The command of the relics of the grand army had been conferred upon Murat, when Napoleon left them at Smorgoni. It was of too painful and disagreeable a nature to afford any food to the ambition of the King of Naples; nor did he accept it as an adequate compensation for various mortifications which he had sustained during the campaign, and for which, as has already been noticed, he nourished considerable resentment against his brother-in-law. Having, besides, more of the soldier than of the general, war lost its charms for him when he was not displaying his bravery at the head of his cavalry; and to augment his impatience, he became jealous of the authority which his wife was exercising at Naples during his absence, and longed to return thither. He, therefore, hastily disposed of the troops in the various Prussian fortresses recently enumerated, where the French maintained garrisons, and suddenly left the army upon the 16th January. Napoleon, incensed at his conduct, announced his departure, and the substitution of Eugene, the Viceroy of Italy, in the general command of the army, with this note of censure:—"The viceroy is more accustomed to the management of military affairs on a large scale, and besides, enjoys the full confidence of the Emperor."[247] This oblique sarcasm greatly increased the coldness betwixt the two brothers-in-law.[248]

Meantime, the Russians continued to advance without opposition into Prussia, being desirous, by their presence, to bring that country to the decision which they had long expected. The manner in which Prussia had been treated by France; the extreme contributions which had been levied from her; the threats which had been held out of altogether annihilating her as a state; the occupation of her fortresses, and the depriving her of all the rights of independence, constituted an abuse of the rights of conquest, exercised in consequence of superior force, which was sure to be ended so soon as that force ceased to be predominant. Napoleon, it is true, had the affectation to express confidence in the friendship of Prussia in his adversity, which he had never cultivated in prosperity. It would have been as reasonable in the patron of a Turkish cruiser, to expect his galley-slaves to continue, out of a point of honour, to pull the oars, after the chain was broken which fettered them to their benches.

Accordingly, King Frederick took his measures to shake himself free of the French yoke; but he did so with wisdom and moderation. Whatever wrongs the Prussians had sustained from the French, the King of Prussia had sought no means of avenging them, even when routed armies, falling back on his dominions in a defenceless condition, might have been destroyed, in their desolate state, by his peasantry alone. Popular violence, arising from the resentment of long-suffered injuries, did indeed practise cruelties on the French at KÖnigsberg and elsewhere; but it was against the will of the government, which suppressed them as much as possible. The King did not take any measures to intercept the retreat even of Napoleon himself, although there was ground to expect he might have come to that resolution. He renewed the armistice concluded by D'Yorck; he suffered the distressed and frozen remains of the grand army to augment the hostile garrisons which had occupied his own strongest fortresses. He observed, in short, all the duties of an ally, though an unwilling one, until the war, in which he was engaged as an auxiliary, was totally ended, by the defeat and dispersion of the army of his principal. It is the more proper to enter at large into this topic, because the French historians usually mention the conduct of the King of Prussia on this occasion as defection, desertion, or some such word, indicating a breach of faith. Nothing can be more unjust.

It was not, surely, to be expected, that Frederick was to submit his own dominions to the devastation of the Russians, by continuing a war in which his share was only secondary; nor was it rational to believe, that a country so much oppressed would neglect the means of emancipation which now presented themselves. It is, therefore, no marvel that Prussia should have taken this favourable opportunity for throwing off a yoke which she had found so oppressive. Nay, it is believed, on good grounds, that the course adopted by the King of Prussia was not only that of wisdom and patriotism, but even of necessity; for it is very probable, that, if he had refused to lead his subjects against the French, they might, in that moment of excitation, have found some one else to have placed at the head of the government. He had, as we have already said, denounced the convention entered into by D'Yorck and Massenbach, and ordered them both to Berlin for the purpose of undergoing trial. But the generals had remained quietly in command of their troops, affording a strong example, that, had Frederick laboured ever so much for that purpose, it would have been vain, if not hazardous, to have opposed his royal authority to the impulse of the national spirit.

