Neutrality of Venice--The Archduke Charles--Battle of
Tagliamento--Retreat of the Archduke--Treaty of Leoben--War with
Venice--Venice conquered.
Napoleon was now master of all northern Italy, with the exception of the
territories of Venice, which antique government, though no longer
qualified to keep equal rank with the first princes of Europe, was still
proud and haughty, and not likely to omit any favourable opportunity of
aiding Austria in the great and common object of ridding Italy of the
French. Buonaparte heard without surprise that the Doge had been raising
new levies, and that the senate could command an army of 50,000,
composed chiefly of fierce and semi-barbarous Sclavonian mercenaries. He
demanded what these demonstrations meant, and was answered that Venice
had no desire but to maintain a perfect neutrality. Meantime there was
not wanting a strong party, throughout the Venetian territories of the
mainland, who were anxious to emulate the revolutionary movements of the
great cities of Lombardy, and to emancipate themselves from the yoke of
the Venetian oligarchy, as their neighbours had done by that of the
Austrian crown. Insurrections occurred at Bergamo, Brescia, and
elsewhere; and Buonaparte, though little disposed to give the
inhabitants of these places the boon they were in quest of, saw and
profited by the opportunity of dividing, by their means, the resources,
and shaking the confidence, of the senate. After some negotiation, he
told the Venetian envoy that he granted the prayer of his masters. "Be
neuter," said he, "but see that your neutrality be indeed sincere and
perfect. If any insurrection occur in my rear, to cut off my
communications in the event of my marching on Germany--if any movement
whatever betray the disposition of your senate to aid the enemies of
France, be sure that vengeance will follow--from that hour the
independence of Venice has ceased to be."
More than a month had now elapsed since Alvinzi's defeat at Rivoli; in
nine days the war with the Pope had reached its close; and, having left
some garrisons in the towns on the Adige, to watch the neutrality of
Venice, Napoleon hastened to carry the war into the hereditary dominions
of the Emperor. Twenty thousand fresh troops had recently joined his
victorious standard from France; and, at the head of perhaps a larger
force than he had ever before mustered, he proceeded to the frontier of
the Frioul, where, according to his information, the main army of
Austria, recruited once more to its original strength, was preparing to
open a sixth campaign--under the orders, not of Alvinzi, but of a
general young like himself, and hitherto eminently successful--the same
who had already by his combinations baffled two such masters in the art
of war as Jourdan and Moreau--the Archduke Charles; a prince on whose
high talents the last hopes of the empire seemed to repose.
To give the details of the sixth campaign, which now commenced, would be
to repeat the story which has been already five times told. The
Archduke, fettered by the Aulic Council of Vienna, saw himself compelled
to execute a plan which he had discrimination enough to condemn. The
Austrian army once more commenced operations on a double basis--one
great division on the Tyrolese frontier, and a greater under the
Archduke himself on the Friulese; and Napoleon--who had, even when
acting on the defensive, been able, by the vivacity of his movements, to
assume the superiority on whatever point he chose to select--was not
likely to strike his blows with less skill and vigour, now that his
numbers, and the acquiescence of Italy behind him, permitted him to
assume the offensive.
Buonaparte found the Archduke posted behind the river Tagliamento, in
front of the rugged Carinthian mountains, which guard the passage in
that quarter from Italy to Germany. Detaching Massena to the Piave,
where the Austrian division of Lusignan were in observation, he himself
determined to charge the Archduke in front. Massena was successful in
driving Lusignan before him as far as Belluno, (where a rear guard of
500 surrendered,) and thus turned the Austrian flank. Buonaparte then
attempted and effected the passage of the Tagliamento. After a great and
formal display of his forces, which was met by similar demonstrations
on the Austrian side of the river, he suddenly broke up his line and
retreated. The Archduke, knowing that the French had been marching all
the night before, concluded that the general wished to defer the battle
till another day; and in like manner withdrew to his camp. About two
hours after Napoleon rushed with his whole army, who had merely lain
down in ranks, upon the margin of the Tagliamento, no longer adequately
guarded--and had forded the stream ere the Austrian line of battle could
be formed. In the action which followed (March 12) the troops of the
Archduke displayed much gallantry, but every effort to dislodge Napoleon
failed; at length retreat was judged necessary. The French followed hard
behind. They stormed Gradisca, where they made 5000 prisoners; and--the
Archduke pursuing his retreat--occupied in the course of a few days
Trieste, Fiume, and every stronghold in Carinthia. In the course of a
campaign of twenty days, the Austrians fought Buonaparte ten times, but
the overthrow on the Tagliamento was never recovered; and the Archduke,
after defending Styria inch by inch as he had Carinthia, at length
adopted the resolution of reaching Vienna by forced marches, there to
gather round him whatever force the loyalty of his nation could muster,
and make a last stand beneath the walls of the capital.
This plan, at first sight the mere dictate of despair, was in truth that
of a wise and prudent general. The Archduke had received intelligence
from two quarters of events highly unfavourable to the French. General
Laudon, the Austrian commander on the Tyrol frontier, had descended
thence with forces sufficient to overwhelm Buonaparte's lieutenants on
the upper Adige, and was already in possession of the whole Tyrol, and
of several of the Lombard towns. Meanwhile the Venetian Senate, on
hearing of these Austrian successes, had plucked up courage to throw
aside their flimsy neutrality, and not only declared war against France,
but encouraged their partizans in Verona to open the contest with an
inhuman massacre of the French wounded in the hospitals of that city.
