_Preparations of Napoleon against the Invasion of France--Terms of
Peace offered by the Allies--Congress held at Manheim--Lord
Castlereagh--Manifesto of the Allies--Buonaparte's Reply--State of
Parties in France--The population of France, in general, wearied of
the War, and desirous of the Deposition of Buonaparte--His
unsuccessful attempts to arouse the national spirit--Council of
State Extraordinary held Nov. 11th, when new taxes are imposed, and
a new Conscription of 300,000 men decreed--Gloom of the Council, and
violence of Buonaparte--Report of the State of the Nation presented
to Napoleon by the Legislative Body--The Legislative Body is
prorogued--Unceasing activity of the Emperor--National Guard called
out--Napoleon, presenting to them his Empress and Child, takes leave
of the People--He leaves Paris for the Armies._
While these scenes were passing in the vicinity of France, the Emperor
was using every effort to bring forward, in defence of her territory, a
force in some degree corresponding to the ideas which he desired men
should entertain of the great nation. He distributed the seventy or
eighty thousand men whom he had brought back with him, along the line of
the Rhine, unmoved by the opinions of those who deemed them insufficient
in number to defend so wide a stretch of frontier. Allowing the truth of
their reasoning, he denied its efficacy in the present instance. Policy
now demanded, he said, that there should be no voluntary abatement of
the lofty pretensions to which France laid claim. The Austrians and
Prussians still remembered the campaigns of the Revolution, and dreaded
to encounter France once more in the character of an armed nation. This
apprehension was to be kept up as long as possible, and almost at all
risks. To concentrate his forces would be to acknowledge his weakness,
to confess that he was devoid of means to supply the exhausted
battalions; and what might be still more imprudent, it was making the
nation itself sensible of the same melancholy truth; so that, according
to this reasoning, it was necessary to keep up appearances, however ill
seconded by realities. The allied sovereigns, on the other hand, were
gradually approaching to the right bank of the Rhine their immense
masses, which, including the reserves, did not, perhaps, amount to less
than half a million of men.
The scruples of the Emperor of Austria, joined to the respect
entertained for the courage of the French, and the talents of their
leader, by the coalition at large, influenced their councils at this
period, and before resuming a train of hostilities which must involve
some extreme conclusion, they resolved once more to offer terms of peace
to the Emperor of France.
The agent selected on this occasion was the Baron de St. Aignan,[297] a
French diplomatist of reputation, residing at one of the German courts,
who, falling into the hands of the allies, was set at liberty, with a
commission to assure the French Emperor of their willingness to enter
into a treaty on equal terms. The English Government also publicly
announced their readiness to negotiate for a peace, and that they would
make considerable concessions to obtain so great a blessing.[298]
Napoleon, therefore, had another opportunity for negotiating, upon such
terms as must indeed deprive him of the unjust supremacy among European
councils which he had attempted to secure, but would have left him a
high and honourable seat among the sovereigns of Europe. But the
pertinacity of Napoleon's disposition qualified him ill for a
negotiator, unless when he had the full power in his own hand to dictate
the terms. His determined firmness of purpose, in many cases a great
advantage, proved now the very reverse, as it prevented him from
anticipating absolute necessity, by sacrificing, for the sake of peace,
something which it was actually in his power to give or retain. This
tenacity was a peculiar feature of his character. He might, indeed, be
brought to give up his claims to kingdoms and provinces which were
already put beyond his power to recover; but when the question regarded
the cession of any thing which was still in his possession, the grasp of
the lion itself could scarce be more unrelaxing. Hence, as his
misfortunes accumulated, the negotiations between him and the allies
came to resemble the bargain driven with the King of Rome, according to
ancient history, for the books of the Sibyls. The price of peace, like
that of those mysterious volumes, was raised against him upon every
renewal of the conferences. This cannot surprise any one who considers,
that in proportion to the number of defeats sustained and power
diminished, the demands of the party gaining the advantage must
naturally be heightened.
This will appear from a retrospect to former negotiations. Before the
war with Russia, Napoleon might have made peace upon nearly his own
terms, providing they had been accompanied with a disavowal of that
species of superior authority, which, by the display of his armies on
the frontiers of Poland, he seemed disposed to exercise over an
independent and powerful empire. There was nothing left to be disputed
between the two Emperors, excepting the point of equality, which it was
impossible for Alexander to yield up, in justice to himself and to his
subjects.
[Sidenote: CONGRESS AT PRAGUE.]
The Congress at Prague was of a different complexion. The fate of war,
or rather the consequence of Napoleon's own rashness, had lost him an
immense army, and had delivered from his predominant influence, both
Prussia and Austria; and these powers, united in alliance with Russia
and England, had a title to demand, as they had the means of enforcing,
such a treaty as should secure Prussia from again descending into a
state which may be compared to that of Helots or Gibeonites; and Austria
from one less directly dependent, but by the continuance of which she
was stripped of many fair provinces, and exposed along her frontier to
suffer turmoil from all the wars which the too well-known ambition of
the French empire might awaken in Germany. Yet even then the terms
proposed by Prince Metternich stipulated only the liberation of Germany
from French influence, with the restoration of the Illyrian provinces.
