CHAPTER LII.

_Change in Napoleon's Principles of Government--Becomes suspicious

of Talleyrand and Fouché--Fouché endeavours, without the knowledge

of Napoleon, to ascertain the Views of England with respect to

Peace--His Plan is defeated by a singular collision with a similar

one of Napoleon--and Fouché is sent away as Governor-General of

Rome--His Moral and Political Character--Murmurings of the People

against the Austrian Alliance--Continental System--Ignorance of

Napoleon of the Actual Political Feelings of Great Britain--The

License System--Louis Buonaparte--Endeavours in vain to defend

Holland from the Effects of the Continental System--He abdicates the

Throne, and retires to Gratz in Styria--Holland is annexed to the

French Empire._

[Sidenote: CHANGES IN NAPOLEON'S GOVERNMENT.]

Since Buonaparte obtained, in 1804, the absolute rule of the French

Republic, a change had been gradually taking place in his principles of

government, and in the character of the statesmen whom he employed as

his ministers and advisers. For the first two years, and more, he had

governed on the principle of a limited monarch, who avails himself of

the best talents he can find among his subjects, and shows a deference

to those who are distinguished, either for the political part which they

have performed, or the share they possess in the good opinion of the

public. Among his advisers at this period, we find many of the leading

men of the Revolution; persons who, though they had been induced, from

various motives, to see the rise of Napoleon with equanimity, and even

to aid him, then their equal, in his attempt to climb to supreme power,

yet still remembered in what relation he and they had originally stood

to each other. In counselling an Emperor, these statesmen did it with

the more freedom, that they remembered a period when they were on a

level with him, nay, perhaps, when they stood a good deal higher.

This period of his reign, during which Napoleon suffered the wild and

powerful flights of his own ambition to be, in some degree, restrained

and directed by the judgment of others, formed the most laudable and

useful certainly, if not the most brilliant part of his career. But,

gradually as his power became augmented and consolidated, the Emperor

began to prefer that class of complaisant ministers, who would rather

reflect his own opinions, prefaced with additional recommendations and

arguments, than less courteously attempt to criticise and refute them.

The history of Napoleon justifies, or at least excuses him, for falling

into this natural error. He felt, and justly, that he was the sole

projector of his gigantic plans, and also, in a great measure, the agent

who carried them through; and he was led to believe, that, because he

did so much, he might as well do the whole. The schemes which he had

himself originally formed, were executed by his own military genius; and

thus it seemed as if the advice of counsellors, so indispensable to

other princes, might be unnecessary to a sovereign who had shown himself

all-sufficient alike in the cabinet and in the field. Yet this, though a

plausible, was a delusive argument, even though it appeared to be borne

out by the actual fact. It may be true, that in Buonaparte's councils,

few measures of consequence were suggested by his ministers, and that he

himself generally took the lead in affairs of importance. But still it

was of great consequence that such plans, having been proposed, should

be critically weighed, and canvassed by men of too much experience to be

deceived by appearances, and too much courage to be prevented from

speaking their mind. The advice of such men as Talleyrand and Fouché,

operated as a restraint upon schemes hastily adopted, or opinionatively

maintained; and their influence, though unseen and unheard, save in the

Imperial cabinet, might yet be compared to the keel of a vessel, which,

though invisible, serves to steady her among the waves, and regulate the

force by which she is propelled by her swelling canvass; or to the

pendulum of a time-piece, which checks and controls the mainspring of

the machinery. Yet, though Buonaparte must have been sensible of these

advantages, he was still more accessible to the feelings of jealousy,

which made him suspect that these statesmen were disposed rather to

establish separate interests for themselves in the government and

nation, than to hold themselves completely dependent on the Imperial

authority.

[Sidenote: TALLEYRAND--FOUCHÉ.]

The character of both Talleyrand and Fouché, indeed, authorised some

such suspicion. They had been distinguished in the French Revolution

before Napoleon's name had been heard of, were intimately acquainted

with all the springs which had moved it, and retained, as Buonaparte

might suspect, the inclination, and even the power, to interfere at some

possible state-crisis more effectually than accorded with his views of

policy. He had gorged them indeed with wealth; but, if he consulted his

own bosom, he might learn that wealth is but an indifferent compensation

for the loss of political power. In a word, he suspected that the great

services which Talleyrand rendered him with regard to foreign relations,

and Fouché as minister of police, were calculated to raise them into

necessary and indispensable agents, who might thus become, to a certain

degree, independent of his Authority. He doubted, moreover, that they

still kept up relations with a political society called Philadelphes,

consisting of old republicans and others, of different political creeds,

but who were united in their views of obtaining some degree of freedom,

either by availing themselves of such slender means of restraint as the

constitution, so carefully purged of every means of opposing the

Imperial will, might yet afford, or by waiting for some disaster

befalling Napoleon which might render their voice potential.[49]

The suspicions with which Buonaparte regarded his ministers did not rest

on vague conjecture. While he was in Spain, he received information,

appearing to indicate that a party was forming itself in the Legislative

Assembly, the bond connecting which was opposition to the Imperial will.

