Napoleon was politically justified in the harsh terms which he was desirous to impose on Prussia, by having now brought his victorious armies to the neighbourhood of Poland in which he had a good right to conceive himself sure to find numerous followers and a friendly reception.

The partition of this fine kingdom by its powerful neighbours, Russia, Austria, and Prussia, was the first open and audacious transgression of the law of nations, which disgraced the annals of civilized Europe. It was executed by a combination of three of the most powerful states of Europe against one too unhappy in the nature of its constitution, and too much divided by factions to offer any effectual resistance. The kingdom subjected to this aggression had appealed in vain to the code of nations for protection against an outrage, to which, after a desultory and uncombined, and therefore a vain defence, she saw herself under the necessity of submitting. The Poles retained, too, a secret sense of their fruitless attempt to recover freedom in 1791, and an animated recollection of the violence by which it had been suppressed by the Russian arms. They waited with hope and exultation the approach of the French armies; and candour must allow, that, unlawfully subjected as they had been to a foreign yoke, they had a right to avail themselves of the assistance, not only of Napoleon, but of Mahomet, or of Satan himself, had he proposed to aid them in regaining the independence of which they had been oppressively and unjustly deprived.[258]

This feeling was general among the middling classes of the Polish aristocracy, who recollected with mortified pride the diminution of their independent privileges, the abrogation of their Diets, and the suppression of the Liberum Veto, by which a private gentleman might render null the decision of a whole assembly, unless unanimity should be attained, by putting the dissentient to death upon the spot.[259] But the higher order of nobility, gratified by the rank they held, and the pleasures they enjoyed at the courts of Berlin, Vienna, and especially at Petersburgh, preferred in general the peaceful enjoyment of their immense estates to the privileges of a stormy independence, which raised the most insignificant of the numerous aristocracy to a rank and importance nearly resembling their own. They might, too, with some justice, distrust the views of Napoleon, though recommended by the most specious promises. The dominion of Russia, in particular, from similarity of manners, and the particular attention paid to their persons and interests, was not so unpopular among the higher branches of the aristocracy as might have been expected, from the unjust and arbitrary mode in which she had combined to appropriate so large a part of their once independent kingdom. These did not, therefore, so generally embrace the side of France as the minor nobles or gentry had done. As for the ordinary mass of the population, being almost all in the estate of serfage, or villanage, which had been general over Europe during the prevalence of the feudal system, they followed their respective lords, without pretending to entertain any opinion of their own.

While Russia was marching her armies hastily forward, not only to support, or rather raise up once more, her unfortunate ally the King of Prussia, but to suppress any ebullition of popular spirit in Poland, Buonaparte received addresses from that country, which endeavoured to prevail on him to aid them in their views of regaining their independence. Their application was of a nature to embarrass him considerably. To have declared himself the patron of Polish independence, might have, indeed, brought large forces to his standard—might have consummated the disasters of Prussia, and greatly embarrassed even Russia herself; and so far policy recommended to Napoleon to encourage their hopes of her restored independence. But Austria had been a large sharer in the various partitions of Poland, and Austria, humbled as she had been, was still a powerful state, whose enmity might have proved formidable, if, by bereaving her of her Polish dominions, or encouraging her subjects to rebel, Buonaparte had provoked her to hostilities, at the time when he himself and the best part of his forces were engaged in the North of Europe. The same attempt would have given a very different character to the war, which Russia at present waged only in the capacity of the auxiliary of Prussia. The safety and integrity of the Russian empire, south of the Volga, depends almost entirely upon the preservation of those territories which she has acquired in Poland; and, if she had engaged in the war as a principal, Buonaparte was scarcely yet prepared to enter upon a contest with the immense power of that empire, which must be waged upon the very frontier of the enemy, and as near to their resources as he was distant from his own. It might have been difficult, also, to have stated any consistent grounds, why he, who had carved out so many new sovereignties in Europe with the point of the sword, should reprobate the principle of the partition of Poland. Influenced by these motives, the modern setter-up and puller-down of kings abstained from re-establishing the only monarchy in Europe, which he might have new-modelled to his mind, in the character not of a conqueror, but a liberator.

While Napoleon declined making any precise declaration, or binding himself by any express stipulations to the Polish delegates, the language he used to them was cautiously worded, so as to keep up their zeal and animate their exertions. Dombrowski,[260] a Polish exile in the French army, was employed to raise men for Napoleon's service, and the enthusiasm of those who entered, as well as the expectations of the kingdom at large, were excited by such oracular passages as the following, which appeared in the thirty-sixth bulletin:—"Is the throne of Poland to be re-established, and will that great nation regain her existence and independence? Will she be recalled to life, as if summoned to arise from the tomb?—God only, the great disposer of events, can be the arbiter of this great political problem."[261]

The continuance of war was now to be determined upon; a war to be waged with circumstances of more than usual horror, as it involved the sufferings of a winter campaign in the northern latitudes. The French, having completely conquered the Prussian estates to the east of the Oder, had formed the sieges of Great Glogau, of Breslau, and of Graudentz, and were at the same time pushing westward to occupy Poland. The Russian general, Bennigsen, had on his side pressed forward for the purpose of assisting the Prussians, and had occupied Warsaw. But finding that their unfortunate allies had scarcely the remnant of an army in the field, the Russian general retreated after some skirmishes, and recrossed the Vistula, while the capital of Poland, thus evacuated, was entered on the 28th November by Murat, at the head of the French vanguard.

About the 25th, Napoleon, leaving Berlin, had established himself at Posen, a central town of Poland, which country began to manifest an agitation, partly the consequence of French intrigues, partly arising from the animating prospect of restored independence. The Poles resumed in many instances their ancient national dress and manners, and sent deputies to urge the decision of Buonaparte in their favour. The language in which they entreated his interposition, resembled that of Oriental idolatry. "The Polish nation," said Count Radyiminiski, the Palatine of Gnesna, "presents itself before your Majesty, groaning still under the yoke of German nations, and salutes with the purest joy the regenerator of their dear country, the legislator of the universe. Full of submission to your will, they adore you, and repose on you with confidence all their hopes, as upon him who has the power of raising empires and destroying them, and of humbling the proud." The address of the President of the Judicial Council-Chamber of the Regency of Poland, was not less energetic. "Already," he said, "we see our dear country saved; for in your person we adore the most just and the most profound Solon. We commit our fate and our hopes into your hands, and we implore the mighty protection of the most august CÆsar."

Not even these Eastern hyperboles could extort any thing from Buonaparte more distinctly indicative of his intentions, than the obscure hints we have already mentioned.

In the meanwhile, Warsaw was put into a state of defence, and the auxiliary forces of Saxony and the new confederates of the Rhine were brought up by forced marches, while strong reinforcements from France repaired the losses of the early part of the campaign.

The French army at length advanced in full force, and crossed successively the rivers Vistula and Bug, forcing a passage wherever it was disputed. But it was not the object of Bennigsen to give battle to forces superior to his own, and he therefore retreated behind the Wkra, and was joined by the large bodies of troops commanded by Generals Buxhowden and Kaminskoy. The latter took the general command. He was a contemporary of Suwarrow, and esteemed an excellent officer, but more skilled in the theory than the practice of war. "Kaminskoy," said Suwarrow, "knows war, but war does not know him—I do not know war, but war knows me." It appears also, that during this campaign Kaminskoy was afflicted with mental alienation.

