After the treaty of Presburg the Archduke Charles, in paying off the Austrian troops, said to them, “Go and rest yourselves until we begin again.” Even at that early date the European powers were acting upon the fixed principle that the war against France was not to cease till she had been forced back into her ancient limits. No matter what battles might be fought, treaties made, and territories yielded, the one thing upon which England, Austria, and Russia were agreed, was that Napoleon must be crushed. He represented the New Order brought forth by the Revolution. He represented liberalism, civil and religious freedom, and progress in its modern sense of giving to every man a chance in life. Such principles were destructive to the repose of Europe, and the ruling classes in Europe were deeply attached to this repose. England’s ruling class, supported in lordly preËminence by the patient millions below them, wanted no levelling tendencies to invade her caste-ridden isles. Germany, whose nobles and landowners clung to all the privileges and barbarities of feudalism, abhorred the Code NapolÉon, and the democratic germs of the Napoleonic system. Russia, almost as benighted as Persia or Turkey, dreaded a trend of events which meant freedom for the serf and civil rights for the common people. The nobleman in Russia, the peer of Great Britain, the petty lord in Germany, was at heart one and the same man. He had been born to wealth, privilege, and power; he meant to keep what birth had given him, and he meant to pass it on to his son, “forever in fee simple.” Of course he explained that God had ordained it so. And what the nobleman asserted, the priest maintained. If Napoleon foresaw that as Consul war would be made upon him continually by the opposing systems of Europe, how much less hope was there for peace now, when he had begun to shatter the ancient feudalisms?

Let crimination and recrimination exhaust itself, let Thiers write bulky volumes in Napoleon’s favor, while Lanfrey and Baring-Gould print heavy pamphlets against him, the truth lies here:—

Napoleon represented principles which were considered ruinous to the Old Order in Europe, and the beneficiaries of that Old Order were determined not to surrender without a desperate fight. Just as the Old Order in France resisted all efforts at reform, so on a wider field the kings and aristocracies of Europe resisted Napoleon. They could not believe themselves safe while he was aggressive and triumphant. Therefore, while Austria might bow to the storm, while the Emperor Francis might come to Napoleon’s tent, pleading for mercy, and get it, the true sentiment of Austria was voiced by the Archduke Charles, when he said to the troops, “Go rest yourselves, my children, till we begin again.” It was only a question of time and opportunity when they would begin again.

Prussia had been one of the first nations to arm against revolutionary France. Lugged in by Austria, she had published the famous proclamation of Brunswick, had invaded France, and had been beaten back at Valmy. In due time Prussia had become disgusted with the French royalists—tired of a contest in which, gaining no glory, she lost men, money, and prestige. She had made peace with the Republic, and had become honestly neutral. Harmonious relations had continued to exist between the two nations until the rupture of the Peace of Amiens. England had then done her utmost to draw Prussia into the third Coalition, but had not quite succeeded. In the grand strategy leading to the climax at Ulm, it had become necessary to march some French troops through Anspach, a Prussian province. This violation of his territory gave great offence to the young King Frederick William IV., and he threatened war.

Napoleon’s crushing blows on Austria intimidated Prussia and made her hesitate; but when the French risked themselves in Moravia, and the outlook for Napoleon began to grow gloomy, Prussia sent him her minister, Haugwitz, bearing an ultimatum. Napoleon realized his peril, postponed immediate action, and fought the battle of Austerlitz. His victory released him from danger, and Haugwitz, forgetting his ultimatum, poured forth congratulations. Napoleon heard them with a sardonic amusement he did not conceal, bluntly declaring that Austerlitz had changed the Prussian tone.

When the Confederation of the Rhine was about to be formed, Napoleon, by the treaty of Vienna, ceded Hanover to Prussia partly in return for Anspach and Bayreuth. Hanover being the personal domain of the King of England, its cession to Prussia was a fair guarantee against Prussian and English coÖperation. That he gave so rich a bribe to Prussia proves his earnestness in seeking her friendship. Those who criticise Napoleon’s politics, dwell on his imprudence in not separating England from the Continent. The critics say that he ought to have known that he was not strong enough to combat combined Europe. The probabilities are that Napoleon understood the situation quite as well as those divines and college professors who now criticise him. How was he to get Continental Europe on his side save by force of arms? Had he not tried treaties with Naples and Austria? Had he not exhausted conciliation with Russia and Prussia? In what way was he to cripple England if not by shutting her out of the Continent, and how could he do that without using force? His navy was gone; England had rejected his repeated overtures for peace; her gold bribed European diplomats and cabinets to wage war upon him: how was he to deal with armies hurled against him if he did not fight them? Unite the Continent against England! That was precisely what he was trying to do, and England knew it. Hence her bribes, hence successive wars. Ever and ever it was Napoleon’s hope to win his way to a Continental league against England, forcing her to peace, and to the terms she had made at Amiens.

The inherent antagonism of the European monarchs to Napoleon was shown when the Czar visited Berlin in 1805, and at the tomb of Frederick the Great vowed alliance and friendship to the Prussian king.

