CHAPTER XXIV

PRUSSIA AND THE NEW CHARLEMAGNE

An eminent German historian, who has striven to say some kind words

about Frederick William's Government before the collapse at Jena,

prefaces his apology by the axiom that from a Prussian monarch one

ought to expect, not French, English, or Russian policy, but only

Prussian policy. The claim may well be challenged. Doubtless, there

are some States concerning which it would be true. Countries such as

Great Britain and Spain, whose areas are clearly defined by nature,

may with advantage be self-contained until their peoples overflow into

new lands: before they become world Powers, they may gain in strength

by being narrowly national. But there are other States whose fortunes

are widely different. They represent some principle of life or energy,

in the midst of mere political wreckage. If the binding power, which

built up an older organism, should decline, as happened to the Holy

Roman Empire after the religious wars, fragments will fall away and

join bodies to which they are now more akin.

Of the States that throve among the crumbling masses of the old Empire

the chief was Brandenburg-Prussia. She had a twofold energy which the

older organism lacked: she was Protestant and she was national; she

championed the new creed cherished by the North Germans, and she felt,

though dimly as yet, the strength that came from an almost single kin.

Until she seized on part of the spoils of Poland, her Slavonic

subjects were for the most part germanized Slavs; and even after

acquiring Posen and Warsaw at the close of the eighteenth century, she

could still claim to be the chief Germanic State. A generation

earlier, Frederick the Great had seen this to be the source of her

strength. His policy was not merely Prussian: in effect, if not in

aim, it was German. His victory at Rossbach over a great polyglot

force of French and Imperialists first awakened German nationality to

a thrill of conscious life; and the last success of his career was the

championship of the lesser German princes against the encroachments of

the Hapsburgs. In fact, it seems now a mere commonplace to assert that

Prussia has prospered most when, as under Frederick the Great and

William the Great, her policy has been truly German, and that she has

fallen back most in the years 1795-1806 and 1848-1852, when the

subservience of her Frederick Williams to France and Austria has lost

them the respect and support of the rest of the Fatherland. A State

that would attract other fragments of the same nation must be

attractive, and it must be broadly national if it is to attract. If

Stein and Bismarck had been merely Prussians, if Cavour's policy had

been narrowly Sardinian, would their States ever have served as the

rallying centres for the Germany and Italy of to-day?

The difficulties which beset Frederick William III. in 1805 were not

entirely of his own making. His predecessor of the same ill-omened

name, when nearing the close of his inglorious reign, made the Peace

of Basel (1795), which began to place the policy of Berlin at the beck

and call of the French revolutionists. But the present ruler had

assured Prussia's subservience to France at the time of the

Secularizations, when he gained Erfurt, Eichsfeld, Hildesheim,

Paderborn, and a great part of the straggling bishopric of Münster.

Even at that time of shameless rapacity, there were those who saw that

the gain of half a million of subjects to Prussia was a poor return

for the loss of self-respect that befell all who shared in the

sacrilegious plunder bartered away by Bonaparte and Talleyrand.

Frederick William III. was even suspected of a leaning towards French

methods of Government; and a Prussian statesman said to the French

ambassador:

"You have only the nobles against you: the King and the people are

openly for France. The revolution which you have made from below

upwards will be slowly effected in Prussia from above downwards:

the King is a democrat after his fashion: he is always striving to

curtail the privileges of the nobles, but by slow means. In a few

years feudal rights will cease to exist in Prussia."[54]

Could the King have carried out these much-needed reforms, he might

perhaps have opposed a solid society to the renewed might of France.

But he failed to set his house in order before the storm burst; and in

1803 he so far gave up his championship of North German affairs as to

allow the French to occupy Hanover, a land that he and his Ministers

had long coveted.

We saw in the last chapter that Hanover was the bait whereby Napoleon

hooked the Prussian envoy, Haugwitz, at Schönbrunn; and that the very

man who had been sent to impose Prussia's will upon the French Emperor

returned to Berlin bringing peace and dishonour. The surprise and

annoyance of Frederick William may be imagined. On all sides

difficulties were thickening around him. Shortly before the return of

Haugwitz to Berlin, the Russian troops campaigning in Hanover had been

placed under the protection of Prussia; and the King himself had

offered to our Minister, Lord Harrowby, to protect Cathcart's

Anglo-Hanoverian corps which, _with the aid of Prussian troops_, was

restoring the authority of George III. in that Electorate.

Moreover, Frederick William could not complain of any shabby treatment

from our Government. Knowing that he was set on the acquisition of

Hanover and could only be drawn into the Coalition by an equally

attractive offer, the Pitt Ministry had proposed through Lord Harrowby

the cession to Prussia at the general peace of the lands south-west of

the Duchy of Cleves, "bounded by a frontier line drawn from Antwerp to

Luxemburg," and connected with the rest of her territories.[55] This

plan, which would have planted Prussia firmly at Antwerp, Liège,

Luxemburg, and Cologne, also aimed at installing the Elector of

Salzburg in the rest of the new Rhenish acquisitions of France; while

the equipoise of the Powers was to be adjusted by the cession of

Salzburg, the Papal Legations, and the line of the Mincio to Austria,

she in her turn giving up part of her Dalmatian lands to Russia.

Prussia was to be the protectress of North Germany and regard any

incursion of the French, "north of the Maine or at least of the Lahn,"

as an act of war. Great Britain, after subsidizing Prussia for 100,000

troops on the usual scale, pledged herself to restore all her

conquests made, or to be made, during the war, with the exception of

the Cape of Good Hope: but no questions were to be raised about that

desirable colony, or Malta, or the British maritime code.[56]

At the close of 1805, then, Frederick William was face to face with

the offers of England and those brought by Haugwitz from Napoleon.