The fate of Holland, and that of Spain, were remitted till a general
peace, to which England should be a party. But Buonaparte, though Poland
and Illyria might be considered as lost, and the line of the Elbe and
Oder as indefensible against the assembled armies of the allies, refused
to accept these terms, unless clogged with the condition that the Hanse
Towns should remain under French influence; and did not even transmit
this qualified acquiescence to a treaty, until the truce appointed for
the purpose of the congress had expired.[299]
After gaining six battles, and after the allies had redeemed their
pledge, that they would not hear of farther negotiation while there was
a French soldier in Germany, except as a prisoner, or as belonging to
the garrison of a blockaded fortress, it was natural that the demands of
the confederated sovereigns should rise; more especially as England, at
whose expense the war had been in a great measure carried on, was become
a party to the conferences, and her particular objects must now be
attended to in their turn.
The terms, therefore, proposed to Napoleon, on which peace and the
guarantee of his dynasty might be obtained, had risen in proportion to
the success of his enemies.
The Earl of Aberdeen,[300] well known for his literature and talents,
attended, on the part of Great Britain, the negotiations held with the
Baron St. Aignan. The basis of the treaty proposed by the allies
were--That France, divesting herself of all the unnatural additions with
which the conquests of Buonaparte had invested her, should return to her
natural limits, the Rhine, the Alps, and the Pyrenees, which of course
left her in possession of the rich provinces of Belgium. The
independence of Italy, Germany, and Holland, were absolutely stipulated.
Spain, whom the power of Great Britain, seconded by her own efforts, had
nearly freed of the French yoke, was to be in like manner restored to
independence, under Ferdinand.
Such were the outlines of the terms proposed. But it is generally
admitted, that if Buonaparte had shown a candid wish to close with them,
the stipulations might have been modified, so as to be more agreeable to
him than they sounded in the abstract. There were ministers in the
cabinet of the allied sovereigns who advised an acquiescence in Eugene
Beauharnois, of whom a very favourable opinion was entertained, being
received as King of the upper part of Italy, while Murat retained the
southern half of that peninsula. The same counsellors would not have
objected to holding Holland as sufficiently independent, if the
conscientious Louis Buonaparte were placed at its head. As for Spain,
its destinies were now beyond the influence of Napoleon, even in his own
opinion, since he was himself treating with his captive at Valençay, for
re-establishing him on the throne. A treaty, therefore, might possibly
have been achieved by help of skilful management, which, while it
affirmed the nominal independence of Italy and Holland, would have left
Napoleon in actual possession of all the real influence which so
powerful a mind could have exercised over a brother, a step-son, and a
brother-in-law, all indebted to him for their rise to the rank they
held. His power might have been thus consolidated in the most formidable
manner, and his empire placed in such security, that he could fear no
aggression on any quarter, and had only to testify pacific intentions
towards other nations, to ensure the perfect tranquillity of France, and
of the world.
But it did not suit the high-soaring ambition of Napoleon to be
contented with such a degree of power as was to be obtained by
negotiation. His favourite phrase on such occasions, which indeed he had
put into the mouth of Maria Louisa upon a recent occasion,[301] was,
that he could not occupy a throne, the glory of which was tarnished.
This was a strange abuse of words; for if his glory was at all impaired,
as in a military point of view it certainly was, the depreciation arose
from his having lost many great battles, and could not be increased by
his acquiescing in such concessions as his defeat rendered necessary.
The loss of a battle necessarily infers, more or less, some censure on
the conduct of a defeated general; but it can never dishonour a
patriotic prince to make such sacrifices as may save his people from the
scourge of a protracted and losing warfare. Yet let us do justice to the
memory of a man so distinguished. If a merited confidence in the zeal
and bravery of his troops, or in his own transcendent abilities as a
general, could justify him in committing a great political error, in
neglecting the opportunity of securing peace on honourable terms, the
events of the strangely varied campaign of 1814 show sufficiently the
ample ground there was for his entertaining such an assurance.
[Sidenote: LORD CASTLEREAGH.]
At this period, Maret, Duke of Bassano, invited the allies to hold a
congress at Manheim, for considering the preliminaries of peace; and, on
the part of Great Britain, Lord Castlereagh, a cabinet minister, was
sent over to represent her on this important occasion. Faction, which in
countries where free discussion is permitted, often attaches its censure
to the best and worthiest of those to whose political opinions it is
opposed, has calumniated this statesman during his life, and even after
his death. This is one of the evils at the expense of which freedom is
purchased; and it is purchased the more cheaply, that the hour of
confutation fails not to come. Now, when his power can attract no
flattery, and excite no odium, impartial history must write on the tomb
of Castlereagh, that his undaunted courage, manly steadiness, and deep
political sagacity, had the principal share in infusing that spirit of
continued exertion and unabated perseverance into the councils of the
allies, which supported them through many intervals of doubt and
indecision, and finally conducted them to the triumphant conclusion of
the most eventful contest which Europe ever saw.[302]
In the meanwhile, both parties proclaimed their anxiety for peace, well
aware of the advantageous opinion, which the French public in particular
could not fail to entertain of that party, which seemed most disposed to
afford the world the blessings of that state of rest and tranquillity,
which was now universally sighed for.
