The Prussian army was compared to a ship with all sail spread lying at anchor. The duke was posted with the main body not far from Weimar, the Saxons at the Schnecke on the road between Weimar and Jena, the prince of Hohenlohe at Jena. Mack had isolated and exposed his different corps d'armee in an exactly similar manner at Ulm. Hohenlohe again subdivided his corps and scattered them in front of the concentrated forces of the enemy. Still, all was not yet lost, the Prussians being advantageously posted in the upper valley, while the French were advancing along the deep valleys of the Saal and its tributaries. But, on the 13th of October, Tauenzien retired from the vale, leaving the steeps of Jena, which a hundred students had been able to defend simply by rolling down the stones there piled in heaps, open, and, during the same night, Napoleon sent his artillery up and posted himself on the Landgrafenberg. There, nevertheless, still remained a chance; the Dornberg, by which the Landgrafenberg was commanded, was still occupied by Tauenzien, and the Windknollen, a still steeper ascent, whence Hohenlohe, had he not spent the night in undisturbed slumbers at Capellendorf, might utterly have annihilated the French army, remained unoccupied. The thunder of the French artillery first roused Hohenlohe from his couch, and, while he was still under the hands of his barber, Tauenzien was driven from the Dornberg. The duties of the toilet at length concluded, Hohenlohe led his troops up the hillside with a view of retaking the position he had so foolishly lost; but his serried columns were exposed to the destructive fire of a body of French tirailleurs posted above, and were repulsed with immense loss. General Ruchel arrived, with his corps that had been uselessly detached, too late to prevent the flight of the Hohenlohe corps, and, making a brave but senseless attack, was wounded and defeated. A similar fate befell the unfortunate Saxons at the Schnecke and the duke of Brunswick at Auerstädt. The latter, although at the head of the strongest division of the Prussian army, succumbed to the weakest division of the French army, that commanded by Davoust, who henceforward bore the title of duke of Auerstädt, and was so suddenly put to the rout that a body of twenty thousand Prussians under Kalkreuth never came into action. The duke was shot in both eyes. This incident was, by his enemies, termed fortune's revenge, "as he never would see when he had his eyes open."[1]
Napoleon followed up his victory with consummate skill. The junction of the retreating corps d'armee and their flight by the shortest route into Prussia were equally prevented. The defeated Prussian army was in a state of indescribable confusion. An immensely circuitous march lay before it ere Prussia could be re-entered. A number of the regiments disbanded, particularly those whose officers had been the first to take to flight or had crept for shelter behind hedges and walls. An immense number of officers' equipages, provided with mistresses, articles belonging to the toilet, and epicurean delicacies, fell into Napoleon's hands. Wagons laden with poultry, complete kitchens on wheels, wine casks, etc., had followed this luxurious army. The scene presented by the battlefield of Jena widely contrasted with that of Rossbach, whose monument was sent by Napoleon to Paris as the most glorious part of the booty gained by his present easy victory.[2]
The fortified city of Erfurt was garrisoned with fourteen thousand Prussians under Mollendorf, who, on the first summons, capitulated to Murat, the general of the French cavalry. The hereditary Prince of Orange was also taken prisoner on this occasion. Von Hellwig, a lieutenant of the Prussian hussars, boldly charged the French guard escorting the fourteen thousand Prussian prisoners of war from Erfurt, at the head of his squadron, at Eichenrodt in the vicinity of Eisenach, and succeeded in restoring them to liberty. The liberated soldiers, however, instead of joining the main body, dispersed. Eugene, duke of Wurtemberg, was also defeated at Halle, and, throwing up his command, withdrew to his states. History has, nevertheless, recorded one trait of magnanimity, that of a Prussian ensign fifteen years of age, who, being pursued by some French cavalry not far from Halle, sprang with the colors into the Saal and was crushed to death by a mill-wheel.
