While Josephine and Hortense were weeping, Napoleon was bringing a terrible campaign to a brilliant end. June 15 he thus announced to his wife the great victory of Friedland: "My dear: I write but a word, for I am very tired; I have been bivouacking for several days. My children have been worthily celebrating the battle of Marengo. The battle of Friedland will be quite as famous and glorious for my people. The whole Russian army routed; eighty cannon; thirty thousand men captured or killed; twenty-five Russian generals killed, wounded, or captured; the Russian Guard wiped out; it is a worthy sister of Marengo, Austerlitz, Jena. The bulletin will tell you the rest. My losses are not serious; I succeeded in outmanoeuvring the enemy. Be calm and contented. Good by, my dear, my horse is waiting." The next day he wrote another letter to Josephine: "My dear, yesterday I sent Moustache to you with news of the battle of Friedland. Since then, I have continued to pursue the enemy, Königsberg, a city of eighty thousand inhabitants, Is in my power, I have found there many cannon, stores, and finally sixty thousand muskets just come from England. Good by, my dear, my health is perfect, although I have a cold from the rain and cold of the bivouac. Be cheerful and contented. Ever yours." From Tilsitt Napoleon wrote to his wife, June 19: "I have sent Tascher to you to allay your anxiety. Everything goes on admirably here. The battle of Friedland decided everything. The enemy is confounded, cast down, and extremely enfeebled. My health is excellent, my army superb. Good by; be cheerful and contented." Be cheerful and contented—he was always saying it.
June 25, at one in the afternoon, a great sight was to be seen in the middle of the Niemen. A raft had been placed midstream in plain view from both banks of the river. All the rich stuffs that could be found in the little town of Tilsitt had been taken to make a pavilion on a part of this raft for the reception of the Emperors of France and Russia. From one bank Napoleon embarked with Murat, Berthier, Bessières, Duroc, and Caulaincourt; and from the other, Alexander, with the Grand Duke Constantine, Generals Bennigsen and Ouvaroff, the Prince of Labanoff, and the Count of Lieven. The two armies were drawn up on the two banks, and the country people of the neighborhood were present to watch one of the most memorable interviews known to history. When they reached the raft, the two sovereigns, who had just been fighting so bitterly, and had sent so many thousand men to death, fell into each other's arms with emotion. The same day Napoleon wrote to Josephine: "I have just seen the Emperor Alexander, and am much pleased with him; he is a very fine-looking, good young Emperor; he has more intelligence than is generally supposed. He is going to move into Tilsitt to-morrow. Good by; keep well and be contented. My health is excellent." The two monarchs became very intimate. "My dear," Napoleon wrote to his wife July 3, "M. de Turenne will give you all the details about what is going on here; everything is moving smoothly. I think I told you that the Emperor of Russia drank to your health with great kindness. He and the King of Prussia dine with me every day. I want you to be contented. Good by; much love." And July 6: "I have yours of June 25. I am sorry you are so egoistic, and that my success gives you no pleasure. The beautiful Queen of Prussia is to dine with me to-day. I am well and anxious to see you again when fate permits. Still it will probably be soon."
The Queen of Prussia was one of the most beautiful and most brilliant women of her time. An hour after her arrival at Tilsitt, Napoleon called on her, and that evening, when she came to dine with him, he went to the door of the house in which he lived to receive her with all respect. But in spite of all her efforts to modify the conditions of the peace imposed on Prussia, her gracious and obstinate endeavors were fruitless. Napoleon, July 7, thus described to Josephine the dinner of the evening before to the charming Queen: "My dear, the Queen of Prussia dined with me yesterday. I was obliged to refuse her some concessions she wanted me to make to her husband; but I was polite, and also kept to my plan. She is very amiable. When I see you I will give you all the details which would be too long to write now. When you read this letter, peace will have been concluded with Russia and Prussia, and Jerome will have been recognized as King of Westphalia with a population of three millions. This piece of news is for you alone. Good by, my dear; I want to hear that you are contented and cheerful." The story runs that the Queen of Prussia, who held a beautiful rose in her hand, offered it to Napoleon, saying with a gracious smile: "Take it, Sire, but in exchange for Magdeburg." The hero of Jena made a mistake not to make the exchange. He did too much or too little for the Prussian monarchy. Since he could not or would not wipe it out, he ought to have let it live, and become a friendly power. Who can tell? Perhaps his acceptance of the rose would have warded off many acts of vengeance, many disasters. On such slight things does the world's destiny depend!
