THE RENEWAL OF WAR
We have now to resume the story of work at the Foreign Office, and
examine—in so far as Talleyrand figures in them—the complicated events
that led to the resumption of hostilities in 1805. The peace with
England had not even an illusory appearance of solidity. Napoleon
described it as “a short armistice;” George III said it was “an
experimental peace.” Napoleon was irritated when Talleyrand used to
say that he would have been willing to leave Malta to the English if
he could have had the treaty signed by Fox or Pitt instead of the
less clear and resolute Addington. But whether or no Napoleon himself
regarded the Peace of Amiens as a stage in the conquest of Europe, it
undoubtedly presented itself in that light very shortly. Once clothed
with the Imperial purple, the mantle of Charlemagne, Napoleon would
see the splendid strategic position he occupied in Europe. We must go
back a little, however, to understand clearly the negotiations in which
Talleyrand was engaged before the second campaign against Austria.
The pretty theory of sharing the world between the Mistress of the Sea
and the Mistress of the Land soon ceased to impose. England was far
from willing to surrender Europe to Napoleon. Such an abandonment would
have meant the closing of all European ports against her commerce, the
closing of the route to India and a descent upon it through Russia, and
the loss of Egypt. She therefore watched Napoleon closely in Europe,
and clung to Malta on the plea that it was to have been put under the
guarantee of the six Powers and four of them would not now carry out
the agreement. Thiers blames Talleyrand for not securing this action on
the part of Russia, Prussia, Austria and Spain, but it is incredible
either that Talleyrand should neglect to press for so serious a
guarantee of peace or that Napoleon should allow him to do so. It was
the sight of Napoleon’s empire creeping out yearly beyond the borders
of France that lit the flame—first of suspicion, finally of war. With
this fatal ambition Talleyrand had no sympathy.
We have already seen how, after the conclusion of peace, Napoleon
annexed Piedmont and Elba, and virtually subjugated Switzerland.
Talleyrand declares that he made every effort to dissuade Napoleon from
incorporating Piedmont, and we have the evidence of Luchesini that he
threatened to resign if Napoleon made himself President of the Swiss
Republic. But Piedmont was Napoleon’s own conquest, as well as the base
of operations in Italy. When England protested against the invasion of
Switzerland, and sent agents there to intrigue against the French, he
caused Talleyrand to write a despatch to the French envoy at London,
in which he unfolded the whole plan of a conquest of Europe, and the
closing of all its ports against England. It is certain that Talleyrand
averted the consequences of this by modifying the message before it was
actually presented at London. Napoleon also complained bitterly of the
protection afforded to royalist conspirators and libellists at London;
and he said that, as Piedmont and Switzerland were not mentioned in the
Treaty of Amiens, England had nothing to do with them.
In the early part of 1803 the strain became greater and greater,
and led quickly to rupture. The English Ambassador at Paris, Lord
Whitworth, was a firm and dignified noble, with instructions to _be_
firm and dignified rather than accommodating. Napoleon had, in January,
published in the French papers a report on the mission of General
Sebastiani to Egypt, the tenor of which was clearly to point to the
practicability of a seizure by the French. When, therefore, Talleyrand
approached Lord Whitworth on the subject of Malta at the close of the
month, he found that England was more determined than ever to keep that
island. Talleyrand made a desperate effort to represent the mission as
commercial, but Napoleon now took up the matter, confessed that it was
_not_ wholly commercial, and made his famous project of an arrangement
between England and France to govern the world. He had received news
of the miscarriage of his West Indian expedition, and now seemed to
contemplate a brilliant venture in the East; but he wanted peace until
his plans were completed. As to Piedmont and Switzerland, they were—he
used a word which Lord Whitworth shrinks from committing to paper.
George III replied by his appeal for the embodiment of the militia and
a further 10,000 men for the Navy. A few days afterwards Napoleon, in
his most tactless manner, blurted out to Whitworth, as he stood in
the circle of ambassadors at the levee: “So you want war?” He was now
convinced that war was inevitable, but he wanted to throw the burden of
declaring it on England.
