OUTLINE OF EVENTS FROM THE SIGNATURE OF THE PRELIMINARIES TO THE
RUPTURE OF THE PEACE OF AMIENS.
OCTOBER, 1801.-MAY, 1803.
The preliminaries of peace between Great Britain and France, signed
on the first of October, 1801, were regarded by both parties, at
least ostensibly, as settling their relative status and acquisitions.
In their broad outlines no change would be worked by the definitive
treaty, destined merely to regulate details whose adjustment would
demand time and so prolong the distress of war. This expectation,
that the basis of a durable peace had been reached, proved delusive.
A series of unpleasant surprises awaited first one party and then
the other, producing in Great Britain a feeling of insecurity, which
gave point and added vigor to the declamations of those who from the
first had scoffed at the idea of any peace proving permanent, if it
rested upon the good faith of the French government and surrendered
those material guarantees which alone, they asserted, could curb the
ambition and enforce the respect of a man like Bonaparte. Bitter
indeed must have been the unspoken thoughts of the ministry, as the
revolving months brought with them an unceasing succession of events
which justified their opponents' prophecies while proving themselves
to be outwitted; and which, by the increase given to French influence
and power in Europe, necessitated the maintenance of large military
establishments, and converted the peace from first to last into a
condition of armed truce.
The day after the signature of the preliminaries news reached
London[61] of the surrender of Alexandria, which completed the loss of
Egypt by the French. It was believed that Bonaparte had, at the time
of signing, possessed this information, which would have materially
affected the footing upon which he was treating. However that was, he
was undoubtedly assured of the issue,[62] and therefore precipitated a
conclusion by which to France, and not to Great Britain, was attributed
the gracious act of restoring its dominion to the Porte. Concealing
the fact from the Turkish plenipotentiary in Paris, the French
government on the 9th of October signed with him a treaty, by which
it undertook to evacuate the province it no longer held. In return,
Turkey conceded to France, her recent enemy, commercial privileges
equal to those allowed Great Britain, to whose sea power alone she
owed the recovery of Syria and Egypt. This bargain, concluded without
the knowledge of the British ministry, was not made public until after
the ratification of the preliminaries. At the same time became known a
treaty with Portugal, signed at Madrid on the 29th of September. By the
preliminaries with Great Britain, Portuguese territory was to remain
intact; but by the treaty of Madrid so much of Brazil was added to
French Guiana as to give the latter control of the northern outlet of
the Amazon.
These events were surprises, and disagreeable surprises, to the
British ministers. On the other hand, the existence of the secret
treaty of March 21, 1801, by which Spain ceded to France the colony
of Louisiana, was known to them,[63] though unavowed at the time of
signing. While impressed with the importance of this transaction,
following as it did the cession of the Spanish half of San Domingo, the
ministry allowed the veil of mystery, with which Bonaparte had been
pleased to shroud it, to remain unlifted. The United States minister
to London had procured and forwarded to his government on the 20th
of November a copy of this treaty,[64] which so closely affected his
fellow countrymen; but it was not until January, 1802, that the fact
became generally known in England. Gloomy prophecies of French colonial
aggrandizement were uttered by the partisans of the Opposition, who
pictured the hereditary enemy of Great Britain planted by the Spanish
treaty at the mouth of the great river of North America, and by the
Portuguese at that of the artery of the southern continent; while the
vast and rich colonies of Spain, lying between these two extremes,
would be controlled by the supremacy of France in the councils of the
Peninsular courts. In a generation which still retained the convictions
of the eighteenth century on the subject of colonial expansion, these
predictions of evil struck heavily home,—enforced as they were by the
knowledge that full one fourth of the trade which made the strength
of Great Britain rested then upon that Caribbean America, into which
France was now making a colossal intrusion. Faithful to the sagacious
principle by which he ever proportioned the extent of his military
preparation to the vastness of the end in view, the expedition sent
by Bonaparte to reassert in Haïti the long dormant authority of
the mother-country was calculated on a scale which aroused intense
alarm in London. On the 4th of December, 1801, only ten weeks after
the preliminaries were signed, and long before the conclusion of
the definitive treaty, fifteen ships-of-the-line and six frigates
sailed from Brest for Haïti; and these were rapidly followed by other
divisions, so that the whole force dispatched much exceeded twenty
ships-of-the-line, and carried over twenty thousand troops. The number
was none too great for the arduous task,—indeed experience proved it to
be far from adequate to meet the waste due to climatic causes; but to
Great Britain it was portentous. Distrusting Bonaparte's purposes, a
large division of British ships was ordered to re-enforce the squadron
at Jamaica. Weary of a nine-years war and expecting their discharge,
the crews of some of the vessels mutinied; and the execution of several
of these poor seamen was one of the first results of Bonaparte's
ill-fated attempt to restore the colonial system of France.
