keep his sword in the
scabbard. The change, it is true, sadly dulled the warlike ardour of
his army; but it could not be called desertion of Russia and
Austria.[44] The disgrace came later, when, on Christmas Day, Haugwitz
reached Berlin, and described to the King and Ministers his interview
with Napoleon in the palace of Schönbrunn, and the treaty which the
victor then and there offered to Prussia at the sword's point.

For most men a great victory such as Austerlitz would have brought a
brief spell of rest, especially after the ceaseless toils and
anxieties of the previous fortnight. Yet now, after ridding himself of
all fear of Austria, Napoleon at once used every device of his subtle
statecraft to dissolve the nascent coalition. And Fortune had willed
that, when flushed with triumph, he should have to deal with a
timorous time-server.

It is the curse of a policy of keeping up a dainty balance in a
hurricane that it unmans the balancer, until at last the peacemaker
resembles a juggler. A decade of compromise and evasion of
difficulties had enfeebled the spirit of Prussia, until the hardest
trial for her King was to take any step that could not be retraced. He
had often spoken "feelingly, if not energetically," of the
predicaments of his position between France, England, and Russia.[45]
And, as in the case of that other _bon père de famille_, Louis XVI.,
whom Nature framed for a farmhouse and Fate tossed into a revolution,
his lack of foresight and resolution took the heart out of his
advisers and turned statesmen into trimmers. Even before the news of
Austerlitz reached the ears of Talleyrand and Haugwitz at Vienna, the
bearer of Prussia's ultimatum was posing as the friend of France. On
all occasions he wore the cordon of the Legion of Honour; and while
the hosts of East and West were in the death-grapple on the
Pratzenberg, he strove to convince the French Foreign Minister that
the Prussians had entered Hanover only in order to keep the peace in
North Germany; that, as Russians had traversed Prussian territory, the
French would, of course, be equally free to do so; that Frederick
William objected to the descent of any English force in Hanover, which
belonged _de facto_ to France; and finally that the Treaty of Potsdam
was not a treaty at all, but merely a declaration with the "offer of
Prussia's good offices and of mediation, but without any mingling of
hostile intentions." Well might Talleyrand write to Napoleon: "I am
very satisfied with M. Haugwitz."[46]

Napoleon's victory over Prussian diplomacy was therefore won, even
before the lightning-stroke of Austerlitz blasted the Third Coalition.
Haugwitz began his conference with the victor at Schönbrunn on
December 13th, by offering Frederick William's congratulations on his
triumph at Austerlitz, to which the Emperor replied by a sarcastic
query whether, if the result of that battle had been different, he
would have spoken at all about the friendship of his master.[47] After
thus disconcerting the envoy and upbraiding him with the Treaty of
Potsdam, Napoleon unmasked his battery by offering Prussia the
Electorate of Hanover in return for the comparatively petty sacrifices
of Ansbach to Bavaria, and Cleves and Neufchâtel to France. For the
loss of these outlying districts Prussia could buy that long-coveted
land.[48] The envoy was dazzled by this glittering offer, and by
others that followed. The conqueror proposed an offensive and
defensive alliance, whereby France and Prussia mutually guaranteed
their lands along with prospective additions in Germany and Italy; and
the Court of Berlin was also to uphold the independence of Turkey.

Such were the terms that Napoleon peremptorily required Haugwitz to
sign within a few hours: and the bearer of Prussia's ultimatum on
December 15th signed this Treaty of Schönbrunn, which degraded the
would-be arbitress of Europe to her former position of well-fed
follower of France. This was the news which Haugwitz brought back to
his astonished King. His reception was of the coolest; for Frederick
William was an honest man, who sought peace, prosperity, and the
welfare of his people, and now saw himself confronted by the
alternative of war or national humiliation. In truth, every turn and
double of his course was now leading him deeper into the discredit and
ruin which will be described in the next chapter.

Leaving for the present that unhappy King amidst his increasing
perplexities, we return to the affairs of Austria. Mack's disaster
alone had cast that Government into the depths of despair, and we
learn from Lord Gower, our ambassador at St. Petersburg, that he had
seen copies of letters written by the Emperor Francis to Napoleon
"couched in terms of humility and submission unworthy of a great
monarch," to which the latter replied in a tone of superiority and
affected commiseration, and with a demand for the Hapsburg lands in
Venetia and Swabia.[49]

The same tone of whining dejection was kept up by Cobenzl and other
Austrian Ministers, even before Austerlitz, when Prussia was on the
point of drawing the sword; and they sent offers of peace, when it was
rather for their foe to sue for it. After that battle, and, still more
so, after signing the armistice of December 6th, they were at the
conqueror's mercy; and Napoleon knew it. After probing the inner
weakness of the Berlin Court, he now pressed with merciless severity
on the Hapsburgs. He proposed to tear away their Swabian and Tyrolese
lands and their share of the spoils of Venice. In vain did the
Austrian plenipotentiaries struggle against these harsh terms,
pleading for Tyrol and Dalmatia, and pointing out the impossibility of
raising 100,000,000 francs from territories ravaged by war. In vain
did they proffer a claim to Hanover for one of their Archdukes: though
Talleyrand urged the advantage of this step as dissolving the
Anglo-Austrian alliance, yet Napoleon refused to hear of it; for at
that time he was offering that Electorate to Haugwitz.[50] Still less
would he hear a word in favour of the Court of Naples, whose conduct
had aroused his resentment. The utmost that the Austrian envoys could
wring from him was the reduction of the war contribution to 40,000,000
francs.