That is, he had to choose between the half of Belgium and the

Rhineland as offered by England, or Hanover as a gift from Napoleon.

The former gain was the richer, but apparently the more risky, for it

entailed the hatred of France: the latter seemed to secure the

friendship of the conqueror, though at the expense of the claims of

honour and a naval war with England. His confidential advisers,

Lombard, Beyme, and Haugwitz, were determined to gain the Electorate,

preferably at Napoleon's hands; while his Foreign Minister,

Hardenberg, a Hanoverian by birth, desired to assure the union of his

native land with Prussia by more honourable means, and probably by

means of an exchange with George III., which will be noticed

presently. In his opposition to French influence, Hardenberg had the

support of the more patriotic Prussians, who sought to safeguard

Prussia's honour, and to avert war with England. The difficulty in

accepting the Electorate at the point of Napoleon's sword was not

merely on the score of morality: it was due to the presence of a large

force of English, Hanoverians, and Russians on the banks of the Weser,

and to the protection which the Prussian Government had offered to

those troops against any French attack, always provided that they did

not move against Holland and retired behind the Prussian

battalions.[57] The indignation of British officers at this last order

is expressed by Christian Ompteda, of the King's German Legion, in a

letter to his brother at Berlin: "My dear fellow, if this sort of

thing goes on, the Continent will soon be irrecoverably lost. The

Russian and English armies will not long creep for refuge under the

contemptible Prussian cloak. We are here, 40,000 of the best and

bravest troops. A swift move on Holland only would have opened the

road to certain success.... And this is Lombard's and Haugwitz's

work!"[58]

What meanwhile were George III.'s Ministers doing? At this crisis

English policy suffered a terrible blow. Death struck down the

"stately column" that held up the swaying fortunes of our race.

William Pitt, long failing in health, was sore-stricken by the news of

Austerlitz and the defection of Austria. But the popular version as to

the cause of his death--that _Austerlitz killed Pitt_--is more

melodramatic than correct. Among the many causes that broke that

unbending spirit, the news of the miserable result of the Hanoverian

Expedition was the last and severest. The files of our Foreign Office

papers yield touching proof of the hopes which the Cabinet cherished,

even after Vienna was in Napoleon's hands. Harrowby was urged to do

everything in his power--short of conceding Hanover--to bring Prussia

into the field, in which case "nearly 300,000 men will be available in

North Germany at the beginning of the next campaign, which will

include 70,000 British and Hanoverian troops employed there or in

maritime enterprises."[59] To this hope Pitt clung, even after hearing

the news of Austerlitz, and it was doubtless this which enabled him to

bear that last journey from Bath to Putney Heath, with less fatigue

and far more quickly than had been expected. He arrived home on

Saturday night, January 11th. On the following Wednesday his friend,

George Rose, called on him and found that a serious change for the

worse had set in.

"On the Sunday he was better, and continued improving till Monday

in the afternoon, when Lord Castlereagh insisted on seeing him,

and, having obtained access to him, entered (Lord Hawkesbury being

also present) on points of public business of the most serious

importance (principally respecting the bringing home the British

troops from the Continent), which affected him visibly that

evening and the next day, and this morning the effect was more

plainly observed: ... his countenance is extremely changed, his

voice weak, and his body almost wasted."

It is clear also from the medical evidence which the diarist gives

that the news from Hanover was the cause of this sudden change. On the

previous Sunday, that is, just after the fatigue of the three days'

journey, the physicians "thought there was a reasonable prospect of

Mr. Pitt's recovery, that the probability was in favour of it, and

that, if his complaint should not take an unfavourable turn, he might

be able to attend to business in about a month."[60] That unfavourable

turn took place when the heroic spirit lost all hope under the

distressing news from Berlin and Hanover. Austerlitz, it is true, had

depressed him. Yet that, after all, did not concern British honour and

the dearest interests of his master.

But, that Frederick William, from whom he had hoped so much, to whom

he was on the point of advancing a great subsidy, should now fall

away, should talk of peace with Napoleon and claim Hanover, should

forbid an invasion of Holland and request the British forces to

evacuate North Germany--this was a blow to George III., to our

military prestige, and to the now tottering Ministry. How could he

face the Opposition, already wellnigh triumphant in the sad Melville

business, with a King's Speech in which this was the chief news?

Losing hope, he lost all hold on life: he sank rapidly: in the last

hours his thoughts wandered away to Berlin and Lord Harrowby. "What is

the wind?" he asked. "East; that will do; that will bring him fast,"

he murmured. And, on January 23rd, about half an hour before he

breathed his last, the servant heard him say: "My country: oh my

country."[61]

Thus sank to rest, amidst a horror of great darkness, the statesman

whose noon had been calm and glorious. Only a superficial reading of

his career can represent him as eager for war and a foe to popular

progress. His best friends knew full well his pride in the great

financial achievements of 1784-6, his resolute clinging to peace in

1792, and his longing for a pacification in 1796, 1797, and 1800,

provided it could be gained without detriment to our allies and to the

vital interests of Britain. His defence lies buried amidst the

documents of our Record Office, and has not yet fully seen the light.

For he was a reserved man, the warmth of whose nature blossomed forth

only to a few friends, or on such occasions as his inspired speech on

the emancipation of slaves. To outsiders he had more than the usual

fund of English coldness: he wrote no memoirs, he left few letters, he

had scant means of influencing public opinion; and he viewed with

lofty disdain the French clamour that it was he who made and kept up

the war. "I know it," he said; "the Jacobins cry louder than we can,

and make themselves heard."[62] He was, in fact, a typical champion of

our rather dumb and stolid race, that plods along to the end of the

appointed stage, scarcely heeding the cloud of stinging flies. Both

the people and its champion were ill fitted to cope with Napoleon.