A manifesto was published by the allied monarchs,[303] in which they
complain, unreasonably certainly, of the preparations which Buonaparte
was making for recruiting his army, which augmentation of the means of
resistance, whether Napoleon was to look to peace or war, was equally
justifiable when the frontiers of France were surrounded by the allied
armies. The rest of this state paper was in a better, because a truer
tone. It stated, that victory had brought the allies to the Rhine, but
they meant to make no farther use of their advantages than to propose to
Napoleon a peace, founded on the independence of France, as well as upon
that of every other country. "They desired," as this document stated,
"that France should be great, powerful, and happy, because the power of
France is one of the fundamental bases of the social system in Europe.
They were willing to confirm to her an extent of territory, greater than
she enjoyed under her ancient kings; but they desired, at the same time,
that Europe should enjoy tranquillity. It was, in short, their object to
arrange a pacification on such terms as might, by mutual guarantees, and
a well-arranged balance of power, preserve Europe in future from the
numberless calamities, which, during twenty years, had distracted the
world." This public declaration seemed intended to intimate, that the
war of the coalition was not as yet directed against the person of
Napoleon, or his dynasty, but only against his system of arbitrary
supremacy. The allies further declared, that they would not lay down
their arms until the political state of Europe should be finally
arranged on unalterable principles, and recognised by the sanctity of
treaties.
[Sidenote: REPLY TO THE MANIFESTO.]
The reply of Buonaparte to Maret's proposition, is contained in a letter
from Caulaincourt to Metternich, dated 2d December. It declared that
Buonaparte acquiesced in the principle which should rest the proposed
pacification on the absolute independence of the states of Europe, so
that neither one nor another should in future arrogate sovereignty or
supremacy in any form whatsoever, either upon land or sea. It was
therefore declared, that his Majesty adhered to the general bases and
abstracts communicated by M. St. Aignan. "They will involve," the letter
added, "great sacrifices on the part of France, but his Majesty would
make them without regret, if, by like sacrifices, England would give the
means of arriving at a general peace, honourable for all
concerned."[304]
The slightest attention to this document shows that Napoleon, in his
pretence of being desirous for peace on the terms held out in the
proposals of the allies, was totally insincere. His answer was artfully
calculated to mix up with the diminution of his own exorbitant power,
the question of the maritime law, on which England and all other nations
had acted for many centuries, and which gives to those nations that
possess powerful fleets, the same advantage, which those that have great
armies enjoy by the law martial. The rights arising out of this law
maritime, had been maintained by England at the end of the disastrous
American war, when the Armed Neutrality was formed for the express
purpose of depriving her, in her hour of weakness, of this bulwark of
her naval power. It had been defended during the present war against all
Europe, with France and Napoleon at her head. It was impossible that
Britain should permit any challenge of her maritime rights in the
present moment of her prosperity, when not only her ships rode
triumphant on every coast, but her own victorious army was quartered on
French ground, and the powerful hosts of her allies, brought to the
field by her means, were arrayed along the whole frontier of the Rhine.
The Emperor of the French might have as well proposed to make the peace
which Europe was offering to him, depend upon Great Britain's ceding
Ireland or Scotland.
Neither can it be pretended that there was an indirect policy in
introducing this discussion as an apple of discord, which might give
cause to disunion among the allies. Far from looking on the maritime
law, as exercised by Britain, with the eyes of jealousy, with which it
might at other times have been regarded, the continental nations
remembered the far greater grievances which had been entailed on them by
Buonaparte's memorable attempt to put down that law by his
anti-commercial system, which had made Russia herself buckle on her
armour, and was a cause, and a principal one, of the general coalition
against France. As Buonaparte, therefore, could have no hope to obtain
any advantage, direct or indirect, from mixing up the question of
maritime rights with that of the general settlement of the continent,
and as mere spleen and hatred to Great Britain would be scarce an
adequate motive in a mind so sagacious, we must suppose this
inadmissible stipulation to have been thrown in for the purpose of
enabling him to break off the negotiation when he pleased, and cast upon
the English the unpopularity attending the breach of it. It is very true
that England had offered to make sacrifices for obtaining a general
peace; but these sacrifices, as was seen by the event, regarded the
restoration to France of conquered colonies, not the cession of her own
naval rights, which, on no occasion whatsoever, a minister of Britain
will, can, or dare, permit to be brought into challenge. Accordingly,
the acceptance by Buonaparte of the terms transmitted by St. Aignan,
being provided with a slip-knot, as it were, by which he could free
himself from the engagement at pleasure, was considered, both by the
allies, and by a large proportion of the people of France, as elusory,
and indicating no serious purpose of pacification. The treaty therefore
languished, and was not fairly set on foot until the chance of war had
been again appealed to.[305]
In the meanwhile, the allies were bringing up their reserves as fast as
possible, and Buonaparte on his side was doing all he could to recruit
his forces. His measures for this purpose had been adopted long before
the present emergency. As far back as the 9th October, the Empress Maria
Louisa, in the character of Regent, presided in a meeting of the Senate,
held for the purpose of calling for fresh recruits to the armies. She
was an object of interest and compassion to all, when announcing the war
which had broken out betwixt her father and her husband; but the
following injudicious censure upon her country was put into the mouth of
the young sovereign, without much regard to delicacy. "No one," she
said, "can know so well as I what the French will have to dread, if they
permit the allies to be conquerors." The closing paragraph was also much
criticised, as attaching more importance to the personal feelings of the
sovereign, than ought to have been exclusively ascribed to them in so
great a public extremity. "Having been acquainted for four years with
the inmost thoughts of my husband, I know with what sentiments he would
be afflicted if placed on a tarnished throne, and wearing a crown
despoiled of glory."[306] The decree of the Senate, passive as usual,
appointed a levy of 280,000 conscripts.