That body voted, it must be remembered, by ballot; and great was the

surprise and alarm of the assembly, when black balls, disapproving a

measure suggested to their consideration by government, were counted to

the number of an hundred and twenty-five, being a full third of the

members present.[50]

An official note, dated from Valladolid, 4th December, instantly

recalled the presumptuous dissentients to a sense that the power of

rejecting the laws laid before them in the Emperor's name, which they

had attempted thus boldly to exercise, was only intrusted to them for

show, but was meant to contain no really effectual power of control. The

words of Napoleon, the friend, as has been pretended, of liberal

institutions, are well worthy of remark. "Our evils," he said, "have

arisen in part from an exaggeration of ideas, which has tempted the

Legislative Body to consider itself as representing the nation; an idea

which is chimerical and even criminal, since implying a claim of

representation which is vested in the Emperor alone. The Legislative

Body ought to be called the Legislative Council--it does not possess the

right of making laws, since it has not the right of propounding them. In

the constitutional hierarchy, the Emperor, and the ministers his

organs, are the first representatives of the nation. If any other

pretensions, pretending to be constitutional, should pervert the

principles of our monarchical constitution, every thing is undone."[51]

This is all very intelligible, and shows that in principle, if not in

practice, the monarchical constitution of France rested upon the same

basis of despotism which supports the monarchical constitution of

Constantinople, where the Ulemats, or men of law, have an ostensible

title to resist the Grand Signior's edicts, and are only exposed to the

penalty of being pounded to death in a mortar, should they presume to

exercise it. Yet, a member of the French Legislative Body might have

been pardoned for being inquisitive on two subjects. 1st, He might wish

to know, if that body, chosen by the people, though indeed not directly,

did not represent their electors, whom was it that they did represent?

2dly, What was their real authority in the state, since they were not to

enjoy the power of rejecting the overtures which the constitution

contended should be laid before them, before they were passed into laws?

[Sidenote: FOUCHÉ.]

Buonaparte entertained strong suspicion that this recalcitrating humour,

so suddenly testified by so complaisant an assembly, must have had the

countenance of Talleyrand and of Fouché. So soon as he returned to

Paris, therefore, he sounded the latter minister on the revolt in the

Legislative Body, and desired his opinion on the sort of measures by

which he had repressed it. Fouché had been too long a spy upon the

private thoughts of others, to be capable of the weakness of betraying

his own. He expatiated, in a tone of panegyric, on the decisive tone of

the official note, affirmed that this was the only way to govern a

kingdom, and added, that if any constitutional body arrogated the right

of national representation, the sovereign had no choice but instantly to

dissolve it. "If Louis XVI. had acted thus," said the minister, "he

might have been alive, and King of France at this day." Astonished at

the zeal and promptitude of this reply, Buonaparte looked for an instant

with wonder at his minister, who thus avouched sentiments so different

from those which had governed the earlier part of his political life.

"And yet, Duke of Otranto," said the Emperor to the ex-jacobin,

"methinks you were yourself one of those whose voices sent Louis XVI. to

the scaffold?"--"I was," answered the supple statesman, without

confusion or hesitation; "and it was the first service which I had the

honour to render to your Majesty."[52]--This courtly answer saved the

minister for the moment; but Napoleon did not the less continue to see

in Fouché an object of suspicion and apprehension, whose power, owing to

his having been so long at the head of the police, was immense; whose

duplicity was unfathomable, and who evinced many indications of desiring

to secure some separate individual authority, either by being too

necessary to be dismissed, or too formidable to be offended.

Fouché himself has, indeed, admitted, that he endeavoured to regulate

the duties of his office, so as to secure as much power to himself as

possible, and was anxious, out of a desire of popularity, as well as

from respect for the virtue which he did not himself possess, to execute

those duties with the least possible harm to individuals. His mode of

transacting business with the Emperor was thus characteristically

described by himself. A person of rank, one of the _détenus_, desirous

of escaping from the durance in which he was confined, had been

fortunate enough to engage the interest of Fouché in his behalf. He had

received more than one intimation from this statesman, that his passport

would certainly be granted, but still it never received the Imperial

signature; and Fouché, who began to fear that his own sincerity might be

called in question, commenced one morning, in the presence of our

informer, and of one of the distinguished generals of the empire, the

following oblique explanation of the cause of his failure. "You no doubt

think yourself a brave man?" said he, addressing the general.--"Bah!"

replied the other, entering in to the same vein of raillery--"Brave?

brave as an hundred lions."--"But I," continued the statesman, "am much

braver than you. Look you, I desire some favour, the liberation of a

friend, or the like; I watch the happy moment of access, select the

moment of persuasion, am insinuating--eloquent--at length, by argument

or importunity, I am successful. Next day, the paper which should ratify

the boon which I had requested, is rejected when offered, torn perhaps,

or flung beneath a heap of petitions and supplications. Now, herein is

displayed my courage, which consists in daring again and again to

recommence the unacceptable suit, and, what is perhaps the last verge of

audacity, to claim it as a promise, which, being once pledged, can only

be redeemed by specific performance." In this confession we read the

account of a minister, still possessing influence, but declining in

favour, and already become the object of his sovereign's jealousy; to

whose personal request a favour cannot be decently refused, although a

promise, reluctantly conceded to importunity, is willingly forgotten, or

at length tardily and disobligingly granted.

Standing on these terms with a master at once watchful and jealous, we

cannot be surprised at the audacity of Fouché, who feared not to affect

a sort of independence, by anticipating the desires of Napoleon in the

public service, and even in the Imperial family. A striking instance of

the last occurred in his intrigue with Josephine on the subject of the

divorce;[53] and perhaps it was his escape out of that former

involvement,[54] without loss of power or credit, which urged him to a

second interference of a more public and national character, by which he

endeavoured to sound the possibility of accomplishing a peace with

England.