The apprehensions shown concerning these distant undertakings partook
more of panic than of reasonable fear. They overlooked the long period
that must pass between possession and development, as well as the
hopeless inferiority of France in that sea power upon which the tenure
of colonies must depend. They ignored the evident enormous difficulties
to be overcome, and were blind to the tottering condition of the
Spanish colonial system, then rapidly approaching its fall. But if
there was exaggeration in an anticipation of danger, which the whole
history of her maritime past entitled Great Britain to reject with
scorn, there was no question that each month was revealing unexpected
and serious changes in the relative positions of the two powers, which,
if not wilfully concealed by France, had certainly not been realized by
the British ministers when the preliminaries were signed. Whether they
had been cheated or merely out-manœuvred, it became daily more plain
that the balance of power in Europe, of which Great Britain was so
important a factor, was no longer what it had been when she made such
heavy sacrifices of her maritime conquests to secure the status of the
Continent.
At the same time was unaccountably delayed the work of the
plenipotentiaries, who were to settle at Amiens the terms of the
definitive treaty. The British ambassador left London on the first of
November, and after some stop in Paris reached Amiens on the first of
December. The French and Dutch envoys arrived shortly after; but the
Spanish failed to appear, and on different pretexts negotiations were
spun out. That this was contrary to the wishes of the British ministers
scarcely admits of doubt. They had already made every sacrifice they
could afford; and the position of a popular government, under the free
criticism of a people impatient for a settled condition of affairs, and
forced to temporizing expedients for carrying on the state business
during a period of uncertainty, was too unpleasant to suggest bad
faith on their part. While this suspense still lasted, a startling
event occurred, greatly affecting the balance of power. The Cisalpine
Republic, whose independence was guaranteed by the treaty of Lunéville,
adopted toward the end of 1801 a new constitution, drawn up under the
inspection of Bonaparte himself. Delegates of the republic, to the
number of several hundred, were summoned to Lyon to confer with the
first consul on the permanent organization of their state; and there,
under his influence, as was alleged, offered to him the presidency,
with functions even more extensive than those he enjoyed as ruler of
France. The offer was accepted by him on the 26th of January, 1802; and
thus the power of the Cisalpine, with its four million inhabitants, was
wielded by the same man who already held that of the French republic. A
few days later for the name Cisalpine was substituted Italian,—a change
thought to indicate an aggressive attitude towards the remaining states
of Italy.
These proceedings at Lyon caused great alarm in England, and many
persons before pacifically disposed now wished to renew the war.
The ministers nevertheless ignored what had passed so publicly, and
continued the effort for peace, despite the delays and tergiversations
of which their envoy, Lord Cornwallis, bitterly complained; but by
the beginning of March, when negotiations had lasted three months,
their patience began to give way. A number of ships were ordered into
commission, and extensive naval preparations begun. At the same time
an ultimatum was sent forward, and Cornwallis instructed to leave
Amiens in eight days if it were not accepted. The first consul had too
much at stake on the seas to risk a rupture,[65] when he had already
gained so much by the protraction of negotiations and by his astute
diplomacy. The definitive treaty was signed on the 25th of March, 1802.
The terms did not materially differ from those of the preliminaries,
except in the article of Malta. The boundary of French Guiana obtained
from Portugal was indeed pushed back off the Amazon, but no mention was
made of the now notorious cession of Louisiana.
The provisions touching the little island of Malta and its
dependencies, Gozo and Comino, were long and elaborate. The object of
each country was to secure the exclusion of the other from a position
so important for controlling the Mediterranean and the approaches
thereby to Egypt and India. The Order of Knights was to be restored,
with the provision that no citizen either of Great Britain or France
was thereafter to be a member. The independence and neutrality of the
Order and of the island were proclaimed. The British forces were to
evacuate within three months after the exchange of ratifications; but
this stipulation was qualified by the proviso that there should then
be on the spot a Grand Master to receive possession, and also two
thousand Neapolitan troops which the king of Naples was to be invited
to send as a garrison. These were to remain for one year after its
restitution to the Grand Master; or longer, if the Order had not then
provided the necessary force. Naples was thus selected as guardian of
the coveted position, because its weakness could arouse no jealousy.
The independence of the islands was placed under the guarantee of Great
Britain, France, Austria, Spain, Russia, and Prussia; the last four
being also invited to accede to the long list of stipulations. The
presence of a grand master and the guarantee of the four powers—whose
acquiescence was not first obtained—were thus integral parts of the
agreement; and upon their failure Great Britain afterwards justified
the delays which left Malta still a pledge in her hands, when she
demanded from France explanations and indemnities for subsequent
actions, injurious, as she claimed, to her security and to her dignity.