Josephine wrote to her daughter from Saint Cloud, July 10: "I often hear from the Emperor, who speaks a great deal about the Emperor Alexander, with whom he seems well satisfied. He sent M. de Monaco and M. de Montesquiou to give me details of all they had seen. They say the first view was a magnificent sight. The two armies were on the two banks of the Niemen. The Emperor was the first to arrive at a raft built in the middle of the river; the Emperor Alexander's boat found some difficulty in approaching, which gave him a chance to speak of his eagerness thwarted by the stream. They tell me that when the two Emperors kissed, wide-spread applause arose from both banks. What most interests me in all this good news is my hope of soon seeing the Emperor again. Why is this happiness troubled by sad memories that can never be destroyed? Your boy is perfectly-well; his complexion has entirely changed. I hope the waters will do both you and the King good; remember me to him, and believe in my constant love."
Before leaving Tilsitt, where he had signed a glorious peace, Napoleon had the bravest soldier of the Russian Guard presented to him, and he gave him the eagle of the Legion of Honor. He gave his portrait to Platou, the hetman of the Cossacks, and some Baschirs gave him a concert after the custom of their country. July 9, at eleven in the morning, wearing the grand cordon of Saint Andrew, he called on the Emperor Alexander, who wore the broad ribbon of the Legion of Honor, The two sovereigns passed three hours together, then mounted their horses, and rode towards the Niemen. Then they got down and embraced for the last time. The Czar then embarked, and Napoleon waited on the river-bank until his new friend had landed on the other shore. He returned to Königsberg and from there to Dresden, whence he wrote to Josephine, July, 18: "My dear, I reached here yesterday afternoon at five, very well, though I had been posting one hundred hours without stopping. I am staying with the King of Saxony, whom I like very much. I have more than half my journey to you behind me. I warn you that I may burst in on you at Saint Cloud one of these nights, like a jealous husband. Good by, my dear; I shall be very glad to see you again. Ever yours." Napoleon spoke of jealousy. The days of the first Italian campaign were very distant. Everything had changed. It was no longer he who had to be jealous of Josephine: it was Josephine who was jealous of him, and with good reason. After an absence of nearly a year, the Emperor reached Saint Cloud, July 27, 1807, at six o'clock in the morning.
XXIV.
THE EMPEROR'S RETURN.
July 28, 1807, the Emperor, who had arrived at Saint Cloud the day before, received the great bodies of the State. It would be hard to form an exact idea of the flatteries addressed to him. Let us quote a few taken at random. M. Séguier, First President of the Court of Appeal, said to the hero of Friedland: "Napoleon is above admiration; only love can rise to him." The Cardinal Archbishop of Paris, speaking in the name of his clergy, was perhaps even more enthusiastic: "The God of armies," he said, "has dictated and directed all your plans; nothing could resist the swiftness of so many wonders…. Have confidence, Sire, in our zeal, and instruct the people in the submission and obedience they owe to all of Your Majesty's decrees and orders." But it was Councillor of State Trochot, Prefect of the Seine, who deserves the prize in this competition of adulation. Here is a fragment of his speech: "Sire, now that at last Paris receives you once more after so long an absence and such prodigious feats, it would gladly express to you all its intense admiration, and yet it can only speak to you of its love. And, indeed, if it tried to contemplate in you the conqueror of so many kings, the law-maker of so many peoples, the controller of so many events, the arbiter of so many destinies, how could it dare to approach Your Majesty, and in what language could it address you? Should it speak to you of triumphs? But can any one but a Caesar himself speak of what Caesar has done? Of glory? but for ten years it has been impossible to speak of all you have won. Of genius? but who can speak of all the marvels yours has wrought, before which we are dumb and confounded. Sire, all these things are beyond us, and since they command admiration, even silence, the silence of astonishment which admiration imposes seems to be our sole manner of expressing it." More had not been said, to Louis XIV., the Sun King.
In allusion to the illuminations in Paris the evening before, the Prefect, of the Seine added: "Why could not you, Sire, have been an eye-witness of the joy which the announcement of Your Majesty's return spread yesterday throughout the capital of your Empire! Why could not you have heard the applause with which your faithful subjects rent the welkin daring the festivity which they gave on this occasion until well into the night!" The Prefect closed by a prophecy, alas! not too accurate: "The august Emperor Napoleon will render war between nations impossible, and the world's happiness will date from his reign."
The hero of Austerlitz, of Jena, of Friedland, then thought nothing impossible. His direct or indirect sway extended from the Straits of Gibraltar to the Vistula, from the mountains of Bohemia to the North Sea. Charlemagne was outstripped. Josephine saw her husband again with joy, but also with anxiety and terror. He returned so infatuated by his wonderful fortune, he was so flattered and deified by his courtiers, in his whole Imperial and royal person there was something so formidable and majestic, that his gentle and timid wife was, as it were, dazzled by the rays of a sun, too brilliant for her to look at.