None of our statesmen had the Latin tact and the histrionic gifts

needful to fathom his guile, to arouse the public opinion of Europe

against him, or to expose his double-dealing.

But Pitt was unfortunate above all of them. It was his fate to begin

his career in an age of mediocrities and to finish it in an almost

single combat with the giant. He was no match for Napoleon. The

Coalition, which the Czar and he did so much to form, was a house of

cards that fell at the conqueror's first touch; and the Prussian

alliance now proved to be a broken reed. His notions of strategy were

puerile. The French Emperor was not to be beaten by small forces

tapping at his outworks; and Austria might reasonably complain that

our neglect to attack the rear of the Grand Army in Flanders exposed

her to the full force of its onset on the Danube. But though his

genius pales before the fiery comet of Napoleon, it shines with a

clear and steady radiance when viewed beside that of the Continental

statesmen of his age. They flickered for a brief space and set. His

was the rare virtue of dauntless courage and unswerving constancy. By

the side of their wavering groups he stands forth like an Abdiel:

"Unshaken, unseduced, unterrified,

His loyalty he kept, his love, his zeal:

Nor number nor example with him wrought

To swerve from truth or change his constant mind,

Though single."

While English statesmanship was essaying the task of forming a

Coalition Ministry under Fox and Grenville, Napoleon with untiring

activity was consolidating his position in Germany, Italy, and France.

In Germany he allied his family by marriage with the now royal Houses

of Bavaria and Würtemberg. He chased the Bourbons of Naples from their

Continental domains. In France he found means to mitigate a severe

financial crisis, and to strengthen his throne by a new order of

hereditary nobility. In a word, he became the new Charlemagne.

The exaltation of the South German dynasties had long been a favourite

project with Napoleon, who saw in the hatred of the House of Bavaria

for Austria a sure basis for spreading French influence into the heart

of Germany. Not long after the battle of Austerlitz, the Elector of

Bavaria, while out shooting, received from a French courier a letter

directed to "Sa Majesté _le Roi_ de Bavière et de Suabe."[63] This

letter was despatched six days after a formal request was sent through

Duroc, that the Elector would give his daughter Augusta in marriage to

Eugène Beauharnais. The affair had been mooted in October: it was

clinched by the victory of Austerlitz; and after Napoleon's arrival at

Munich on the last day of the year, the final details were arranged.

The bridegroom was informed of it in the following laconic style: "I

have arrived at Munich. I have arranged your marriage with the

Princess Augusta. It has been announced. This morning the princess

visited me, and I spoke with her for a long time. She is very pretty.

You will find herewith her portrait on a cup; but she is much better

looking." The wedding took place at Munich as soon as the bridegroom

could cross the Alps; and Napoleon delayed his departure for France in

order to witness the ceremony which linked him with an old reigning

family. At the same time he arranged a match between Jerome Bonaparte

and Princess Catherine of Würtemberg. This was less expeditious,

partly because, in the case of a Bonaparte, Napoleon judged it needful

to sound the measure of his obedience. But Jerome had been broken in:

he had thrown over Miss Paterson, and, after a delay of a year and a

half, obeyed his brother's behests, and strengthened the ties

connecting Swabia with France. A third alliance was cemented by the

marriage of the heir to the Grand Duchy of Baden with Stéphanie de

Beauharnais, niece of Josephine.

In the early part of 1806 Napoleon might flatter himself with his

brilliant success as a match-maker. Yet, after all, he was less

concerned with the affairs of Hymen than with those of Mars and

Mercury. He longed to be at Paris for the settlement of finances; and

he burned to hear of the expulsion of the Bourbons from Naples. For

this last he had already sent forth his imperious mandates from

Vienna; and, after a brief sojourn at the Swabian capitals, he set out

for Paris, where he arrived incognito at midnight of January 26th.

During his absence of one hundred and twenty-five days he had captured

or destroyed two armies, stricken a mighty coalition to the heart,

shattered the Hapsburg Power, and revolutionized the Germanic system

by establishing two Napoleonic kingdoms in its midst.

Yet, as if nothing had been done, and all his hopes and thoughts lay

in the future, he summoned his financial advisers to a council for

eight o'clock in the morning. Scarcely did he deign to notice their

congratulations on his triumphs. "We have," he said, "to deal with

more serious questions: it seems that the greatest dangers of the

State were not in Austria: let us hear the report of the Minister of

the Treasury." It then appeared that Barbé-Marbois had been concerned

in risky financial concerns with the Court of Spain, through a man

named Ouvrard. The Minister therefore was promptly dismissed, and

Mollien then and there received his post. The new Minister states in

his memoirs that the money, which had sufficed to carry the French

armies from the English Channel to the Rhine, had been raised on

extravagant terms, largely on loans on the national domains. In fact,

it had been an open question whether victory would come promptly

enough to avert a wholesale crash at Paris.

So bad were the finances that, though 40,000,000 francs were poured

every year into France as subsidies from Italy and Spain, yet loans of

120,000,000 francs had been incurred in order to meet current

expenses.[64] It would exceed the limits of our space to describe by

what forceful means Napoleon restored the financial equilibrium and

assuaged the commercial crisis resulting from the war with England.

Mollien soon had reason to know that, so far from avoiding Continental

wars, the Emperor thenceforth seemed almost to provoke them, and that

the motto--_War must support war_--fell far short of the truth.