By another clause of the treaty Great Britain consented to evacuate
Porto Ferrajo, the principal port in Elba, which she had up to that
time held by force of arms. It was then known that this was in effect
to abandon the island to France, who had obtained its cession from
Naples and Tuscany, formerly joint owners, by conventions first made
known some time after the signature of the preliminaries. Elba was by
its position fitted seriously to embarrass the trade of Great Britain
with Northern Italy, under the restrictions laid wherever Bonaparte's
power extended; but the most important feature of the transaction
was the impression produced by the long concealment of treaties thus
unexpectedly divulged. These sudden, unforeseen changes imparted an air
of illusion to all existing conditions, and undermined the feeling of
security essential to the permanent relations of states.
Despite the shocks caused by these various revelations, the treaty of
Amiens was received in Great Britain with satisfaction, though not
with the unmeasured demonstrations that followed the announcement of
the preliminaries. In France the general joy was no less profound. "It
was believed," writes M. Thiers, "that the true peace, the peace of
the seas, was secured,—that peace which was the certain and necessary
condition of peace on the Continent." The enthusiasm of the nation
was poured out at the feet of the first consul, to whose genius for
war and for diplomacy were not unjustly attributed the brilliant, as
well as apparently solid, results. Statesmen might murmur that France
had lost her colonial empire and failed to hold Egypt and Malta,
while Great Britain had extended and consolidated her Indian empire
by overthrowing the Sultan of Mysore, the ancient ally of France and
her own most formidable foe in the peninsula; but the mass even of
intelligent Frenchmen stopped not to regard the wreck of their sea
power, of which those disastrous events were but the sign. Facts so
remote, and whose significance was not immediately apparent, were lost
to sight in the glare of dazzling deeds wrought close at hand. All
eyes were held by the splendid succession of victories in Italy and
Germany, by the extension of the republic to her natural limits at the
Rhine and the Alps, by the restoration of internal order, and by the
proudly dominant position accorded their ruler in the councils of the
Continent. To these was now added free access to the sea, wrung by the
same mighty hand—as was fondly believed—from the weakening of the great
Sea Power. At an extraordinary session of the Legislature, convoked to
give legal sanction to the treaties and measures of the government,
the Treaty of Amiens was presented last, as the crowning work of the
first consul; and it was used as the occasion for conferring upon him
a striking mark of public acknowledgment. After some hesitations, the
question was submitted to the nation whether his tenure of office
should be for life. The majority of votes cast were affirmative; and
on the 3d of August, 1802, the senate formally presented to him a
_senatus-consultum_, setting forth that "the French people names, and
the senate proclaims. Napoleon Bonaparte consul for life."
Bonaparte had not waited for this exaltation to continue his restless
political activity, destined soon to make waste paper of the Treaty of
Amiens. Great Britain having steadfastly refused to recognize the new
states set up by him in Italy, he argued she had forfeited all right to
interfere thenceforth in their concerns. From this he seems to have
advanced to the position that she had no further claim to mingle in the
affairs of the Continent at large. The consequent indifference shown
by him to British sentiment and interests, in continental matters,
was increased by his conviction that "in the existing state of Europe
England cannot reasonably make war, alone, against us;"[66] an opinion
whose open avowal in more offensive terms afterwards became the spark
to kindle the final great conflagration.
The treaty of Lunéville had provided that the German princes, who by
it lost territory on the west bank of the Rhine and in Italy, should
receive compensation elsewhere in the German empire; and it was agreed
that these indemnities should be made mainly at the expense of the
ecclesiastical principalities, where, the tenure being for life only,
least hardship would be involved. The difficulties attending these
distributions, and the fixed animosity between Prussia and Austria,
gave Bonaparte a fair pretext to intervene as mediator, and to guide
the final settlement upon lines which should diminish the relative
power and prestige of France's traditional enemy, Austria, and exalt
her rivals. In doing this he adroitly obtained the imposing support
of Russia, whose young sovereign readily accepted the nattering offer
of joint intervention; the more so that the princes allied to his
family might thus receive a disproportionate share of the spoils. Under
Bonaparte's skilful handling, the acquisitions of Prussia were so far
greater than those of Austria as to fulfil his prediction, that "the
empire of Germany should be really divided into two empires, since
its affairs will be arranged at two different centres."[67] After the
settlement he boasted that "the affairs of Germany had been arranged
entirely to the advantage of France and of her allies."[68] Great
Britain was not consulted; and her people, though silent, saw with
displeasure the weakening of their ally and the aggrandizement of a
state they held to be faithless as well as hostile. At the same time
bad feeling was further excited by the peremptory demands of Bonaparte
for the expulsion from England of certain French royalists, and for
the repression of the freedom of the British press in its attacks upon
himself. To these demands the British government declined to yield.