The vindictive Italians, wherever the French party was inferior in
numbers, resorted to similar atrocities. The few troops left in Lombardy
by Napoleon were obliged to shut themselves up in garrisons, which the
insurgent inhabitants of the neighbouring districts invested. The
Venetian army passed the frontier; and, in effect, Buonaparte's means
of deriving supplies of any kind from his rear were for the time wholly
cut off. It was not wonderful that the Archduke should, under such
circumstances, anticipate great advantage from enticing the French army
into the heart of Austria; where, divided by many wide provinces and
mighty mountains and rivers from France, and with Italy once more in
arms behind them, they should have to abide the encounter of an imperial
army, animated by all the best motives that can lend vigour to the arm
of man; fighting for their own hearths under the eyes of their own
sovereign; seconded everywhere by the loyalty of the peasants; and well
convinced that, if they could compel their enemy to a retreat, his total
ruin must be the consequence.
The terror of the Aulic Council stepped in to prevent the Archduke from
reaping either the credit or the disgrace of this movement. Vienna was
panic-struck on hearing that Buonaparte had stormed the passes of the
Julian Alps; the imperial family sent their treasure into Hungary; the
middle ranks, whose interest is always peace, became clamorous for some
termination to a war, which during six years had been so unfortunate;
and the Archduke was ordered to avail himself of the first pretence
which circumstances might afford for the opening of a negotiation.
That prince had already, acting on his own judgment and feelings,
dismissed such an occasion with civility and with coldness. Napoleon had
addressed a letter to his Imperial Highness from Clagenfurt, in which he
called on him, as a brother soldier, to consider the certain miseries
and the doubtful successes of war, and put an end to the campaign by a
fair and equitable treaty. The Archduke replied, that he regarded with
the highest esteem the personal character of his correspondent, but that
the Austrian government had committed to his trust the guidance of a
particular army, not the diplomatic business of the empire. The prince,
on receiving these new instructions from Vienna, perceived, however
reluctantly, that the line of his duty was altered; and the result was a
series of negotiations--which ended in the provisional treaty of Leoben,
signed April 18, 1797.
It was here, at Leoben, that Buonaparte's schoolfellow, De Bourienne,
who had been summoned to act as secretary to the general, reached
headquarters. He found his old comrade (whom he had not met with since
the days of his envying small houses and cabriolets in Paris) in the
midst of a splendid staff. "So thou art come at last," cried Napoleon,
in the ancient tone of familiarity; but De Bourienne knew the world, and
greeted the general of the army of Italy with profound and distant
respect. When the company were gone, Buonaparte signified that he
understood and approved this change of demeanour.
But to resume--no sooner was the negotiation in a fair train, than
Napoleon, abandoning for the moment the details of its management to
inferior diplomatists, hastened to retrace his steps, and pour the full
storm of his wrath on the Venetians. The Doge and the Senate, whose only
hopes had rested on the successes of Austria on the Adige, heard with
utter despair that the Archduke had shared the fate of Beaulieu, of
Wurmser, and of Alvinzi, and that the preliminaries of peace were
actually signed. The rapidity of Buonaparte's return gave them no
breathing-time. They hastened to send offers of submission, and their
messengers were received with anger and contempt. "French blood has been
treacherously shed," said Napoleon; "if you could offer me the treasures
of Peru, if you could cover your whole dominion with gold--the atonement
would be insufficient--the lion of St. Mark[17] must lick the dust."
These tidings came like a sentence of death upon the devoted Senate.
Their deliberations were unceasing; their schemes innumerable; their
hearts divided and unnerved. Those secret chambers, from which that
haughty oligarchy had for so many ages excluded every eye and every
voice but their own, were invaded with impunity by strange-faced men,
who boldly criticised their measures, and heaped new terrors on their
heads, by announcing that the mass of the people had ceased to consider
the endurance of their sway as synonymous with the prosperity of Venice.
Popular tumults filled the streets and canals; universal confusion
prevailed. The commanders of their troops and fleets received
contradictory orders, and the city which
"--had held the gorgeous East in fee,"
seemed ready to yield everything to a ruthless and implacable enemy,
without even striking a blow in defence.
Buonaparte appeared, while the confusion was at its height, on the
opposite coast of the Lagoon. Some of his troops were already in the
heart of the city, when (31st May) a hasty message reached him,
announcing that the Senate submitted wholly. He exacted severe revenge.
The leaders who had aided the Lombard insurgents were delivered to him.
The oligarchy ceased to rule, and a democratical government was formed,
provisionally, on the model of France. Venice consented to surrender to
the victor large territories on the mainland of Italy; five ships of
war; 3,000,000 francs in gold, and as many more in naval stores; twenty
of the best pictures, and 500 manuscripts. Lastly, the troops of the
conqueror were to occupy the capital until tranquillity was established.
It will be seen in what that tranquillity was destined to consist.
Such was the humiliation of this once proud and energetic, but now
worn-out and enfeebled, oligarchy: so incapable was that hoary polity of
contending with the youthful vigour of Napoleon.
[Footnote 17: The armorial bearing of Venice.]