The terms finally arranged in the Treaty of Pressburg (December 26th,
1805) may be thus summarized: Austria recognized the recent
acquisitions and changes of title made by Napoleon in Italy, and ceded
to him her parts of Venetia, Istria, and Dalmatia. She recognized the
title of King now bestowed by Napoleon on the Electors of Bavaria and
Würtemberg, a change which was not to invalidate their membership of
the "Germanic Confederation." To those potentates and to the Elector
(now Grand Duke) of Baden, the Hapsburgs ceded all their scattered
Swabian domains, while Bavaria also gained Tyrol and Vorarlberg. As a
slight compensation for these grievous losses, Austria gained
Salzburg, whose Elector was to receive from Bavaria the former
principality of Würzburg. The domains and revenues of the Teutonic and
Maltese Orders were secularized, so as to furnish appanages to some
other princes of the Hapsburg House; and another blow was dealt at the
Germanic system by the declaration that Napoleon guaranteed the full
and entire sovereignty of the rulers of Bavaria, Würtemberg, and
Baden. In fact, as will appear in the next chapter, Napoleon now
usurped the place in Germany previously held by the Hapsburgs, and
extended his influence as far east as the River Inn, and, on the
south, down to the remote city of Ragusa on the Adriatic.

But it is one thing to win a brilliant diplomatic triumph, and quite
another thing to secure a firm and lasting peace. The Peace of
Pressburg raised Napoleon to heights of power never dreamt of by Louis
XIV.: but his pre-eminence was at best precarious. When by moderate
terms he might have secured the alliance of Austria and severed her
friendship with England, he chose to place his heel on her neck and
drive her to secret but irreconcilable hatred.

And his choice was deliberate. Two months earlier, Talleyrand had sent
him a memorandum on the subject of a Franco-Austrian alliance, which
is instinct with statesmanlike foresight. He stated that there were
four Great Powers--France, Great Britain, Russia, and Austria: he
excluded Prussia, whose rise to greatness under Frederick the Great
was but temporary. Austria, he claimed, must remain a Great Power. She
had opposed revolutionary France; but with Imperial France she had no
lasting quarrel. Rather did her manifest destiny clash with that of
Russia on the lower Danube, where the approaching break-up of the
Ottoman Power must bring those States into conflict. It was good
policy, then, to give a decided but friendly turn of Hapsburg policy
towards the east. Let Napoleon frankly approach the Emperor Francis
and say in effect: "I never sought this war with you, but I have
conquered: I wish to restore complete harmony between us: and, in
order to remove all causes of dispute, you must give up your Swabian,
Tyrolese, and Venetian lands: of these Tyrol shall fall to a prince of
your choice, and Venice (along with Trieste and Istria) shall form an
aristocratic Republic under a magistrate nominated in the first
instance by me. As a set-off to these losses, you shall receive
Moldavia, Wallachia, and northern Bulgaria. If the Russians object to
this and attack you, I will be your ally." Such was Talleyrand's
proposal.[51]

It is easy to criticise it in many details; but there can be little
doubt that its adoption by Napoleon would have laid a firmer
foundation for French supremacy than was afforded by the Treaties of
Pressburg and Tilsit. Austria would not have been deeply wounded, as
she now was by the transfer of her faithful Tyrolese to the detested
rule of Bavaria, and by the undisguised triumph of Napoleon in Italy
and along the Adriatic. Moreover, the erection of Tyrol and Venetia
into separate States would have been a wise concession to those
clannish societies; and Austria could not have taken up the
championship of outraged Tyrolese sentiment, which she assumed four
years later. Instead of figuring as the leader of German nationality,
she would have been on the worst of terms with the Czar over the
Eastern Question; and their discord would have enabled France to
dictate her own terms as to the partition of the Sultan's dominions.
Talleyrand had no specific for dissolving the traditional friendship
of England and Austria, and we may imagine the joy with which he heard
from the Hapsburg envoys the demand for Hanover, at a time when
English gold was pouring into the empty coffers at Vienna. Here was
the sure means of embroiling England and Austria for a generation at
least. But this further chance of preventing future coalitions was
likewise rejected by Napoleon, who deliberately chose to make Austria
a deadly foe, and to aggrandize her rival Prussia.[52]

Why did Napoleon reject Talleyrand's plan? Unquestionably, I think,
because he had resolved to build up a Continental System, which should
"hermetically seal" the coasts of Europe against English commerce. If
he was to realize those golden visions of his youth, ships, colonies,
and an Eastern empire, which, even amidst the glories of Austerlitz,
he placed far above any European triumph, he must extend his coast
system and subject or conciliate the maritime States. Of these the
most important were Prussia and Russia. The seaborne commerce of
Austria was insignificant, and could easily be controlled from his
vassal lands of Venetia and Dalmatia. To the would-be conqueror of
England the friendship or hatred of Austria seemed unimportant: he
preferred to depress this now almost land-locked Power, and to draw
tight the bonds of union with Prussia, always provided that she
excluded British goods.[53]

The same reason led him to hope for a Russian alliance. Only by the
help of Russia and Prussia could he shut England out from the Baltic;
and, to win that help, he destined Hanover for Prussia and the
Danubian States for the Czar. For the founder of the Continental
System such a choice was natural; but, viewed from the standpoint of
Continental politics, his treatment of Austria was a serious blunder.
His frightful pressure on her motley lands endowed them with a
solidity which they had never known before; and in less than four
years, the conqueror had cause to regret having driven the Hapsburgs
to desperation. It may even be questioned whether Austerlitz itself
was not a misfortune to him. Just before that battle he thought of
treating Austria leniently, taking only Verona and Legnago, and
exchanging Venetia against Salzburg. This would have detached her from
the Coalition, and made a friend of a Power that is naturally inclined
to be conservative.