Napoleon's wars, always excepting his war with England, supported the

burdens of an armed peace. In this respect his easy and gainful

triumph over Austria was a disaster for France and Europe. It beckoned

him on to Jena and Tilsit.

While reducing his finances to order and newspaper editors to

servility, the conqueror received news of the triumph of his arms in

Southern Italy. There the Bourbons of Naples had mortally offended

him. After concluding a convention for the peaceable withdrawal of St.

Cyr's corps and the strict observance of neutrality by the kingdom of

Naples, Ferdinand IV. and his Queen Caroline welcomed the arrival at

their capital of an Anglo-Russian force of 20,000 men, and intrusted

the command of these and of the Neapolitan troops to General Lacy.[65]

This force, it is true, did little except weaken the northward march

of Masséna; but the violation of neutrality by the Bourbons galled

Napoleon. At Vienna he refused to listen to the timid pleading of the

Hapsburgs on their behalf, and as soon as peace was signed at

Pressburg he put forth a bulletin stating that St. Cyr was marching on

Naples to hurl from the throne that guilty woman who had so flagrantly

violated all that is sacred among men. France would fight for thirty

years rather than pardon her atrocious act of perfidy: the Queen of

Naples had ceased to reign: let her go to London and form a committee

of sympathetic ink with Drake, Spencer-Smith, Taylor, and Wickham.

This diatribe was not the first occasion on which the conqueror had

proved that he was no gentleman. In his brutal letter of January 2nd,

1805, to Queen Caroline, he told her that, if she was the cause of

another war, she and her children would beg their bread all through

Europe. That and similar outbursts afford some excuse for the conduct

of the Bourbons in the autumn of 1805. They infringed the neutrality

which their ambassador had engaged to observe: but it is to be

remembered that Napoleon's invasion of the Neapolitan States in 1803

was a gross violation of international law, which the French Foreign

Office sought to cloak by fabricating two secret articles of the

Treaty of Amiens.[66] And though troth should doubtless be kept, even

with a law-breaker, yet its violation becomes venial when the latter

adopts the tone of a bully. For the present he triumphed. Joseph

Bonaparte invaded Naples in force, and on January 13th the King,

Queen, and Court set sail for Palermo. The Anglo-Russian divisions

re-embarked and sailed away for Malta and Corfu. One of the Neapolitan

strongholds, Gaëta, held out till the middle of July. Elsewhere the

Bourbon troops gave little trouble.

The conquest of Naples enabled Napoleon to extend his experiment of a

federation of Bonapartist Kings. He announced to Miot de Melito, now

appointed one of Joseph's administrators, his intentions in an

interview at the Tuileries on January 28th. Joseph was to be King of

Naples, if he accepted the honour quickly. If not, the Emperor would

adopt a son, as in the case of Eugène, and make him King.--"I don't

need a wife to have an heir. It is by my pen that I get

children."--But Joseph must also show himself worthy of the honour.

Let him despise fatigue, get wounded, break a leg.

"Look at me. The recent campaign, agitation, and movement have

made me fat. I believe that if all the kings coalesced against me,

I should get a quite ridiculous stomach.... You have heard my

words. I can no longer have relatives in obscurity. Those who will

not rise with me, shall no longer be of my family. I am making a

family of kings attached to my federative system."[67]

The threat having had its effect, Joseph was proclaimed King of Naples

by a decree of Napoleon. "Keep a firm hand: I only ask one thing of

you: be entirely the master there."[68] Such was the advice given to

his amiable brother, who after enjoying a military promenade

southwards was charged to undertake the conquest of Sicily. It

mattered little that the overthrow of the Neapolitan Bourbons offended

the Czar, who had undertaken the protection of that House.

As though intent on browbeating Alexander by an exhibition of his

power, Napoleon lavished Italian titles on his Marshals and statesmen.

Talleyrand became Prince of Benevento; and Bernadotte, Prince of

Ponte-Corvo (two Papal enclaves in Neapolitan soil). To these and

other titles were attached large domains (not divisible at death),

which enabled his paladins and their successors to support their new

dignities with pomp and splendour; especially was this so with the two

titles which his bargains with Prussia and Bavaria enabled him to

bestow. Thanks to the complaisance of their Kings, the Grand Duchy of

Berg and Cleves was granted to Murat, while the energetic and trusty

Berthier was rewarded with the Principality of Neufchâtel and a truly

princely fortune.[69]

Thus was founded the Napoleonic nobility; and thus was fulfilled Mme.

de Staël's prophecy that the priests and nobles would be the

_caryatides_ of the future throne. The change was brought about

skilfully. It took place when pride in Napoleon's exploits was at its

height, and when the "Gazette de France" asserted:

"France is henceforth the arbitress of Europe.... Civilization

would have perished in Europe, if forth from the ruins there had

not arisen one of these men before whom the world keeps silence,

and to whom Providence seems to intrust its destinies."[70]

This adulation, which recalls that of the Court of Augustus or

Tiberius, gives the measure of French thought. In truth, Napoleon

showed profound insight into human nature when he judged the hatred of

an order of nobility to be a mere passing spasm of revolutionary

fever; and he evinced equal good sense in restoring that order through

the chiefs of the one truly popular institution in France, the army.

Besides, the new titles were not taken from French domains, which

would have revived the idea of feudal dependence in France: they were

the fruit of Napoleon's great victory; and the sound of distant names

like Benevento, Berg, and Dalmatia skilfully flattered the pride of

_la grande nation_.