Kalkreuth's corps, that had not been brought into action and was the only one that remained entire, being placed under the command of the prince of Hohenlohe, its gallant commander, enraged at the indignity, quitted the army. Hohenlohe's demand, on reaching Magdeburg, for a supply of ammunition and forage, was refused by the commandant, Von Kleist, and he hastened helplessly forward in the hope of reaching Berlin, but the route was already blocked by the enemy, and he was compelled to make a fatiguing and circuitous march to the west through the sandy March. Magdeburg, although garrisoned with twenty-two thousand Prussians, defended by eight hundred pieces of artillery and almost impregnable fortifications, capitulated on the 11th of November to Ney, on his appearance beneath the walls with merely ten thousand men and a light field-battery. Kleist, in exculpation of his conduct, alleged his expectation of an insurrection of the citizens in case of a bombardment. Magdeburg contained at that time three thousand unarmed citizens. It is not known whether Kleist had been bribed, or whether he was simply infected with the cowardice and stupidity by which the elder generals of that period were distinguished; it is, however, certain that among the numerous younger officers serving under his command not one raised the slightest opposition to this disgraceful capitulation.[3]
The Hohenlohe corps, which consisted almost exclusively of infantry, was accompanied in its flight by Blucher, the gallant general of the hussars, with the elite of the remaining cavalry. Blucher had, however, long borne a grudge against his pedantic companion, and, mistrusting his guidance, soon quitted him. Being surrounded by a greatly superior French force under Klein,[4] he contrived to escape by asserting with great earnestness to that general that an armistice had just been concluded. When afterward urgently entreated by Hohenlohe to join him with his troops, he procrastinated too long, it may be owing to his desire to bring Hohenlohe, who, by eternally retreating, completely disheartened his troops, to a stand, or owing to the impossibility of coming up with greater celerity.[5] He had, indubitably, the intention to join Hohenlohe at Prenzlow, but unfortunately arrived a day too late, the prince, whose ammunition and provisions were completely spent, and who, owing to the stupidity of Massenbach, who rode up and down the Ucker without being able to discover whether he was on the right or left bank, had missed the only route by which he could retreat, having already fallen, with twelve thousand men, into the enemy's hands. This disaster was shortly afterward followed by the capture of General Hagen with six thousand men at Pasewalk and that of Bila with another small Prussian corps not far from Stettin. Blucher, strengthened by the corps of the duke of Weimar and by numerous fugitives, still kept the field, but was at length driven back to Lubeck, where he was defeated, and, after a bloody battle in the very heart of the terror-stricken city, four thousand of his men were made prisoners. He fled with ten thousand to Radkan, where, finding no ships to transport him across the Baltic, he was forced to capitulate.
The luckless duke of Brunswick was carried on a bier from the field of Jena to his palace at Brunswick, which he found deserted. All belonging to him had fled. In his distress he exclaimed, "I am now about to quit all and am abandoned by all!" His earnest petition to Napoleon for protection for himself and his petty territory was sternly refused by the implacable victor, who replied that he knew of no reigning duke of Brunswick, but only of a Prussian general of that name, who had, in the infamous manifest of 1792, declared his intention to destroy Paris and was undeserving of mercy. The blind old man fled to Ottensen, in the Danish territory, where he expired.
Napoleon, after confiscating sixty millions worth of English goods on his way through Leipzig, entered Berlin on the 17th of October, 1806. The defence of the city had not been even dreamed of; nay, the great arsenal, containing five hundred pieces of artillery and immense stores, the sword of Frederick the Great, and the private correspondence of the reigning king and queen, were all abandoned to the victor.[6] Although the citizens were by no means martially disposed, the authorities deemed it necessary to issue proclamations to the people, inculcatory of the axiom, "Tranquillity is the first duty of the citizen." Napoleon, on his entry into Berlin, was received, not, as at Vienna, with mute rage, but with loud demonstrations of delight. Individuals belonging to the highest class stationed themselves behind the crowd and exclaimed, "For God's sake, give a hearty hurrah! Cry Vive l'empereur! or we are all lost." On a demand, couched in the politest terms, for the peaceable delivery of the arms of the civic guard, being made by Hulin, the new French commandant, to the magistrate, the latter, on his own accord, ordered the citizens to give up their arms "under pain of death." Numerous individuals betrayed the public money and stores, that still remained concealed, to the French. Hulin replied to a person who had discovered a large store of wood, "Leave the wood untouched; your king will want a good deal to make gallows for traitorous rogues." Napoleon's reception struck him with such astonishment that he declared, "I know not whether to rejoice or to feel ashamed." At the head of his general staff, in full uniform and with bared head, he visited the apartment occupied by Frederick the Great at Sans Souci, and his tomb. He took possession of Frederick's sword and declared in the army bulletin, "I would not part with this weapon for twenty millions." Frederick's tomb afforded him an opportunity for giving vent to the most unbecoming expressions of contempt against his unfortunate descendant. He publicly aspersed the fame of the beautiful and noble-hearted Prussian queen, in order to deaden the enthusiasm she sought to raise. But he deceived himself. Calumny but increased the esteem and exalted the enthusiasm with which the people beheld their queen and kindled a feeling of revenge in their bosoms. Napoleon behaved, nevertheless, with generosity to another lady of rank. Prince Hatzfeld, the civil governor of Berlin, not having quitted