Early in April Whitworth presented the English terms. Malta must be
retained by England, Holland and Switzerland be evacuated by France
and Elba ceded to her, and the Italian and Ligurian Republics would be
recognized. When Talleyrand disclosed the terms informally to Napoleon,
he would listen to no compromise that would nearly satisfy England. He
prepared another violent charge to be made upon Whitworth at the levee
on May 1st, but the English Ambassador was absent. Napoleon returned
to St. Cloud, and dictated minute and characteristic instructions to
Talleyrand for a last interview with Whitworth. “Be cold, haughty,
and even rather proud in your bearing. If his note contains the word
ultimatum, point out to him that this word includes ‘war,’ and that
such a manner of negotiating is rather that of a superior towards an
inferior; if the letter does not contain the word, force him to insert
it.... Make him apprehensive as to the consequences of delivering such
a note. If he is unshakable, accompany him into your salon. When he is
leaving you, say: ‘Are the Cape and the Island of Gorée evacuated!’
Tone down the close of the interview, and invite him to see you again
before writing home, so that you can tell him what effect it has had on
me.”
All the acting of the accomplished artists was of no avail. The
ultimatum had to be presented by Talleyrand, and he was soundly abused
by Napoleon for doing so. It was submitted to the Council at St. Cloud
on May 11th, and all present except Talleyrand and Joseph Bonaparte
voted for the rejection of the British demands. Lord Whitworth left
Paris on the following day. England declared war on France six days
later. Thus opened the Titanic struggle that was to bring Napoleon
to the dust after ten weary years, and after spreading the flames of
war from Moscow to Madrid. The biographer of Talleyrand has only to
point out that here the Foreign Minister begins to diverge from the
First Consul. We shall find them again in closest co-operation, until
Napoleon’s harsh, arrogant and unworthy treatment of Austria, Prussia,
and Spain compels Talleyrand to leave him; but the divergence begins
in 1803, if not at the end of 1802. Talleyrand disapproved of the
Gallicising of Piedmont and Switzerland, the mission of Sebastiani,
the irritating language of the French official press and official
documents, and the strict insistence on the evacuation of Malta by the
English. He faced and endured the anger of Napoleon by his opposition.
Napoleon to some extent declined to use him in the negotiations with
England on account of his pacific feeling; Whitworth is said to have
avoided him somewhat because of his “corruption.” But he stands out
clearly in this crisis as a friend of peace and humanity, a wise and
honest adviser, a firm opponent of Napoleon’s growing and benighting
ambition. Meantime, while Napoleon is devising means to overleap the
great barrier of his plans, the English Channel, we have to follow
Talleyrand in the complicated negotiations with which he fought England
for the alliance or the neutrality of the continental Powers.
Talleyrand was already in diplomatic correspondence with Russia,
Prussia and Austria, about the “perfidy” of England in refusing to
carry out the chief enactment of the Treaty of Amiens—the evacuation
of Malta. The impressionable young Tsar was touched, and complained
of the obscurity of England’s aims. Napoleon at once proposed that he
should mediate between the belligerents, and for some months he was
understood to be prepared to negotiate in this sense. As a fact he was
deeply engrossed in humanitarian reform in his own country, and he had
a growing suspicion of Napoleon’s aims. After prolonged communications
he succeeded in drawing Prussia into a defensive alliance (May 24th,
1805) against France. This was a serious diplomatic defeat for
Talleyrand, who had at the same time been endeavouring to secure the
Prussian alliance. He had, in fact, concentrated his efforts to obtain
at least a benevolent neutrality from Berlin. “Do not be afraid of that
mountain of snow, Russia,” he wrote. Napoleon distributed honours at
the Prussian Court, and made generous offers of terms, but the deeply
perplexed and anxious successor of Frederic the Great ended his long
vacillation by concluding a treaty with his friend, the Tsar.