The reclamations of Bonaparte against the press, and his intervention
in German affairs, preceded the proclamation of the consulate for
life. It was followed at a short interval by the formal incorporation
with France of Piedmont and Elba, by decree dated September 11, 1802.
Piedmont had been organized as a French military department in April,
1801;[69] and Bonaparte had then secretly avowed the measure to be a
first step to annexation. The significance of the present action was
that it changed a condition which was _de facto_ only, and presumably
temporary, to one that was claimed to be _de jure_ and permanent. As
such, it was a distinct encroachment by France, much affecting the
states of the Continent, and especially Austria, against whose Italian
possessions Piedmont was meant to serve as a base of operations. The
adjacent Republic of Liguria, as the Genoese territory was then styled,
was also organized as a French military division,[70] and no security
existed against similar action there,—most injurious to British
commerce, and adding another to the transformation scenes passing
before the eyes of Europe. Nor was the material gain to France alone
considered; for, no compensation being given to the King of Sardinia
for the loss of his most important state, this consummated injury was
felt as a slight by both Great Britain and Russia, which had earnestly
sought some reparation for him. For the time, however, no remonstrance
was made by the ministry.
New offence was soon given, which, if not greater in degree, produced
all the effect of cumulative grievance. The little canton of Valais,
in south-western Switzerland, had in the spring of 1802 been forcibly
detached from the confederation and proclaimed independent, in order
to secure to the French the Simplon route passing through it to Italy;
a measure which, wrote Bonaparte, "joined to the exclusive right
of France to send her armies by that road, has changed the system
of war to be adopted in Italy."[71] No further open step was then
taken to control the affairs of Switzerland; but the French minister
was instructed to support secretly the party in sympathy with the
Revolution,[72] and an ominous sentence appeared in the message of the
first consul to the Legislature, May 6, 1802, that "the counsels of
the French government to the factions in Switzerland had so far been
ineffective. It is still hoped that the voice of wisdom and moderation
will command attention, and that the powers adjoining Helvetia will
not be forced to intervene to stifle troubles whose continuance would
threaten their own tranquillity."[73]
In Switzerland, perhaps more than in any other part of Europe, had
been realized the purpose, announced by the National Convention in
the celebrated decrees of November 19 and December 15, 1792, to
propagate by force changes in the government of countries where the
French armies could penetrate. Vast changes had indeed been made in
Belgium, Holland, and Italy; but these when first invaded were in
open war with France. The interference in Switzerland in 1798 had no
characteristic of serious war, for no means of opposition existed in
the invaded cantons. It was an armed intervention, undertaken by
the Directory under the impulsion of Bonaparte, avowedly to support
citizens of a foreign state "wishing to recover their liberty."[74] "As
soon as the signal was given by the entrance of the French armies in
1798 the rising was prompt and general;"[75] and was followed by the
adoption of a highly centralized constitution, for which the country
was unprepared. From that time forward agitation was incessant. Two
parties strove for the mastery; the one favoring the new order, known
as the Unitarians, whose sympathies were with the French Revolution,
the other the Aristocratic, which sought to return towards the former
Constitution, and looked for countenance and support to the older
governments of Europe. Between the two there was a central party of
more moderate opinions.
Having secured the Valais for France, Bonaparte in August, 1802,
withdrew the French troops till then maintained in Switzerland;
a politic measure tending to show Europe that he respected the
independence of the country guaranteed at Lunéville. The opposing
parties soon came to blows; and the nominal government of moderates,
which had obtained its authority by extra-constitutional action,[76]
found that it had on its side "neither the ardent patriots, who wished
absolute unity, nor the peaceable masses sufficiently well disposed
to the revolution, but who knew it only by the horrors of war and the
presence of foreign troops."[77] The aristocratic party got the upper
hand and established itself in the capital, whence the government was
driven. The latter appealed to Bonaparte to intervene; and after a
moment's refusal he decided to do so. "I will not," he said, "deliver
the formidable bastions of the Alps to fifteen hundred mercenaries
paid by England." A French colonel was sent as special envoy bearing
a proclamation, dated September 30, 1802, to command the oligarchic
government to dissolve and all armed assemblies to disperse. To support
this order, thirty thousand French soldiers, under General Ney, were
massed on the frontiers and soon entered the country. Before this show
of force all opposition in Switzerland at once ceased.