It is now time to return to the affairs of Prussia and to point out

the chief stages in her downward course. On January 3rd, 1806, an

important State Council was held at Berlin in order to decide on

certain modifications to the Schönbrunn Treaty with Napoleon. The

chief change resolved on was as follows: Instead of the cessions of

territory being immediate and absolute, as proposed by Napoleon, they

were not to take effect before the general peace. Until that took

place, Frederick William resolved to occupy Hanover provisionally,

meanwhile answering to France for the tranquillity of the north of

Germany.[71] The Prussian Government therefore gave strong hints that

the presence of a British force there was objectionable, and the

troops were withdrawn.[72]

Napoleon was to be less pliable. And yet Haugwitz assured the Prussian

King and council that he had looked Napoleon through and through, and

had discerned an unexpressed wish to deal easily with Prussia. As to

his acceptance of these changes in the Schönbrunn Treaty, Haugwitz

felt no doubt whatever, at least so his foe, Hardenberg, states. But

the Prussian Ministers were now proposing, not the offensive and

defensive treaty of alliance that Napoleon required, but rather a

mediation for peace between France and England. They were, in fact,

striving to steer halfway between Napoleon and George III.--and gain

Hanover. Verily, here was a belief in half measures passing that of

women.

The envoy despatched to assure Napoleon's assent to these new

conditions was the very man who had quailed before the Emperor at

Schönbrunn. Count Haugwitz set out on January 14th for Munich and

thence for Paris; but long before any definite news was received from

him, the Court of Berlin decided, on the strength of a few oily

compliments from the French ambassador, Laforest, to regard the

acceptance of Napoleon as fully assured. Accordingly, on January 24th,

the Government resolved to place the Prussian army on a peace-footing

and recall the troops from Franconia, as a daily saving of 100,000

thalers might thereby be effected. Never was there a greater act of

extravagance. As soon as the retreat and demobilizing of the Prussian

forces was announced, the French troops in Bavaria and Franconia began

to press forward, while others poured across the Rhine. Affecting to

ignore these threatening moves, the Prussian Court strove peaceably to

acquire Hanover by secretly offering George III. a re-arrangement of

territories, whereby the Hanoverian lands east of the Weser, along

with a few districts west of Hameln and Nienburg, should pass to

Prussia. Frederick William proposed to keep Minden and Ravensburg, but

to cede East Frisia and all the rest of his Westphalian possessions to

King George, who would retain the electoral dignity for these new

lands.[73] The only reply that our ruler deigned to this offer was

that he trusted:

"His Prussian Majesty will follow the honourable dictates of his

own heart, and will demonstrate to the world that he will not set

the dreadful example of indemnifying himself at the expense of a

third party, whose sentiments and conduct towards him and his

subjects have been uniformly friendly and pacifick."[74]

But by the close of February this appeal fell on deaf ears. Frederick

William had decided to comply with Napoleon's terms and was about to

take formal possession of Hanover.

The conqueror was far from taking that easy view of the changes made

in the Schönbrunn Treaty which the discerning Haugwitz had trustfully

expected. At first, every effort was made by Talleyrand to delay his

interview with the Emperor, evidently in the hope that the subtle

flattery of Laforest at Berlin would lead to the demobilization of the

Prussian forces. This fatal step was known at Paris before February

6th, when Haugwitz was received by the Emperor; and the knowledge that

Prussia was at his mercy decided the conqueror's tone. He began by

some wheedling words as to the ability shown by Haugwitz in the

Schönbrunn negotiation:

"If anyone but myself had treated with you I should have thought

him bought over by you; but, let me confess to you, the treaty was

due to your talents and merit. You were in my eyes the first

statesman in Europe, and covered yourself with immortal glory."

Before that interview, forsooth, he had decided to make war on

Prussia; and only Haugwitz had induced him to offer her peace and the

gift of Hanover. Why, then, had that treaty been so criticised at

Berlin? Why had the French ambassador been slighted? Why was

Hardenberg high in favour? Why had not the King dismissed that tool of

England? Here the envoy strove to stem the rising torrent of the

Emperor's wrath; his words were at once swept aside; and the deluge

flowed on. As Prussia had not ratified the treaty pure and simple, she

was in a state of war with France; for she still had Russian and

English troops on her soil. Here again Haugwitz observed that those

forces were withdrawing, and that the Prussians were entering Hanover

in force. The storm burst forth anew. What right had Prussia thus to

carry into effect a treaty which she had not ratified? If her forces

entered Hanover, his troops should forthwith occupy Ansbach, Cleves,

and Neufchâtel: if Frederick William meant to have Hanover, he should

pay dearly for it. But he would allow Haugwitz to see Talleyrand, so

as to prevent an immediate war.[75]

The calm of the Foreign Minister was as dangerous as the bluster of

the Emperor. Talleyrand was no friend to Prussia. He had long known

Napoleon's determination to press on a war between England and

Prussia, and he lent himself to the plan of undermining the

Hohenzollerns. The scales now fell from the envoy's eyes. He saw that

his country stood friendless before an exacting creditor, who now

claimed further sacrifices--or Prussia's life-blood. The Emperor's

threats were partly fictitious; and when Haugwitz was thoroughly

frightened and ready to concede almost anything, Napoleon came to the

real point at issue, and demanded that the whole of the German

coast-line on the North Sea should be closed to English commerce. With

this stringent clause superadded, Hanover was now handed over to

Prussia. Never was a Greek gift more skilfully offered. The present of

Hanover on those terms implied for the recipient Russia's disapproval

and the hostility of England.[76]

This was the news brought by Haugwitz to Berlin. Frederick William was

now on the horns of the very dilemma which he had sought to avoid.