On the 23d December, Napoleon arrived in person upon the Wkra, and ordered the advance of his army in three divisions. Kaminskoy, when he saw the passage of this river forced, determined to retreat behind the Niemen, and sent orders to his lieutenants accordingly. Bennigsen, therefore, fell back upon Pultusk, and Prince Galitzin upon Golymin, both pursued by large divisions of the French army. The Russian Generals Buxhowden and D'Anrep also retreated in different directions, and apparently without maintaining a sufficiently accurate communication either with Bennigsen, or with Galitzin. In their retrograde movements the Russians sustained some loss, which the bulletins magnified to such an extent, as to represent their army as entirely disorganised, their columns wandering at hazard in unimaginable disorder, and their safety only caused by the shortness of the days, the difficulties of a country covered with woods and intersected with ravines, and a thaw which had filled the roads with mud to the depth of five feet. It was, therefore, predicted, that although the enemy might possibly escape from the position in which he had placed himself, it must necessarily be effected at the certain loss of his artillery, his carriages, and his baggage.[262]

These were exaggerations calculated for the meridian of Paris. Napoleon was himself sensible, that he was approaching a conflict of a different kind from that which he had maintained with Austria, and more lately against Prussia. The common soldier in both those services was too much levelled into a mere moving piece of machinery, the hundred-thousandth part of the great machine called an army, to have any confidence in himself, or zeal beyond the mere discharge of the task intrusted to him according to the word of command. These troops, however highly disciplined, wanted that powerful and individual feeling, which in armies possessing a strong national character, (by which the Russians are peculiarly distinguished,) induces the soldier to resist to the last moment, even when resistance can only assure him of revenge. They were still the same Russians, of whom Frederick the Great said, "that he could kill, but could not defeat them;"—they were also strong of constitution, and inured to the iron climate in which Frenchmen were now making war for the first time;—they were accustomed from their earliest life to spare nourishment and hardship;—in a word, they formed then, as they do now, the sole instance in Europe of an army, the privates of which are semi-barbarians, with the passions, courage, love of war, and devotion to their country, which is found in the earlier periods of society, while the education received by their superior officers places them on a level with those of any other nation. That of the inferior regimental officers is too much neglected; but they are naturally brave, kind to the common soldier, and united among themselves like a family of brothers,—attributes which go far to compensate the want of information. Among the higher officers, are some of the best informed men in Europe.

The Russian army was at this period deficient in its military staff, and thence imperfect in the execution of combined movements; and their generals were better accustomed to lead an army in the day of actual battle, than to prepare for victory by a skilful combination of previous manoeuvres. But this disadvantage was balanced by their zealous and unhesitating devotion to their Emperor and their country. There scarcely existed a Russian, even of the lowest rank, within the influence of bribery; and an officer, like the Prussian commandant of Hamelen, who began to speculate upon retaining his rank in another service, when surrendering the charge intrusted to him by his sovereign, would have been accounted in Russia a prodigy of unexampled villany. In the mode of disciplining their forces, the Russians proceeded on the system most approved in Europe. Their infantry was confessedly excellent, composed of men in the prime of life, and carefully selected as best qualified for military service. Their artillery was of the first description, so far as the men, guns, carriages, and appointments were concerned; but the rank of General of Artillery had not the predominant weight in the Russian army, which ought to be possessed by those particularly dedicated to the direction of that arm, by which, according to Napoleon, modern battles must be usually decided. The direction of their guns was too often intrusted to general officers of the line. The service of cavalry is less natural to the Russians than that of the infantry, but their horse regiments are nevertheless excellently trained, and have uniformly behaved well.

But the Cossacks are a species of force belonging to Russia exclusively; and although subsequent events have probably rendered every reader in some degree acquainted with their national character, they make too conspicuous a figure in the history of Napoleon, to be passed over without a brief description here.

The natives on the banks of the Don and the Volga hold their lands by military service, and enjoy certain immunities and prescriptions, in consequence of which each individual is obliged to serve four years in the Russian armies. They are trained from early childhood to the use of the lance and sword, and familiarized to the management of a horse peculiar to the country—far from handsome in appearance, but tractable, hardy, swift, and surefooted, beyond any breed perhaps in the world. At home, and with his family and children, the Cossack is kind, gentle, generous, and simple; but when in arms, and in a foreign country, he resumes the predatory, and sometimes the ferocious habits of his ancestors, the roving Scythians. As the Cossacks receive no pay, plunder is generally their object; and as prisoners were esteemed a useless encumbrance, they granted no quarter, until Alexander promised a ducat for every Frenchman whom they brought in alive. In the actual field of battle, their mode of attack is singular. Instead of acting in line, a body of Cossacks about to charge, disperse at the word of command, very much in the manner of a fan suddenly flung open, and, joining in a loud yell, or hourra, rush, each acting individually, upon the object of attack, whether infantry, cavalry, or artillery, to all of which they have been, in this wild way of fighting, formidable assailants. But it is as light cavalry that the Cossacks are perhaps unrivalled. They and their horses have been known to march one hundred miles in twenty-four hours without halting. They plunge into woods, swim rivers, thread passes, cross deep morasses, and penetrate through deserts of snow, without undergoing material loss, or suffering from fatigue. No Russian army, with a large body of Cossacks in front, can be liable to surprise; nor, on the other hand, can an enemy surrounded by them ever be confident against it. In covering the retreat of their own army, their velocity, activity and courage, render pursuit by the enemy's cavalry peculiarly dangerous; and in pursuing a flying enemy, these qualities are still more redoubtable. In the campaign of 1806-7, the Cossacks took the field in great numbers, under their celebrated Hettman, or Attaman, Platow, who, himself a Cossack, knew their peculiar capacity for warfare, and raised their fame to a pitch which it had not attained in former European wars.

The Russians had also in their service Tartar tribes, who in irregularity resembled the Cossacks, but were not to be compared with them in discipline or courage, being, in truth, little better than hordes of roving savages.

It remains only to be mentioned, that at this time the Russian commissariat was very indifferent, and, above all, deficient in funds. The funds of the Imperial treasury were exhausted, and an aid, amounting only to eighty thousand pounds, was obtained from England with difficulty. In consequence of these circumstances, the Russians were repeatedly, during the campaign, obliged to fight at disadvantage for want of provisions.—We return to the progress of the war.

On the 25th of December, the Russian army of Bennigsen, closely concentrated, occupied a position behind Pultusk; their left, commanded by Count Ostermann, resting upon the town, which is situated on the river Narew. A corps occupied the bridge, to prevent any attack from that point. The right, under Barclay de Tolly, was strongly posted in a wood, and the centre was under the orders of General Zachen. A considerable plain extended between the town of Pultusk and the wood, which formed the right of the Russian position. They had stationed a powerful advanced guard, had occupied the plain with their cavalry, and established a strong reserve in their rear. On the 26th, the Russian position was attacked by the French divisions of Lannes and Davoust, together with the French guards. After skirmishing some time in the centre, without making the desired impression, the battle appeared doubtful, when, suddenly assembling a great strength on their own left, the French made a decisive effort to overwhelm the Russians, by turning their right wing. The attack prevailed to a certain extent. The accumulated and superior weight of fire determined Barclay de Tolly to retreat on his reserves, which he did without confusion, while the French seized upon the wood, and took several Russian guns. But Bennigsen, in spite of Kaminskoy's order to retreat, was determined to abide the brunt of battle, and to avail himself of the rugged intrepidity of the troops which he commanded. Ordering Barclay de Tolly to continue his retreat, and thus throwing back his right wing, he enticed the French, confident in victory, to pursue their success, until the Russian cavalry, which had covered the manoeuvre, suddenly withdrawing, they found themselves under a murderous and well-directed fire from one hundred and twenty guns, which, extending along the Russian front, played on the French advancing columns with the utmost success. The Russian line at the same time advanced in turn, and, pushing the enemy before them, recovered the ground from which they had been driven. The approach of night ended the combat, which had been both obstinate and bloody. The French lost near eight thousand men, killed and wounded, including General Lannes and five other general officers among the latter. The Russian loss amounted to five thousand. The French retreated after nightfall with such rapidity, that on the next day the Cossacks could not find a rear-guard in the vicinity of Pultusk.[263]

The action of Pultusk raised the reputation of Bennigsen, and the character as well as the spirits of the Russian army; but its moral effect on the soldiers was its only important consequence. Had Bennigsen been joined during the action by the division of Buxhowden or D'Anrep, of whom the former was only eight miles distant, the check might have been converted into a victory, highly influential on the issue of the campaign. But either the orders of Kaminskoy, or some misunderstanding, prevented either of these corps from advancing to support the efforts of Bennigsen. It became impossible for him, therefore, notwithstanding the advantages he had obtained, to retain his position at Pultusk, where he must have been surrounded. He accordingly fell back upon Ostrolenka, where he was joined by Prince Galitzin, who had been engaged in action at Golymin upon the day of the battle of Pultusk; had, like Bennigsen, driven back the enemy, and like him had retreated for the purpose of concentrating his forces with those of the grand army. The French evinced a feeling of the unusual and obstinate nature of the contest in which they had been engaged at Pultusk and Golymin. Instead of pressing their operations, they retreated into winter quarters; Napoleon withdrawing his guard as far as Warsaw,[264] while the other divisions were cantoned in the towns to the eastward, but without attempting to realize the prophecies of the bulletins concerning the approaching fate of the Russian army.

