[Illustration:  BATTLE OF FRIEDLAND]

Nevertheless, as late as 3 p.m., Napoleon was in doubt whether he should not await the arrival of Murat.  At his instructions, Berthier ordered that Marshal to leave Soult at Koenigsberg and hurry back with Davoust and the cavalry towards Friedland:  “If I perceive at the beginning of this fight that the enemy is in too great force, I might be content with cannonading to-day and awaiting your arrival.”  But a little later the Emperor decides for instant attack.  The omens are all favourable.  If driven back the Russians will fight with their backs to a deep river.  Besides, their position is cut in twain by a mill-stream which flows in a gulley, and near the town is dammed up so as to form a small lake.  Below this lies Friedland in a deep bend of the river itself.  Into this cul-de-sac he will drive the Russian left, and fling their broken lines into the lake and river.

At five o’clock a salvo of twenty guns opened the second and greater battle of Friedland.  To rush on the Muscovite van and clear it from the wood of Sortlack was for Ney’s leading division the work of a moment; but on reaching the open ground their ranks were ploughed by the shot of the Russian guns ranged on the hills beyond the river.  Staggered by this fire, the division was wavering, when the Russian Guards and their choicest squadrons of horse charged home with deadly effect.  But Ney’s second division, led by the gallant Dupont, hurried up to restore the balance, while Latour-Maubourg’s dragoons fell on the enemy’s horsemen and drove them pell-mell towards Friedland.

The Russian artillery fared little better:  Napoleon directed Senarmont with thirty-six guns to take it in flank and it was soon overpowered.  Freed now from the Russian grapeshot and sabres, Ney held on his course like a torrent that masters a dam, reached the upper part of the lake, and threw the bewildered foe into its waters or into the town.  Friedland was now a death-trap:  huddled together, plied by shell, shot and bayonet, the Russians fought from street to street with the energy of despair, but little by little were driven back on the bridges.  No help was to be found there; for Senarmont, bringing up his guns, swept the bridges with a terrific fire:  when part of the Russian left and centre had fled across, they burst into flames, a signal that warned their comrades further north of their coming doom.  On that side, too, a general advance of the French drove the enemy back towards the steep banks of the river.  But on those open plains the devotion and prowess of the Muscovite cavalry bore ampler fruit:  charging the foe while in the full swing of victory, these gallant riders gave time for the infantry to attempt the dangers of a deep ford:  hundreds were drowned, but others, along with most of the guns, stole away in the darkness down the left bank of the river.