Napoleon soon decided that it would be fatal rashness to engage in another campaign in Poland while several fortified towns, and above all, Dantzic, held out in his rear. He determined to capture all these places and to summon new forces from France before again meeting in the field such enemies as the Russians had proved themselves to be.

Dantzic was at length compelled to surrender on May 7th 1807, Marshal Lefebvre receiving the title of Duke of Dantzic in commemoration of his important success, after which event Napoleon's extraordinary exertions in hurrying supplies from France, Switzerland and the Rhine country, and the addition of the division of 25,000 men which had captured Dantzic, enabled him to take the field again by the first of June at the head of not less than 280,000 men. The Russian general had also done all in his power to recruit his army which was now reinforced by 90,000 men, during this interval.

The Russians were in the field by the 5th of June and were the first assailants; but nothing but skirmishes resulted until the Russian army was forced to retire towards Heilsberg where they halted, and there concentrating their forces, made a most desperate stand. They were, however, overpowered by superior numbers, after maintaining their position during a whole day. The battle had continued until midnight upon terms of equality, and when the morning dawned the space between the Russians and French was literally sheeted over with the bodies of the dead and wounded.

The Russians retired after the battle, crossing the river Aller, and on the 13th of June reached Friedland, a town of some importance on the west side of the stream, communicating with the eastern, or right bank of the river by a long wooden bridge. It was the intention of Napoleon to induce the Russian general to pass by this narrow bridge by the left bank, and then to decoy him into a general action, in a position where the general difficulty of defiling through the town, and over the bridge, must render retreat almost impossible. For this purpose he showed only such portion of his forces as induced General Bennigsen to believe that the French troops on the western side of the Aller consisted only of Oudinot's division, which had been severely handled in the battle of Heilsberg, and which he now hoped to altogether destroy. Under this deception Bennigsen ordered a Russian division to pass the bridge, defile through the town and march to the assault. The French took great care to offer no such resistance as would show their real strength, and Bennigsen supposing he had only a single division of the French army before him, and forgetting the usual promptitude of combination for which Napoleon was distinguished, had pushed on and brought an action which he believed he could terminate quickly and triumphantly. He was soon led to reinforce this first division with another. This was followed by other still divisions, and as the engagement was now becoming heated the Russian general at length transported all his army, one division excepted, to the left bank of the Aller, by means of the wooden bridge and three pontoons, and arrayed them in front of the town of Friedland, to overpower, as he supposed, the crippled division of the French to which alone he believed himself exposed. But no sooner had he taken this irretrievable step than the mask was dropped.

Napoleon was at first unable to believe that Bennigsen would venture to leave any part of his army for any period in so perilous a position as that in which he had placed it, maintaining a doubtful combat with no means of retreat but through the entanglement of the town of Friedland, and across the long narrow bridge of the Aller. His astonishment was great, therefore, when he learned from the officers he sent to reconnoitre that the whole Russian army was crossing the bridge, with the exception of one small division, and forming in front of the town. He had secured a victory by his numbers and position, but his remark to Savary, who carried him the information of the Russian movement, was characteristic, "Well," said he, "I am ready now, I have an hour's advantage of them, and will give them the battle, since they wish for it."

The French skirmishers advanced in force, heavy columns of infantry began to show themselves, batteries of cannon were placed in position, and Bennigsen found himself in the presence of the whole French army. His position, a sort of plain surrounded by woods and broken ground, was difficult to defend; with the town and a large river in the rear it was dangerous to attempt a retreat, and an advance was prevented by the inequality of his force. Bennigsen found it expedient to detach 6,000 men to defend the bridge at Allerberg, some six miles from Friedland on the Aller, and with the rest of his forces he resolved to maintain his present position until night, hoping for Prussian reinforcements from General L'Estocq, via the town of Wehlau.

At about 10 o'clock on the morning of the 14th the French advanced to the attack. "This is the 14th of June; it will be a fortunate day for us," said Napoleon, recurring to the most glorious day of his life; "it is the anniversary of the battle of Marengo." The broken and wooded country which the French occupied enabled them to maintain and renew their efforts at pleasure, while the Russians in their exposed position could not make the slightest movement without being observed. At about noon the French seemed to be sickening of the contest and about to retire. This, however, was only a feint to give repose to such of the forces as had been engaged, and to bring up reinforcements. The cannonading continued until after 4 o'clock, the Russian line having sustained charge after charge and had neither recoiled or broken before infantry or cavalry. Napoleon, from his point of observation near the battlefield, had witnessed the failure of every strategem and the charge of every division, and at last finding the day waning, drew up his full force in person for the purpose of making one of those desperate and generally irrisistible efforts to which he often resorted to force a decision of a doubtful day.

There was not a marshal in his Empire under whom the troops would not behave gallantly, but when the Emperor put himself at the head of his army and led them to the charge, nothing could resist the shock. The brave Oudinot, hastening up with coat perforated by balls, and his horse covered with blood, exclaimed to the Emperor: "Make haste, sire, give me a reinforcement, and I will drive all the Russians into the water!" The day was far advanced, and some of Napoleon's lieutenants were of the opinion that they ought to defer the final and decisive movement till the morrow. "No! No!" replied Napoleon. "One does not catch an enemy twice in such a scrape." He then made his disposition of the several corps for the final attack.