Either he must accept Napoleon's terms, or defy the conqueror to

almost single combat. The irony of his position was now painfully

apparent. In his longing for peace and retrenchment he had dismissed

his would-be allies, and had sent his own soldiers grumbling to their

homes. Moreover, he was tied by his previous action. If he accepted

peace from Napoleon at Christmas, when 300,000 men could have disputed

the victor's laurels, how much more must he accept it now! He not only

gave way on this point: he even complied with Napoleon's wishes by

keeping Hardenberg at a distance. He did not dismiss him--the

friendship of the spirited Queen Louisa forbade that: but Hardenberg

yielded up to Haugwitz the guidance of foreign affairs, and was

granted unlimited leave of absence.

Popular feeling was deeply moved by this craven compliance with French

behests. The officers of the Berlin garrison serenaded the patriotic

statesman, while Haugwitz twice had his windows smashed. Public

opinion, it is true, counted for little in Prussia. The rigorous

separation of classes, the absence of popular education, the complete

subjection of the journals to Government, and the mutual jealousy of

soldiers and civilians, prevented any general expression of opinion in

that almost feudal society.

But when the people of Ansbach piteously begged not to be handed over

to Bavaria, and forthwith saw their land occupied by the French before

Prussia had ratified the cession of that principality; when the North

Germans found that the gain of Hanover by Prussia was at the price of

war with England and the ruin of their commerce; when it was seen that

Frederick William and Haugwitz had clipped the wings of the Prussian

eagle till it shunned a fight with the Gallic cock, a feeling of shame

and indignation arose which proved that the limits of endurance had

been reached. Observers saw that, after all, the old German feeling

was not dead; it was only torpid; and forces were beginning to work

which threatened ruin to the Hohenzollerns if they again tarnished the

national honour.[77]

Meanwhile the first overtures for peace were exchanged between Paris,

London, and St. Petersburg. In the spring of 1806 there seemed some

ground for hope that Europe might find repose, at least on land, after

fourteen years of almost constant war. France was no longer

Jacobinical. Under Napoleon she had quickly fallen into line with the

monarchical States, and the questions now at stake merely related to

boundaries and the balance of power. The bellicose ardour of the Czar

had melted away at Austerlitz. The seizure of Hanover by Prussia moved

him but little, and he sought to compose the resulting strife. As for

the other Powers, they were either helpless or torpid. The King of

Sweden was venting his spleen upon Prussia. Italy, South Germany,

Holland, and Spain were at Napoleon's beck; and the policy of England

under the new Grenville-Fox Ministry inclined strongly towards peace.

There seemed, then, every chance of founding the supremacy of France

upon lasting foundations, if the claims of Britain and Austria

received reasonable satisfaction. Napoleon also seems to have wanted

peace for the consolidation of his power in Europe and the extension

of his colonies and commerce. As at the close of all his land

campaigns, his thoughts turned to the East, and on January 31st, 1806,

he issued orders to Decrès which, far from showing any despair as to

the French navy, foreshadowed a vigorous naval and colonial policy;

while his moves on the Dalmatian coast, and the despatch of Sebastiani

on a mission to the Porte, revealed the magnetic attraction which the

Levant still had for him.

A peculiar interest therefore attaches to the negotiations for peace

in 1806, especially as they were pushed on by that generous orator,

Fox, who had so long pleaded for a good understanding with France. On

February 20th, 1806, he disclosed to Talleyrand the details of a

supposed plot for the murder of the French Emperor, which some person

had proposed to him, an offer which he rejected with horror, at the

same time ordering the man to be expelled from the kingdom. It is more

than probable that the whole thing was got up by the French police as

a test of the esteem which Fox had always expressed for Bonaparte.

The experiment having turned out well, Talleyrand assured Fox of the

pacific desires of the French Emperor as recently stated to the Corps

Législatif, namely, that peace could be had on the terms of the Treaty

of Amiens. Fox at once clasped the outstretched hand, but stated that

the negotiations must be in concert with Russia, and the treaty such

as our allies could honourably accept. To this Talleyrand, on April

1st, gave a partial assent, adding that Napoleon was convinced that

the rupture of the Peace of Amiens was due solely to the refusal of

France to grant a treaty of commerce. France and England could now

come to satisfactory terms, if England would be content with the

sovereignty of the seas, and not interfere with Continental

affairs.[78] France desired, not a truce, but a durable peace.

To this Fox assented, but traversed the French claim that Russia's

participation would imply her mediation. Peace could only come from an

honourable understanding between all the Powers actually at war.

Talleyrand denied that Russia was at war with France, as the Third

Coalition had lapsed; but Fox held his ground, and declared there must

be peace with England _and Russia_, or not at all: otherwise France

would be seen to aim at "excluding us from any connection with the

Continental Powers of Europe."[79]

Such a beginning was disappointing: it showed that Napoleon and

Talleyrand were intent on sowing distrust between England and Russia,

who were mutually pledged not to make peace separately; and for a time

all overtures ceased between London and Paris, until it was known that

a Russian envoy was going to Paris. Hitherto the French Foreign Office

had won brilliant successes by skilfully separating and embittering

allies. But now it seemed that their tactics were foiled. Two firm and

trusty allies yet remained, Britain and Russia. To Czartoryski our

Foreign Minister had expressed his desire that the former offensive

alliance should now take a solely defensive character: "If we cannot

reduce the enormous power of France, it will always be something to

stop its progress." To these opinions the Russian Minister gave a

cordial assent, and despatched a special envoy to London to concert

terms of peace along with the British Ministry, while Oubril, "a safe

man on whose prudence and principles the two allied Courts may safely

rely," was despatched to Vienna and Paris.[80]

Oubril proceeded to Vienna, where he had long discussions with the

British and French ambassadors: Fox also requested that Lord Yarmouth,

one of the many hundreds of Englishmen still kept under restraint in

France, might have his freedom and repair at once to Paris for a

preliminary discussion with Talleyrand. The request being granted, the

prisoner left the depot at Verdun, and, early in June, saw that

Minister in his first flush of pride at the new title of Prince of

Benevento. At that time Paris was intoxicated with Napoleon's glory.