It would be useless here to describe in any detail the diplomatic
work of the next two years (from the declaration of war by England to
the opening of the campaign in 1805). Talleyrand’s task was to meet
and defeat the effort of Pitt to raise up a fresh coalition against
Napoleon. He made a loyal and brilliant effort to do so, but entirely
failed. Napoleon’s encroachments were too obvious, his power in Europe
too menacing, his concessions in diplomacy too tardy and niggardly to
enable him to resist the power of English gold and the zeal of the
alienated Tsar. His only successes were of an inglorious character.
He forced helpless Spain to acquiesce in the sale of Louisiana to the
United States for eighty millions, and to send seventy-two millions a
year to the French treasury. Napoleon assisted his diplomacy in this
case with two arguments: the formation of a huge military camp near the
Spanish frontier, and a threat to draw the attention of Europe to the
delicate relations of the Spanish Queen and leading minister.
In the course of the year 1804, Russia was approached by England,
and the Tsar showed a willingness to enter into an alliance for the
control of Napoleon and in the interest of Europe. The mercantile
differences which had kept the two nations apart were gradually
adjusted, and a treaty was concluded in April, 1805. Gustavus IV of
Sweden was already engaged to Russia in the same sense. Austria, too,
was bound by a secret agreement with Russia (November 6th, 1804) if
Napoleon made any further aggression in Italy, or threatened the
integrity of Turkey. Thus by the middle of 1805 a formidable coalition
was in existence. The correspondence of Talleyrand with Napoleon
during that period is an amazing indication of activity. He keeps the
Emperor informed of events in Turkey and Sweden, Russia and England,
Prussia and Austria; he sends the news from the surgeons who are
with the armies and the secret agents who are plotting and observing
from Ireland to Persia; he tells the latest marriages at Paris, the
dissipations of the ambassadors, the small scandals, so finely told,
that will relieve Napoleon’s leisure hours.[40] There was no lack
of spirit or ability in his work, but Napoleon had cast for war and
it could at the most only be postponed. When Talleyrand evaded the
task of writing the violent letters he directed to be sent to foreign
Courts, he wrote them himself. The Prussian Ambassador informed his
Court that Napoleon was forced into war in order to cover his enormous
accumulation of men at Boulogne for the ostensible purpose of attacking
England.
The spark that lit the conflagration was Napoleon’s descent into Italy
in May, 1805. Talleyrand accompanied him to Milan. On May 26th he
crowned himself King of Italy with the famous iron crown of the Lombard
Kings, directed that a series of splendid spectacles should impress
upon the astounded nations this last stroke of the effrontery of
genius. The Ligurian or Genoese Republic was at the same time declared
to be incorporated in the French Empire. Austria was now bound by her
agreement with Russia to take action and she began to move her forces.
Talleyrand went back to Paris with Napoleon but at the close of August
we find he has joined the Emperor at Boulogne. By this time all hope of
invading England was over. The combined French and Spanish fleet had
retreated to Cadiz. With a phrase Napoleon converted the huge army,
stretching nine miles along the coast, into “the army of Germany,”
wheeled it about to face Austria, and set out for Paris to make his
final preparations.
Talleyrand followed Napoleon to Strassburg towards the close of
September. On the day that the Emperor was to leave for the field
Talleyrand dined with him, and was greatly alarmed when Napoleon
fell into a fit, which lasted half an hour. He made the Foreign
Minister promise to keep it a secret, and was off in half an hour to
Carlsruhe.[41] The letters he writes to Napoleon at this time exhale
the old perfume. “He is afflicted beyond expression” to hear that he
will learn nothing of Napoleon for five or six days. In another letter
he says: “Your Majesty will always be deceived if you expect to find in
other kings the grandeur of soul, the loftiness of sentiments, and the
firmness of character that distinguish you.” This is a little rank, but
there are other indications besides these letters that the old intimacy
and confidence had been restored. Talleyrand had bitterly regretted the
events at Milan, but, with his usual acceptance of accomplished facts,
he was hoping that the defeat of Austria (of which he could entertain
no doubt) would relieve Napoleon’s ardour and pave the way for peace.