Surrounded by his lieutenants, he explained to them, with energy and precision, the part which each of them had to act. Grasping the arm of Marshal Ney, and pointing to Friedland, the bridges, the Russians crowded together in front, he said: "Yonder is the goal, march to it without looking about you; break into that thick mass whatever it costs you; enter Friedland, take the bridges, and give yourself no concern about what may happen on your right, on your left or on your rear. The army and I shall be there to attend to that."

Ney at once set out at a gallop to accomplish the formidable task. Struck with his martial attitude Napoleon, addressing Marshal Mortier, said with much satisfaction: "That man is a lion!"

The order for attack all along the line with cavalry, infantry and artillery was now given, and simultaneously the Russians began to yield, the French advancing at the same time with shouts of assured victory. The Russians were now obliged to retreat in front of the enemy, and in half an hour the rout was complete. In vain did the enemy make all their reserves advance; Friedland was at last carried, but in the midst of a horrible carnage. The enemy left 20,000 men on the field, of whom 15,000 were killed and 5,000 wounded, and among the number thirty generals.

Dupont, who had been sent to assist Ney, met him in the heart of Friedland, then in flames, and they congratulated one another on the glorious success: Ney had continued to march straight forward, and Napoleon, placed in the centre of the divisions which he kept in reserve, had never ceased to watch his progress. It was now half past ten at night. Napoleon in his vast career had not gained a more splendid victory. He had for trophies eighty pieces of cannon, few prisoners, it is true, for the Russians chose rather to drown themselves than surrender. Twenty-five thousand Russians were killed as against 8,000 French. Out of 80,000 French 25,000 had not fired a shot. Meanwhile the bridge and pontoons were set on fire to prevent the French who had forced their way into the town, from taking possession of them. The smoke rolling over the scene increased the horror of the surroundings.

The Russian centre and right, which remained on the west side of the Aller, effected a retreat by a circuitous route, leaving on the right the town of Friedland with its burning bridges no longer practicable for friend or foe, and passed the Aller by a ford found in the very moment of extremity further down the river. Napoleon sent no cavalry in pursuit, though he had forty squadrons who might have cut them to pieces. Many animadversions have been cast upon him for not improving his victory in this manner; but the reason appeared clear: his object was to make peace with the Emperor Alexander, and the butchery of the broken battalions of the Russian guard would in no way have forwarded that object, and no power remained to oppose itself to the immense force under France's victorious warrior.

Thus ended the great battle of Friedland. "My children," wrote Napoleon to Josephine, "have worthily celebrated the battle of Marengo. The battle of Friedland will be equally celebrated and glorious for my people.... It is a worthy sister of Marengo, Austerlitz and Jena."

Napoleon visited the battlefield the next morning and beheld a frightful spectacle. The order of the Russian squares could be traced by a line of heaps of slain; and the position of their artillery might be guessed by the dead horses. As Savary well says: "It might be truly said that sovereigns ought to have great interests of their subjects at stake to justify such dreadful sacrifices."

The Emperor Alexander, overawed by the genius of Napoleon which had triumphed over troops more resolute than had ever before opposed him, and alarmed for the consequences of some decisive measure towards the reorganization of the Poles as a nation, began to think seriously of peace. On the 21st of June General Bennigsen asked for an armistice and to this the victor of Friedland gave an immediate assent on his arrival at Tilsit. On the 22nd of June a proclamation was addressed by Napoleon to his army in which he said; "From the banks of the Vistula, we have arrived upon those of the Niemen with the rapidity of the eagle's flight. You celebrated at Austerlitz, the anniversary of the coronation, and you have this year celebrated, in an appropriate manner, the battle of Marengo, which put a period to the second coalition. Frenchmen, you have proved worthy of yourselves and me. You will return to France covered with laurels after having obtained a glorious peace, which carries with it the guarantee for its duration."

It was known that the Emperor Alexander was on the other side of the Niemen, at a village not far distant, and Napoleon addressed his reply to the sovereign in person. Its purport was to the effect that he was quite ready to make peace but would not consent to an armistice, if war were to continue. The result was a proposal on the part of Alexander that an interview should take place between the Emperor of France and himself, which was accepted. The armistice was ratified on the 23rd of June and on the 25th the Emperors of France and Russia met personally, each accompanied by a few attendants, on a raft moored midstream in the river Niemen, near Tilsit, the town which gave its name to the secret treaty agreed upon at this time. The sovereigns embraced as they met, with their armies on the two banks of the river and retiring under a canopy, amid the cheers of the troops, had a long conversation, to which no one was a witness.