The conduct of Kaminskoy began now to evince decided tokens of insanity. He was withdrawn from the supreme command, which, with the general approbation of the soldiers, was conferred upon Bennigsen. This general was not equal in military genius to Suwarrow, but he seems to have been well fitted to command a Russian army. He was active, hardy, and enterprising, and showed none of that peculiarly fatal hesitation, by which officers of other nations opposed to the French generals, and to Buonaparte in particular, seem often to have been affected, as with a sort of moral palsy, which disabled them for the combat at the very moment when it seemed about to commence. On the contrary, Bennigsen finding himself in a supreme command of ninety thousand men, was resolved not to wait for Buonaparte's onset, but determined to anticipate his motions; wisely concluding, that the desire of desisting from active operations, which the French Emperor had evinced by cantoning his troops in winter quarters, ought to be a signal to the Russians again to take the field.

The situation of the King of Prussia tended to confirm that determination. This unfortunate monarch—well surely did Frederick William then deserve that epithet—was cooped up in the town of KÖnigsberg, only covered by a small army of a few thousand men, and threatened by the gradual approach of the divisions of Ney and Bernadotte; so that the King's personal safety appeared to be in considerable danger. Graudentz, the key of the Vistula, continued indeed to hold out, but the Prussian garrison was reduced to distress, and the hour of surrender seemed to be approaching. To relieve this important fortress, therefore, and at the same time protect KÖnigsberg, were motives added to the other reasons which determined Bennigsen to resume offensive operations. A severe and doubtful skirmish was fought near Mohrungen,[265] in which the French sustained considerable loss. The Cossacks spread abroad over the country, making numerous prisoners; and the scheme of the Russian general succeeded so well, as to enable the faithful L'Estocq to relieve Graudentz with reinforcements and provisions.

By these daring operations, Buonaparte saw himself forced into a winter campaign, and issued general orders for drawing out his forces, with the purpose of concentrating them at Willenberg, in the rear of the Russians, (then stationed at Mohrungen,) and betwixt them and their own country. He proposed, in short, to force his enemies eastward towards the Vistula, as at Jena he had compelled the Prussians to fight with their rear turned to the Rhine. Bernadotte had orders to engage the attention of Bennigsen upon the right, and detain him in his present situation, or rather, if possible, induce him to advance eastward towards Thorn, so as to facilitate the operation he meditated.

The Russian general learned Buonaparte's intention from an intercepted despatch,[266] and changed his purpose of advancing on Ney and Bernadotte. Marches and counter-marches took place, through a country at all times difficult, and now covered with snow. The experience and dexterity of the French secured some advantages; but these were fully counterbalanced by the daily annoyance and loss which they in turn sustained from Platow and his Cossacks. In cases where the French retreated, the Scythian lances were always on their rear; and when the Russians retired in turn, and were pursued by the French, with the same venturous spirit which they had displayed against others, the latter seldom failed to suffer for their presumption. There was found in the spearmen of the Don and Wolga a natural and instinctive turn for military stratagem, ambuscade, and sudden assault, which compelled the French light troops to adopt a caution, very different from their usual habits of audacity.

Bennigsen was aware that it was the interest of Russia to protract the campaign in this manner. He was near his reinforcements, the French were distant from theirs; every loss, therefore, told more in proportion on the enemy, than on his army. On the other hand, the Russian army, impatient of protracted hostilities, became clamorous for battle; for the hardships of their situation were such as to give them every desire to bring the war to a crisis. We have noticed the defects of the Russian Commissariat. They were especially manifest during those campaigns, when the leader was obliged more than once, merely from want of provisions, to peril the fate of the war upon a general battle, which prudence would have induced him to avoid. In those northern latitudes, and in the month of February, the troops had no resource but to prowl about, and dig for the hoards of provision concealed by the peasants. This labour, added to their military duty, left them scarcely time to lie down; and when they did so, they had no bed but the snow, no shelter but the wintry heaven, and no covering but their rags.[267] The distresses of the army were so extreme, that it induced General Bennigsen, against his judgment, to give battle at all risks, and for this purpose to concentrate his forces at Preuss-Eylau, which was pitched on as the field on which he proposed to await Buonaparte.

In marching through Landsberg to occupy the selected ground, the Russian rear-guard was exposed to a serious attack by the French, and was only saved from great loss by the gallantry of Prince Bagration, who redeemed, by sheer dint of fighting, the loss sustained by want of conduct in defiling through the streets of a narrow village, while pursued by an enterprising enemy. The Russian army lost 3000 men. On the 7th February, the same gallant prince, with the Russian rear-guard, gained such decided advantages over the French van as nearly balanced the loss at Landsberg, and gave time for the whole army to march through the town of Preuss-Eylau, and to take up a position behind it. It had been intended to maintain the town itself, and a body of troops had been left for that purpose; but in the confusion attending the movement of so large an army, the orders issued had been misunderstood, and the division designed for this service evacuated the place so soon as the rear-guard had passed through it.

A Russian division was hastily ordered to re-occupy Preuss-Eylau. They found the French already in possession, and, although they dislodged them, were themselves driven out in turn by another division of French, to whom Buonaparte had promised the plunder of the town. A third division of Russians was ordered to advance; for Bennigsen was desirous to protract the contest for the town until the arrival of his heavy artillery, which joined him by a different route. When it came up, he would have discontinued the struggle for possession of Preuss-Eylau, but it was impossible to control the ardour of the Russian columns, who persevered in advancing with drums beating, rushed into the town, and surprising the French in the act of sacking it, put many of them to the bayonet, even in the acts of license which they were practising. Preuss-Eylau, however, proved no place of shelter. It was protected by no works of any kind; and the French, advancing under cover of the hillocks and broken ground which skirt the village, threw their fire upon the streets, by which the Russians sustained some loss. General Barclay de Tolly was wounded, and his forces again evacuated the town, which was once more and finally occupied by the French. Night fell, and the combat ceased, to be renewed with treble fury on the next day.

The position of the two armies may be easily described. That of Russia occupied a space of uneven ground, about two miles in length and a mile in depth, with the village of Serpallen on their left; in the front of their army lay the town of Preuss-Eylau, situated in a hollow, and in possession of the French. It was watched by a Russian division; which, to protect the Russian centre from being broken by an attack from that quarter, was strongly reinforced, though by doing so the right wing was considerably weakened. This was thought of the less consequence, that L'Estocq, with his division of Prussians, was hourly expected to join the Russians on that point. The French occupied Eylau with their left, while their centre and right lay parallel to the Russians, upon a chain of heights which commanded in a great measure the ground possessed by the enemy. They also expected to be reinforced by the division of Ney, which had not come up, and which was destined to form on the extreme left.

The space betwixt the hostile armies was open and flat, and intersected with frozen lakes. They might trace each other's position by the pale glimmer of the watch-lights upon the snow. The difference of numerical force was considerably to the advantage of the French. Sir Robert Wilson rates them at 90,000 men, opposed to 60,000 only; but the disproportion is probably considerably over-rated.[268]

The eventful action commenced with daybreak on the 8th of February. Two strong columns of the French advanced, with the purpose of turning the right, and storming the centre, of the Russians, at one and the same time. But they were driven back in great disorder by the heavy and sustained fire of the Russian artillery. An attack on the Russian left was equally unsuccessful. The Russian infantry stood like stone ramparts—they repulsed the enemy—their cavalry came to their support, pursued the retiring assailants, and took standards and eagles. About mid-day, a heavy storm of snow began to fall, which the wind drove right in the face of the Russians, and which added to the obscurity caused by the smoke of the burning village of Serpallen, that rolled along the line.