Before the King took his final resolution, he resolved, as a measure of prudence, to secure his own person, lest, like Ferdinand and the Spanish Bourbons, he should be seized upon as a hostage. He therefore suddenly left Berlin on 22d January, 1813, and betook himself to Breslau,[249] where there were no French soldiery. Immediately afterwards he published an address to his people, calling his armies together, and giving the signal to the patriotism of thousands who longed to arise in arms. The French ambassador was, nevertheless, invited to follow the King to Breslau, where a variety of discussions immediately took place betwixt him and the Prussian cabinet.

To the complaints of exactions and oppressions of every kind, the French negotiators could only reply by reminding the Prussians, that Napoleon had, after decisive victory, suffered the nation to retain the name of independence, and the King to wear a precarious crown. A robber would have the same defence against restoring the booty he had acquired from a traveller, if he stated, that though he had despoiled, he had not murdered him. It was by the right of the strongest that France had acquired that influence over Prussia which she exercised so severely; and, according to the dictates of common sense and human nature, when the advantage was on Prussia's side, she had a right to regain by strength what she had lost by weakness. Every obligation, according to the maxim of the civil law, is made void in the same manner in which it is rendered binding; as Arthegal, the emblematic champion of justice in Spenser's allegory, decrees as law, that what the sea has brought the sea may resume.

On the 1st of March, or about that period, Prussia, returning to a system which nothing but the extremity of her circumstances had ever interrupted, signed a treaty of alliance, offensive and defensive, with Russia. On the 15th March, the Emperor Alexander arrived at Breslau. The meeting was affecting betwixt the two sovereigns, who had been such intimate friends, and had always retained the same personal attachment for each other, although the circumstances of controlling necessity had made them enemies, at a period when it was of importance to Russia to have as few foes as possible thrown into the scale against her. The King of Prussia wept. "Courage, my brother," said Alexander; "these are the last tears which Napoleon shall cause you to shed."

On the 16th March, Prussia declared war against France. There is, in the paper containing this denunciation, much reasoning respecting the extent of contributions due and received, which might have been summed up in the declaration, that "France had made Prussia her subject and her slave, but that now Prussia was enabled to act for herself, and shake off the fetters which violence had imposed on her." This real note was touched where the manifesto declares, that, "Abandoned to herself, and hopeless of receiving any effectual succour from an ally who had declined to render her even the demands of justice, Prussia must take counsel of herself, in order to raise anew and support her existence as a nation. It was in the love and courage of his people that the King sought means to extricate himself, and to restore to his monarchy the independence which is necessary to ensure the future prosperity of the kingdom."

The Emperor Napoleon received that declaration of war, with the calmness of one by whom it had been for some time expected. "It was better," he said, "to have a declared enemy than a doubtful ally."[250] By the Prussians at large it was heard with all the rapture of gratified hope, and the sacrifices which they made, not willingly only, but eagerly, show more completely than any thing else can, the general hatred against France, and the feelings which that nation had excited during her career of success.

From a country so trampled down and exhausted as Prussia, it might have been thought slender means of warfare could be provided. But vengeance is like the teeth of the dragon, a seed which, wherever sown, produces a crop of warriors. Freedom too, was at stake; and when a nation is warring for its own rights, who shall place a limit to its exertions? Some preparation had been made by the monarch. The jealousy of France had limited the exercise of the Prussian militia to 25,000 men yearly. But the government had contrived to double this amount, by calling out the militia twice in the year, and training on the second occasion the same number, but different individuals from those who had been first summoned. Thus, a certain portion of discipline had become general among the Prussian youth, and, incited by the desire of their country's freedom, they rushed to battle against France as to a holy warfare. The means of providing artillery had also been sedulously augmented. This was not to be a war of posts or fortresses, but of fields of battle and of bayonets. Many, therefore, of the brass pieces of ordnance, which garnished the walls of such towns and fortresses as were yet unoccupied by the French, had been recast, and converted into field-pieces. Money was scarce, but England was liberal; and besides, the Prussian nobles and burgesses taxed themselves to the uttermost. Even the ladies gave up their diamonds and gold ornaments, for chains and bracelets beautifully wrought out of iron, the state enjoying the advantage of the exchange. In a future age, these relics, when found in the female casket, will be more valuable than the richest Indian jewels.