We may discover more than one motive for Fouché's proceeding in this

most important business without either the knowledge or consent of

Napoleon. He was aware that his master might have rendered it, in his

way of treating, impossible even at starting, to discover on what terms

Great Britain would conclude peace, by stating as preliminaries certain

concessions which it was probable would not be granted, but from which,

once stated, Napoleon could not himself recede. If, therefore, Fouché

could find some secret mode of ascertaining upon what terms a treaty

with England might really be obtained, he was doing a service to France,

to Britain, to Napoleon himself, and to the world. It is not the Duke of

Otranto, however, in particular, whom we would expect to incur disgrace,

and even personal hazard, on mere public grounds. But, besides the

pleasure which those who have long engaged in political intrigues find

in carrying them on, until the habit becomes as inveterate as that of

the gambler, we can see that Fouché might reasonably propose to himself

an important accession of influence by the success of such a

negotiation. If he could once acquire a knowledge of the price at which

Napoleon might obtain that peace for which the world sighed in vain, he

would become possessed of an influence over public opinion, both at home

and abroad, which could not but render him a person of extreme

importance; and if he was able to become the agent in turning such

knowledge to advantage, and negotiating such an important treaty, he

might fix himself even on Napoleon, as one of those ministers frequently

met with in history, whom their sovereign may have disliked, but could

not find means to dismiss.

[Sidenote: M. OUVRARD--FOUCHÉ.]

Acting upon such motives, or on others which we can less easily

penetrate, Fouché anxiously looked around, to consider what concessions

France might afford to make, to soothe the jealousy of England; trusting

it would be possible to come to some understanding with the British

Ministry, weakened by the loss of Mr. Canning, and disheartened by the

defeats sustained by the Spanish patriots, and the sinister event of the

Walcheren expedition. The terms which he would have been willing to have

granted, comprehended an assurance of the independence of the two

kingdoms of Holland and Spain (as if such a guarantee could have availed

any thing while these kingdoms had for sovereigns the brothers of

Napoleon, men reigning as his prefects, and, we shall presently see,

subject to removal at his pleasure,) together with the acknowledgment of

the Sicilian monarchy in the present King, and that of Portugal in the

House of Braganza. M. Ouvrard, a gentleman who had been permitted to go

to London on commercial business, was employed by Fouché to open this

delicate and furtive negotiation with the Marquis of Wellesley. But the

negotiation was disconcerted by a singular circumstance.[55]

The idea of endeavouring to know on what terms peace could be obtained,

had occurred to Napoleon as well as to Fouché; and the sovereign, on his

part, unsuccessful as he had been on two occasions in his attempt to

open a personal correspondence with the King of England, had followed

the steps of his minister, in making M. Labouchère, a commercial person,

agent of a great Dutch mercantile establishment, the medium of

communication with the British Government. The consequence was, that

Ouvrard, and the agent of the Emperor, neither of whom knew of the

other's mission, entered about the same time into correspondence with

the Marquis Wellesley, who, returned from his Spanish mission, was now

secretary at war. The British statesman, surprised at this double

application, became naturally suspicious of some intended deception, and

broke off all correspondence both with Ouvrard and his competitor for

the office of negotiator.[56]

Napoleon must naturally have been so highly incensed with Fouché for

tampering without his consent[57] in a matter of such vital consequence,

that one is almost surprised to find him limiting the effects of his

resentment to disgracing the minister. He sent for Fouché [June 2,] and

having extorted from him an avowal of his secret negotiation, he

remarked, "So, then, you make peace or war without my leave?"[58] The

consequence was, that the Duke of Otranto was deprived of his office of

minister of police, in which he was succeeded by Savary; and he was

shortly after sent into a species of honourable exile, in the character

of Governor-general of Rome.[59] It cost Buonaparte no little trouble to

redeem from the clutches of his late minister the confidential notes

which he had himself written to him upon affairs of police. For a long

time Fouché pretended that he had consigned these important documents to

the flames; and it was not until he had before his eyes the alternative

of submission or a dungeon, that he at length delivered up the Imperial

warrants, containing, no doubt, much that would have been precious to

history. Dismissed at present from the stage, we shall again meet with

this bold statesman at other periods of our history, when, as is

observed of some kinds of sea-fowl, his appearance seldom failed to

announce danger and tempest.

The character of Fouché, in point of principle or morality, could

scarcely be accounted even tolerable; but he had high talents, and in

many points the soundness of his judgment led him to pursue and

recommend moderate and beneficent measures, out of policy, if not from a

higher motive. On other accounts, also, many of the French had some

partiality to him; especially those who cast their eyes backward upon

their national history, and regretted the total loss of that freedom, so

eagerly longed for, so briefly possessed, and which they could never be

properly said to have enjoyed; and to the recovery of which, in part at

least, Fouché was understood to be favourable as far as he could or

dared. The remnant of the sterner Republicans might despise him as a

time server, yet they respected him, at the same time, as a relic of the

Revolution, and on different occasions experienced his protection. To

the Royalists also he had been courteous, and so decidedly so, as

encouraged one of the boldest agents of the Bourbons to penetrate to his

presence, and endeavour to bring him over to the cause of the exiled

family. Fouché dismissed him, indeed, with a peremptory refusal to

listen to his proposal; but he did not deliver him to the police, and he

allowed him twenty-four hours to leave the kingdom. These various

feelings occasioned to many, alarm and regret at the dismissal of the

Duke of Otranto.

The discharge of this able minister seemed the more portentous, that

shortly before it occurred, the terrible charge of which he was about to

be deprived, had received an alarming extension of jurisdiction. The

number of state prisons was extended from one, being the old tower of

Vincennes, to no less than six, situated in different parts of

France.[60] These Bastiles, chiefly old Gothic castles, were destined to

be the abode of captives, whom the Government described as persons who

could not be convicted of any crime perpetrated, but whom, as

entertaining dangerous thoughts, and principles, it was not safe to

permit to remain at large. The _lettre de cachet_, by authority of which

these victims of political suspicion were to be secluded from liberty,

was to consist in a decree of the Privy Council, which might have been

as well termed the pleasure of the Emperor. This measure was adopted on

the 3d of March, 1810, upon a report made to the Council of State in the

name of Fouché, and agreed to by them; but it was well understood, that,

in this and similar instances, the individual at the head of any

department was obliged to father the obloquy of such measures as

Napoleon desired to introduce into it. The minister of police was

therefore held guiltless of recommending an extension of the

Government's encroachments upon public liberty; which, in fact, were the

exclusive device of Napoleon and his Privy Council.[61]

[Sidenote: AUSTRIAN ALLIANCE UNPOPULAR.]