Under cover of the darkness, six columns of the French advanced with artillery and cavalry, and were close on the Russian position ere they were opposed. Bennigsen, at the head of his staff, brought up the reserves in person, who, uniting with the first line, bore the French back at the point of the bayonet. Their columns, partly broken, were driven again to their own position, where they rallied with difficulty. A French regiment of cuirassiers, which, during this part of the action, had gained an interval in the Russian army, were charged by the Cossacks, and found their defensive armour no protection against the lance. They were all slain except eighteen.[269]

At the moment when victory appeared to declare for the Russians, it was on the point of being wrested from them. Davoust's division had been manoeuvring since the beginning of the action to turn the left, and gain the rear, of the Russian line. They now made their appearance on the field of battle with such sudden effect, that Serpallen was lost, the Russian left wing, and a part of their centre, were thrown into disorder, and forced to retire and change their front, so as to form almost at right angles with the right, and that part of the centre which retained their original position.

At this crisis, and while the French were gaining ground on the rear of the Russians, L'Estocq, so long expected, appeared in his turn suddenly on the field, and, passing the left of the French, and the right of the Russians, pushed down in three columns to redeem the battle on the Russian centre and rear. The Prussians, under that loyal and gallant leader, regained in this bloody field their ancient military reputation. They never fired till within a few paces of the enemy, and then used the bayonet with readiness and courage. They redeemed the ground which the Russians had lost, and drove back in their turn the troops of Davoust and Bernadotte, who had been lately victorious.

Ney, in the meanwhile, appeared on the field, and occupied Schloditten, a village on the road to KÖnigsberg. As this endangered the communication of the Russians with that town, it was thought necessary to carry it by storm—a gallant resolution, which was successfully executed.[270] This was the last act of the bloody day. It was ten o'clock at night, and the combat was ended.[271]

Fifty thousand men perished in this dreadful battle—the best contested in which Buonaparte had yet engaged, and by far the most unsuccessful. He retired to the heights from which he had advanced in the morning, without having gained one point for which he had struggled, and after having suffered a loss considerably greater than that which he had inflicted on the enemy. But the condition of the Russian army was also extremely calamitous. Their generals held a council of war upon the field of battle, and without dismounting from their horses. The general sentiment which prevailed among them was, a desire to renew the battle on the next day, at all hazards. Tolstoy undertook to move forward on the French lines—L'Estocq urged the same counsel. They offered to pledge their lives, that, would Bennigsen advance, Napoleon must necessarily retire; and they urged the moral effect which would be produced, not on their army only, but on Germany and on Europe, by such an admission of weakness on the part of him who had never advanced but to victory. But Bennigsen conceived that the circumstances of his army did not permit him to encounter the hazard of being cut off from KÖnigsberg, and endangering the person of the King of Prussia; or that of risking a second general action, with an army diminished by at least 20,000 killed and wounded, short of ammunition, and totally deprived of provisions. The Russians accordingly commenced their retreat on KÖnigsberg that very night. The division of Count Ostermann did not move till the next morning, when it traversed the field in front of Preuss-Eylau, without the slightest interruption from the French, who still occupied the town.[272]

The battle of Preuss-Eylau was claimed as a victory by both parties, though it was very far from being decided in favour of either. Bennigsen had it to boast, that he had repelled the attacks of Buonaparte along the whole of his line, and that the fighting terminated unfavourably to the French. He could also exhibit the unusual spectacle of twelve imperial eagles of France, taken in one action. For many days after the battle, also, the Cossacks continued to scour the country, and bring into KÖnigsberg great numbers of French prisoners. On the other hand, the subsequent retreat of the Russians was interpreted by the French into an acknowledgment of weakness; and they appealed to their own possession of the field of battle, with the dead and wounded, as the usual testimonials of victory.

But there were two remarkable circumstances by which Napoleon virtually acknowledged that he had received an unusual check. On the 13th February, four days after the battle, a message was despatched to the King of Prussia by Buonaparte, proposing an armistice, on grounds far more favourable to the Prince than those Frederick William might have been disposed to accept, or which Buonaparte would have been inclined to grant, after the battle of Jena. It was even intimated, that in case of agreeing to make a separate peace, the Prussian King might obtain from the French Emperor the restoration of his whole dominions. True to his ally the Emperor of Russia, Frederick William, even in the extremity of his distress, refused to accede to any save a general peace. The proposal of an armistice was also peremptorily refused, and the ground on which it was offered was construed to indicate Buonaparte's conscious weakness.

Another decisive proof of the loss which Napoleon had sustained in the battle of Preuss-Eylau, was his inactivity after the battle. For eight days he remained without making any movement, excepting by means of his cavalry, which were generally worsted, and on the 19th February he evacuated the place, and prepared himself to retreat upon the Vistula, instead of driving the Russians, as he had threatened, behind the Pregel. Various actions took place, during his retreat, with different fortunes, but the Russian Cossacks and light troops succeeded in making numbers of prisoners, and collecting much spoil.

The operations of Napoleon, when he had again retired to the line of the Vistula, intimated caution, and the sense of a difficult task before him. He appeared to feel, that the advance into Poland had been premature, while Dantzic remained in the hands of the Prussians, from whence the most alarming operations might take place in his rear, should he again advance to the Vistula without subduing it. The siege of Dantzic was therefore to be formed without delay. The place was defended by General Kalkreuth to the last extremity. After many unsuccessful attempts to relieve it, Dantzic finally surrendered in the end of May 1807, after trenches had been opened before it for fifty-two days.[273] If the season of the year had admitted, a British expedition to Dantzic might, if ably conducted, have operated in the rear of the Emperor Napoleon the relief of Prussia, and perhaps effected the liberation of Europe.

The utmost care was also taken to supply the loss which Napoleon's armies had sustained in these hard-fought campaigns. He raised the siege of Colberg, drew the greater part of his forces out of Silesia, ordered a new levy in Switzerland, urged the march of bodies of troops from Italy, and, to complete his means, demanded a new conscription of the year 1808, which was instantly complied with by the Senate as a matter of course. At length, as summer approached, the surrender of Dantzic enabled him to unite the besieging division, twenty-five thousand strong, to his main army, and to prepare to resume offensive operations. A large levy of Poles was made at the same time; and they, with other light troops of the French, were employed in making strong reconnoissances, with various fortune, but never without the exchange of hard blows. It became evident to all Europe, that whatever might be the end of this bloody conflict, the French Emperor was contending with a general and troops, against whom it was impossible to gain those overpowering and irresistible advantages, which characterised his campaigns in Italy and Germany. The bulletins, it is true, announced new successes from day to day; but as the geographical advance upon the Polish territory was by no means in proportion to the advantages claimed, it was plain that Napoleon was as often engaged in parrying as in pushing, in repairing losses as in improving victories. The Russian generals composed plans with skill, and executed them with activity and spirit, for cutting off separate divisions, and disturbing the French communications.

The Russian army had received reinforcements; but they were deficient in numerical amount, and only made up their strength, at the utmost, to their original computation of 90,000 men. This proved unpardonable negligence in the Russian Government, considering the ease with which men can there be levied to any extent by the mere will of the Emperor, and the vital importance of the war which they were now waging. It is said, however, that the poverty of the Russian Administration was the cause of this failure to recruit their forces; and that the British being applied to, to negotiate a loan of six millions, and advance one million to account, had declined the transaction, and thereby given great offence to the Emperor Alexander.

Napoleon, so much more remote from his own territories, had already, by exertions unparalleled in the history of Europe, assembled two hundred and eighty thousand men between the Vistula and Memel, including the garrison of Dantzic. With such unequal forces the war recommenced.

The Russians were the assailants, making a combined movement on Ney's division, which was stationed at Gutstadt, and in the vicinity. They pursued him as far as Deppen, where there was some fighting; but upon the 8th of June, Napoleon advanced in person to extricate his marshal, and Bennigsen was obliged to retreat in his turn. He was hardly pressed on the rear by the Grand Army of France. But even in this moment of peril, Platow, with his Cossacks, made a charge, or, in their phrase, a hourra, upon the French, with such success, that they not only dispersed the skirmishers of the French vanguard, and the advanced troops destined to support them, but compelled the infantry to form squares, endangered the personal safety of Napoleon, and occupied the attention of the whole French cavalry, who bore down on them at full speed. Musketry and artillery were all turned on them at once, but to little or no purpose; for, having once gained the purpose of checking the advance, which was all they aimed at, the cloud of Cossacks dispersed over the field, like mist before the sun, and united behind the battalions whom their demonstration had protected.