Meanwhile the resentment and desire of revenge, which had so long smouldered in the bosoms of the Prussians, broke forth with the force of a volcano. The youth of every description rushed to fill the ranks, the distinctions of birth were forgotten, nay, in a great measure abolished; no question was asked of the Prussian, but whether he was able and willing to assist in the liberation of his country. The students, the cultivation of whose minds generally adds to their feeling for national freedom and national honour, arrayed themselves into battalions and squadrons. Some formed the Black Bands, who at this time distinguished themselves; others assumed the arms and dress of the Cossacks, whose name had become so terrible to the French. In general, these volunteers were formed into mounted and dismounted squadrons of chasseurs, whose appearance differed from that of the line only in their uniform being dark green instead of blue. Their discipline, formed on a system devised by Scharnhorst, was admirably calculated to give fresh levies the degree of training and discipline necessary to render them serviceable, without pretending to give them the accuracy in details which experience alone can teach.

In a few weeks numerous armies were on foot, and Prussia, like a strong man rousing himself from slumber, stepped forward to assume her rank among independent nations. There could not be a greater contrast than between the same nation in her hour of presumption, her period of depression, and her present form of regeneration. To the battle of Jena the Prussians had marched as to an assured conquest, with a splendid army, well disposed, and admirably appointed, but conducted with that negligence which is inspired by a presumptuous degree of confidence, and that pride which goes before destruction. In the campaign of 1812, the Black Eagles stooping their dishonoured crests beneath those of France, they went a discouraged and reluctant band of auxiliaries, to assist in the destruction of that power, whose subjugation they were well aware must lead to their own irretrievable bondage. And now, such was the change of a few weeks, nay, not many days, that Prussia again entered the lists with an army, still deficient in its material provisions, but composed of soldiers whose hearts were in the trim, whom misfortunes had taught caution, and oppression had roused to resistance; who knew, by melancholy experience, the strength of their powerful adversary, but were not the less disposed to trust in their own good swords and good cause.

A leader was selected, admirably formed by nature to command a national army at such a crisis. This was the celebrated Blucher, one of the few Prussian generals, who, even after the battle of Jena, continued to maintain the fame of the Great Frederick, under whom he had been trained, and to fight until every ray of hope had been entirely destroyed. This high-spirited and patriotic officer had remained in obscurity during the long period of the French domination. He was one of those ardent and inflexible characters that were dreaded by Napoleon, whose generosity, however it might display itself otherwise, was seldom observed to forgive those who had shown a steady and conscientious opposition to his power. Such men he held his enemies in every sense, personal as well as political; and, watched closely by the police, their safety could only be ensured by living strictly retired. But now the old warrior sprang eagerly from his obscure retreat, as in the ancient Roman shows a lion might have leaped from his dark den into the arena of the crowded amphitheatre, on which he was soon to act his terrible part. Blucher, was, indeed, by character and disposition, the very man whom the exigence and the Prussian nation required to support a national war. He was not possessed of war as a science, nor skilled in planning out the objects of a campaign. Scharnhorst, and after him Gneisnau, were intrusted with that part of the general's duty, as being completely acquainted with strategie; but in the field of battle no man possessed the confidence of his soldiers so completely as General Blucher. The first to advance, the last to retreat, he was seldom too much elated by victory, and never depressed by bad success. Defeated to-day, he was as ready to renew the battle to-morrow. In his army was no instance of whole divisions throwing down their arms, because they conceived their line broken or their flank turned. It was his system, that the greater part of fighting consists in taking and giving hard blows, and on all occasions he presented himself with a good grace to the bloody exercise. He was vigilant, too, as taught by the exercise of his youth in the light cavalry; and so enterprising and active, that Napoleon was heard to complain, with his accustomed sneer, that "he had more trouble from that old dissipated hussar, than from all the generals of the allies beside." Deeply resenting the injuries of his country, and his own exile, Blucher's whole soul was in the war against France and her Ruler; and utterly devoid of the milder feelings of modern military leaders, he entered into hostilities with the embittered and personal animosity which Hannibal entertained of old against the Roman name and nation.[251]

Such were the character and energies of the veteran to whom Prussia now confided the defence of her dearest rights, the leading of her youth, and the care of her freedom.[252]

Sweden, or, we ought rather to say, the Crown Prince, had joined the confederacy, as already mentioned, and the spleen of Buonaparte, personal as well as public, had been directed even more against him than against the King of Prussia. The latter was represented as a rebellious and ungrateful vassal, the first as a refugee Frenchman who had renounced his country.