After Austerlitz, he rushed to the other extreme and forced the
Hapsburgs to a hostility in which the Marie Louise marriage was only a
forced and uneasy truce. His motives are not, in my judgment, to be
assigned to mere lust of domination, but rather to a reasoned though
exaggerated conviction of the need of Prussia and Russia to his
Continental System. Above all things, he now sought to humble England,
so that finally he might be free for his long-deferred Oriental
enterprise. This is the irony of his career, that, though he preferred
the career of Alexander the Great to that of Cæsar; though he placed
his victory at Austerlitz far below the triumph of the great
Macedonian at Issus which assured the conquest of the Orient, yet he
felt himself driven to the very measures which tethered him to _cette
vieille Europe_ and which finally roused the Continent against him.

Among his errors of judgment, assuredly his behaviour to Austria in
1805 was not the least. The recent history of Europe supplies a
suggestive contrast. Two generations after Austerlitz, the Hapsburg
Power was shattered by the disaster of Königgrätz, and once more lost
all influence in Germany and Italy. But the victor then showed
consideration for the vanquished. Bismarck had pondered over the
lessons of history, because, as he said, _history teaches one how far
one may safely go_. He therefore persuaded King William to forego
claims that would have embittered the rivalry of Prussia and Austria.
Nay! he recurred to Talleyrand's policy of encouraging the Hapsburgs
to seek in the Balkan Peninsula compensation for their losses in the
west: and within fifteen years the basis of the Triple Alliance was
firmly laid. Napoleon, on the other hand, for lack of that
statesmanlike moderation which consecrates victory and cements the
fabric of an enduring Empire, soon saw the political results of
Austerlitz swept away by the rising tide of the nations' wrath. In
less than nine years the Austrians and their allies were masters of
Paris.

    NOTE TO THE THIRD EDITION.--The account given on p. 41 of the
    drowning of numbers of Russians at the close of the Battle of
    Austerlitz was founded upon the testimony of Napoleon and many
    French generals; the facts, as related by Lejeune, seemed quite
    convincing; the Czar Alexander also asserted at Vienna in 1815
    that 20,000 Russians had been drowned there. But the local
    evidence (kindly furnished to me by Professor Fournier of Vienna)
    seems to prove that the story is a myth. Both lakes were drained
    only a few days after the battle, _at Napoleon's orders_; in the
    lower lake not a single corpse was found; in the upper lake 150
    corpses of horses, but only two, some say three, of men, were
    found. Probably Napoleon invented the catastrophe for the sake of
    dramatic effect, and others followed the lead given in his
    bulletin. The Czar may have adopted the story because it helped to
    excuse his defeat. (See my article in the "Eng. Hist. Rev." for
    July, 1902.)

CHAPTER XXIV

PRUSSIA AND THE NEW CHARLEMAGNE

An eminent German historian, who has striven to say some kind words
about Frederick William's Government before the collapse at Jena,
prefaces his apology by the axiom that from a Prussian monarch one
ought to expect, not French, English, or Russian policy, but only
Prussian policy. The claim may well be challenged. Doubtless, there
are some States concerning which it would be true. Countries such as
Great Britain and Spain, whose areas are clearly defined by nature,
may with advantage be self-contained until their peoples overflow into
new lands: before they become world Powers, they may gain in strength
by being narrowly national. But there are other States whose fortunes
are widely different. They represent some principle of life or energy,
in the midst of mere political wreckage. If the binding power, which
built up an older organism, should decline, as happened to the Holy
Roman Empire after the religious wars, fragments will fall away and
join bodies to which they are now more akin.

Of the States that throve among the crumbling masses of the old Empire
the chief was Brandenburg-Prussia. She had a twofold energy which the
older organism lacked: she was Protestant and she was national; she
championed the new creed cherished by the North Germans, and she felt,
though dimly as yet, the strength that came from an almost single kin.
Until she seized on part of the spoils of Poland, her Slavonic
subjects were for the most part germanized Slavs; and even after
acquiring Posen and Warsaw at the close of the eighteenth century, she
could still claim to be the chief Germanic State. A generation
earlier, Frederick the Great had seen this to be the source of her
strength. His policy was not merely Prussian: in effect, if not in
aim, it was German. His victory at Rossbach over a great polyglot
force of French and Imperialists first awakened German nationality to
a thrill of conscious life; and the last success of his career was the
championship of the lesser German princes against the encroachments of
the Hapsburgs. In fact, it seems now a mere commonplace to assert that
Prussia has prospered most when, as under Frederick the Great and
William the Great, her policy has been truly German, and that she has
fallen back most in the years 1795-1806 and 1848-1852, when the
subservience of her Frederick Williams to France and Austria has lost
them the respect and support of the rest of the Fatherland. A State
that would attract other fragments of the same nation must be
attractive, and it must be broadly national if it is to attract. If
Stein and Bismarck had been merely Prussians, if Cavour's policy had
been narrowly Sardinian, would their States ever have served as the
rallying centres for the Germany and Italy of to-day?

