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.