When Buonaparte arrived at Saint Cloud, after having brought the remains
of his once great army to Mayence, his affairs were even in a worse
state than had been anticipated. But before we proceed to detail the
measures which he took for redeeming them, it is necessary to take
notice of two parties in the state, who, in consequence of the decay of
the Imperial power, were growing gradually into importance.
The first were the adherents of the Bourbons, who, reduced to silence by
the long-continued successes of Buonaparte, still continued to exist,
and now resumed their consequence. They had numerous partisans in the
west and south of France, and many of them still maintained
correspondence with the exiled family. The old noblesse, amongst whom
such as did not attach themselves to the court and person of Napoleon,
continued to be stanch royalists, had acquired, or rather regained, a
considerable influence in Parisian society. The superior elegance of
their manners, the seclusion, and almost mystery of their meetings,
their courage and their misfortunes, gave an interest to these relics of
the history of France, which was increased by the historical
remembrances connected with ancient names and high descent. Buonaparte
himself, by the restoration of nobility as a rank, gave a dignity to
those who had possessed it for centuries, which his own new creations
could not impart. It is true, that in the eye of philosophy, the great
man who first merits and wins a distinguished title, is in himself
infinitely more valuable and respectable than the obscure individual who
inherits his honours at the distance of centuries; but then he is valued
for his personal qualities, not for his noblesse. No one thought of
paying those marshals, whose names and actions shook the world, a
greater degree of respect when Napoleon gave them titles. On the
contrary, they will live in history, and be familiar to the imagination,
by their own names, rather than those arising from their peerages. But
the science of heraldry, when admitted as an arbitrary rule of society,
reverses the rule of philosophy, and ranks nobility, like medals, not
according to the intrinsic value of the metal, but in proportion to its
antiquity. If this was the case with even the heroes who had hewed a
soldier's path to honours, it was still more so with the titles granted
by Buonaparte, "upon carpet consideration," and the knights whom he
dubbed with unhacked rapier. It might be truly said of these that
"Their fire-new stamp of honour scarce was current."[307]
When, therefore, the republican fury died away, and Buonaparte directed
the respect of the people at large towards title and nobility, a
distinct and superior influence was acquired by those who possessed such
honours by hereditary descent. Napoleon knew this, and courted, and in
some degree feared, the remainder of the old noblesse, who, unless he
could decidedly attach them to his own interest, were exposed to
surveillance and imprisonment on circumstances of slight suspicion. They
became, however, so circumspect and cautious, that it was impossible to
introduce the spies of the police into their _salons_ and private
parties. Still Napoleon was sensible of the existence of this party, and
of the danger which might attend upon it, even while his followers had
forgot perhaps that the Bourbons continued to live. "I thought him mad,"
said Ney (whose head, according to Fouché, could not embrace two
political ideas,) "when taking leave of the army at Smorgoni, he used
the expression, 'The Bourbons will make their own of this.'"[308]
[Sidenote: STATE OF PARTIES--THE ROYALISTS.]
This party began now to be active, and a Royalist confederation
organised itself in the centre of France as early as the month of March,
1813. The most distinguished members are said to have been the Dukes of
Duras, Trémouille, and Fitzjames; Messrs. de Polignac, Ferrand, Audrien
de Montmorency, Sosthène de la Rochefoucault, Sermaison, and La
Rochejacquelein. Royalist commanders had been nominated in different
quarters--Count Suzannet in the Lower Poitou, Duras in Orleans and
Tours, and the Marquis de Rivière in the province of Berry. Bourdeaux
was full of Royalists, most of them of the mercantile class, who were
ruined by the restrictions of the continental system, and all waited
anxiously a signal for action.
Another internal faction, noways desirous of the return of the Bourbons,
yet equally inimical to the power of Napoleon, consisted of the old
Republican statesmen and leaders, with the more zealous part of their
followers. These could not behold with indifference the whole fruits of
the Revolution, for which so much misery had been endured, so much blood
spilled, so many crimes committed, swept away by the rude hand of a
despotic soldier. They saw, with a mixture of shame and mortification,
that the issue of all their toils and all their systems had been the
monstrous concoction of a military despotism compared with which every
other government in Europe might be declared liberal, except perhaps
that of Turkey. During the monarchy, so long represented as a system of
slavery, public opinion had in the parliaments zealous advocates, and an
opportunity of making itself known; but in imperial France all was mute,
except the voice of hired functionaries, mere trumpets of the
Government, who breathed not a sound but what was suggested to them. A
sense of this degraded condition united in secret all those who desired
to see a free government in France, and especially such as had been
active in the commencement of the Revolution.