By this means Platow and his followers had got before the retreating division of the Russian army under Bagration, which they were expected to support, and had reached first a bridge over the Aller. The Cossacks were alarmed by the immense display of force demonstrated against them, and showed a disposition to throw themselves confusedly on the bridge, which must certainly have been attended with the most disastrous consequences to the rear-guard, who would thus have been impeded in their retreat by the very troops appointed to support them. The courage and devotion of Platow prevented that great misfortune. He threw himself from his horse. "Let the Cossack that is base enough," he exclaimed, "desert his Hettman!" The children of the wilderness halted around him, and he disposed them in perfect order to protect the retreat of Bagration and the rear-guard, and afterwards achieved his own retreat with trifling loss.[274]

The Russian army fell back upon Heilsberg, and there concentrating their forces made a most desperate stand. A very hard-fought action [10th June] here took place. The Russians, overpowered by superior numbers, and forced from the level ground, continued to defend with fury their position on the heights, which the French made equally strenuous efforts to carry by assault. The combat was repeatedly renewed, with cavalry, infantry, and artillery, but without the fiery valour of the assailants making any effectual impression on the iron ranks of the Russians.[275] The battle continued, till the approach of midnight, upon terms of equality; and when the morning dawned, the space of ground between the position of the Russians and that of the French, was not merely strewed, but literally sheeted over, with the bodies of the dead and wounded.[276] The Russians retired unmolested after the battle of Heilsberg, and crossing the river Aller, placed that barrier betwixt them and the army of Buonaparte, which, though it had suffered great losses, had, in consequence of the superiority of numbers, been less affected by them than the Russian forces. In the condition of Bennigsen's army, it was his obvious policy to protract the war, especially as reinforcements, to the number of thirty thousand men, were approaching the frontier from the interior of the empire. It was probably with this view that he kept his army on the right bank of the Aller, with the exception of a few bodies of cavalry, for the sake of observation and intelligence.

On the 13th, the Russian army reached Friedland, a considerable town on the west side of the Aller, communicating with the eastern, or right bank of the river, by a long wooden bridge. It was the object of Napoleon to induce the Russian general to pass by this narrow bridge to the left bank, and then to decoy him into a general action, in a position where the difficulty of defiling through the town, and over the bridge, must render retreat almost impossible. For this purpose he showed such a proportion only 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 altogether to destroy. Under this deception he ordered a Russian division to pass the bridge, defile through the town, and march to the assault. The French took care to offer no such resistance as should intimate their real strength. Bennigsen was thus led to reinforce this division with another—the battle thickened, and 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 opposed.[277]

But no sooner had he taken this irretrievable step than the mask was dropped. The French skirmishers advanced in force; heavy columns of infantry began to show themselves; batteries of cannon were got into position; and all circumstances concurred, with the report of prisoners, to assure Bennigsen, that he, with his enfeebled forces, was in presence of the grand 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 his rear, it was dangerous to attempt a retreat, and to advance was prevented by the inequality of his force. Bennigsen now became anxious to maintain his communication with Wehlau, a town on the Pregel, which was the original point of retreat, and where he hoped to join with the Prussians under General L'Estocq. If the enemy should seize the bridge at Allerberg, some miles lower down the Aller than Friedland, this plan would become impossible, and he found himself therefore obliged to diminish his forces, by detaching six thousand men to defend that point. With the remainder of his force he resolved to maintain his present position till night.

The French advanced to the attack about ten o'clock. The broken and wooded country which they occupied, enabled them to maintain and renew their efforts at pleasure, while the Russians, in their exposed situation, could not make the slightest movement without being observed. Yet they fought with such obstinate valour, that at noon the French seemed sickening of the contest, and about to retire. But this was only a feint, to repose such of their forces as had been engaged, and to bring up reinforcements. The cannonade continued till about half past four, when Buonaparte brought up his full force in person, for the purpose of one of those desperate and generally irresistible efforts to which he was wont to trust the decision of a doubtful day. Columns of enormous power, and extensive depth, appeared partially visible among the interstices of the wooded country, and, seen from the town of Friedland, the hapless Russian army looked as if surrounded by a deep semicircle of glittering steel. The attack upon all the line, with cavalry, infantry, and artillery, was general and simultaneous, the French advancing with shouts of assured victory; while the Russians, weakened by the loss of at least twelve thousand killed and wounded, were obliged to attempt that most dispiriting and dangerous of movements—a retreat through encumbered defiles, in front of a superior enemy. The principal attack was on the left wing, where the Russian position was at length forced. The troops which composed it streamed into the town, and crowded the bridge and pontoons; the enemy thundered on their rear, and without the valour of Alexander's Imperial Guard, the Russians would have been utterly destroyed. These brave soldiers charged with the bayonet the corps of Ney, who led the French vanguard, disordered his column, and, though they were overpowered by numbers, prevented the total ruin of the left wing.

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 combatants, increased the horror and confusion of the scene; yet a considerable part of the Russian infantry escaped through a ford close by the town, which was discovered in the moment of defeat. The Russian centre and right, who remained on the west bank 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 passing the Aller by a ford considerably farther down the river. This also was found out in the very moment of extremity—was deep and dangerous, took the infantry up to the breast, and destroyed what ammunition was left in the tumbrils.

Thus were the Russians once more united on the right bank of the Aller, and enabled to prosecute their march towards Wehlau. Amid the calamities of defeat, they had saved all their cannon except seventeen, and preserved their baggage. Indeed, the stubborn character of their defence seems to have paralysed the energies of the victor, who, after carrying the Russian position, showed little of that activity in improving his success, which usually characterised him upon such occasions. He pushed no troops over the Aller in pursuit of the retreating enemy, but suffered Bennigsen to rally his broken troops without interruption. Neither, when in possession of Friedland, did he detach any force down the left bank, to act upon the flank of the Russian centre and right, and cut them off from the river. In short, the battle of Friedland, according to the expression of a French general, was a battle gained, but a victory lost.[278]

Yet the most important consequences resulted from the action, though the French success had been but partially improved. KÖnigsberg,[279] which had been so long the refuge of the King of Prussia, was evacuated by his forces, as it became plain his Russian auxiliaries could no longer maintain the war in Poland.[280] Bennigsen retreated to Tilsit, towards the Russian frontiers. But the moral consequences of the defeat were of far greater consequence than could have been either the capture of guns and prisoners, or the acquisition of territory. It had the effect, evidently desired by Napoleon, of disposing the Emperor Alexander to peace. The former could not but feel that he was engaged with a more obstinate enemy in Russia, than any he had yet encountered. After so many bloody battles, he was scarce arrived on the frontiers of an immense empire, boundless in its extent, and almost inexhaustible in resources; while the French, after suffering extremely in defeating an army that was merely auxiliary, could scarce be supposed capable of undertaking a scheme of invasion so gigantic, as that of plunging into the vast regions of Muscovy.

Such an enterprise would have been peculiarly hazardous in the situation in which the French Emperor now stood. The English expedition to the Baltic was daily expected. Gustavus was in Swedish Pomerania, at the head of a considerable army which had raised the siege of Stralsund. A spirit of resistance was awakening in Prussia, where the resolute conduct of Blucher had admirers and imitators, and the nation seemed to be reviving from the consternation inflicted by the defeat of Jena. The celebrated Schill, a partisan of great courage and address, had gained many advantages, and was not unlikely, in a nation bred to arms, to acquire the command of a numerous body of men. Hesse, Hanover, Brunswick, and the other provinces of Germany, deprived of their ancient princes, and subjected to heavy exactions by the conquerors, were ripe for insurrection. All these dangers were of a nature from which little could be apprehended, while the Grand Army was at a moderate distance; but were it to advance into Russia, especially were it to meet with a check there, these sparks of fire, left in the rear, might be expected to kindle a dreadful conflagration.

Moved by such considerations, Napoleon had fully kept open the door for reconciliation betwixt the Czar and himself, abstaining from all those personal reflections against him, which he usually showered upon those who thwarted his projects, and intimating more than once, by different modes of communication, that a peace, which should enable Russia and France to divide the world betwixt them, should be placed within Alexander's reach so soon as he was disposed to accept it.