The last accusation, so grossly urged, was, if possible, more unreasonably unjust than the first. The ties of our native country, strict and intimate as they are, may be dissolved in more ways than one. Its lawful government may be overthrown, and the faithful subjects of that government, exiled to foreign countries for their adherence to it, may lawfully bear arms, which, in that case, are not directed against the home of their fathers, but against the band of thieves and robbers by which it is temporarily occupied. If this is not the case, what are we to think of the Revolution of 1688, and the invasion of King William? In like manner, it is possible for a native of France or Britain so to link himself with another country, as to transfer to it the devotion which, in the general case, is only due to the land of his birth. In becoming the heir of the crown of Sweden, Bernadotte had become in fact a Swede; for no one, circumstanced as he was, is entitled, in interweaving his personal fortunes with the fate of the nation which adopts him, to make a reserve of any case in which he can be called to desert their interest for that of another country, though originally his own.

In assuming a French general for their Crown Prince, Sweden no doubt intended to give a pledge that she meant to remain on terms of amity with France; but it would be a wide step to argue from thence that it was her purpose to subject herself as a conquered province to that empire, and to hold the prince whom she had chosen to be no better than the lieutenant of Napoleon. This was indeed the construction which the French Emperor put upon the kingdoms of his own creation—Holland, Westphalia, Spain, and so forth. But in these countries the crowns were at least of his conferring. That of Sweden, on the other hand, was given by the Diet at Orebro, representing the Swedish people, to a person of their own election; nor had Buonaparte any thing to do in it farther, than by consenting that a French subject should become King of Sweden; which consent, if available for any thing, must be certainly held as releasing Bernadotte from every engagement to France, inconsistent with the duties of a sovereign to an independent kingdom.

When, therefore, at a period only a few months afterwards, Napoleon authorised piracies upon the Swedish commerce, and seized, with armed hand, upon the only portion of the Swedish territories which lay within his grasp, nothing could be more unreasonable than to require, that because the Crown Prince was born in Bearn, he should therefore submit to have war made upon him in his capacity of King of Sweden, without making all the resistance in his power. Supposing, what might easily have chanced, that Corsica had remained a constituent part of the British dominions, it would have been ridiculous to have considered Napoleon, when at the head of the French government, as bound by the duties of a liege subject of George III., simply because he was born at Ajaccio. Yet there is no difference betwixt the cases, excepting in the relative size and importance of France and Corsica; a circumstance which can have no influence upon the nature of the obligations incurred by those who are born in the two countries.

It may be readily granted, that a person in the situation of the Crown Prince must suffer as a man of feeling, when opposed to the ranks of his own countrymen. So must a judge, if unhappily called upon to sit in judgment and pronounce sentence upon a brother, or other near relation. In both cases, public duty must take place of private or personal sentiment.

While the powers of the North formed this coalition, upon terms better concerted, and with forces of a different character from those which had existed upon former less fortunate occasions, Austria looked upon the approaching strife with a hesitating and doubtful eye. Her regard for a sovereign allied to her royal family by so close a tie as Napoleon, had not prevented her cabinet from feeling alarm at the overgrown power of France, and the ambition of her ruler. She had reluctantly contributed an auxiliary force to the assistance of France in the last campaign, and had taken the posture of a neutral so soon as circumstances permitted. The restoration of independence to the world must restore to Austria the provinces which she had lost, especially Illyria and the Tyrol, and at the same time her influence both in Italy and Germany. But this might be obtained from Napoleon disabled, and willing to purchase his ransom from the reprisals of allied Europe, by surrender of his pretensions to universal monarchy; and Austria therefore concluded it best to assume the office of mediator betwixt France and the allies, reserving to herself to throw her sword into the scales, in case the forces and ambition of Napoleon should again predominate; while, on the other hand, should peace be restored by a treaty formed under her auspices, she would at once protect the son-in-law of her Emperor, regain her lost provinces and decayed influence, and contribute, by destroying the arrogant pretensions of France, to the return of tranquillity to Europe.

