The Queen was seated at table between the two Emperors, who rivalled each other in gallantry. She was placed near Alexander’s best ear; with one he can scarcely hear at all. The evening came, and, the Queen having retired, the Emperor, who had shown the most engaging attentions to his guests, but, who had at the same time, been often driven to an extremity, resolved to come to a point. He sent for M. de Talleyrand, and Prince Kourakin, talked big to them, and letting fly, continued he, some hard words, observed, that, after all, a woman and a piece of gallantry ought not to alter a system conceived for the destiny of a great people, and that he insisted upon the immediate conclusion of the negociations, and the signing of the treaty; which took place according to his orders. “Thus,” said he, "the Queen of Prussia’s conversation advanced the treaty by a week or a fortnight."
The Queen was preparing to renew her attacks the next day, and was indignant when she heard that the treaty was signed. She wept a great deal, and determined to see the Emperor Napoleon no more. She would not accept a second invitation to dinner. Alexander was himself obliged to prevail upon her. She complained most bitterly, and maintained, that Napoleon had broken his word. But Alexander had been always present. He had even been a dangerous witness, ready to give evidence of the slightest action or word on the part of Napoleon in her favour. “He has made you no promise,” was his observation to her; “if you can prove the contrary, I here pledge myself, as between man and man, to make him keep his promise, and he will do so, I am convinced.”—"But he has given me to understand," said she, ... “No,” replied Alexander, “and you have nothing to reproach him with.” She came at length. Napoleon, who had no longer any occasion to be on his guard against her, redoubled his attentions. She played off, for a few moments, the airs of an offended coquette, and when the dinner was over, and she was about to retire, Napoleon presented his hand, and conducted her to the middle of the staircase, where he stopped. She squeezed his hand, and said with a kind of tenderness; “Is it possible, that after having had the honour of being so near to the hero of the century and of history, he will not leave me the power and satisfaction of being enabled to assure him, that he has attached me to him for life?”—"Madam," replied the Emperor in a serious tone, “I am to be pitied; it is the result of my unhappy stars.” He then took leave of her. When she reached her carriage, she threw herself into it in tears; sent for Duroc, whom she highly esteemed, renewed all her complaints to him, and said, pointing to the palace; “There is a place in which I have been cruelly deceived!”
“The Queen of Prussia,” said the Emperor, “was unquestionably gifted with many happy resources; she possessed a great deal of information and had many excellent capabilities. It was she who really reigned for more than fifteen years. She also, in spite of my dexterity and all my exertions, took the lead in conversation, and constantly maintained the ascendancy. She touched, perhaps, too often upon her favourite topic, but she did so, however, with great plausibility and without giving the slightest cause of uneasiness. It must be confessed that she had an important object in view, and that the time was short and precious.”
“One of the high contracting parties,” said the Emperor, “had frequently assured her, that she ought to have come in the beginning or not at all, and observed that, for his part, he had done every thing in his power to induce her to come at once. It was suspected,” continued the Emperor, “that he had a personal motive to gratify by her coming; but, on the other hand, the husband had a motive equally personal in opposing it.” Napoleon believed him to have been very kind and a sincere friend in the business.
“The king of Prussia,” said the Emperor, "had requested his audience of leave on that very day, but I postponed it for four-and-twenty hours, at the secret entreaty of Alexander. The king of Prussia never forgave me for putting off that audience; so clearly did it seem to him, that Royal Majesty was insulted by my refusal.
“Another heavy charge against me, and of which he has never been able to divest his feelings, was that of having violated, as he said, his territory of Anspach in our campaign of Austerlitz. In all our subsequent interviews, however important the subjects of our discussion, he laid them all aside for the purpose of proving that I had really violated his territory of Anspach. He was wrong; but in short, it was his conviction, and his resentment was that of an honest man. His wife, however, was vexed at it, and wished him to pursue a higher system of politics.”
Napoleon reproached himself with a real fault, in allowing the king of Prussia’s presence at Tilsit. His first determination was to prevent his coming. He would then have been less bound to shew any attention to his interests. He might have kept Silesia, he might have aggrandized Saxony with it, and have probably reserved for himself a different kind of destiny. He further remarked: “I learn, that the politicians of the present day find great fault with my treaty of Tilsit; they have discovered, that I had, by that means, placed Europe at the mercy of the Russians; but if I had succeeded at Moscow, and it is now known how very near I was, they would, no doubt, have admired us for having, on the contrary, by that treaty, placed the Russians at the mercy of Europe. I entertained great designs with respect to the Germans.... But I failed, and therefore I was wrong. This is according to every rule of justice....”
Almost every day, at Tilsit, the two Emperors and the King rode out on horseback together, but, said Napoleon, “the latter was always awkward and unlucky.” The Prussians were visibly mortified by it. Napoleon was constantly between the two sovereigns; but either the King fell behind, or jostled and incommoded Napoleon. He shewed the same awkwardness on their return: the two Emperors dismounted in an instant, and took each other by the hand to go up stairs together. But, as the honours were done by Napoleon, he could not enter without first seeing the King pass. It was sometimes necessary to wait for him a long time, and, as the weather was often rainy, it happened that the two Emperors got wet on the king’s account, to the great dissatisfaction of all the spectators.
“This awkwardness,” said the Emperor, “was the more glaring, as Alexander possesses all the graces, and is equal, in elegance of manners, to the most polished and amiable ornaments of our Parisian drawing-rooms. The latter was at times so tired of his companion, who seemed lost in his own vexations, or in something else, that we mutually agreed on breaking up our common meeting to get rid of him. We separated immediately after dinner, under the pretence of some particular business; but Alexander and I met shortly afterwards, to take tea with one another, and we then continued in conversation until midnight, and even beyond it.”
Alexander and Napoleon met again some time after at Erfurt, and exchanged the most striking testimonies of affection. Alexander expressed with earnestness the sentiments of tender friendship and real admiration which he entertained for Napoleon. They passed some days together in the enjoyment of the charms of perfect intimacy and of the most familiar communications of private life. “We were,” said the Emperor, “two young men of quality, who, in their common pleasures, had no secret from each other.”