It was another unfortunate circumstance for Napoleon, that the observers

of the times ascribed the dismissal of the old Republican counsellors,

and the more rigorous measures adopted against political malecontents,

to the influence of the Austrian alliance. With many persons in France,

Buonaparte, as the Heir of the Revolution, might, like Danton,

Robespierre, and others, have exercised the most despotic authority,

providing he claimed his right to do so by and through the Revolution.

But they could not endure to see the Emperor Napoleon, while exercising

the same authority with a thousand times more lenity, attempt to improve

his right to the submission of his subjects by an alliance with one of

the ancient houses of Europe, against whom the principles of the

Revolution had declared eternal war. Every class of politicians has its

fanatics, and in that of the ancient Jacobins were many who would rather

have perished by the short, sharp terrors of the Republican guillotine,

than survived to linger in a dungeon during the pleasure of a son-in-law

of the Emperor of Germany. Such ideas, inconsistent as they were in

themselves, and utterly irreconcilable with the quiet, gentle, and

irreproachable character of Maria Louisa, who could never be justly

accused of even attempting to influence her husband upon any political

subject, circulated, nevertheless, and were even accredited in political

society. There was indeed this argument in their favour, that no other

motive could be assigned for Buonaparte's sparing Austria when she was

lying at his mercy, and choosing a partner out of her royal family, than

the desire of allying himself with the House of Hapsburg, and of gaining

such access as could be attained by such an alliance to a share in the

rights and privileges of the most ancient hereditary dynasty of Europe.

But in approaching to that fraternal alliance with legitimate royalty,

Napoleon proportionally abandoned those revolutionary principles and

associates, by whose means he had first climbed to power; and by this

change, rather of the basis of his authority than of the authority

itself, he offended many of the Republicans, without effectually gaining

the aristocrats, to whom his new connexion might have seemed a

recommendation. Indeed, when his right to sovereignty was considered

without reference to his possession, and his power to maintain it,

Napoleon was in some measure censured like the bat in the fable. The

democrats urged against him his matrimonial alliance with a house of the

ancient régime; while the aristocrats held him disqualified on account

of the origin of his power under the revolutionary system.

But although such objections existed among the zealots of both political

factions, the great body of the French people would have cared little on

what principle Napoleon had ascribed his title to the Imperial crown,

providing he had but been contented to allow the subject and himself the

advantage of a short repose from wars and conquests. This tranquillity,

however, was becoming every day less probable, for new incidents seemed

to dictate new acquisitions to the empire; and, unhappily for his own

and other countries, the opportunity of aggrandisement was with

Buonaparte all that it wanted to recommend it, and the pressure of the

occasion was always a complete justification of any measure which the

time rendered expedient.

That which now chiefly occupied him, since the overtures for peace with

England had been rendered abortive by the collision of his own

confidential emissary with that of Fouché, was the destruction of the

strength, and the sapping of the resources of that country, by dint of

enforcing and extending what he called the European Continental System;

which consisted of the abolition of all commerce, and the reducing each

nation, as in the days of primitive barbarism, to remain satisfied with

its own productions, however inadequate to the real or artificial wants

to which its progress in society had gradually given rise.

Like most foreigners, Napoleon understood little or nothing of the

constitutional opinions, or influential principles belonging to England.

He was well acquainted with human character, as modified by the

governments and customs of France and Italy; but this experience no more

qualified him to judge of the English character, than the most perfect

acquaintance with the rise and fall of the Mediterranean, amounting to

five or six inches in height, would prepare a navigator to buffet with

the powerful tides which burst and foam on the shores of the British

islands. The information which he received from that hostile country,

Buonaparte construed according to his wishes; and when it was supplied

by private intelligencers, they were of course desirous of enhancing the

value of what they told, by exaggerating its importance. It was, indeed,

no difficult task to impose on a statesman, ignorant enough of the

present state of North Britain, to believe that he could, even at this

time of day, have disturbed the security of the reigning family, by

landing in Scotland some candidate, having pretensions to the crown

through the House of Stuart. With the same inaccuracy, he concluded

every warm speech in Parliament a summons to revolt--every temporary

riot or testimony of popular displeasure, from whatever cause, a

commencement of open rebellion. He could not be convinced, that from the

peculiarity of the English constitution, and the temper of her people,

such disturbances and such violent debates must frequently exist; and

although, like eruptions on the human body, they are both unpleasant and

unseemly, they are yet the price at which sound internal health is

preserved.

[Sidenote: THE CONTINENTAL SYSTEM.]

Actuated by such erroneous views as we have stated, Napoleon conceived

that in 1810 he saw in England the important results of his Continental

System, or interdiction of British commerce with the continent.

The associations of the Luddites, as they were called, were at this time

giving great disturbance in the manufacturing districts of England.

