That is why, on the afternoon of the 13th, he hastily sent to recall Murat’s horse and Bernadotte’s corps from Naumburg and its vicinity; and in consequence Bernadotte took no very active part in the fighting.  For this he has been bitterly blamed, on the strength of an assertion that Napoleon during the night of the 13th-14th sent him an order to support Davoust.  This order has never been produced, and it finds no place in the latest and fullest collection of French official despatches, which, however, contains some that fully exonerate Bernadotte.[111] Unfortunately for Bernadotte’s fame, the tattle of memoir writers is more attractive and gains more currency than the prosaic facts of despatches.

Fortune plays an immense part in warfare; and never did she favour the Emperor more than on October the 14th, 1806.  Fortune and the skill and bravery of Davoust and his corps turned what might have been an almost doubtful conflict into an overwhelming victory.  Though Napoleon was as ignorant of the movements of Brunswick as he was of the flank march of Bluecher at Waterloo, yet the enterprise and tenacity of Davoust and Lannes yielded him, on the Thuringian heights, a triumph scarcely paralleled in the annals of war.  It is difficult to overpraise those Marshals for the energy with which they clung to the foe and brought on a battle under conditions highly favourable to the French:  without their efforts, the Prussian army could never have been shattered on a single day.

The flood of invasion now roared down the Thuringian valleys and deluged the plains of Saxony and Brandenburg.  Rivers and ramparts were alike helpless to stay that all-devouring tide.  On October the 16th, 16,000 men surrendered at Erfurt to Murat:  then, spurring eastward, le beau sabreur rushed on the wreck of Hohenlohe’s force, and with the aid of Lannes’ untiring corps compelled it to surrender at Prenzlau.[112] Bluecher meanwhile stubbornly retreated to the north; but, with Murat, Soult, and Bernadotte dogging his steps, he finally threw himself into Luebeck, where, after a last desperate effort, he surrendered to overpowering numbers (November 7th).

Here the gloom of defeat was relieved by gleams of heroism; but before the walls of other Prussian strongholds disaster was blackened by disgrace.  Held by timid old men or nerveless pedants, they scarcely waited for a vigorous attack.  A few cannon-shots, or even a demonstration of cavalry, generally brought out the white flag.  In quick succession, Spandau, Stettin, Kuestrin, Magdeburg, and Hameln opened their gates, the governor of the last-named being mainly concerned about securing his future retiring pension from the French as soon as Hanover passed into their keeping.

Amidst these shameful surrenders the capital fell into the hands of Davoust (October 25th).  Varnhagen von Ense had described his mingled surprise and admiration at seeing those “lively, impudent, mean-looking little fellows,” who had beaten the splendid soldiers trained in the school of Frederick the Great.  His wonder was natural; but all who looked beneath the surface well knew that Prussia was overthrown before the first shot was fired.  She was the victim of a deadening barrack routine, of official apathy or corruption, and of a degrading policy which dulled the enthusiasm of her sons.