The difficulties which beset Frederick William III. in 1805 were not
entirely of his own making. His predecessor of the same ill-omened
name, when nearing the close of his inglorious reign, made the Peace
of Basel (1795), which began to place the policy of Berlin at the beck
and call of the French revolutionists. But the present ruler had
assured Prussia's subservience to France at the time of the
Secularizations, when he gained Erfurt, Eichsfeld, Hildesheim,
Paderborn, and a great part of the straggling bishopric of Münster.
Even at that time of shameless rapacity, there were those who saw that
the gain of half a million of subjects to Prussia was a poor return
for the loss of self-respect that befell all who shared in the
sacrilegious plunder bartered away by Bonaparte and Talleyrand.
Frederick William III. was even suspected of a leaning towards French
methods of Government; and a Prussian statesman said to the French
ambassador:

    "You have only the nobles against you: the King and the people are
    openly for France. The revolution which you have made from below
    upwards will be slowly effected in Prussia from above downwards:
    the King is a democrat after his fashion: he is always striving to
    curtail the privileges of the nobles, but by slow means. In a few
    years feudal rights will cease to exist in Prussia."[54]

Could the King have carried out these much-needed reforms, he might
perhaps have opposed a solid society to the renewed might of France.
But he failed to set his house in order before the storm burst; and in
1803 he so far gave up his championship of North German affairs as to
allow the French to occupy Hanover, a land that he and his Ministers
had long coveted.

We saw in the last chapter that Hanover was the bait whereby Napoleon
hooked the Prussian envoy, Haugwitz, at Schönbrunn; and that the very
man who had been sent to impose Prussia's will upon the French Emperor
returned to Berlin bringing peace and dishonour. The surprise and
annoyance of Frederick William may be imagined. On all sides
difficulties were thickening around him. Shortly before the return of
Haugwitz to Berlin, the Russian troops campaigning in Hanover had been
placed under the protection of Prussia; and the King himself had
offered to our Minister, Lord Harrowby, to protect Cathcart's
Anglo-Hanoverian corps which, _with the aid of Prussian troops_, was
restoring the authority of George III. in that Electorate.

Moreover, Frederick William could not complain of any shabby treatment
from our Government. Knowing that he was set on the acquisition of
Hanover and could only be drawn into the Coalition by an equally
attractive offer, the Pitt Ministry had proposed through Lord Harrowby
the cession to Prussia at the general peace of the lands south-west of
the Duchy of Cleves, "bounded by a frontier line drawn from Antwerp to
Luxemburg," and connected with the rest of her territories.[55] This
plan, which would have planted Prussia firmly at Antwerp, Liège,
Luxemburg, and Cologne, also aimed at installing the Elector of
Salzburg in the rest of the new Rhenish acquisitions of France; while
the equipoise of the Powers was to be adjusted by the cession of
Salzburg, the Papal Legations, and the line of the Mincio to Austria,
she in her turn giving up part of her Dalmatian lands to Russia.
Prussia was to be the protectress of North Germany and regard any
incursion of the French, "north of the Maine or at least of the Lahn,"
as an act of war. Great Britain, after subsidizing Prussia for 100,000
troops on the usual scale, pledged herself to restore all her
conquests made, or to be made, during the war, with the exception of
the Cape of Good Hope: but no questions were to be raised about that
desirable colony, or Malta, or the British maritime code.[56]

At the close of 1805, then, Frederick William was face to face with
the offers of England and those brought by Haugwitz from Napoleon.
That is, he had to choose between the half of Belgium and the
Rhineland as offered by England, or Hanover as a gift from Napoleon.
The former gain was the richer, but apparently the more risky, for it
entailed the hatred of France: the latter seemed to secure the
friendship of the conqueror, though at the expense of the claims of
honour and a naval war with England. His confidential advisers,
Lombard, Beyme, and Haugwitz, were determined to gain the Electorate,
preferably at Napoleon's hands; while his Foreign Minister,
Hardenberg, a Hanoverian by birth, desired to assure the union of his
native land with Prussia by more honourable means, and probably by
means of an exchange with George III., which will be noticed
presently. In his opposition to French influence, Hardenberg had the
support of the more patriotic Prussians, who sought to safeguard
Prussia's honour, and to avert war with England. The difficulty in
accepting the Electorate at the point of Napoleon's sword was not
merely on the score of morality: it was due to the presence of a large
force of English, Hanoverians, and Russians on the banks of the Weser,
and to the protection which the Prussian Government had offered to
those troops against any French attack, always provided that they did
not move against Holland and retired behind the Prussian
battalions.[57] The indignation of British officers at this last order
is expressed by Christian Ompteda, of the King's German Legion, in a
letter to his brother at Berlin: "My dear fellow, if this sort of
thing goes on, the Continent will soon be irrecoverably lost. The
Russian and English armies will not long creep for refuge under the
contemptible Prussian cloak. We are here, 40,000 of the best and
bravest troops. A swift move on Holland only would have opened the
road to certain success.... And this is Lombard's and Haugwitz's
work!"[58]

What meanwhile were George III.'s Ministers doing? At this crisis
English policy suffered a terrible blow. Death struck down the
"stately column" that held up the swaying fortunes of our race.
William Pitt, long failing in health, was sore-stricken by the news of
Austerlitz and the defection of Austria. But the popular version as to
the cause of his death--that _Austerlitz killed Pitt_--is more
melodramatic than correct. Among the many causes that broke that
unbending spirit, the news of the miserable result of the Hanoverian
Expedition was the last and severest. The files of our Foreign Office
papers yield touching proof of the hopes which the Cabinet cherished,
even after Vienna was in Napoleon's hands. Harrowby was urged to do
everything in his power--short of conceding Hanover--to bring Prussia
into the field, in which case "nearly 300,000 men will be available in
North Germany at the beginning of the next campaign, which will
include 70,000 British and Hanoverian troops employed there or in
maritime enterprises."[59] To this hope Pitt clung, even after hearing
the news of Austerlitz, and it was doubtless this which enabled him to
bear that last journey from Bath to Putney Heath, with less fatigue
and far more quickly than had been expected. He arrived home on
Saturday night, January 11th. On the following Wednesday his friend,
George Rose, called on him and found that a serious change for the
worse had set in.