These, it is well known, were framed to prevent the introduction of

looms wrought by machinery, or power-looms, to the superseding the

ordinary looms wrought by hand. The cause would have equally existed,

and the discontent also, if the Continental System had never been heard

of; for such discontent must and will exist in every trade where a

number of men are suddenly thrown out of employment by the introduction

of abbreviated means of labour. Yet Napoleon never doubted that these

heart-burnings, and the violence of the Parliamentary debates, arose

entirely from the new mode he had found of striking at Great Britain by

the destruction of her commerce. He, therefore, as we shall presently

see, examined all Europe, with the intention of shutting every creek and

fishing-port, through which cargoes of muslins or cotton goods could by

possibility penetrate; and the absolute authority which he could

exercise over the whole continent, with the exception of Russia, and of

the "still vexed" Peninsula, entitles us to compare him to the heedful

governor of a jail, who traverses his gloomy dominions at stated hours,

striking with his hammer every bar to ascertain that it rings sound, and

proving every lock, to see that no secret means of communication exists

with the free part of humanity. Thus commerce, the silken tie which

binds nations to each other, whose influence is so salutary to all

states, so essential to the very existence of many, was in danger of

being totally abrogated, unless in as far as it was carried on by a

system of licenses.

The adoption of this system, which went in a great measure to counteract

the effects of that very Continental System which he made it such an

especial point to press and enforce upon all neutral powers, was a

singular sacrifice made by Napoleon, partly to necessity, partly to the

desire of accumulating treasure.

The license system was a relaxation of the continental blockade, of

which England had set the example by giving protections to such neutral

vessels, as, clearing out from a British port, had a certain proportion

of their cargo made up of British goods or colonial produce. This was

what, in mercantile language, is termed a real transaction--the British

merchandise was purchased by such as designed to make a profit, by

selling it again upon any part of the continent to which they might be

able to introduce it. Buonaparte, in like manner, granted Imperial

licenses, purchased for large sums of money, by which trading vessels

were permitted to import a certain quantity of colonial produce, on

condition of exporting an equal proportion of French manufactures. This

system differed from that of England, in this important respect, that

the demand for articles of the French manufactures was entirely

simulated. The goods were not wanted in Britain, could not be re-sold

there without payment of heavy duties, and were often thrown into the

sea in preference to discharging the English duties upon them. Editions

of books, a commodity thus exported, and thus disposed of, were wittily

said to be _ad usum Delphini_. The prime cost at which these French

goods had been purchased, in compliance with Buonaparte's regulations,

was of course laid upon the colonial goods, which were the only actual

subject of trade. Thus, if the French manufacturers derived any profit

from the transaction, it was raised, not by their goods being exported

and sold in foreign countries, in the usual course of trade, but by the

prime cost being imposed as a tax upon the colonial produce imported;

and the price was paid, of course, not by the foreign market, which the

goods seldom reached, but by the French consumers of sugar, rum, and

coffee.

The real temptation for continuing this attempt to force a trade, was,

as we have seen, the impossibility of dispensing with colonial produce

entirely, and the large revenue accruing to the French government from

these licenses, who, in this manner, exercising a complete monopoly in a

trade which they interdicted to all others, made immense additions to

the treasure which almost choked the vaults of the pavilion Marsan, in

the Tuileries. The language held by the minister of Napoleon to the

powers thus affected, amounted therefore to the following

proposition:--"You shall shut your ports against British commodities;

for without your doing so, it will be impossible for the Emperor

Napoleon to humble the Mistress of the Seas. But while you are thus

deprived of all commerce, whether passive or active, Napoleon reserves

to himself, by the system of license, the privilege of purchasing and

dealing in the commodities of Britain and her colonies, which, reaching

your country by any other mode than through his permission, will be

subject to confiscation, nay, to destruction."

At a later period, Buonaparte greatly regretted that he had suffered the

emolument derived from the license-trade, to seduce him into relaxing

his Continental System.[62] He seems to lament having relinquished his

supposed advantage, as a vindictive freebooter might regret his having

been reduced to let go his hold on his enemy's throat, by the tempting

opportunity of plunging his hand into the pocket of a bystander. The

injustice which thus imposed on neutrals the necessity of abstaining

from a lucrative commerce, which France, the belligerent power, reserved

to herself the privilege of carrying on, in such degree as she might

find convenient, was of so crying a description, that, at any other time

than during the irresistible ascendency of Napoleon, the very mention of

it would have revolted all Europe. And even as times stood, the

non-compliance with terms so harsh and unjust, cost the fall of two

European thrones, ere it became the means of undermining that of

Napoleon himself.

[Sidenote: LOUIS BUONAPARTE.]

The first of the royal sufferers was the brother of Napoleon, Louis

Buonaparte, who had been created King of Holland. By every account which

we have been able to collect, Louis was an amiable, well-intentioned,

and upright man, of a romantic disposition, and a melancholic

complexion, which he had increased by studying the sentimental

philosophy of Rousseau.[63] But he was, in his brother's language, an

ideologist; that is, one who is disposed to do that which is right

according to principle, rather than that which circumstances render

expedient. He was embarrassed by some family disputes, and lived on

indifferent terms with his wife,[64] who was a greater favourite with

Napoleon than was Louis himself. Since he had been under the necessity

of accepting the crown of Holland, he had endeavoured to afford that

country all the protection which could be derived from his near

relationship to Napoleon; and if he could not save his subjects entirely

from the evils of a conquered and dependent state, he endeavoured to

diminish these as much as his means permitted. The Dutch, a calm and

deliberate people, gave Louis full credit for his efforts, and, in

general, regarded him as their friend and protector. But at the period

we treat of, the evils which approached their state were far beyond

Louis' power to avert or even to modify. Other countries may have more

or less of a commercial character, but Holland exists by commerce

entirely. It was the influence of commerce which gained her amphibious

territory from the waves, and, were that influence withdrawn, her fair

towns must again become fishing villages; her rich pastures must return

to their original state of salt-water marshes, shallows, and sand-banks.