The French were lords of Franconia, whence they levied heavy

exactions: in Italy they defied the Pope's authority.[81] They were

firmly installed at Ancona, despite repeated protests of Pius VII.

King Joseph with an army of 45,000 men was planning the expulsion of

the Bourbons from Sicily. And in these early days of June, Louis

Bonaparte was declared King of Holland.

Yet Talleyrand was not so dazzled by this splendour as to slight the

idea of peace with England; and when Lord Yarmouth stated that George

III. would above all things require the restoration of Hanover, the

Minister, after a delay in which he consulted his master, stated that

that would make no difficulty. As to the other questions, namely,

Sicily and the maintenance of the Turkish Empire, he replied: "You

hold Sicily, we do not ask it of you: if we possessed it, it might

much increase our difficulties"; and as regards Turkey he advised

that England should speedily gain the guarantee of its integrity from

France--"for much is being prepared, but nothing is yet done." After

reporting these views at Downing Street, Lord Yarmouth returned to

Paris for further discussions, with the general understanding that the

principle of _uti possidetis_ should form their basis--except as

regards Hanover. He now was informed by Talleyrand that the

negotiations with Russia were to be kept separate, and that Napoleon

had other views about Sicily, as he looked on its conquest as

necessary for Joseph's security on the mainland.

Surprised at this change, our envoy stated that he could not discuss

any terms of peace in which Sicily was not kept for the Bourbons;

whereupon Talleyrand replied that things were altered, and that we

ought to be content with regaining Hanover from Prussia and keeping

Malta and the Cape of Good Hope. On Lord Yarmouth declining to proceed

further until the French claims to Sicily were renounced, the offer of

the Hanse Towns (Lübeck, Hamburg, and Bremen) was made for his

Sicilian Majesty; and on the refusal of that bait, Dalmatia, Ragusa,

and Albania were proposed.

As Napoleon had offered to guarantee the integrity of the Turkish

Empire, Lord Yarmouth showed some indignation at a proposal which

would have begun its partition; and, but for the expected arrival of

Oubril, would have broken off the negotiation. On July 8th he saw the

Russian envoy and found him a man of straw. Oubril approved

everything. He was glad that France would give back Hanover to

England, because that would sever the Franco-Prussian union and make

the Court of Berlin dependent on Russia. He even thought it might be

well for the Hanse Towns to go to the Neapolitan Bourbons, provided

those towns were placed under the Czar's protection. But even better

was the proposal that those Bourbons should have Dalmatia and

neighbouring lands; for that would drive a wedge between Napoleon and

Turkey. Such was the gist of this curious interview. Desirous of

testing the accuracy of his account of it, Lord Yarmouth read it over

to Oubril at their next interview, when the Russian envoy added the

following written corrections:

"N.B.M. d'Oubril believes, though he has no directions on this

subject, that it would be suitable to Russia, and even

advantageous for the assuring their own independence, that Hamburg

and Lübeck should pass under the suzerainty of Russia.--N.B.

Although M. d'Oubril has a positive order to insist on the

preservation of Sicily for the King of Naples, yet he is of

opinion that the acquisition of Venetia, Istria, Dalmatia, and

Albania" [should be an establishment for his Sicilian

Majesty].[82]

That a reed shaken by every breeze should bow before Napoleon's will

was not surprising; and late at night on July 20th Lord Yarmouth heard

that the Russian envoy had just signed a separate peace with France,

whereby the independence of the Ionian Isles was recognized (Russia

keeping only 4,000 troops in Corfu), and Germany was to be evacuated

by the French. But the sting was in the tail: for a secret article

stipulated that Ferdinand IV. should cede Sicily to Joseph Bonaparte

and receive the Balearic Isles from Napoleon's ally, Spain.

Such was the news which our envoy heard, after forcing his way to

Oubril's presence, just as the latter was hurrying off to St.

Petersburg. At that city an important change had taken place;

Czartoryski had retired in favour of Baron Budberg, who was less

favourable to a close alliance with England; and it appears certain

that Oubril would not have broken through his instructions had he not

known of this change. What other motives led him to break faith with

England, Sicily, and Spain are not clearly known. He claimed that the

new order of things in Germany rendered it highly important to get the

French troops out of that land. Doubtless this was so; but even that

benefit would have been dearly bought at the price of disgrace to the

Czar.[83]

Leaving for the present Oubril to face his indignant master, we turn

to notice an epoch-making change, the details of which were settled at

Paris in the midst of the negotiations with England and Russia. On

July 17th was quietly signed the Act of the Confederation of the

Rhine, that destroyed the old Germanic Empire.

Some such event had long been expected. The Holy Roman Empire, after a

thousand years of life, had been stricken unto death at Austerlitz.