The emotion of Europe was profound; but of the great powers none
save Great Britain spoke. What to Bonaparte was a step necessary
to the supremacy of France, even though a violation of the treaty
of Lunéville, was, in the eyes of Englishmen, not only among the
ministry but among the most strenuous of the opposition, an oppressive
interference with "the lawful efforts of a brave and generous people
to recover their ancient laws and government, and to procure the
re-establishment of a system which experience has demonstrated not only
to be favorable to the maintenance of their domestic happiness, but to
be perfectly consistent with the tranquillity and security of other
powers." The British cabinet expressed an unwillingness to believe that
there "would be any further attempt to control that independent nation
in the exercise of its undoubted rights."[78]
Despite this avowed confidence, the ministry on the same day, October
10, that this vigorous remonstrance was penned, dispatched a special
envoy with orders to station himself on the frontiers of Switzerland,
ascertain the disposition of the people, and assure them that, if
they were disposed to resist the French advance, Great Britain would
furnish them pecuniary succors. The envoy was carefully to refrain
from promoting resistance, if the Swiss did not spontaneously offer
it; but if they did, he was to give them every facility to obtain arms
and supplies. Being thus committed to a course which could scarcely
fail to lead to hostilities, the British ministry next bethought itself
to secure some conquests of the late war, for whose restitution, in
compliance with the treaty, orders had already gone forward. On the
17th of October dispatches were sent to the West Indies, to Dutch
Guiana, and to the Cape of Good Hope, directing that the French and
Dutch colonies ordered to be restored should be retained until further
instructions.
Upon receiving the British remonstrance, Bonaparte broke into furious
words mingled with threats. On the 23d of October he dictated
instructions to M. Otto, the French minister in London, which are
characterized even by M. Thiers as truly extraordinary. "He would not
deliver the Alps to fifteen hundred mercenaries paid by England. If
the British ministry, to support its parliamentary influence, should
intimate that there was anything the first consul had not done,
because he was prevented from doing it, that instant he would do it."
He scouted the danger to France from maritime war, and said plainly
that, if it arose, the coasts of Europe from Hanover to Taranto would
be occupied by French troops and closed to British commerce. "Liguria,
Lombardy, Switzerland and Holland would be converted into French
provinces, realizing the Empire of the Gauls." Great Britain herself
was threatened with invasion by a hundred thousand soldiers; and if,
to avert the danger, she succeeded in arousing another continental
war, "it would be England that forced us to conquer Europe. The first
consul was but thirty-three. He had as yet destroyed only states of
the second order. Who knows how long it would take him, if forced
thereto, to change again the face of Europe and revive the Empire of
the West?" The minister was directed to state to the British government
that the policy of France towards England was "the whole treaty of
Amiens; nothing but the treaty of Amiens." A week later the same phrase
was repeated in the Moniteur, the official journal, in an article
which expressly denied Great Britain's right to appeal to the treaty
of Lunéville, because she had refused to recognize the new states
constituted by it. M. Otto wisely withheld the provoking language of
the dispatch, but necessarily communicated the demand for the whole
treaty of Amiens and the refusal of aught not therein found. To this
the British minister of foreign affairs replied with the pregnant
words, "The state of the Continent when the treaty of Amiens was
signed, and nothing but that state." The two declarations created a
dead-lock, unless one party would recede.
Despite these explicit formulas both governments were somewhat in
the dark as to the extent of the dangers. The British ministry had
not heard all that Bonaparte said, and he was ignorant of the orders
sent to retain the captured colonies. Meanwhile, Swiss opposition
having failed, the British envoy to them was recalled; and on the
15th of November new instructions were sent to the Cape of Good Hope
and the West Indies, revoking those of the previous month to stop the
restitutions. It remained, however, a question whether the second
vessel would overtake the first. If she did not, the action of the
British ministry would transpire in an offensive way. Accordingly, when
Parliament met on the 23d of November, the king's speech took the color
of this perplexity, alluding somewhat enigmatically to the necessity
of watching the European situation and providing for security as well
as for peace. The debates which followed were tinged with the same
hue of uncertainty. The ministry could only say that its policy was
to preserve peace, if possible; but that, in view of recent events,
it must call upon the House and the country to entertain a spirit of
watchfulness.[79]
The Swiss affair was the turning-point in the relations of the two
countries. The first consul's vigilance had been lulled by the seeming
easy acquiescence of the British ministry in previous encroachments,
and the readiness with which, notwithstanding these, they had
surrendered their conquests and continued to fulfil the terms of the
treaty. Their present action not only exasperated, but aroused him.