The time was now arrived when the Emperor of Russia was disposed to listen to terms of accommodation with France. He had been for some time dissatisfied with his allies. Against Frederick William, indeed, nothing could be objected, save his bad fortune; but what is it that so soon deprives us of our friends as a constant train of bad luck, rendering us always a burden more than an aid to them? The King of Sweden was a feeble ally at best, and had become so unpopular with his subjects, that his dethronement was anticipated; and it was probably remembered, that the Swedish province of Finland extended so near to St. Petersburgh, as to be a desirable acquisition, which, in the course of a treaty with Buonaparte, might be easily attained.

The principal ally of the Czar had been Britain. But he was displeased, as we have already noticed, with the economy of the English Cabinet, who had declined, in his instance, the loans and subsidies, of which they used to be liberal to allies of far less importance. A subsidy of about eighty thousand pounds, was all which he had been able to extract from them. England had, indeed, sent an army into the north to join the Swedes, in forming the siege of Stralsund; but this was too distant an operation to produce any effect upon the Polish campaign. Alexander was also affected by the extreme sufferings of his subjects. His army had been to him, as to most young sovereigns, a particular object of attention; and he was justly proud of his noble regiments of Guards, which, maltreated as they had been in the desperate actions of which we have given some account, remained scarce the shadow of themselves, in numbers and appearance. His fame, moreover, suffered little in withdrawing from a contest in which he was engaged as an auxiliary only; and Alexander was no doubt made to comprehend, that he might do more in behalf of the King of Prussia, his ally, by negotiation, than by continuation of the war. The influence of Napoleon's name, and the extraordinary splendour of his talents and his exploits, must also have had an effect upon the youthful imagination of the Russian Emperor. He might be allowed to feel pride (high as his own situation was) that the Destined Victor, who had subdued so many princes, was willing to acknowledge an equality in his case; and he might not yet be so much aware of the nature of ambition, as to know that it holds the world as inadequate to maintain two co-ordinate sovereigns.

The Russian Emperor's wish of an armistice was first hinted at by Bennigsen, on the 21st of June, was ratified on the 23d of the same month, and was soon afterwards followed, not only by peace with Russia and Prussia, on a basis which seemed to preclude the possibility of future misunderstanding, but by the formation of a personal intimacy and friendship between Napoleon and the only sovereign in Europe, who had the power necessary to treat with him on an equal footing.

The negotiation for this important pacification was not conducted in the usual style of diplomacy, but in that which Napoleon had repeatedly shown a desire to substitute for the conferences of inferior agents, by the intervention, namely, of the high-contracting parties in person.

The armistice was no sooner agreed upon, than preparations were made for a personal interview betwixt the two Emperors.[281] It took place upon a raft prepared for the purpose, and moored in the midst of the river Niemen, which bore an immense tent or pavilion. At half-past nine, 25th June, 1807, the two Emperors, in the midst of thousands of spectators, embarked at the same moment from the opposite banks of the river. Buonaparte was attended by Murat, Berthier, BessiÈres, Duroc, and Caulaincourt; Alexander, by his brother the Archduke Constantine, Generals Bennigsen and Ouwarrow, with the Count de Lieven, one of his aides-de-camp. Arriving on the raft, they disembarked and embraced, amid the shouts and acclamations of both armies, and entering the pavilion which had been prepared, held a private conference of two hours. Their officers, who remained at a distance during the interview, were then reciprocally introduced, and the fullest good understanding seemed to be established between the sovereigns, who had at their disposal so great a portion of the universe.[282] It is not to be doubted, that on this momentous occasion Napoleon exerted all those personal powers of attraction, which, exercised on the part of one otherwise so distinguished, rarely failed to acquire the good-will of all with whom he had intercourse, when he was disposed to employ them.[283] He possessed also, in an eminent degree, the sort of eloquence which can make the worse appear the better reason, and which, turning into ridicule the arguments derived from general principles of morality or honesty, which he was accustomed to term idiosyncrasy, makes all reasoning rest upon existing circumstances. Thus, all the maxims of truth and honour might be plausibly parried by those arising out of immediate convenience; and the direct interest, or what seemed the direct interest, of the party whom he wished to gain over, was put in immediate opposition to the dictates of moral sentiment, and of princely virtue. In this manner he might plausibly represent, in many points, that the weal of Alexander's empire might require him to strain some of the maxims of truth and justice, and to do a little wrong in order to attain a great national advantage.

The town of Tilsit was now declared neutral. Entertainments of every kind followed each other in close succession, and the French and Russian, nay, even the Prussian officers, seemed so delighted with each other's society, that it was difficult to conceive that men, so courteous and amiable, had been for so many months drenching trampled snows and muddy wastes with each other's blood. The two Emperors were constantly together in public and in private, and on those occasions their intimacy approached to the character of that of two young men of rank, who are comrades in sport or frolic, as well as accustomed to be associates in affairs, and upon occasions, of graver moment. They are well known to have had private and confidential meetings, where gaiety and even gallantry seemed to be the sole purpose, but where politics were not entirely forgotten.[284]

Upon the more public occasions, there were guests at the imperial festivities, for which they contained small mirth. On the 28th, the unfortunate King of Prussia arrived at Tilsit, and was presented to his formidable victor. Buonaparte did not admit him to the footing of equality on which he treated the Emperor Alexander, and made an early intimation, that it would only be for the purpose of obliging his brother of the North, that he might consent to relax his grasp on the Prussian territories. Those in the King's own possession were reduced to the petty territory of Memel, with the fortresses of Colberg and Graudentz. It was soon plain, that the terms on which he was to be restored to a part of his dominions, would deprive Prussia of almost all the accessions which had been made since 1773, under the system and by the talents of the Great Frederick, and reduce her at once from a first-rate power in Europe to one of the second class.

The beautiful and unfortunate Queen, whose high spirit had hastened the war, was anxious, if possible, to interfere with such weight as female intercession might use to diminish the calamities of the peace. It was but on the first day of the foregoing April, that when meeting the Emperor Alexander at KÖnigsberg, and feeling the full difference betwixt that interview and those at Berlin which preceded the war, Alexander and Frederick William had remained locked for a time in each other's arms; the former shedding tears of compassion, the latter of grief. On the same occasion, the Queen, as she saluted the Emperor, could only utter amidst her tears the words, "Dear cousin!" intimating at once the depth of their distress, and their affectionate confidence in the magnanimity of their ally. This scene was melancholy, but that which succeeded it at Tilsit was more so, for it was embittered by degradation. The Queen, who arrived at the place of treaty some days after her husband, was now not only to support the presence of Napoleon, in whose official prints she was personally abused, and who was the author of all the misfortunes which had befallen her country; but if she would in any degree repair these misfortunes, it could only be by exciting his compassion, and propitiating his favour. "Forgive us," she said, "this fatal war—the memory of the Great Frederick deceived us—we thought ourselves his equals because we are his descendants—alas, we have not proved such!" With a zeal for the welfare of Prussia, which must have cost her own feelings exquisite pain, she used towards Napoleon those arts of insinuation, by which women possessed of high rank, great beauty, wit, and grace, frequently exercise an important influence. Desirous to pay his court, Napoleon on one occasion offered her a rose of uncommon beauty. The Queen at first seemed to decline receiving the courtesy—then accepted it, adding the stipulation—"At least with Magdeburg."[285] Buonaparte, as he boasted to Josephine, was proof against these lady-like artifices, as wax-cloth is against rain. "Your Majesty will be pleased to remember," he said, "that it is I who offer, and that your Majesty has only the task of accepting."[286]

It was discourteous to remind the unfortunate princess how absolutely she was at the mercy of the victor, and unchivalrous to dispute that a lady, accepting a courtesy, has a right to conceive herself as conferring an obligation, and is therefore entitled to annex a condition. But it is true, on the other hand, as Napoleon himself urged, that it would have been playing the gallant at a high price, if he had exchanged towns and provinces in return for civilities. It is not believed that the Queen of Prussia succeeded, to any extent, in obtaining a modification of the terms to which her husband was subjected; and it is certain, that she felt so deeply the distress into which her country was plunged, that her sense of it brought her to an untimely grave. The death of this interesting and beautiful Queen,[287] not only powerfully affected the mind of her husband and family, but the Prussian nation at large; who, regarding her as having died a victim to her patriotic sorrow for the national misfortunes, recorded her fate as one of the many injuries for which they were to call France and Napoleon to a severe accompting.