The French exactions already paid, to the amount of one hundred millions

of francs, had purchased, as the natives of Holland fondly imagined,

some right to exert the small means of commerce which remained to them,

and which, under King Louis' sanction, were almost entirely engaged in

traffic with England, now declared contraband.

Napoleon used threats and commands to induce Louis to bring his subjects

to a more rigorous observance of the Continental System, while Louis

employed expostulation and entreaty in behalf of the nation over whom he

had been called to rule. Each brother grew more obstinate in his

opinion, and at length, as the Emperor began to see that neither fear

nor favour could induce Louis to become the agent of oppression in

Holland, his removal from that country was distinctly pointed at as the

consequence of his obstinacy. It was intimated, in a report by

Champagny, the Duke de Cadore, that the situation of Louis on the throne

of Holland was rendered critical, by his feelings being divided betwixt

the imprescriptible duties which he owed to France and to his family,

and the interest which it was natural he should take in the welfare of

Dutch commerce. To terminate this strife in his brother's mind, the

report informed the public that Napoleon meant to recall the prince of

his blood whom he had placed on the Dutch throne, since the first duty

of a French prince having a place in the succession to that monarchy,

was to France exclusively; and it was intimated, that Holland, divested

of her King, and her nominal independence, would be reduced to the

condition of a province of France, occupied by French troops, and

French officers of the revenue; and thus deprived of the means of

thwarting the Continental System, so necessary for the subjugation of

Britain, by the obstinate continuance of commercial intercourse with a

nation under the ban of the empire.[65]

[Sidenote: HOLLAND--ABDICATION OF LOUIS BUONAPARTE.]

This report is peculiarly interesting, as explanatory of Buonaparte's

views respecting the rights and regal authority of the sovereigns whom

he created and displaced at pleasure, as the interests of France, or

rather as his own, required, or seemed to require. Either, however,

Napoleon became, for the moment, ashamed to acknowledge this fact so

broadly; or he thought that such a contradiction of his repeated

declarations might have a bad effect upon the Westphalian subjects of

Jerome, and upon the Spaniards, whom he desired to become those of

Joseph; or, perhaps, the remonstrances of Louis produced some temporary

effect upon his mind; for he stopped short in his full purpose, and on

the 16th March concluded a treaty with Louis, the terms of which were

calculated, it was said, to arrange disputed points betwixt the

sovereigns, and render the independence of Holland consistent with the

necessary conformity to the Continental System.

[Sidenote: July 1.]

By this treaty, Zealand, Dutch Brabant, and the whole course of the

Rhine, as well the right as the left bank, were transferred from Holland

to France. French officers of the customs were to be placed in all the

Dutch harbours; 18,000 troops were to be maintained by the kingdom of

Holland, of whom 6000 were to be French; a fleet was to be fitted out by

the same kingdom for the service of France; English manufactures were to

be prohibited by the Dutch government; and other restrictions were

subscribed to by Louis,[66] in hopes his brother's stern resolution

might be so far softened as to leave the remaining portions of the

territories of Holland in a state of nominal independence. But he was

soon made sensible that this was no part of Napoleon's intentions.

Instead of 6000 French troops, 20,000 were assembled at Utrecht, with

the purpose of being poured into Holland. Instead of this foreign

soldiery being stationed on the coasts, where alone their presence could

be requisite to prevent the contraband trade, which was the sole pretext

of introducing them at all, Louis was informed, that they were to take

military possession of the whole country; and that the headquarters of

this army, which was totally independent of his authority, were to be

established at Amsterdam, his capital.

Seeing himself thus deprived by his brother of all power in the kingdom

which was still called his, Louis generously refused to play the pageant

part of a monarch, who could neither exert his rights nor protect his

subjects. On the 1st of July he executed a deed of abdication in favour

of his son, then a minor, expressing an affectionate hope, that though

he himself had been so unhappy as to offend his brother the Emperor, he

would not, nevertheless, visit with his displeasure his innocent and

unoffending family. In a letter from Haarlem, dated the 1st July, Louis

enlarged on the causes of his abdication, in a manner honourable to his

head and his heart, and with a moderation, when he spoke of his brother,

which gave weight to his just complaints. "He could not," he said,

"consent to retain the mere title of King, separated from all real

authority in his kingdom, his capital, or even his palace. He should be,

in such a case, the witness of all that passed, without the power of

influencing the current of events for the good of his people, yet

remaining responsible for evils which he could neither remedy nor

prevent. He had long foreseen the extremity to which he was now reduced,

but could not avoid it without sacrificing his most sacred duties,

without ceasing to bear at heart the happiness of his people, and to

connect his own fate with that of the country. This," he said, "was

impossible. Perhaps," he continued, "I am the only obstacle to the

reconciliation of Holland with France. Should that prove the case, I may

find some consolation in dragging out the remainder of a wandering and

languishing life, at a distance from my family, my country, and the good

people of Holland, so lately my subjects."[67]

Having finished his vindication, and adjusted means for making it

public, which he could only do by transmitting it to England, the

Ex-King of Holland entertained a chosen party of friends at his palace

at Haarlem until near midnight, and then, throwing himself into a plain

carriage which was in attendance, left behind him the kingly name and

the kingly revenue, rather than hold them without the power of

discharging the corresponding duties of a sovereign. Louis retired to

Gratz, in Styria, where he lived in a private manner, upon a moderate

pension,[68] amusing his leisure with literature.[69] His more ambitious

consort, with a much more ample revenue, settled herself at Paris, where

her wit and talents, independent of her connexion with Napoleon,

attracted around her the world of fashion, of which she was a

distinguished ornament.