The remonstrance ended in words; but, like the little trickle which
betrays the fissure in a dam, it betokened danger and gave warning
that the waters of strife were ready to burst through the untempered
barrier put together to restrain them, and again pour their desolating
flood over Europe. Bonaparte began to look carefully at the existing
situation, and found that the British troops had not yet quitted Egypt
nor surrendered Malta to the Order of St. John. Representations were
made on both these subjects, and the British government was pressed to
evacuate Malta.[80]
The ministry, however, were also alive to the gravity of the situation,
increased as it was by the orders, not yet known, to stop the
restitutions. To abandon Egypt to Turkey they had no objection; and
to the French ambassador's demand replied, on November 30, that the
failure to do so had resulted from a misunderstanding on the part of
the British commander-in-chief, to whom explicit instructions were
now sent. Regarding Malta, their feeling was very different. Honestly
intending to carry out the treaty, they had admitted the Neapolitan
garrison to the island, though not yet to the fortifications; and their
ambassadors to the Great Powers had been early directed to ask their
guarantee for the independence of the Order. The French government
did not instruct its representatives to do the same. Whether this was
due, as Thiers says, to the negligence of Talleyrand, or whether the
first consul preferred not to be troubled by the resistance of other
powers in case he again seized the island, the failure of France
to join in the application caused Russia and Prussia to defer their
answer to the British ambassadors. The joint request was not made to
Prussia until September, nor to the czar until November 3. By this time
the Swiss incident had come and gone, leaving behind it the state of
tension already described. Not till the 25th of the month did the czar
reply; and then, before giving his acquiescence, he required in the
organization of the island changes seriously affecting the object of
the treaty, which aimed to base its independence upon its own people
as well as upon guarantees. At Amiens it had been agreed that the
Order should be open to native Maltese, by whom also at least half the
government offices should be filled. Half the garrison likewise was
to be composed of natives. To these provisions the czar excepted. All
such points of interior organization were to be left to the decision of
the legal government of the Order;[81] i. e., of the Order as before
constituted.
The record of the ministry in the matter of Malta was so clear that
it could well afford to protract discussion on the points raised by
Russia. No cession made by the treaty had been more generally lamented
by Englishmen, keenly sensitive to all that affected their position
in the Mediterranean or threatened the approaches to India. In case
the peace which was its sole achievement failed, the ministry could
save from the wreck of its hopes no more welcome prize with which to
meet a disappointed people. Other valid objections to restoration were
not wanting. No Grand Master had yet accepted. Spain, notoriously
under Bonaparte's influence, had suppressed the revenues of the Order
within her limits. Similar action had followed elsewhere, and it was
argued that the income of the Order would not suffice to maintain the
defence of the island, nor consequently its independence. But, while
thus keeping its hold on Malta by diplomatic pleas, the ministry took
broader ground in its discussions with France. Its envoy there was
replaced by an ambassador of the highest rank, Lord Whitworth; who was
instructed to affirm explicitly Great Britain's right to interfere
in continental affairs, whenever in her judgment required by her own
interests, or those of Europe in general. He was also to point out the
various encroachments which had added to the influence and power of
France, and to intimate that these changes in the conditions since the
treaty had been concluded entitled Great Britain to compensations. The
annexation of Piedmont, the renunciation of the Grand Duke of Parma in
favor of France, the invasion of Switzerland, were specifically named
as making a most material alteration in the state of engagements since
the conclusion of the definitive treaty. Attention was also called to
the fact that although, by a convention signed in August, 1801, French
troops were to remain in Holland only until the conclusion of peace
between Great Britain and France, they had not yet been withdrawn,
thus violating the independence of the Batavian republic guaranteed
at Lunéville. The ambassador was warned, however, not to commit the
government to any specific determinations, and especially on the
subject of Malta.[82]
The ministers, therefore, were still undecided. They had climbed upon
the fence, but were prepared to get down again on the side whence
they had started, if a fair opportunity were given. Unfortunately for
the interests of peace, Bonaparte, in the madness of his strength,
either exaggerating the weakness of the ministry or underestimating
the impulsion it could receive from popular feeling, proceeded
deliberately to arouse the spirit which he was never again able to
lay. On the 30th of January, 1803, was published in the "Moniteur"
Colonel Sébastiani's famous report of his mission to the Levant.
Sébastiani had been dispatched in a frigate the previous September, to
visit Tripoli, Egypt, Syria, and the Ionian islands, and ascertain the
political and military conditions. His report was in the main a fulsome
narrative of the reverence in which the first consul was said to be
held by the Eastern peoples; but, upon the very detailed account of the
indifference to military preparations, followed the startling statement
that "six thousand French troops would now suffice to conquer Egypt."
The Ionian islands were also pronounced ready to declare themselves
French at the first opportunity. Finally, General Stuart, commanding
the British troops in Alexandria, was accused of seeking to compass
Sébastiani's murder by sending to the Pasha a copy of a general order
issued by Bonaparte when in Egypt.