The terms imposed on Prussia by the treaty of Tilsit,[288] were briefly these:—

That portion of Poland acquired by Prussia in the partition of 1772, was disunited from that kingdom, and erected into a separate territory, to be called the Grand Duchy of Warsaw. It was to be held by the King of Saxony, under the character of Grand Duke; and it was stipulated that he was to have direct communication with this new acquisition by means of a military road across Silesia, a privilege likely to occasion constant jealousy betwixt the courts of Berlin and Warsaw. Thus ended the hope of the Poles to be restored to the condition of an independent nation. They merely exchanged the dominion of one German master for another—Prussia for Saxony, Frederick William for Augustus—the only difference being, that the latter was descended from the ancient Kings of Poland. They were, however, subjected to a milder and more easy yoke than that which they had hitherto borne; nor does it appear that the King (as he had been created) of Saxony derived any real addition of authority and consequence from the Grand Duchy of Warsaw. It seems, indeed, probable, that the erection of this sovereignty was the effect of a composition between the Emperors; Napoleon, on the one hand, renouncing all attempts at the liberation of Poland, which he could not have persevered in without continuing the war with Russia, and perhaps with Austria also; and Alexander consenting that Prussia should be deprived of her Polish dominions, under the stipulation that they were to be transferred to Saxony, from whose vicinity his empire could apprehend little danger.

The constitution arranged for the Grand Duchy, also, was such as was not liable to lead to disturbances among those provinces of Poland which were united with Austria and Russia. Slavery was abolished, and the equality of legal rights among all ranks of citizens was acknowledged. The Grand Duke held the executive power. A Senate, or Upper House, of eighteen members, and a Lower House of nuncios, or deputies, amounting to a hundred, passed into laws, or rejected at their pleasure, such propositions as the Duke laid before them. But the Diets, the Pospolite, the Liberum Veto, and all the other turbulent privileges of the Polish nobles, continued abolished, as they had been under the Prussian government.

Buonaparte made it his boast that he had returned the Prussian territories, not to the House of Brandenburgh, but to Alexander; so that if Frederick William yet reigned, it was only, he said, by the friendship of Alexander,—"a term," he added, "which he himself did not recognise in the vocabulary of sovereigns, under the head of state affairs." Alexander, however, was not altogether so disinterested as Buonaparte, with something like a sneer, thus seemed to insinuate. There was excepted from the Grand Duchy of Warsaw, and added to the territory of Russia at the expense of Prussia, the province of Bialystock, serving materially to improve the frontier of the empire. Thus the Czar, in some degree, profited by the distress of his ally. The apology for his conduct must rest, first, on the strength of the temptation to stretch his empire towards the Vistula, as a great natural boundary; secondly, on the plea, that if he had declined the acquisition from a point of delicacy, Saxony, not Prussia would have profited by his self-denial, as the territory of Bialystock would, in that event, have gone to augment the Duchy of Warsaw. Russia ceded the lordship of Jever to Holland, as an ostensible compensation for her new acquisition.[289]

Dantzic, with a certain surrounding territory, was, by the treaty of Tilsit, recognised as a free city, under the protection of Prussia and Saxony. There can be little doubt, that the farther provision, that France should occupy the town until the conclusion of a maritime peace, was intended to secure, for the use of Napoleon, a place of arms, so important in case of a new breach betwixt him and Russia.

It followed, as a matter of course, that the Emperor Alexander and the King of Prussia ratified all the changes which Napoleon had wrought on Europe, acknowledged the thrones which he had erected, and recognised the leagues which he had formed. On the other hand, out of deference to the Emperor, Buonaparte consented that the Dukes of Saxe-Coburg, Oldenburg, and Mecklenburg-Schwerin, German princes connected with Alexander, should remain in possession of their territories; the French, however, continuing to occupy the seaports of the two countries last named, until a final peace betwixt France and England.

While these important negotiations were proceeding, a radical change took place in the councils of the British nation; what was called the Fox and Grenville administration being dissolved, and their place supplied by one formed under the auspices of the Duke of Portland, and comprehending Lords Liverpool, Castlereagh, Mr. Canning, and other statesmen, professing the principles of the late William Pitt. It was an anxious object with the new cabinet to reconcile the Czar to the alliance of England, and atone for the neglect with which he considered himself as having been treated by their predecessors. With this purpose, Lord Leveson Gower[290] was despatched with power to make such offers of conciliation as might maintain or renew an amicable intercourse between Britain and Russia. But the Emperor Alexander had taken his part, at least for the present; and, being predetermined to embrace the course recommended by his new ally Buonaparte, he avoided giving audience to the British ambassador, and took his measures at Tilsit, without listening to the offers of accommodation which Lord Gower was empowered to propose.

By the treaty of Tilsit, so far as made public, Russia offered her mediation betwixt Britain and France, on condition that the first named kingdom should accept the proffer of her interference within a month. So far, therefore, the Czar appeared to a certain extent careful of the interest of his late ally. But it is now perfectly well understood, that among other private articles of this memorable treaty, there existed one by which the Emperor bound himself, in case of Britain's rejecting the proposed mediation, to recognise and enforce what Buonaparte called the Continental System, by shutting his ports against British vessels, and engaging the Northern Courts in a new coalition, having for its object the destruction of English maritime superiority. In a word, the armed Northern Neutrality, originally formed under the auspices of Catherine, and in an evil hour adopted by the unfortunate Paul, was again to be established under the authority of Alexander. Denmark, smarting under the recollections of the battle of Copenhagen, only waited, it was thought, the signal to join such a coalition, and would willingly consent to lend her still powerful navy to its support; and Sweden was in too weak and distracted a state to resist the united will of France and Russia, either regarding war with Britain, or any other stipulations which it might be intended to impose upon her. But as there is no country of Europe to which the commerce of England is so beneficial as Russia, whose gross produce she purchases almost exclusively, it was necessary to observe strict secrecy upon these further objects. The ostensible proposal of mediation was therefore resorted to, less in the hope, perhaps, of establishing peace betwixt France and England, than in the expectation of affording a pretext, which might justify in the eye of the Russian nation a rupture with the latter power. But in spite of every precaution which could be adopted, the address of the British ambassador obtained possession of the secret which France and Russia deemed it so important to conceal; and Lord Gower was able to transmit to his court an exact account of this secret article, and particularly of the two Emperors having resolved to employ the Danish fleet in the destruction of the maritime rights of Britain, which had been so lately put upon a footing, that, to Alexander at least, had, till his recent fraternization with Buonaparte, seemed entirely satisfactory.

There were, no doubt, other secret articles named in the treaty of Tilsit, by which it seems to have been the object of these two great Emperors, as they loved to term themselves, of the North and of the South, to divide the civilized world between them.[291] It may be regarded as certain, that Buonaparte opened to Alexander the course of unprincipled policy which he intended to pursue respecting the kingdom of Spain, and procured his acquiescence in that daring usurpation. And it has been affirmed, that he also stipulated for the aid of Russia to take Gibraltar, to recover Malta and Egypt, and to banish the British flag from the Mediterranean. All these enterprises were more or less directly calculated to the depression, or rather the destruction of Great Britain, the only formidable enemy who still maintained the strife against France, and so far the promised co-operation of Russia must have been in the highest degree grateful to Napoleon. But Alexander, however much he might be Buonaparte's personal admirer, did not follow his father's simplicity in becoming his absolute dupe, but took care, in return for his compliance with the distant, and in some degree visionary projects of Buonaparte's ambition, to exact his countenance and co-operation in gaining certain acquisitions of the highest importance to Russia, and which were found at a future period to have added powerfully to her means of defence, when she once more matched her strength with that of France. To explain this, we must look back to the ancient policy of France and of Europe, when, by supporting the weaker states, and maintaining their dependence, it was the object to prevent the growth of any gigantic and over-bearing power, who might derange the balance of the civilized world.