He wrote to d’Hauterive that the best thing would be for Napoleon to
give up the kingdom of Italy, force Austria to abandon Venice, find
her compensation in Germany, and enter into an alliance with her. That
would remove grounds of quarrel in Italy. At the same time he prepared
a memorandum, and even a treaty, to submit to Napoleon after the defeat
of Austria. Italy was to be given up, Switzerland declared neutral, and
the territory exacted of Austria to be divided among the small German
States that had joined France.
He sent this admirable memorandum to Napoleon on the day he heard of
the victory at Ulm. It had not sufficient of the arrogance of the
conqueror in it for Napoleon. He submitted it as the subject of a
discussion in Council, but the continued success of his arms made him
ambitious to dictate “better” terms. The news of Trafalgar—Talleyrand
broke it to him in his happiest manner: “Genius and good fortune
were in Germany”—did not arrest him, or, indeed, forced him to look
yet more to continental expansion now that his colonial scheme was
shattered. He mistook Talleyrand’s sagacity and good sense for a puling
humanitarianism. From Munich they passed on to Vienna, where Talleyrand
had to press Napoleon’s harsh terms on Austria’s despairing statesmen.
On December 1st he again framed a sober and reasonable treaty, but the
next day occurred the battle of Austerlitz. “The Emperor Alexander,”
he says bitterly in his memoirs, “was rather bored at Olmütz; he had
never witnessed a battle, and he wanted to see the fun.” Talleyrand
was exasperated against Russia and Austria for not coming to terms
earlier. The day after Austerlitz he crossed the field with Marshal
Lannes, and saw even that hardened soldier turn away with a feeling
of sickness. He saw Napoleon established in the house of an Austrian
prince, and the proudest flags and distinguished commanders of the two
beaten nations brought to his feet.[42] He felt how difficult it would
be now to restrain the conqueror, though he made one more eloquent
appeal to him not to ruin Austria and sow a harvest of hatred on the
frontier of France. Napoleon shook aside the appeal with a suspicion
that Talleyrand must have been bought.
From Austerlitz he went to Brünn, and there heard with increased
disgust that the Prussian Ambassador, Haugwitz, had signed a treaty
of alliance with Napoleon. “Was it crime or folly?” Talleyrand asks.
Prussia had agreed with Russia to offer armed mediation to Napoleon,
and to make war on him if he did not accept it by December 15th.
Instead of this, Haugwitz was bullied and bribed (by the offer of
Hanover) into signing an alliance. Talleyrand hurried on to Pressburg
to meet the Austrian envoys. Those who are tempted to conceive him
as indolent would do well to read his letters at this time. At five
in the morning of the 23rd he writes to tell Napoleon that he was
half-blinded in crossing the frozen Danube, and so could not write
earlier (evidently there are no obscure assistants doing the work for
him here), but is now resuming work. At two on the following morning he
tells that he has had a twelve hours’ conference with the Austrians,
and will begin again at eight. But Napoleon was inexorable. The only
modification of the terms that he would grant was a reduction of the
indemnity by ten million francs. Austria had to part with Venice,
Tyrol, Friuli, Istria, and Dalmatia, and to recognise the kingdom of
Italy. That was Napoleon’s reply to Talleyrand’s memorandum. He had
begun to sow the dragon’s teeth. The Austrian ministers were forced
to sign the Treaty on January 1st. The only service Talleyrand could
render them was to make the terms free from ambiguity. This action was
described by Napoleon as “infamous and corrupt.” Talleyrand knew his
master. Once before, when someone was giving him instructions from
Napoleon as to the framing of the Cisalpine Constitution, and was
telling him to make it “short and clear,” Talleyrand interrupted him
with the words: “Yes, short and obscure.”