    "On the Sunday he was better, and continued improving till Monday
    in the afternoon, when Lord Castlereagh insisted on seeing him,
    and, having obtained access to him, entered (Lord Hawkesbury being
    also present) on points of public business of the most serious
    importance (principally respecting the bringing home the British
    troops from the Continent), which affected him visibly that
    evening and the next day, and this morning the effect was more
    plainly observed: ... his countenance is extremely changed, his
    voice weak, and his body almost wasted."

It is clear also from the medical evidence which the diarist gives
that the news from Hanover was the cause of this sudden change. On the
previous Sunday, that is, just after the fatigue of the three days'
journey, the physicians "thought there was a reasonable prospect of
Mr. Pitt's recovery, that the probability was in favour of it, and
that, if his complaint should not take an unfavourable turn, he might
be able to attend to business in about a month."[60] That unfavourable
turn took place when the heroic spirit lost all hope under the
distressing news from Berlin and Hanover. Austerlitz, it is true, had
depressed him. Yet that, after all, did not concern British honour and
the dearest interests of his master.

But, that Frederick William, from whom he had hoped so much, to whom
he was on the point of advancing a great subsidy, should now fall
away, should talk of peace with Napoleon and claim Hanover, should
forbid an invasion of Holland and request the British forces to
evacuate North Germany--this was a blow to George III., to our
military prestige, and to the now tottering Ministry. How could he
face the Opposition, already wellnigh triumphant in the sad Melville
business, with a King's Speech in which this was the chief news?
Losing hope, he lost all hold on life: he sank rapidly: in the last
hours his thoughts wandered away to Berlin and Lord Harrowby. "What is
the wind?" he asked. "East; that will do; that will bring him fast,"
he murmured. And, on January 23rd, about half an hour before he
breathed his last, the servant heard him say: "My country: oh my
country."[61]

Thus sank to rest, amidst a horror of great darkness, the statesman
whose noon had been calm and glorious. Only a superficial reading of
his career can represent him as eager for war and a foe to popular
progress. His best friends knew full well his pride in the great
financial achievements of 1784-6, his resolute clinging to peace in
1792, and his longing for a pacification in 1796, 1797, and 1800,
provided it could be gained without detriment to our allies and to the
vital interests of Britain. His defence lies buried amidst the
documents of our Record Office, and has not yet fully seen the light.
For he was a reserved man, the warmth of whose nature blossomed forth
only to a few friends, or on such occasions as his inspired speech on
the emancipation of slaves. To outsiders he had more than the usual
fund of English coldness: he wrote no memoirs, he left few letters, he
had scant means of influencing public opinion; and he viewed with
lofty disdain the French clamour that it was he who made and kept up
the war. "I know it," he said; "the Jacobins cry louder than we can,
and make themselves heard."[62] He was, in fact, a typical champion of
our rather dumb and stolid race, that plods along to the end of the
appointed stage, scarcely heeding the cloud of stinging flies. Both
the people and its champion were ill fitted to cope with Napoleon.
None of our statesmen had the Latin tact and the histrionic gifts
needful to fathom his guile, to arouse the public opinion of Europe
against him, or to expose his double-dealing.

But Pitt was unfortunate above all of them. It was his fate to begin
his career in an age of mediocrities and to finish it in an almost
single combat with the giant. He was no match for Napoleon. The
Coalition, which the Czar and he did so much to form, was a house of
cards that fell at the conqueror's first touch; and the Prussian
alliance now proved to be a broken reed. His notions of strategy were
puerile. The French Emperor was not to be beaten by small forces
tapping at his outworks; and Austria might reasonably complain that
our neglect to attack the rear of the Grand Army in Flanders exposed
her to the full force of its onset on the Danube. But though his
genius pales before the fiery comet of Napoleon, it shines with a
clear and steady radiance when viewed beside that of the Continental
statesmen of his age. They flickered for a brief space and set. His
was the rare virtue of dauntless courage and unswerving constancy. By
the side of their wavering groups he stands forth like an Abdiel:

  "Unshaken, unseduced, unterrified,
  His loyalty he kept, his love, his zeal:
  Nor number nor example with him wrought
  To swerve from truth or change his constant mind,
  Though single."

While English statesmanship was essaying the task of forming a
Coalition Ministry under Fox and Grenville, Napoleon with untiring
activity was consolidating his position in Germany, Italy, and France.
In Germany he allied his family by marriage with the now royal Houses
of Bavaria and Würtemberg. He chased the Bourbons of Naples from their
Continental domains. In France he found means to mitigate a severe
financial crisis, and to strengthen his throne by a new order of
hereditary nobility. In a word, he became the new Charlemagne.