This class of politicians could not desire the return of the family in
whose exile they had been active, and had therefore cause to fear the
re-action with which such an event might be attended; but they wished to
get rid of Napoleon, whose government seemed to be alike inconsistent
with peace and with liberty. The idea of a regency suggested itself to
Fouché and others, as a plausible mode of attaining their purpose.[309]
Austria, they thought, might be propitiated by giving Maria Louisa the
precedence in the council of regency as guardian of her son, who should
succeed to the crown when he came to the age of majority. This
expedient, it was thought, would give an opportunity, in the meanwhile,
to introduce free principles into the constitution. But, while it does
not appear how these theorists intended to dispose of Napoleon, it is
certain that nothing but his death, captivity, or perpetual exile, would
have prevented such a man from obtaining the full management of a
regency, in which his wife was to preside in the name of his son.
[Sidenote: GENERAL DISCONTENT--NEW TAXES IMPOSED.]
A great part of the population of France, without having any distinct
views as to its future government, were discontented with that of
Buonaparte, which, after having drained the country of men and wealth,
seemed about to terminate, by subjecting it to the revenge of incensed
Europe. When these were told that Buonaparte could not bear to sit upon
a tarnished throne, or wear a crown of which the glory was diminished,
they were apt to consider how often it was necessary that the best blood
of France should be expended in washing the one and restoring the
brilliancy of the other. They saw in Napoleon a bold and obstinate man,
conscious of having overcome so many obstacles, that he could not endure
to admit the existence of any which might be insurmountable. They beheld
him obstinately determined to retain every thing, defend every thing,
venture every thing, without making the least sacrifice to
circumstances, as if he were in his own person independent of the Laws
of Destiny, to which the whole universe is subjected. These men felt the
oppression of the new taxes, the terrors of the new conscription,[310]
and without forming a wish as to the mode in which he was to be
succeeded, devoutly desired the Emperor's deposition. But when an end is
warmly desired, the means of attaining it soon come to occupy the
imagination; and thus many of those who were at first a sort of general
malecontents, came to attach themselves to the more decided faction
either of the Royalists or Liberalists.
These feelings, varying between absolute hostility to Napoleon, and
indifference to his fate, threw a general chillness over the disposition
to resist the invasion of the strangers, which Buonaparte had reckoned
on as certain to render the war national amongst so high-spirited a
people as the French. No effort was spared to dispel this apathy, and
excite them to resistance; the presses of the capital and the provinces,
all adopted the tone suggested by the Government, and called forth every
one to rise in mass for defence of the country. But although, in some
places, the peasants were induced to take arms, the nation at large
showed a coldness, which can only be accounted for by the general idea
which prevailed, that the Emperor had an honourable peace within his
power, whenever he should be disposed to accept of it.
In the meantime, new burdens were necessary to pay the expenses of the
approaching campaign, and recruit the diminished ranks of the army.
Napoleon, indeed, supplied from his own hoards a sum of 30 millions of
francs;[311] but, at the same time, the public taxes of the subject
were increased by one moiety, without any appeal to, or consultation
with the Legislative Body, who, indeed, were not sitting at the time. In
a council of state extraordinary, held on the 11th November, two days
after his return to Paris, Napoleon vindicated the infliction of this
heavy augmentation on a discontented and distressed country. "In
ordinary times," he said, "the contributions were calculated at
one-fifth of the income of the individual; but, according to the urgency
of events, there was no reason why it should not rise to a fourth, a
third, or a half of the whole income. In fact," he concluded, "the
contribution had no bounds; and if there were any laws intimating the
contrary, they were ill-considered laws, and undeserving of
attention."[312]
[Sidenote: REPORT--STATE OF THE NATION.]
There was then read to the council a decree of the Senate for a new
conscription of 300,000 men, to be levied upon those who had escaped the
conscription of former years, and who had been considered as exempted
from the service. There was a deep and melancholy silence. At length a
counsellor spoke, with some hesitation, though it was only to blame the
introductory clause of the senatorial decree, which stated the invasion
of the frontiers as the cause of this large levy. It was, he suggested,
a declaration too much calculated to spread alarm.
"And wherefore," said Napoleon, giving way to his natural vehemence, and
indicating more strongly than prudence warranted, the warlike and
vindictive purposes which exclusively occupied his breast--"wherefore
should not the whole truth be told? Wellington has entered the south;
the Russians menace the northern frontier; the Prussians, Austrians, and
Bavarians threaten the east. Shame!--Wellington is in France, and we
have not risen in mass to drive him back. All my allies have deserted
me; the Bavarians have betrayed me--They threw themselves on my rear to
cut off my retreat--But they have been slaughtered for their pains. No
peace--none till we have burned Munich. A triumvirate is formed in the
north, the same which made a partition of Poland. I demand of France
300,000 men--I will form a camp of a 100,000 at Bourdeaux--another at
Metz--another at Lyons. With the present levy, and what remains of the
last, I will have a million of men. But I must have grown men--not these
boy-conscripts, to encumber the hospitals, and die of fatigue upon the
highways--I can reckon on no soldiers now save those of France itself."
"Ah, Sire," said one of the assentators, glad to throw in a suggestion
which he supposed would suit the mood of the time, "that ancient France
must remain to us inviolate."