Buonaparte, as was to have been expected, paid no regard to the claim of

Louis's son, in whose favour his father had abdicated. He created that

young person Grand Duke of Berg, and, although he was yet a child, he

took an opportunity to make him a speech, which we have elsewhere

adverted to, in which, after inculpating the conduct of his brother, the

tenor of which he stated could be accounted for by _malady_ alone,[70]

he explained in few words the duties incurred by his satellite

sovereigns. "Never forget, that whatever position you may be required to

occupy, in order to conform to my line of politics, and the interest of

my empire, your first duty must always regard ME, your second must have

reference to France. All your other duties, even those towards the

countries which I commit to your charge, are secondary to these primary

obligations."

Thus was the leading principle clearly announced, upon which the nominal

independence of kingdoms allied to France was in future to be understood

as resting. The monarchs, to whom crowns were assigned, were but to be

regarded as the lieutenants of the kingdoms in which they ruled; and

whatever part the interest of their dominions might call upon them to

act, they were still subject, in the first instance, to the summons and

control of their liege lord the Emperor, and compelled to prefer what

his pleasure should term the weal of France, to every other call of duty

whatever.

[Sidenote: HOLLAND ANNEXED TO FRANCE.]

The fate of Holland was not long undecided. Indeed, it had probably been

determined on as far back as Champagny's first report, in which it had

been intimated, that Holland, with all its provinces, was to become an

integral part of France. This was contrary to the pledge given by

Napoleon to the Senate, that the Rhine should be considered as the

natural boundary of France; nor was it less inconsistent with his

pretended determination, that the independence of Holland should be

respected and maintained. But both these engagements yielded to the

force of the reasoning used by his mouth-piece Champagny, in

recommending the union of Holland with the French empire, and with

France itself. They are worth quoting, were it only to show how little

men of sense are ashamed to produce the weakest and most inconsistent

arguments, when they speak as having both the power and the settled

purpose to do wrong. "Holland," said the minister, whose very effrontery

renders his arguments interesting; "is in a manner an emanation from the

territory of France, and is necessary to the full complement of the

empire. To possess the entire Rhine," (which had been proposed as the

natural boundary of France,) "your majesty must extend the frontier to

the Zuyder-Zee. Thus the course of all the rivers which arise in France,

or which bathe her frontier, will belong to her as far as the sea. To

leave in the hands of strangers the mouths of our rivers, would be,

Sire, to confine your power to an ill-bounded monarchy, instead of

extending its dominions to the natural limits befitting an imperial

throne." On such precious reasoning (much on a par with the claim which

Napoleon set up to Great Britain as the natural appendage of France,

along with the isle of Oleron,) Holland was, 9th July, 1810, declared an

integral part of the French empire.

But the usurpation was not unavenged. It cost Buonaparte a greater

declension in public opinion than had arisen even from his unprincipled

attempts on Spain. It is true, none of the bloody and extensively

miserable consequences had occurred in Holland, which had been

occasioned by the transactions at Bayonne. But the seizure of Holland

brought Buonaparte's worst fault, his ambition, before the public, in a

more broad and decided point of view.[71]

There were people who could endure his robbing strangers, who were yet

shocked that he, so fond of his kindred, and in general so liberal to

them, should not have hesitated to dethrone his own brother, merely for

entertaining sentiments becoming the rank to which he had been raised by

himself; to disinherit his nephew; to go nigh taxing so near a relation

with mental imbecility; and all on so slight a provocation;--for the

only real point of difference, that, viz. respecting the English

commerce, had been yielded by Louis in the treaty which Napoleon had

signed, but only, it seemed, for the purpose of breaking it. It was

observed, too, that in the manly, but respectful opposition made by

Louis to his brother's wishes, there appeared nothing to provoke the

displeasure of Napoleon, though one of the most irritable of men on

subjects with which his ambition was implicated. It seemed a species of

gratuitous violence, acted as if to show that no circumstance of

relationship, family feeling, or compassion (to make no mention of

justice or moderation,) could interfere with or check the progress of

Napoleon's ambition; and whilst the more sanguine prophesied, that he

who ran so rashly, might one day run himself to a close, all agreed that

his empire, composed of such heterogeneous parts, could not, in all

probability, survive the mortal date of the founder, supposing it to

last so long. In the meantime, it was evident, that the condition of no

state, however solemnly guaranteed by Buonaparte himself, could be

considered as secure or free from change while it was subject to his

influence. To conclude the whole, the Dutch were informed by the Emperor

with bitter composure, that "he had hoped to unite them to France as

allies, by giving them a prince of his own blood as a ruler; that his

hopes, however, had been deceived; and that he had shown more

forbearance than consisted with his character, or than his rights

required;"--thus intimating some farther and unexpressed severity, which

he might have felt himself justified in adding to the virtual exile of

his brother, and the confiscation of his late dominions; and

insinuating, that the Dutch had escaped cheaply with the loss of their

separate national existence.

FOOTNOTES:

[49] Southey, vol. iii., p. 405; Fouché, tom. i., p. 339.

[50] Fouché, tom. i., p. 329.

[51] Fouché, tom. i., p. 329.

[52] Mémoires de Fouché, tom. i., p. 331.

[53] Fouché, tom. i., p. 32.

[54] "It is well known that Josephine never spoke to the Emperor

otherwise than in favourable terms of all those who were about his

person; she was even of service to M. Fouché, though he had attempted to

become the instrument for bringing about her divorce."--SAVARY, tom.

ii., p. 178.