The exaltation of the South German dynasties had long been a favourite
project with Napoleon, who saw in the hatred of the House of Bavaria
for Austria a sure basis for spreading French influence into the heart
of Germany. Not long after the battle of Austerlitz, the Elector of
Bavaria, while out shooting, received from a French courier a letter
directed to "Sa Majesté _le Roi_ de Bavière et de Suabe."[63] This
letter was despatched six days after a formal request was sent through
Duroc, that the Elector would give his daughter Augusta in marriage to
Eugène Beauharnais. The affair had been mooted in October: it was
clinched by the victory of Austerlitz; and after Napoleon's arrival at
Munich on the last day of the year, the final details were arranged.
The bridegroom was informed of it in the following laconic style: "I
have arrived at Munich. I have arranged your marriage with the
Princess Augusta. It has been announced. This morning the princess
visited me, and I spoke with her for a long time. She is very pretty.
You will find herewith her portrait on a cup; but she is much better
looking." The wedding took place at Munich as soon as the bridegroom
could cross the Alps; and Napoleon delayed his departure for France in
order to witness the ceremony which linked him with an old reigning
family. At the same time he arranged a match between Jerome Bonaparte
and Princess Catherine of Würtemberg. This was less expeditious,
partly because, in the case of a Bonaparte, Napoleon judged it needful
to sound the measure of his obedience. But Jerome had been broken in:
he had thrown over Miss Paterson, and, after a delay of a year and a
half, obeyed his brother's behests, and strengthened the ties
connecting Swabia with France. A third alliance was cemented by the
marriage of the heir to the Grand Duchy of Baden with Stéphanie de
Beauharnais, niece of Josephine.

In the early part of 1806 Napoleon might flatter himself with his
brilliant success as a match-maker. Yet, after all, he was less
concerned with the affairs of Hymen than with those of Mars and
Mercury. He longed to be at Paris for the settlement of finances; and
he burned to hear of the expulsion of the Bourbons from Naples. For
this last he had already sent forth his imperious mandates from
Vienna; and, after a brief sojourn at the Swabian capitals, he set out
for Paris, where he arrived incognito at midnight of January 26th.
During his absence of one hundred and twenty-five days he had captured
or destroyed two armies, stricken a mighty coalition to the heart,
shattered the Hapsburg Power, and revolutionized the Germanic system
by establishing two Napoleonic kingdoms in its midst.

Yet, as if nothing had been done, and all his hopes and thoughts lay
in the future, he summoned his financial advisers to a council for
eight o'clock in the morning. Scarcely did he deign to notice their
congratulations on his triumphs. "We have," he said, "to deal with
more serious questions: it seems that the greatest dangers of the
State were not in Austria: let us hear the report of the Minister of
the Treasury." It then appeared that Barbé-Marbois had been concerned
in risky financial concerns with the Court of Spain, through a man
named Ouvrard. The Minister therefore was promptly dismissed, and
Mollien then and there received his post. The new Minister states in
his memoirs that the money, which had sufficed to carry the French
armies from the English Channel to the Rhine, had been raised on
extravagant terms, largely on loans on the national domains. In fact,
it had been an open question whether victory would come promptly
enough to avert a wholesale crash at Paris.

So bad were the finances that, though 40,000,000 francs were poured
every year into France as subsidies from Italy and Spain, yet loans of
120,000,000 francs had been incurred in order to meet current
expenses.[64] It would exceed the limits of our space to describe by
what forceful means Napoleon restored the financial equilibrium and
assuaged the commercial crisis resulting from the war with England.
Mollien soon had reason to know that, so far from avoiding Continental
wars, the Emperor thenceforth seemed almost to provoke them, and that
the motto--_War must support war_--fell far short of the truth.
Napoleon's wars, always excepting his war with England, supported the
burdens of an armed peace. In this respect his easy and gainful
triumph over Austria was a disaster for France and Europe. It beckoned
him on to Jena and Tilsit.

While reducing his finances to order and newspaper editors to
servility, the conqueror received news of the triumph of his arms in
Southern Italy. There the Bourbons of Naples had mortally offended
him. After concluding a convention for the peaceable withdrawal of St.
Cyr's corps and the strict observance of neutrality by the kingdom of
Naples, Ferdinand IV. and his Queen Caroline welcomed the arrival at
their capital of an Anglo-Russian force of 20,000 men, and intrusted
the command of these and of the Neapolitan troops to General Lacy.[65]
This force, it is true, did little except weaken the northward march
of Masséna; but the violation of neutrality by the Bourbons galled
Napoleon. At Vienna he refused to listen to the timid pleading of the
Hapsburgs on their behalf, and as soon as peace was signed at
Pressburg he put forth a bulletin stating that St. Cyr was marching on
Naples to hurl from the throne that guilty woman who had so flagrantly
violated all that is sacred among men. France would fight for thirty
years rather than pardon her atrocious act of perfidy: the Queen of
Naples had ceased to reign: let her go to London and form a committee
of sympathetic ink with Drake, Spencer-Smith, Taylor, and Wickham.

This diatribe was not the first occasion on which the conqueror had
proved that he was no gentleman. In his brutal letter of January 2nd,
1805, to Queen Caroline, he told her that, if she was the cause of
another war, she and her children would beg their bread all through
Europe. That and similar outbursts afford some excuse for the conduct
of the Bourbons in the autumn of 1805. They infringed the neutrality
which their ambassador had engaged to observe: but it is to be
remembered that Napoleon's invasion of the Neapolitan States in 1803
was a gross violation of international law, which the French Foreign
Office sought to cloak by fabricating two secret articles of the
Treaty of Amiens.[66] And though troth should doubtless be kept, even
with a law-breaker, yet its violation becomes venial when the latter
adopts the tone of a bully. For the present he triumphed. Joseph
Bonaparte invaded Naples in force, and on January 13th the King,
Queen, and Court set sail for Palermo. The Anglo-Russian divisions
re-embarked and sailed away for Malta and Corfu. One of the Neapolitan
strongholds, Gaëta, held out till the middle of July. Elsewhere the
Bourbon troops gave little trouble.