The exasperation such a paper would excite in Great Britain was so
obvious, that its publication has been attributed to the deliberate
design to provoke a maritime war; under cover of which the first
consul could, without open humiliation, abandon the enterprise against
Haïti.[83] The first and general success of the French troops in that
colony had been followed by a frightful pestilence of yellow fever;
after which the negroes in every quarter again rose and defied the
weakened bands of their enemies. On the 8th of January the "Moniteur"
published the death of Leclerc, the commander-in-chief, with an account
of the ravages of the disease. It was indeed painfully apparent that
the colony could not be regained, and utilized, without an expenditure
of life impossible to afford;[84] but the fever itself was an excuse
even more potent than the British navy for abandoning the attempt
without military dishonor. To penetrate the real motives of a spirit
so subtle and unscrupulous as Bonaparte's is hopeless; nor can
dependence be placed upon the statements of his brothers Lucien and
Joseph, who are the sole authorities for the purpose thus alleged for
the publication. There seems little cause to seek another reason than
the same truculent arrogance manifested in his instructions to Otto of
October 23, and the success which his past experience had taught him to
expect from bluster. The secret mission to Prussia of his confidential
aid, Duroc, six weeks later, clearly indicates that the result had
disappointed him and that he did not want war,—at least as yet.[85]
Duroc was instructed to see the king personally and say that, if war
broke out, French troops would occupy Hanover, a step known to be
particularly obnoxious to Prussia, who wished herself to absorb it. Her
repugnance was to be used as a lever, to induce intervention with Great
Britain to evacuate Malta.[86]
Bonaparte in truth was less interested in the West than in the East,
whose vast populations, vivid history, and fabled riches struck his
imagination far more forcibly than the unpeopled wildernesses of
America. Access to the East, as to the West, was perforce by water,
and so controlled by the power that ruled the sea; but the way by the
Levant was shorter, evasion therefore easier. Malta, Taranto, the
Ionian islands, the Morea were gateways to the East. The last three,
as practically continental,[87] he considered to be within his own
grasp; the first alone could be readily and securely held by the Power
of the Seas. From it therefore he sought to hasten her. On the 27th of
January Talleyrand, "with great solemnity and by express order of the
first consul," required of Lord Whitworth to inform him what were his
Majesty's intentions regarding the evacuation of Malta. No reply was
given, except a promise to report the conversation.[88] On the 30th
was issued Sébastiani's report, whose scarcely veiled threats against
British interests in the East might perhaps induce a weak government to
propitiate the first consul by compliance.
If so meant, the attempt was miscalculated. The British ministry
replied that, despite his just claim for compensation, the king would
have withdrawn his force from Malta, when the clauses of the treaty
affecting it were fulfilled; but that, in view of Sébastiani's report,
he would not do so until substantial security was provided against
the purposes therein revealed. From that time forward letters and
interviews followed in rapid succession, the British ministry gradually
stiffening in its attitude concerning the island. On the 20th of
February Bonaparte gave a fresh provocation which deeply stirred the
British people, although no notice was taken of it by the ministry. In
a message sent that day to the legislature, he declared the certainty
of continental peace; but concerning Great Britain he continued: "Two
parties there strive for power. One has made peace and wishes to keep
it; the other has sworn implacable hatred to France.... Whatever the
success of intrigue in London, it will not drag other nations into new
leagues, and this government says with just pride: 'England, alone,
cannot to-day contend against France.'"
On March 8 the British government sent a message to Parliament, that,
in consequence of military preparations going on in the ports of France
and Holland, the king judged expedient to adopt additional measures
of precaution for the security of his dominions. It is fair to say
that these preparations were not on a scale by themselves to warrant
the proposed action; which was asserted by critics of the ministry to
be due to information of transactions at the Cape of Good Hope. This
had already been delivered to the Dutch authorities when the orders
countermanding the restitution arrived; but the British commander
had adroitly repossessed himself of the works. This news reached
London early in March; and the proposed armaments were thought to be
precautions rather against Bonaparte's action, when he too heard it,
than against the existing movements in French or Dutch ports.
From this time forward Great Britain rather than France was aggressive.
Receiving no explanation upon the grievances advanced, Lord Whitworth
was on the 4th of April instructed to say that, if the French
government continued to evade discussion about compensations due for
its aggressions on the Continent and satisfaction for Sébastiani's
report, and yet demanded the evacuation of Malta, he should declare
that relations of amity could not continue to exist, and that he must
leave Paris within a certain time. If they were willing to discuss, he
was instructed to propose the cession of Malta in perpetuity to Great
Britain and the evacuation of Holland and Switzerland by French troops;
in return for which Great Britain would confirm Elba to France and
acknowledge the kingdom of Etruria. If a satisfactory arrangement were
made in Italy for the king of Sardinia, she would further acknowledge
the Italian and Ligurian republics. The first consul replied that
he would sooner see the British on the heights of Montmartre than
in the possession of Malta. Some futile efforts were made to find a
middle term; but the ministry having insisted, as its ultimatum,
upon occupying the island for at least ten years, the ambassador
demanded his passports and left Paris on the 12th of May. On the 16th
Great Britain declared war against France. The following day Admiral
Cornwallis sailed from Plymouth with ten ships-of-the-line, and two
days later appeared off Brest, resuming the watch of that port. On the
afternoon of the 18th Nelson hoisted his flag on board the "Victory" at
Portsmouth, and on the 20th sailed for the Mediterranean, there to take
the chief command.