[55] "Although Sir Walter Scott does not mention me, I am able to speak

pertinently to this affair: the following is the truth. I went to Paris

in 1809, against my inclination, to comply with the wish of the

principal Dutch, who imagined that I could prevent, or at least adjourn

by my presence in Paris, and my immediate efforts, the evident intention

of seizing upon Holland. During my stay at Paris, I was persuaded that

all the tricks, the attacks, and ill-treatment, of which I was the

object, had not for their real end the union of Holland, since it was

the interest of France to aggrandise that kingdom, but that it was a

political stratagem, to induce the English government to repeal its

decrees of council, and to conclude the peace; and I was therefore

prevailed upon while at Paris to send M. Labouchère from Amsterdam to

London with instructions to make known to the Marquis Wellesley, that if

England did not withdraw its decrees of council, the union of Holland

with France was inevitable. The reply of the marquis proved at once how

favourable my government in Holland had been to France, since the

English Government declared, 'that the fate of Holland could not fail to

occasion much interest in England; but that, in the present state of

that country, the influence of France was so entire there, that the

political change spoken of, must have some weight in the determination

of the British Cabinet.' This attempt having proved useless, I could

only succeed in delaying the union of Holland, the decree for which

being prepared beforehand, and always in readiness, was often placed

before me--by sacrificing Brabant and Zealand. After my return to

Amsterdam, I was requested to allow M. Ouvrard a passage to England. I

consented to this the more willingly, as I imagined that it was in

consequence of the step I had already taken in sending M. Labouchère to

London. A short time after, the Emperor visited Antwerp. Whilst

conversing with him there, I assured him that there had been no

communication with England except that which had taken place through M.

Ouvrard, according to his request. My astonishment was extreme on

learning, that not only it was without his request, but that he was

ignorant of it, and from that moment he determined on the discharge of

M. Fouché, who had allowed so singular a proceeding."--LOUIS BUONAPARTE,

p. 65.

[56] Fouché, tom. i., p. 354; Savary, tom. ii., part ii., p. 208.

[57] "Ah, Fouché! how well the Emperor knew you, when he said, that your

ugly foot was sure to be thrust in every body's shoes."--LAS CASES, tom.

ii., p. 18.

[58] "Napoleon left the council, and gave orders to Savary to arrest M.

Ouvrard; at the same time, I was forbidden to have any communication

with the prisoner. The next day the portfolio of the police was given to

Savary. This time it was a real disgrace."--FOUCHÉ, tom. i., p. 358.

[59] "The decree constituting Fouché Governor-general of Rome, bears

date June 3, 1810. 'This nomination,' says Fouché, 'was nothing but an

honourable veil woven by Napoleon's policy, in order to conceal and

mitigate, in the eyes of the public, my disgrace, of which his intimates

alone had the secret."--_Mémoires_, tom. ii., p. 7.

[60] Saumar, Ham, Landskaone, Pierre-Châtel, and Fennestrelles.

[61] Fouché, tom. i., p. 352.

[62] Las Cases, tom. ii., p. 283.

[63] See _ante_, vol. ii., p. 211, _note_. "Louis had been spoiled by

reading the works of Rousseau."--NAPOLEON, _Las Cases_, tom. ii., p.

306.

[64] "As Louis and Hortensia had lived almost always separate since

their marriage, except three short periods of a few months, they each

demanded of the family council a separation, presently after Louis

arrived at Paris in 1809. But after a meeting of the said council was

granted, the separation was refused, though it had long existed in point

of fact. He was informed of the refusal verbally: no document whatever

was transmitted to him on a result, on which however depended the ease,

condition, and fame of a man of honour."--LOUIS BUONAPARTE, _La

Hollande_, tom. iii., p. 199.

[65] Documens Historiques sur la Hollande, tom. iii., p. 238.

[66] "This treaty, which was rather a capitulation, was imposed by the

Emperor, signed by Verhueil, and ratified conditionally by the King, who

added the words, '_as far as possible_.'"--LOUIS BUONAPARTE, _Documens

Hist._, tom. iii., p. 248.

[67] Documens Historiques, tom. iii., p. 310.

[68] "This is not correct. I did not, nor could not, receive a pension

from any one: my revenue was derived principally from the sale of my

decorations and jewels, and the interest of the obligations I had taken

upon me, in order to encourage the loan from Holland to Prussia at the

time of the greatest misfortunes of the virtuous sovereign of that

country, who, in spite of all opposition and every political

consideration, was anxious to acquit himself towards me with scrupulous

exactitude."--LOUIS BUONAPARTE, p. 69.

[69] In 1808, Louis gave to the world a sentimental romance, called

"Marie, ou les Peines de l'Amour," of which a second edition appeared in

1814, under the title of "Marie, ou les Hollandaises." A distinguished

critic describes the royal production as "a farrago of dulness, folly,

and bad taste."--(_Quart. Rev._, vol. xii., p. 391.) His treatise,

entitled "Documens Historiques, et Réflexions sur le Gouvernement de la

Hollande," is an unpresuming account of his administration in Holland.

[70] "The conduct of your father grieves me to the heart: his disorder

alone can account for it. When you are grown up you will pay his debt

and your own."--_Documens Hist._, tom. iii., p. 326; and _Moniteur_,

July 23, 1810. "When Napoleon received the news of his brother's

abdication, he was struck with astonishment: he remained silent for a

few moments, and after a kind of momentary stupor, suddenly appeared to

be greatly agitated. His heart was ready to burst, when he exclaimed,

'Was it possible to suspect so mischievous a conduct in the brother most

indebted to me.' When I was a mere lieutenant of artillery, I brought

him up with the scanty means which my pay afforded me I divided my bread

with him; and this is the return he makes for my kindness!' The Emperor

was so overpowered by his emotion, that his grief was said to have

vented itself in sobs."--SAVARY, tom. ii., part ii., p. 239.

[71] Napoleon acknowledged at St. Helena, that the "annexation of Louis'

kingdom to his own was a measure which contributed to ruin his credit in

Europe."--LAS CASES, tom. ii., p. 307.

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