that city on the entry of Napoleon, had been discovered by the spies and been condemned to death by a court-martial. His wife, who was at that time enceinte, threw herself at Napoleon's feet. With a smile, he handed to her the paper containing the proof of her husband's guilt, which she instantly burned, and her husband was restored to liberty. John Muller was among the more remarkable of the servants of the state who had remained at Berlin. This sentimental parasite, the most despicable of them all, whose pathos sublimely glossed over each fresh treason, was sent for by Napoleon, who placed him about his person. Among other things, he asked him, "Is it not true the Germans are somewhat thick-brained?" to which the fawning professor replied with a smile. In return for the benefits he had received from the royal family of Prussia, he delivered, before quitting Berlin, an academical lecture upon Frederick the Great, in the presence of the French general officers, in which he artfully (the lecture was of course delivered in the French language) contrived to flatter Napoleon at the expense of that monarch.[7] Prince Charles of Isenberg raised, in the very heart of Berlin, a regiment, composed of Prussian deserters, for the service of France.[8]
The Prussian fortresses fell, meanwhile, one after the other, during the end of autumn and during the winter, some from utter inability, on account of their neglected state, to maintain themselves, but the greater part owing to their being commanded by old villains, treacherous and cowardly as the commandant of Magdeburg. The strong fortress of Hameln was in this manner yielded by a Baron von Schöler, Plassenburg by a Baron von Becker, Nimburg on the Weser by a Baron von Dresser, Spandau by a Count von Benkendorf. The citadel of Berlin capitulated without a blow, and Stettin, although well provided with all the materiel of war, was delivered up by a Baron von Romberg. Custrin, one of the strongest fortified places, was commanded by a Count von Ingersleben. The king visited the place during his flight and earnestly recommended him to defend it to the last. This place, sooner than yield, had, during the seven years' war, allowed itself to be reduced to a heap of ruins. When standing on one of the bastions, the king inquired its name. The commandant was ignorant of it. Scarcely had the king quitted the place, than a body of French huzzars appeared before the gates, and Ingersleben instantly capitulated.
Silesia, although less demoralized than Berlin, viewed these political changes with even greater apathy. This fine province had, during the reign of Frederick the Great, been placed under the government of the minister, Count Hoym, whose easy disposition had, like insidious poison, utterly enervated the people. The government officers, as if persuaded of the reality of the antiquarian whim which deduced the name of Silesia from Elysium, dwelt in placid self-content, unmoved by the catastrophes of Austerlitz or Jena. No measures were, consequently, taken for the defence of the country, and a flying corps of Bavarians, Wurtembergers, and some French under Vandamme, speedily overran the whole province, notwithstanding the number of its fortresses. At Glogau, the commandant, Von Reinhardt, unhesitatingly declared his readiness to capitulate and excluded the gallant Major von Putlitz, who insisted upon making an obstinate defence, "as a revolutionist," from the military council. Being advised by one of the citizens to fire upon the enemy, he rudely replied, "Sir, you do not know what one shot costs the king." In Breslau, the Counts von Thiele and Lindner made a terrible fracas, burned down the fine faubourgs, and blew up the powder-magazine, merely in order to veil the disgrace of a hasty capitulation, which enraged the soldiery to such a pitch that, shattering their muskets, they heaped imprecations on their dastard commanders, and, in revenge, plundered the royal stores. Brieg was ceded after a two days' siege, by the Baron von Cornerut. The defence of the strong fortress of Schweidnitz, of such celebrated importance during the seven years' war, had been intrusted to Count von Haath, a man whose countenance even betokened imbecility. He yielded the fortress without a blow, and, on the windows of the apartment in which he lodged in the neighboring town of Jauer being broken by the patriotic citizens, he went down to the landlord, to whom he said, "My good sir, you must have some enemies!" The remaining fortresses made a better defence. Glatz was taken by surprise, the city by storm. The fortress was defended by the commandant, Count Gotzen, until ammunition sufficient for twelve days longer alone remained. Neisse capitulated from famine; Kosel was gallantly defended by the commandant, Neumann; and Silberberg, situated on an impregnable rock, refused to surrender.
The troops of the Rhenish confederation, encouraged by the bad example set by Vandamme and by several of the superior officers, committed dreadful havoc, plundered the country, robbed and barbarously treated the inhabitants. It was quite a common custom among the officers, on the conclusion of a meal, to carry away with them the whole of their host's table-service. The filthy habits of the French officers were notorious. Their conduct is said to have been not only countenanced but commanded by Napoleon, as a sure means of striking the enervated population with the profoundest terror; and the panic in fact almost amounted to absurdity, the inhabitants of this thickly-populated province nowhere venturing to rise against the handful of robbers by whom they were so cruelly persecuted. A Baron von Puckler offered an individual exception: his endeavors to rouse the inert masses met with no success, and, rendered desperate by his failure, he blew out his brains. When too late a prince of Anhalt-Pless assembled an armed force in Upper Silesia and attempted to relieve Breslau, but Thiele neglecting to make a sally at the decisive moment, the Poles in Prince of Pless's small army took to flight, and the whole plan miscarried. A small Prussian corps, amounting to about five hundred men, commanded by Losthin, afterward infested Silesia, surprised the French under Lefebvre at Kanth and put them to the rout, but were a few days after this exploit taken prisoners by a superior French force.