"And Holland!" answered Napoleon, fiercely. "Abandon Holland? sooner
yield it back to the sea. Counsellors, there must be an impulse
given--all must march--You are fathers of families, the heads of the
nation; it is for you to set the example. They speak of peace; I hear of
nothing but peace, when all around should echo to the cry of war."
This was one of the occasions on which Buonaparte's constitutional
vehemence overcame his political prudence. We might almost think we hear
the voice of the Scandinavian deity Thor, or the war-god of Mexico,
clamorous for his victims, and demanding that they be unblemished, and
worthy of his bloody altar. But Buonaparte was unable to inspire others
with his own martial zeal; they only foresaw that the nation must,
according to the system of its ruler, encounter a most perilous danger,
and that, even in case of success, when Napoleon reaped laurels, France
would only gather cypress. This feeling was chiefly predominant in the
Legislative Assembly; as every representative body which emanates,
however remotely, from the people, has a natural aptitude to espouse
their cause.
It is true, that the Emperor had by every precaution in his power,
endeavoured to deprive this part of the state, the only one which had
retained the least shadow of popular representation, of every thing
approaching to freedom of debate or right of remonstrance, and by a
recent act of despotic innovation, had even robbed them of the power of
choosing their own president. He is said also to have exerted his
authority over individuals by a practice similar to that adopted by
James the Second upon members of parliament, called _closeting_,
admitting individuals of the Legislative Body to private interviews, and
condescending to use towards them that personal intercession, which,
coming from a sovereign, it is so difficult to resist. But these arts
proved unsuccessful, and only tended to show to the world that the
Legislative Body had independence enough to intimate their desire for
peace, while their sovereign was still determined on war. A commission
of five of their members, distinguished for wisdom and moderation, were
appointed to draw up a report upon the state of the nation, which they
did in terms respectful to Napoleon, but such as plainly indicated their
conviction that he would act wisely to discontinue his schemes of
external ambition, to purchase peace by disclaiming them, and at the
same time to restore to the subject some degree of internal liberty.
They suggested, that in order to silence the complaints of the allied
monarchs, which accused France of aiming at general sovereignty, the
Emperor should make a solemn and specific declaration, abjuring all such
purposes. They reminded him, that when Louis XIV. desired to restore
energy to the nation, he acquainted them with the efforts he had made to
obtain peace, and the effect answered his wishes. They recommended the
example to Napoleon. It was only necessary, they said, that the nation
should be assured, that the war was to be continued for the sole object
of the independence of the French people and territory, to reanimate
public spirit, and induce all to concur in the general defence. After
other arguments tending to enforce the same advice, the report
concluded with recommending, that his Majesty should be supplicated to
maintain the active and constant execution of the laws, which preserve
to Frenchmen the rights of liberty, and security both of person and
property, and to the nation the free exercise of its political
privileges.[313]
Like the mute prince, who recovered his speech when his father's life
was endangered, the extremity of the national distress thus gave the
power of remonstrance to a public body which had hitherto been only the
passive agents of the will of a despotic sovereign. Yet comparing the
nature of the remonstrance with the period of extremity at which it was
made, Napoleon must have felt somewhat in the situation of the patriarch
of Uz, the friends of whose former prosperity came in the moment of his
greatest distresses with reproaches instead of assistance. The
Legislative Body had been at least silent and acquiescent during the
wonderful period of Buonaparte's success, and they now chose that of his
adversity to give him unpalateable advice, instead of aiding in this
emergency to inspire the nation with confidence. A philosophical monarch
would nevertheless have regarded the quality of the course recommended
more than the irritating circumstances of time and manner in which it
was given; and would have endeavoured, by frank confidence and
concessions, to reconcile himself with the Legislative Body. An artful
and Machiavelian despot would have temporized with the deputies, and
yielded for the time, with the purpose of afterwards recovering, at a
fitting period, whatever point he might at present be obliged to cede.
But Napoleon, too impetuous for either policy or philosophy, gave way to
the full vehemence of a resentment, which, though unreasonable and
imprudent, was certainly, considering those to whom it was addressed, by
no means unnatural. He determined instantly to prorogue the Assembly,
which had indicated such symptoms of opposition.[314] Their hall was,
therefore, shut against them, and guarded with soldiers, while the
deputies, summoned before the throne of the Emperor, received the
following singular admonition:--"I have prohibited the printing of your
address, because it is seditious. Eleven parts of you are good citizens,
but the twelfth consists of rebels, and your commissioners are of the
number. Lainé corresponds with the Prince Regent of England; the others
are hotheaded fools, desirous of anarchy, like the Girondists, whom
such opinions led to the scaffold. Is it when the enemy are on the
frontiers that you demand an alteration of the constitution? Rather
follow the example of Alsace and Franche Comté, where the inhabitants
ask for leaders and arms to drive the invaders back. You are not the
representatives of the people--you are only the representatives of the
individual departments.... Yet you seek in your address to draw a
distinction betwixt the sovereign and the people. I--I am the only real
representative of the people. Which of you could support such a
burden?--The throne is merely a piece of wood covered with velvet. I--I
alone hold the place of the people. If France desires another species of
constitution, which does not suit me, I will tell her to seek another
monarch. It is at me the enemies aim, more than at France; but are we,
therefore, to sacrifice a part of France? Do I not sacrifice my
self-love, and my feelings of superiority, to obtain peace? Think you I
speak proudly? If I do, I am proud because I have courage, and because
France owes her grandeur to me. Yes--your address is unworthy of the
Legislative Body, and of me. Begone to your homes. I will cause your
address to be published in the _Moniteur_, with such notes as I shall
furnish. Even if I had done wrong, you ought not to have reproached me
with it thus publicly. People do not wash their dirty linen before the
world. To conclude, France has more need of me than I have of
France."[315]
[Sidenote: LEGISLATIVE BODY PROROGUED.]