At its termination the appearance of mutual good will and confidence was marked, and the two Emperors established their courts there and lived together, in the midst of the lately hostile armies, more like old friends than enemies and rivals, attempting by diplomatic means the arrangement of differences which had for years been deluging Europe with blood. By this treaty the King of Prussia was admitted as a party, Napoleon restoring to Frederick William ancient Prussia and the French conquests in Upper Saxony,—the king agreeing to adopt the "Continental System."

The beautiful and fascinating Queen of Prussia also arrived at Tilsit, but too late to obtain more favorable terms for her country than had already been granted her husband. "Forgive us," she said, as Napoleon received her, "forgive us this fatal war; the memory of the great Frederick deceived us; we thought ourselves his equal because we are his descendants; alas! we have not proved such!"

The Queen used every strategem which wit and genius could devise, and every fascination to which beauty could lend a charm, but without avail. Foiled in her ambition she died soon after, it is said, of chagrin.

No single episode in the career of Napoleon Bonaparte has been more adversely commented on than his alleged breach of faith with the Queen of Prussia, when the domain of her husband was absolutely at his feet. He always denied that he had broken his word, and according to his own story, as told after his final retirement, the Queen had no cause of complaint.

"The Queen of Prussia was still a beautiful woman," he said, "but she had lost many of the charms of youth. She evidently expected to use her powers of persuasion on me for the benefit of Prussia. At dinner I took a beautiful rose from the table and presented it to her. She took it, smiled sweetly, and exclaimed: 'At least with Magdeburg, I hope.' I answered: 'Your majesty will observe that I am doing the giving and you are receiving what I give.'

"I hastened the preparations for the completion of the treaty, and it was signed. When the Queen learned that Magdeburg had not been given to Prussia she was very angry. She went to the Czar Alexander, and said, with tears in her eyes: 'That man has broken his word with me.' 'Oh, no!' the Czar answered. 'I can hardly think that. I believe I have been present on every occasion when you have met Napoleon, and I have listened more carefully than you have thought. But, if you can prove to me that he made any promise that he has not kept, I pledge you my word as a man I will see that he keeps it.'

"'Oh, but he gave me to understand—'

"'That is precisely the point,' responded the Czar. 'He has promised nothing.' The Queen turned quickly and left the apartment. She was too proud to acknowledge that in her effort to outwit me she had been outwitted."

At a subsequent meeting with Napoleon the Queen said, "Is it possible, that, after having the honor of being so near the hero of the century and of history, he will not leave me the power and satisfaction of being enabled to assure him he has attached me to him for life?"

"Madam" replied the Emperor, in a serious tone, "I am to be pitied; it is the result of my unhappy stars." He then took leave of the Queen, who, on reaching her carriage, threw herself on the seat in tears.

Alexander was charmed by the presence of Napoleon. They spent some days at Tilsit together, and never did he leave the French Emperor without expressing his unbounded admiration of him. "What a great man," he said incessantly to those who approached him; "What a genius! What extensive views! What a captain! What a statesman! Had I but known him sooner how many faults he might have spared me! What great things we might have accomplished together!"

In July Napoleon hastened back to Paris, arriving there on the 27th. He was received by the Senate and other public bodies as well as by the people with demonstrations similar to those which had been shown him on his return from the victory at Austerlitz. FÊtes and celebrations in honor of his achievements dazzled the world. He had now wrung from the last of his reluctant enemies, except England, the recognition of his imperial power, which already embraced a wider territory and a far greater number of subjects than Charlemagne ruled over, as Emperor of the West, a thousand years before. The power of Napoleon, the prosperity of France, and the splendor of Paris may be said to have been at their greatest height at this period. The regulation of the whole Empire lay in the hand of Napoleon himself, and as the glory of France had always been, and continued to be his grand object, every faculty of his intellect was bent to its promotion.

"I am inclined to think that I was happiest at Tilsit," said Napoleon one day to Gourgaud at St. Helena on being asked at what time he was happiest. "I had experienced vicissitudes, cares, and reverses," he continued, "Eylau had reminded me that fortune might abandon me, and I found myself victorious, dictating peace, with emperors and kings to form my court. After all that is not a real enjoyment. Perhaps I was really more happy after my Italian victories hearing the people raise their voices, only to bless their liberator, and all that at twenty-five years of age! From that time I saw what I might become, I already saw the world flying beneath me, as if I had been carried through the air."

Napier, the eminent historian, and himself an actor in many of the scenes he describes, says: "Up to the peace of Tilsit, the wars of France were essentially defensive; for the bloody contest that wasted the Continent so many years was not a struggle for pre-eminence between ambitious powers—not a dispute for some acquisition of territory—nor for the political ascendancy of one or another nation—but a deadly conflict to determine whether aristocracy or democracy should predominate—whether aristocracy or privilege should henceforth be the principle of European governments."

On the 15th of August the Emperor repaired in great pomp to Notre Dame, where the Te Deum was sung and thanksgiving offered up for the peace of Tilsit—a peace that gave much glory to France, but which as has generally been conceded, was "poor politics"; but, as Thiers has well said: "In war Napoleon was guided by his genius, in politics by his passions."