In 1806 that pledge was solemnly repeated, the Czar and the King having broken it a good deal in the interval. Whether the last oath would amount to more than the first, would depend upon circumstances; but the formal act proved at least how instinctive and vehement was their antagonism to Napoleon. After Mr. Pitt’s death, Fox succeeded him in the ministry, and almost immediately Napoleon again made overtures for peace. There was much less hope of it now, for the situation had greatly changed. Passions on both sides the Channel were at white heat, territorial distributions had been made which it would be difficult to unmake, and Fox, as a known friend of Napoleon, might find himself unable to make concessions which Pitt could safely have offered.

Of course, England would demand that Hanover be restored; Malta, she would certainly keep. In the temper which the newspapers had created in England, no minister would have dared now to surrender that island. But still peace was possible. Equivalents for Malta might be arranged. As to Hanover, Napoleon might take it from Prussia, giving her something just as good in exchange. The negotiations were set on foot, through Lord Yarmouth, one of the Englishmen who had been held in France at the beginning of the war. When Prussia learned that Napoleon was using Hanover as a bait to England, her smothered ill-will burst into flames. Violent talk, violent pamphlets, broke out in Prussia, and Davoust intensified matters by having Palm, the bookseller of Naumberg, shot, because he had circulated incendiary documents against the French.

The war feeling rose irresistibly. Even had the King been inclined to oppose it, he could not have done so. His Queen, his army chiefs, his nobles, his troops, his people—they all clamored for war.

The young officers at Berlin whetted their swords on the steps of the French embassy, and broke the windows of Prussian ministers who favored peace. Napoleon was at Paris when the news came that the Prussian hotheads had been sharpening their blades in front of his embassy. His hand went to his sword-hilt: “They will learn that our swords need no whetting—the insolent braggarts!”

So confident were the Prussians, so impatient were they to hurl themselves into the struggle, that they would not wait for Russian aid. Apparently they feared that Prussia might have to divide the glory. Was not theirs the army of Frederick the Great? Was not their cavalry the finest in Europe? Had not General RÜchel announced on parade that the army of his Majesty of Prussia possessed several commanders who were the equals of Bonaparte? Why await Russia? The delay would put Napoleon on his guard. At present he was unsuspicious of immediate attack. Prussian diplomats had lulled him with assurances that their preparations were a mere pretence. There were a few scattered French forces in Bavaria; Prussia could hurl her two hundred thousand veterans upon Saxony, absorb the Saxon forces, and brush the French out of Germany before Napoleon could help himself. So thought the Prussian war party, at the head of which was the Queen and Prince Louis, brother of the King. On horseback, clad in uniform, Queen Louisa appeared at the head of the army, fanning the war fever into flames. Prince Louis took high command for active service, and the old Duke of Brunswick (he of the famous manifesto of 1792 and of Valmy) tottered forth under the weight of his fourscore years to suggest bold plans which he lacked the vigor to prosecute. While Prussian cohorts were mustering and marching upon Saxony, the Prussian ambassador in Paris was still playing a confidence game on Napoleon. At last Prussia launched an ultimatum giving the Emperor of the French until October 8 to save himself by submission. The Prussian army, one hundred and thirty thousand strong, concentrated near Jena; the French seemed at their mercy, the chief dispute among the Prussian commanders being whether they should wait till after the date fixed by the ultimatum to pass the Thuringian Forest and attack the enemy. When the ultimatum reached Paris, Napoleon was gone, was on the Rhine, was ready to launch two hundred thousand men upon the now amazed and bewildered Prussians. The great Emperor had not for a moment been deceived. All the time that he had been listening with placid face to the lies of the Prussian diplomat, he had been massing troops where they were needed. When the courier caught up with him and delivered the ultimatum, he laughed at it. With masterly speed he threw himself upon the Prussian flank and rear. Prussia had repeated the mistake of Austria; her losses were even more ruinous. Prince Louis, attacking Lannes at Saalfeld (October 10), was routed and killed.

When Napoleon reached Jena with his main army of ninety thousand men, he supposed that the bulk of the Prussians were before him. Cautious as ever, he sought the advantage of position, and secured it. A Saxon parson showed him a secret path to the heights commanding the Prussian position, and during the night this path was made practicable for artillery. When day dawned (October 14, 1806), the unequal battle commenced, the French outnumbering the enemy two to one. Hohenlohe, the Prussian commander, was almost annihilated, the remnants of his army fleeing in wild disorder. At the same time Davoust with twenty-seven thousand French fought the main Prussian force, about double his own, at AuerstÄdt. Badly commanded by the Duke of Brunswick and the King of Prussia, the Germans fought with desperate valor, but were utterly beaten. Broken and driven, they fled from the field, making for Weimar, and ran into the masses of fugitives who were flying from the field of Jena. Murat’s dreaded cavalry were in hot pursuit, and a scene of the wildest confusion followed. To the beaten army all hope was lost. There was no fixed line of retreat, no rallying-point, no master-mind in control. In hopeless fragments the fugitive host fell apart, and the relentless pursuit was never slackened until the last one of these bands had been captured. With incredible ease and rapidity the Prussian monarchy had been brought to the dust.