With this philippic, which we have but slightly compressed, he spurned
the members of the Legislative Body from his presence.[316] It displays
in a remarkable degree his natural vehemence of temper; his view of the
constitution as a drama, in which he filled up every part, and performed
at once the part of the prince and of the people; his consciousness of
his own extraordinary powers, which he boldly weighed in the balance
against all France; and the coarse and mean taste of some of his
expressions. The suspension of the Legislative Body, the only part, we
repeat, of the Imperial constitution which had the least pretence to a
popular origin, was not qualified to increase the confidence of the
public, who now saw want of unity between the Emperor and the popular
representatives, added to the other threatening circumstances of the
time, and became yet more distracted in their opinions, and unwilling to
exert themselves for the common defence.
To give a more favourable impulse to the mind of the nation, Napoleon
had recourse to an expedient which, in the time of the Republic, had
been attended with universal effect. He sent special commissioners,
twenty-seven in number, into the different departments, to arouse the
dormant energies of the inhabitants, and induce them to take up arms.
But the senators and counsellors, chosen for this purpose, were
altogether void of the terrible energies of the Republican proconsuls;
and, though endowed like them with the most arbitrary powers, they had
neither the furious zeal, nor the contempt of all the prejudices of
humanity, which had been displayed by those ferocious demagogues. Their
mission, therefore, produced but little effect. The conscription, too,
failed to be the ready source of levies which it had so often proved.
The lancet had been so often used, that the blood no longer followed it
so readily.
[Sidenote: HIS UNCEASING EXERTIONS.]
The unceasing activity of Napoleon laboured to supply these
deficiencies. By day he was incessantly engaged in actively reviewing
troops, inspecting stores, and all the preparations for a desperate
resistance. By night, the lights were seen to glimmer late and long in
the windows of his private apartment, in the upper story of the
Tuileries.[317] He succeeded in levying twelve fresh regiments, and
prepared to augment his veteran force by withdrawing Suchet from
Catalonia, and making draughts from Soult's army on the frontiers, which
he designed to supply by fresh levies.
The _Moniteur_, and the other newspapers, magnified the success of the
Emperor's exertions, described armies in reserve which had no existence,
and dilated upon the _beau desespoir_ which was driving all France to
arms, while, in fact, most of the provinces waited with apathy the
events of the war.
One of the strongest symptoms of Napoleon's own consciousness of
approaching danger, was his calling out and arming the national guard of
Paris, a force to which he would not have appealed, save in the case of
the last necessity, but to which he now felt himself obliged to have
recourse. Aware, however, that to mark any want of confidence in the
armed citizens at this moment, would be to give occasion to the
disaffection which he dreaded, he solemnized his departure to the
frontier by convoking a meeting of the officers of the national guard
at the Tuileries. He appeared among them with his Empress and his infant
child, and in a tone which penetrated every bosom, announced that, being
about to place himself at the head of his army, he committed to the
faith of the citizens of Paris, the security of his capital, his wife,
and his child. Whatever complaints might be justly entertained against
Napoleon's political conduct, none were so ungenerous as to remember
them at that moment. Many of the officers shared in the emotion which he
testified, and some mingled their tears with those of the alarmed and
sorrowing Empress.[318]
This scene took place on the 23d of January; on the 25th,[319] Napoleon
left that abode of royalty, to which he was doomed not to return until
he had undergone strange changes of fortune. His mind was agitated with
unusual apprehensions and anticipations of misfortune; feeling also,
what was unsuspected by many, that the real danger of his situation
arose from the probability of the nation's wishing to recall the
Bourbons. He had even, according to his own account, resolved to arrest
"the person of a man of great influence,"[320] whom he supposed most
likely to promote this design. His counsellors persuaded him to forbear
this arbitrary action at a moment when his power was becoming daily more
obnoxious, and reminded him that the suspected person had as much reason
to fear the restoration of the Bourbons as he himself had. The Emperor
yielded the point, but not without strongly repeating his fears that his
advisers and himself would both have to repent of it; and not without
charging Cambacérès to make sure of that individual's person in case any
crisis should take place in the capital.
Thus, full of melancholy presages, he hastened to the field, where he
had but inadequate means to oppose to the accumulated force which was
now precipitating itself upon France.
FOOTNOTES:
[297] French Envoy to the Duke of Saxe Weimar.
[298] "M. Metternich told me, that he wished Napoleon to be convinced
that the greatest impartiality and moderation prevailed in the councils
of the allied powers; but that they felt themselves strong in proportion
to their moderation: that none of them entertained designs against the
dynasty of the Emperor Napoleon; that England was much more moderate
than was supposed; and that there never was a more favourable moment for
treating with that power."--_M. DE SAINT AIGNAN'S Report._ See
_Montholon_, tom. ii., Appendix.