Thus again, after a brief intermission, began the strife between
Great Britain and France, destined during its twelve years' course
to involve successively all the powers of Europe, from Portugal to
Russia, from Turkey to Sweden. On the land, state after state went
down before the great soldier who wielded the armies of France and the
auxiliary legions of subject countries, added to her standards by his
policy. Victory after victory graced his eagles, city after city and
province after province were embodied in his empire, peace after peace
was wrested from the conquered; but one enemy remained ever erect,
unsubdued, defiant; and on the ocean there was neither peace nor truce,
until the day when he himself fell under the hosts of foes, aroused by
his vain attempt to overthrow, through their sufferings, the power that
rested upon the seas.
The debates in the House of Commons revealed an agreement of sentiment
unparalleled in the former war. Differences of opinion there were. A
very few thought that hostilities might even yet be averted, while
others argued bitterly that, had Bonaparte's first encroachments been
resisted, the nation might have been spared, if not war, at least
humiliation. But, while both groups condemned the administration, the
one for precipitation, the other for pusillanimous and protracted
submission, both agreed that just occasion for war had been given. As
usual, opposition took the form of an amendment to the address, which,
while carefully excluding any approval of the ministry, still "assured
his Majesty of our firm determination to co-operate with his Majesty
in calling forth the resources of the United Kingdom for the vigorous
prosecution of the war in which we are involved." The proposer, Mr.
Grey—one of the most strenuous opponents of the former war—was careful
to say that, though he objected to some points of the late negotiation,
he acknowledged the necessity of resisting the spirit of encroachment
shown by France. Even for this very qualified disapproval of a ministry
in whose capacity none had confidence, there could in this grave crisis
be found only 67 votes, against 398 who preferred not to weaken, by an
apparent discord, the unanimous voice. Having regard to the reasons
for their dissent urged by the various speakers, the result disposes
forever of the vain assertion that Great Britain feared to meet France
alone. The solemn decision was not taken blindfold nor in haste. The
exorbitant power of Bonaparte, the impossibility of allies, the burden
that must be borne, were all quoted and faced; and Mr. Pitt, who
then spoke for the first time in many months, while fully supporting
the war, warned the members in his stately periods of the arduous
struggle before them. "In giving their assurances he trusted that
other gentlemen felt impressed with the same sense which he did of
the awful importance of the engagement into which they were preparing
to enter; and that they considered those assurances, not as formal
words of ceremony or custom, but as a solemn and deliberate pledge, on
behalf of themselves and of the nation whom they represented,—knowing
and feeling to their full extent the real difficulties and dangers of
their situation, and being prepared to meet those difficulties and
dangers with every exertion and every sacrifice which the unexampled
circumstances of the times rendered indispensable for the public
safety.... The scale of our exertions could not be measured by those
of former times, or confined within the limits even of the great, and
till then unexampled, efforts of the last war."[89]
In the same speech Pitt correctly and explicitly indicated the two
methods by which France might seek to subdue Great Britain. "If they
indulge themselves in any expectation of success in the present
contest, it is built chiefly on the supposition (1) that they can
either break the spirit and shake the determination of the country by
harassing us with perpetual apprehension of descent upon our coasts, or
(2) that they can impair our resources and undermine our credit, by the
effects of an expensive and protracted contest." Not to one only, but
to both of these means did Bonaparte resort, on a scale proportioned to
his comprehensive genius and his mighty resources. For the invasion of
England preparations were at once begun, so extensive and so thorough
as to indicate not a mere threat, but a fixed purpose; and at the
same time measures were taken to close to Great Britain the markets
of the Continent, as well as to harass her commerce by the ordinary
operations of maritime war. Trafalgar marked the term when all thought
of invasion disappeared, and was succeeded by the vast combinations of
the Continental System, itself but an expansion of the former measures
of exclusion. Framed to impair the resources and sap the credit of
Great Britain, this stupendous fabric, upheld, not by the cohesion of
its parts, but by the dextrous balancing of an ever watchful policy,
overtaxed the skill and strength of its designer, and crushed him in
its fall.