Otto, the French minister at Vienna, could already see in the Austrian administration a disposition to revive the ancient claims which had been annulled by the victories of Napoleon, and wrote to his court, even in the beginning of January, that they were already making a merit of not instantly declaring war against France. A mission of General Bubna to Paris put a more favourable character upon the interference of the Austrian ministers. He informed the French Cabinet that the Emperor Francis was about to treat with France as a good ally, providing Austria was permitted also to treat with others as an independent nation.[253]

It was in short the object of Austria, besides recovering her own losses (of which that cabinet, constantly tenacious of its objects, as it is well known to be, had never lost sight,) to restore, as far as possible, some equilibrium of power, by which the other states, of which the European republic was composed, might become, as formerly, guarantees for the freedom and independence of each other. Such was not the system of Napoleon. He would gladly gratify any state who assisted him in hostilities against and the destruction of another, with a handsome share of the spoil; but it was contrary to his policy to allow any one a protecting veto in behalf of a neutral power. It was according to his system, in the present case, to open to Austria his determination to destroy Prussia entirely, and to assure her of Silesia as her share of the booty, if she would be his ally in the war. But he found, to his surprise, that Austria had adopted a different idea of policy, and that she rather saw her interest in supporting the weak against the strong, than, while grasping at selfish objects, in winking at the engrossing ambition of the ruler of France. Neither did he leave the Austrian Cabinet long in the belief, that his losses had in any degree lowered his lofty pretensions, or induced him to descend from the high claims which he had formed of universal sovereignty. From his declarations to the Senate and Representative Body of France, one of two things was plain; either that no sense of past misfortunes, or fear of those which might arrive, would be of any avail to induce him to abandon the most unjustifiable of his usurpations, the most unreasonable of his pretensions; or else that he was determined to have his armed force re-established, and his sword once more in his hand; nay, that he had settled that a victory or two should wash out the memory of his retreat from Moscow, before he would enter into any treaty of pacification.

The notes in the Moniteur, during this winter of 1812-13, which were always written by himself, contained Buonaparte's bold defiance to Europe, and avowed his intention to maintain, abreast of each other, the two wars of Spain and Germany. He proposed at once to open the campaign in Germany (though he had lost the alliance both of Prussia and Austria,) with an army of double the amount of that which marched against Russia, and to reinforce and keep up the armies of Spain at their complete establishment of 300,000 men. "If any one desired," he said, "the price at which he was willing to grant peace, it had been expressed in the Duke of Bassano's letter to Lord Castlereagh, before commencement of the campaign of 1812."[254]

When that document is referred to, it will be found to contain no cession whatever on the part of France, but a proposal that England should yield up Spain (now almost liberated,) to his brother Joseph, with the admission that Portugal and Sicily, none of which kingdoms Napoleon had the means of making a serious impression upon, might remain to their legitimate sovereigns. In other words, he would desist from pretensions which he had no means to make good, on condition that every point, which was yet doubtful, should be conceded in his favour.

It was extravagant to suppose that Britain, after the destruction occasioned by the Russian retreat, would accept terms which were refused when Napoleon was at the head of his fine army, and in the full hope of conquests. When, therefore, Austria offered herself as a mediator at the court of St. James's, the English ministers contented themselves with pointing out the extravagant pretensions expressed by France, in documents understood to be authentic, and demanding that these should be disavowed, and some concessions made or promised by Napoleon, ere they would hamper themselves by any approach to a treaty.

Upon the whole, it was clear, that the fate of the world was once more committed to the chance of war, and that probably much more human blood must be spilled, ere any principles could be settled, on which a general pacification might be grounded.

A step of state policy was adopted by Napoleon, obviously to conciliate his father-in-law, the Austrian Emperor. A regency was established during his absence, and the Empress, Maria Louisa, was named regent. But her authority was curtailed of all real or effectual power; for he reserved to himself exclusively the privilege of presenting all decrees to be passed by the Senate, and the Empress had only the right to preside in that body.[255]