[299] Fouché, tom. ii., p. 150.
[300] George Hamilton Gordon, fourth Earl of Aberdeen K.T., F.R.S., and
P.S.A.
[301] Speech to the Senate, Oct. 7.
[302] Robert Stewart, Viscount Castlereagh, was born in 1769. In 1821,
he succeeded his father, as Marquis of Londonderry, and died in 1822.
[303] Dated Frankfort, Dec. 1, 1813.
[304] See the correspondence in Savary's Memoirs, tom. iii., p. 140.
[305] "The Emperor placed no confidence in the sentiments expressed in
the declarations of the allies. He had said long before, 'They have
appointed my grave as their place of rendezvous, but none of them will
venture to come first.' He now added, 'Their time of rendezvous has
arrived. They think the lion dead; and the question is, "Who will give
the ass' kick." If France abandon me, I can do nothing.'"--SAVARY, tom.
iii., p. 158.
[306] Moniteur, Oct. 10, 1813.
[307] Richard III., act i., scene iii.
[308] _Les Bourbons s'en tireraient._ Memoirs of Fouché, vol. iii., p.
87.--S.
[309] Fouché, tom. ii., p. 132. "The conferring of this authority on the
Empress Maria Louisa was generally approved. Her good and amiable
character was well known; and she was consequently much loved and
esteemed. Every one connected with her household had experience of her
kindness; and it might with truth be said, that she had won the
good-will of the nation, which regarded her with an affectionate
respect."--SAVARY, tom. iii., p. 56.
[310] It has been given as a sufficient answer to these complaints, that
Buonaparte is falsely accused of having drained France of her youth,
since, upon the whole, the population is stated to have, on the
contrary, increased. This may be the case; but it is no less certain,
that the wars of Buonaparte consumed at least a million of conscripts,
and it does not occur to us that the population of a country increases
under such circumstances, like the growth of a tree subjected to much
pruning; still less that the general result would satisfy parents for
the slaughter of their children, any more than the sorrow of a mother
who had lost her infant would be assuaged by the information that her
next-door neighbour had been safely delivered of twins.--S.
[311] "The Emperor possessed a considerable treasure, the fruit of his
economy: he transferred thirty millions to the public treasury; but this
resource was far from being sufficient to meet the exigencies."--SAVARY,
tom. iii., p. 147.
[312] Montgaillard, tom. vii., p. 273.
[313] Montgaillard, tom. vii., p. 294; Savary, tom. iii., p. 172.
[314] "'What need have I,' said the Emperor, 'of that assembly, if,
instead of giving me the support of its strength, it only throws
difficulties in my way? Is this the proper moment, when the national
existence is threatened, to speak to me of constitutions and of the
rights of the people? In a case analogous to the present state of
France, the ancients extended the power of the government instead of
restraining it. Here we are losing our time in trifles, whilst the enemy
is at our doors. I will adjourn an assembly which is so little disposed
to second me.' He immediately signed the decree to that effect, and gave
me the order to seize every copy of the Report."--SAVARY, tom. iii.,
p. 174.
[315] "Some deputies replied to certain passages of the Emperor's
speech: he listened attentively to them; but did not admit the validity
of their excuses, and persisted in the sentiments he had expressed. The
audience lasted a full quarter of an hour: it was the last that he ever
granted to the Legislative Body."--SAVARY, tom. iii., p. 178.
[316] "The Emperor having returned to his apartments, sent for the
arch-chancellor, M. de Bassano, and myself. In reply to something which
fell from M. Cambacérès, he said, 'What would you have had me do with an
assembly which only waited for a favourable opportunity to excite a
disturbance in the state?--I recollect, besides,' added he, 'that M.
Fouché, who was connected with all these men, entertained the same
opinion in respect to them. He said, that they only came to Paris for
the purpose of asking certain favours, for which they importuned
ministers from morning till night, and complained that their wishes were
not immediately attended to.' The Emperor added, that this opinion of M.
Fouché might be relied upon as sincere, since he had always professed
republican principles."--SAVARY, tom. iii., p. 179.
[317] "His courage and tranquillity of mind remained unshaken. He
laboured day and night to create an army capable of defending our
territory; but the conscription lists no longer presented disposable
men, and the arsenals afforded but meagre resources. His conduct on this
trying occasion serves to show what may be effected by genius such as
his. Fate seemed to have proportioned the weight of his misfortunes to
his power of endurance. Nothing astonished him, or shook his
firmness."--SAVARY, tom. iii., p. 147.
[318] Moniteur, Jan. 26; Savary, tom. iii., p. 203.
[319] "The Emperor's circle that night was composed of persons who
enjoyed the favour of private admissions. He withdrew at an early hour,
saying to those who were near him, 'Farewell, gentlemen, we shall
perhaps meet again.' I had the honour of being in his society that
night; and fell a prey to the deepest despondency, when I beheld him
taking what to my mind appeared a last farewell. At midnight he set off
for Châlons-sur-Marne."--SAVARY, tom. iii., p. 203.
[320] Talleyrand is intimated; for Fouché, to whom the description might
otherwise have applied, was not at this time in or near Paris.--See
SAVARY, tom. iii., p. 199.