The seizure of Hanover by Prussia had led the King of Sweden to

declare that he, for his Pomeranian lands, would take no more share in

the deliberations of the senile Diet at Ratisbon which took no notice

of that outrage. Moreover, Ratisbon was now merely the second city of

Bavaria, whose King might easily deny to that body its local

habitation; and the use of the term Germanic Confederation in the

Treaty of Pressburg sounded the death-knell of an Empire which

Voltaire with equal wit and truth had described as neither holy, nor

Roman, nor an Empire. In the new age of trenchant realities how could

that venerable figment survive--where the election of the Emperor was

a sham, his coronation a mere parade of tattered robes before a crowd

of landless Serenities, and where the Diet was largely concerned with

regulating the claims of the envoys of princes to sit on seats of red

cloth or on the less honourable green cloth, or with apportioning the

traditional thirty-seven dishes of the imperial banquet so that the

last should be borne by a Westphalian envoy?[84]

Among these spectral survivals of an outworn life the incursion of

Napoleon across the Rhine had aroused a panic not unlike that which

the sturdy form of Æneas cast on the gibbering shades of the Greeks in

the mourning fields of Hades. And when, on August 1st, 1806, the heir

to the Revolution notified to the Diet at Ratisbon that neither he nor

the States of South and Central Germany any longer recognized the

existence of the old Empire, feebler protests arose than came from the

straining throats of the scared comrades of Agamemnon. The Diet itself

uttered no audible sound. The Emperor, Francis II., forthwith declared

that he laid down his crown, absolved all the electors and princes

from their allegiance, and retired within the bounds of the Austrian

Empire.

Thus feebly flickered out the light which had shed splendour on

mediæval Christendom. Kindled in the basilica of St. Peter's on

Christmas Day of the year 800 in an almost mystical union of spiritual

and earthly power, by the blessing of Pope Leo on Karl the Great, it

was now trodden under foot by the chief of a more than Frankish State,

who aspired to unquestioned sway over a dominion as great as that of

the mediæval hero. For Napoleon, as Protector of the Rhenish

Confederation, now controlled most of the German lands that

acknowledged Charlemagne, while his hold on Italy was immeasurably

stronger. Further parallels between two ages and systems so unlike as

those of Charlemagne and his imitator are of course superficial; and

Napoleon's attempt at impressing the imagination of the Germans seems

to us to smack of unreality. Yet we must remember that they were then

the most impressionable and docile of nations, that his attempt was

made with much skill, and that none of the appointed guardians of the

old Empire raised a voice in protest while he imposed a constitution

on the fifteen Princes of the new Confederation.

They included the rulers of South Germany, as well as Dalberg the

Arch-Chancellor, who now took the title of Prince Primate, the

Grand-Duke of Berg, the Landgrave, now Grand-Duke, of Hesse-Darmstadt,

two Princes of the House of Nassau, and seven lesser potentates. In

some cases German laws were abolished in favour of the _Code

Napoléon_. A close offensive and defensive alliance was framed between

France and these States, that were to furnish in all 63,000 troops at

the bidding of the Protector. Napoleon also gained some control over

their fiscal and commercial codes--an important advantage, in view of

the Continental System, that was soon to take definite form.[85]

As a set-off to this surrender of all questions of foreign policy and

many internal rights, what did these rulers receive? As happened

almost uniformly in Napoleon's aggrandizements, he struck a bargain

extremely serviceable to himself, less so to those whose support he

sought, and in which the losses fell crushingly on the weak. His

statecraft in this respect was more cynical than that of the crowned

robbers who had degraded eighteenth-century politics into a game of

grab. Their robberies were at least direct and straightforward. It was

reserved for Napoleon at the Treaty of Campo Formio to win huge gains

mostly at the expense of a weak third party, namely, Venice. He

pursued the same profitable tactics in the Secularizations, when

France and the greater German Powers gained enormously at the final

cost of the Church lands and the little States; and now he ground up

the German domains that were to cement his new Rhenish system.

There were still numbers of Imperial Counts and Knights, as well as

free cities, that had not been absorbed in 1803. The survivors were

now wiped out by Napoleon for the benefit of his Rhenish underlings,

the spoliation being veiled under the term _Mediatization_. The

euphemism claims a brief explanation. In old German law the nobles and

cities that gained local independence by shaking off the control of

the local potentate were termed _immediate_, because they owed

allegiance directly to the Emperor, without any feudal intermediary:

if by mischance they fell under that hated control they were said to

be _mediatized_. This term was now applied to acts that subjected the

knight, or city, not to feudal control, but to complete absorption by

the king or prince of Napoleon's creation. Six Imperial or Free Cities

survived the Secularizations, namely, the three Hanse towns, and

Augsburg, Frankfurt, and Nuremberg. The northern towns still held

their ancient rights; but Augsburg and Nuremberg now fell to the King

of Bavaria, and Frankfurt was bestowed by Napoleon on Dalberg, the

Prince Primate of the Confederation.

German life began to lose much of the quaint diversity beloved of

artists and poets; but it also gained much. No longer did the Count of

Limburg-Styrum parade his army of one colonel, six officers, and two

privates in the valley of the Roehr: he and his passed under the sway

of Murat, and the lapse of these pigmy forces made a national army

possible in the dim future. No more did the Imperial lawyers at

Wetzlar browse on evergreen lawsuits: justice was administered after

the concise methods of Napoleon. The crops of the Swabian peasant were

now comparatively safe from the deer of His Translucency of the castle

hard by; for the spirit of the French Revolution breathed upon the old

game laws and robbed them of their terrors. And the German patriot of

to-day must still confess that the first impulse for reform, however

questionable its motives and brutal its application, came from the new

Charlemagne.

NOTE TO THE FOURTH EDITION.--In a volume of Essays entitled

"Napoleonic Studies" (George Bell and Sons, 1904) I have treated

somewhat fully the questions of Pitt's Continental policy, and of

Napoleon's relations to the new thought of the age, in two Essays,

entitled "Pitt's Plans for the Settlement of Europe" and

"Wordsworth, Schiller, Fichte, and the Idealist Revolt against

Napoleon."

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