The conquest of Naples enabled Napoleon to extend his experiment of a
federation of Bonapartist Kings. He announced to Miot de Melito, now
appointed one of Joseph's administrators, his intentions in an
interview at the Tuileries on January 28th. Joseph was to be King of
Naples, if he accepted the honour quickly. If not, the Emperor would
adopt a son, as in the case of Eugène, and make him King.--"I don't
need a wife to have an heir. It is by my pen that I get
children."--But Joseph must also show himself worthy of the honour.
Let him despise fatigue, get wounded, break a leg.

    "Look at me. The recent campaign, agitation, and movement have
    made me fat. I believe that if all the kings coalesced against me,
    I should get a quite ridiculous stomach.... You have heard my
    words. I can no longer have relatives in obscurity. Those who will
    not rise with me, shall no longer be of my family. I am making a
    family of kings attached to my federative system."[67]

The threat having had its effect, Joseph was proclaimed King of Naples
by a decree of Napoleon. "Keep a firm hand: I only ask one thing of
you: be entirely the master there."[68] Such was the advice given to
his amiable brother, who after enjoying a military promenade
southwards was charged to undertake the conquest of Sicily. It
mattered little that the overthrow of the Neapolitan Bourbons offended
the Czar, who had undertaken the protection of that House.

As though intent on browbeating Alexander by an exhibition of his
power, Napoleon lavished Italian titles on his Marshals and statesmen.
Talleyrand became Prince of Benevento; and Bernadotte, Prince of
Ponte-Corvo (two Papal enclaves in Neapolitan soil). To these and
other titles were attached large domains (not divisible at death),
which enabled his paladins and their successors to support their new
dignities with pomp and splendour; especially was this so with the two
titles which his bargains with Prussia and Bavaria enabled him to
bestow. Thanks to the complaisance of their Kings, the Grand Duchy of
Berg and Cleves was granted to Murat, while the energetic and trusty
Berthier was rewarded with the Principality of Neufchâtel and a truly
princely fortune.[69]

Thus was founded the Napoleonic nobility; and thus was fulfilled Mme.
de Staël's prophecy that the priests and nobles would be the
_caryatides_ of the future throne. The change was brought about
skilfully. It took place when pride in Napoleon's exploits was at its
height, and when the "Gazette de France" asserted:

    "France is henceforth the arbitress of Europe.... Civilization
    would have perished in Europe, if forth from the ruins there had
    not arisen one of these men before whom the world keeps silence,
    and to whom Providence seems to intrust its destinies."[70]

This adulation, which recalls that of the Court of Augustus or
Tiberius, gives the measure of French thought. In truth, Napoleon
showed profound insight into human nature when he judged the hatred of
an order of nobility to be a mere passing spasm of revolutionary
fever; and he evinced equal good sense in restoring that order through
the chiefs of the one truly popular institution in France, the army.
Besides, the new titles were not taken from French domains, which
would have revived the idea of feudal dependence in France: they were
the fruit of Napoleon's great victory; and the sound of distant names
like Benevento, Berg, and Dalmatia skilfully flattered the pride of
_la grande nation_.

It is now time to return to the affairs of Prussia and to point out
the chief stages in her downward course. On January 3rd, 1806, an
important State Council was held at Berlin in order to decide on
certain modifications to the Schönbrunn Treaty with Napoleon. The
chief change resolved on was as follows: Instead of the cessions of
territory being immediate and absolute, as proposed by Napoleon, they
were not to take effect before the general peace. Until that took
place, Frederick William resolved to occupy Hanover provisionally,
meanwhile answering to France for the tranquillity of the north of
Germany.[71] The Prussian Government therefore gave strong hints that
the presence of a British force there was objectionable, and the
troops were withdrawn.[72]

Napoleon was to be less pliable. And yet Haugwitz assured the Prussian
King and council that he had looked Napoleon through and through, and
had discerned an unexpressed wish to deal easily with Prussia. As to
his acceptance of these changes in the Schönbrunn Treaty, Haugwitz
felt no doubt whatever, at least so his foe, Hardenberg, states. But
the Prussian Ministers were now proposing, not the offensive and
defensive treaty of alliance that Napoleon required, but rather a
mediation for peace between France and England. They were, in fact,
striving to steer halfway between Napoleon and George III.--and gain
Hanover. Verily, here was a belief in half measures passing that of
women.