The growing strength of Russia used in former times to be the natural subject of jealousy to the French Government, and they endeavoured to counterbalance these apprehensions by extending the protection of France to the two weaker neighbours of Russia, the Porte and the kingdom of Sweden, with which powers it had always been the policy of France to connect herself, and which connexion was not only honourable to that kingdom, but useful to Europe. But, at the treaty of Tilsit, and in Buonaparte's subsequent conduct relating to these powers, he lost sight of this national policy, or rather sacrificed it to his own personal objects.

One of the most important private articles of the treaty of Tilsit seems to have provided, that Sweden should be despoiled of her provinces of Finland in favour of the Czar, and be thus, with the consent of Buonaparte, deprived of all effectual means of annoying Russia. A single glance at the map will show how completely the possession of Finland put a Swedish army, or the army of France as an ally of Sweden, within a short march of St. Petersburgh; and how, by consenting to Sweden's being stripped of that important province, Napoleon relinquished the grand advantage to be derived from it, in case of his ever being again obliged to contend with Russia upon Russian ground. Yet there can be no doubt, that at the treaty of Tilsit he became privy to the war which Russia shortly after waged against Sweden, in which Alexander deprived that ancient kingdom of her frontier province of Finland, and thereby obtained a covering territory of the last and most important consequence to his own capital.

The Porte was no less made a sacrifice to the inordinate anxiety, which, at the treaty of Tilsit, Buonaparte seems to have entertained, for acquiring at any price the accession of Russia to his extravagant desire of destroying England. By the public treaty, indeed, some care seems to have been taken of the interests of Turkey, since it provides that Turkey was to have the benefit of peace under the mediation of France, and that Russia was to evacuate Moldavia and Wallachia, for the acquisition of which she was then waging an unprovoked war. But by the secret agreement of the two Emperors, it was unquestionably understood, that Turkey in Europe was to be placed at the mercy of Alexander, as forming naturally a part of the Russian Empire, as Spain, Portugal, and perhaps Great Britain, were, from local position, destined to become provinces of France. At the subsequent Congress betwixt the Emperors at Erfurt, their measures against the Porte were more fully adjusted.

It may seem strange, that the shrewd and jealous Napoleon should have suffered himself to be so much over-reached in his treaty with Alexander, since the benefits stipulated for France, in the treaty of Tilsit, were in a great measure vague, and subjects of hope rather than certainty. The British naval force was not easily to be subdued—Gibraltar and Malta are as strong fortresses as the world can exhibit—the conquest of Spain was at least a doubtful undertaking, if the last war of the Succession was carefully considered. But the Russian objects were nearer, and were within her grasp. Finland was seized on with little difficulty, nor did the conquest even of Constantinople possess any thing very difficult to a Russian army, if unopposed save by the undisciplined forces of the Turkish empire. Thus it is evident, that Napoleon exchanged, for distant and contingent prospects, his acquiescence in the Russian objects, which were near, essential, and, in comparison, of easy attainment. The effect of this policy we shall afterwards advert to. Meanwhile, the two most ancient allies of France, and who were of the greatest political importance to her in case of a second war with Russia, were most unwisely abandoned to the mercy of that power, who failed not to despoil Sweden of Finland, and, but for intervening causes, would probably have seized upon Constantinople with the same ease.

If the reader should wonder how Buonaparte, able and astucious as he was, came to be overreached in the treaty of Tilsit, we believe the secret may be found in a piece of private history. Even at that early period Napoleon nourished the idea of fixing, as he supposed, the fate of his own family, or dynasty, by connecting it by marriage with the blood of one of the established monarchies of Europe. He had hopes, even then, that he might obtain the hand of one of the Archduchesses of Russia, nor did the Emperor throw any obstacle in the way of the scheme. It is well known that his suit was afterwards disappointed by the Empress Mother, who pleaded the difference of religion; but at the time of the treaty of Tilsit, Napoleon was actually encouraged, or deceived himself into an idea that he received encouragement, to form a perpetual family connexion with Russia.[292] This induced him to deal easily with Alexander in the matters which they had to discuss together, and to act the generous, almost the prodigal friend. And this also seems to have been the reason why Napoleon frequently complained of Alexander's insincerity, and often termed him The Greek, according to the Italian sense of the name, which signifies a trickster or deceiver.

But we must return from the secret articles of the Tilsit treaty, which opened such long vistas in futurity, to the indisputable and direct consequences of that remarkable measure.

The treaty betwixt Russia and France was signed upon the 7th—that betwixt France and Prussia on the 9th July.[293] Frederick William published upon the 24th of the same month one of the most dignified, and at the same time the most affecting proclamations, that ever expressed the grief of an unfortunate sovereign.

"Dear inhabitants of faithful provinces, districts, and towns," said this most interesting document, "my arms have been unfortunate. The efforts of the relics of my army have been of no avail. Driven to the extreme boundaries of my empire, and having seen my powerful ally conclude an armistice, and sign a peace, no choice remained for me save to follow his example. That peace was necessarily purchased upon terms corresponding to imperious circumstances. It has imposed on me, and on my house—it has imposed upon the whole country, the most painful sacrifices. The bonds of treaties, the reciprocalities of love and duty, the work of ages, have been broken asunder. My efforts have proved in vain. Fate ordains it, and a father parts from his children. I release you completely from your allegiance to myself and to my house. My most ardent prayers for your welfare will always attend you in your relations to your new sovereign. Be to him what you have ever been to me. Neither force nor fate shall ever efface the remembrance of you from my heart."

To trace the triumphant return of the victor is a singular contrast to those melancholy effusions of the vanquished monarch. The treaty of Tilsit had ended all appearance of opposition to France upon the Continent. The British armament, which had been sent to Pomerania too late in the campaign, was re-embarked, and the King of Sweden, evacuating Stralsund, retired to the dominions which he was not very long destined to call his own. After having remained together for twenty days, during which they daily maintained the most friendly intercourse, and held together long and secret conferences, the two Emperors at last separated, with demonstrations of the highest personal esteem, and each heaping upon the other all the honours which it was in his power to bestow. The congress broke up on the 9th July; and on his return to France, Napoleon visited Saxony, and was there met at Bautzen (doomed for a very different reason to be renowned in his history) by King Augustus, who received him with the honours due to one who had, in outward appearance at least, augmented the power which he might have overthrown.

On 29th July, Napoleon, restored to his palace at St. Cloud, received the homage of the Senate, and other official and constitutional bodies. The celebrated naturalist LacepÈde, as the organ of the former body, made a pompous enumeration of the miracles of the campaign; and avowed, that the accomplishment of such wonderful actions as would seemingly have required ages, was but to Napoleon the work of a few months; while at the same time his ruling genius gave motion to all the domestic administration of his vast empire, and, although four hundred leagues distant from the capital, was present with and observant of the most complicated as well as extensive details. "We cannot," concludes the orator, "offer to your Majesty praises worthy of you. Your glory is too much raised above us. It will be the task of posterity, removed at a distance from your presence, to estimate with greater truth its real degree of elevation. Enjoy, sire, the recompense the most worthy of the greatest of monarchs, the happiness of being beloved by the greatest of nations, and may our great-grandchildren be long happy under your Majesty's reign."

So spoke the President of the French Senate; and who, that wished to retain the name of a rational being, dared have said, that, within the period of seven years, the same Senate would be carrying to the downfallen and dejected King of Prussia their congratulations on his share in the overthrow of the very man whom they were now adoring as a demigod!

The fortunes and fame of Napoleon were, indeed, such as to excite in the highest degree the veneration with which men look upon talents and success. All opposition seemed to sink before him, and Fortune appeared only to have looked doubtfully upon him during a part of the last campaign, in order to render still brighter the auspicious aspect under which she closed it. Many of his most confirmed enemies, who, from their proved attachment to the House of Bourbon, had secretly disowned the authority of Buonaparte, and doubted the continuance of his success, when they saw Prussia lying at his feet, and Russia clasping his hand in friendship, conceived they should be struggling against the decrees of Providence, did they longer continue to resist their predestined master. Austerlitz had shaken their constancy; Tilsit destroyed it: and with few and silent exceptions, the vows, hopes, and wishes of France, seemed turned on Napoleon as her Heir by Destiny. Perhaps he himself, only, could finally have disappointed their expectations. But he was like the adventurous climber on the Alps, to whom the surmounting the most tremendous precipices, and ascending to the most towering peaks only shows yet dizzier heights and higher points of elevation.