The envoy despatched to assure Napoleon's assent to these new
conditions was the very man who had quailed before the Emperor at
Schönbrunn. Count Haugwitz set out on January 14th for Munich and
thence for Paris; but long before any definite news was received from
him, the Court of Berlin decided, on the strength of a few oily
compliments from the French ambassador, Laforest, to regard the
acceptance of Napoleon as fully assured. Accordingly, on January 24th,
the Government resolved to place the Prussian army on a peace-footing
and recall the troops from Franconia, as a daily saving of 100,000
thalers might thereby be effected. Never was there a greater act of
extravagance. As soon as the retreat and demobilizing of the Prussian
forces was announced, the French troops in Bavaria and Franconia began
to press forward, while others poured across the Rhine. Affecting to
ignore these threatening moves, the Prussian Court strove peaceably to
acquire Hanover by secretly offering George III. a re-arrangement of
territories, whereby the Hanoverian lands east of the Weser, along
with a few districts west of Hameln and Nienburg, should pass to
Prussia. Frederick William proposed to keep Minden and Ravensburg, but
to cede East Frisia and all the rest of his Westphalian possessions to
King George, who would retain the electoral dignity for these new
lands.[73] The only reply that our ruler deigned to this offer was
that he trusted:

    "His Prussian Majesty will follow the honourable dictates of his
    own heart, and will demonstrate to the world that he will not set
    the dreadful example of indemnifying himself at the expense of a
    third party, whose sentiments and conduct towards him and his
    subjects have been uniformly friendly and pacifick."[74]

But by the close of February this appeal fell on deaf ears. Frederick
William had decided to comply with Napoleon's terms and was about to
take formal possession of Hanover.

The conqueror was far from taking that easy view of the changes made
in the Schönbrunn Treaty which the discerning Haugwitz had trustfully
expected. At first, every effort was made by Talleyrand to delay his
interview with the Emperor, evidently in the hope that the subtle
flattery of Laforest at Berlin would lead to the demobilization of the
Prussian forces. This fatal step was known at Paris before February
6th, when Haugwitz was received by the Emperor; and the knowledge that
Prussia was at his mercy decided the conqueror's tone. He began by
some wheedling words as to the ability shown by Haugwitz in the
Schönbrunn negotiation:

    "If anyone but myself had treated with you I should have thought
    him bought over by you; but, let me confess to you, the treaty was
    due to your talents and merit. You were in my eyes the first
    statesman in Europe, and covered yourself with immortal glory."

Before that interview, forsooth, he had decided to make war on
Prussia; and only Haugwitz had induced him to offer her peace and the
gift of Hanover. Why, then, had that treaty been so criticised at
Berlin? Why had the French ambassador been slighted? Why was
Hardenberg high in favour? Why had not the King dismissed that tool of
England? Here the envoy strove to stem the rising torrent of the
Emperor's wrath; his words were at once swept aside; and the deluge
flowed on. As Prussia had not ratified the treaty pure and simple, she
was in a state of war with France; for she still had Russian and
English troops on her soil. Here again Haugwitz observed that those
forces were withdrawing, and that the Prussians were entering Hanover
in force. The storm burst forth anew. What right had Prussia thus to
carry into effect a treaty which she had not ratified? If her forces
entered Hanover, his troops should forthwith occupy Ansbach, Cleves,
and Neufchâtel: if Frederick William meant to have Hanover, he should
pay dearly for it. But he would allow Haugwitz to see Talleyrand, so
as to prevent an immediate war.[75]

The calm of the Foreign Minister was as dangerous as the bluster of
the Emperor. Talleyrand was no friend to Prussia. He had long known
Napoleon's determination to press on a war between England and
Prussia, and he lent himself to the plan of undermining the
Hohenzollerns. The scales now fell from the envoy's eyes. He saw that
his country stood friendless before an exacting creditor, who now
claimed further sacrifices--or Prussia's life-blood. The Emperor's
threats were partly fictitious; and when Haugwitz was thoroughly
frightened and ready to concede almost anything, Napoleon came to the
real point at issue, and demanded that the whole of the German
coast-line on the North Sea should be closed to English commerce. With
this stringent clause superadded, Hanover was now handed over to
Prussia. Never was a Greek gift more skilfully offered. The present of
Hanover on those terms implied for the recipient Russia's disapproval
and the hostility of England.[76]

This was the news brought by Haugwitz to Berlin. Frederick William was
now on the horns of the very dilemma which he had sought to avoid.
Either he must accept Napoleon's terms, or defy the conqueror to
almost single combat. The irony of his position was now painfully
apparent. In his longing for peace and retrenchment he had dismissed
his would-be allies, and had sent his own soldiers grumbling to their
homes. Moreover, he was tied by his previous action. If he accepted
peace from Napoleon at Christmas, when 300,000 men could have disputed
the victor's laurels, how much more must he accept it now! He not only
gave way on this point: he even complied with Napoleon's wishes by
keeping Hardenberg at a distance. He did not dismiss him--the
friendship of the spirited Queen Louisa forbade that: but Hardenberg
yielded up to Haugwitz the guidance of foreign affairs, and was
granted unlimited leave of absence.

Popular feeling was deeply moved by this craven compliance with French
behests. The officers of the Berlin garrison serenaded the patriotic
statesman, while Haugwitz twice had his windows smashed. Public
opinion, it is true, counted for little in Prussia. The rigorous
separation of classes, the absence of popular education, the complete
subjection of the journals to Government, and the mutual jealousy of
soldiers and civilians, prevented any general expression of opinion in
that almost feudal society.

But when the people of Ansbach piteously begged not to be handed over
to Bavaria, and forthwith saw their land occupied by the French before
Prussia had ratified the cession of that principality; when the North
Germans found that the gain of Hanover by Prussia was at the price of
war with England and the ruin of their commerce; when it was seen that
Frederick William and Haugwitz had clipped the wings of the Prussian
eagle till it shunned a fight with the Gallic cock, a feeling of shame
and indignation arose which proved that the limits of endurance had
been reached. Observers saw that, after all, the old German feeling
was not dead; it was only torpid; and forces were beginning to work
which threatened ruin to the Hohenzollerns if they again tarnished the