Mr. Holland Rose fully admits the unwisdom of Napoleon in rejecting
Talleyrand’s plan of settlement, but he thinks it rather due to the
idea of a “continental system” against England than to mere lust of
domination. The very scanty sea frontier of Austria made her a matter
of indifference in Napoleon’s plan of excluding England from Europe;
it was far more important to win Prussia and Russia, and the Northern
States. No one will question that the dream of the universal closing of
ports was at work in the Treaty, but it does not explain some of the
worst features of Napoleon’s divergence from Talleyrand. In any case,
it is unquestionable that, as Talleyrand says, “moderation began to
desert Napoleon after the Peace of Amiens,” and each fresh victory—Ulm,
Austerlitz, Jena, Friedland—increased his insensibility to the sound
law that a harsh and insolent settlement is not final. This is the just
and honourable ground of that dissidence of feeling on the part of
Talleyrand that culminated in “desertion.”
In January they returned to Paris. Napoleon arrived there at midnight
of the 26th, and he opened a financial council at eight the following
morning. His minister was scarcely less active. In the midst of his
distinctive labours he had found time to study the financial disorder
at home, and had submitted to Napoleon a new plan of a bank. Now that
they were in Paris again the work of settlement had to be resumed.
Haugwitz arrived on February 1st with fresh proposals from the King of
Prussia, who had refused to ratify his outrageous treaty of Schönbrunn
until peace was concluded with England. Napoleon’s whole policy being
directed against England, he took advantage of Prussia’s delay to
declare the treaty of Schönbrunn annulled, and make Talleyrand draw
up a fresh one which bound Prussia to join the system by closing the
Elbe and Weser against England. The new treaty was ratified at Berlin
before the end of February. France had ceded Hanover to Prussia as her
reward, but Hanover belonged to England. Moreover, a few weeks later
Napoleon made his brother Louis King of Holland, as he had already
made Joseph King of Naples. The second chief ground of Talleyrand’s
divergence from Napoleon—the setting up of thrones for his family—was
beginning to appear. “I don’t understand your way of doing business at
all,” said Napoleon angrily to him, when he allowed the King of Prussia
to state that the occupation of Hanover had been forced on him. There
was “business” enough to do in the six months that followed. Besides
trouble with the Vatican and renewed trouble with Austria, as well as
the establishment of Louis and Joseph in Holland and Naples, there were
important negotiations with England, Prussia, Russia and the great work
of forming the Rhine Confederation.
Fox had returned to office in England, and had opened communications
by sending information to Paris of a plot (often thought to be a
diplomatic one) against the Emperor’s life. Talleyrand eagerly followed
up the opening, and expressed willingness to treat with England
by means of Lord Yarmouth, who had been detained as a prisoner at
Verdun. Yarmouth went to London with an assurance that France was not
hopelessly fixed as regards Hanover, and returned full of hope on June
16th. But Napoleon’s vulpine diplomacy was again overruling Talleyrand.
He had forced him to promise Prussia secretly that France would not
sacrifice Hanover, and to open separate negotiations with Russia. The
only difficulties that Napoleon recognised, Talleyrand says, were those
that force cannot overcome. His minister had now to conduct a most
complex and mendacious communication with the three Powers, though it
might be pleaded in extenuation that the Powers were also endeavouring
to outwit each other. The policy of England was comparatively
straight—so straight, in fact, that it was her minister who innocently
betrayed Napoleon’s duplicity. But while England refused to negotiate
a peace independently of Russia, that Power was endeavouring to
make a separate treaty with France, and deceiving England as to her
unfriendly designs on Turkey; while she was at the same time concluding
a secret agreement against France with Prussia. The latter Power,
secretly signing the treaty against France on July 1st with Russia,
was receiving from Napoleon the reassurance of Hanover (already
promised by France to England) and entertaining proposals from him
for her aggrandisement in Germany. France was simultaneously offering
Hanover to England and Prussia, was secretly creating a great German
confederation and denying to England and Prussia that she contemplated
any changes in Germany, was playing with England until she could secure
the separate alliance with Russia, and was secretly raising opposition
to the latter Power in Turkey. And amidst this maze of negotiations and
intrigue Talleyrand was coolly creating the Rhine Confederation and
dealing with the huge crowd of German delegates who besieged the Hotel
Galiffet with further demands for plunder or redress.
This network of intrigue broke by its own weight, and the sword of
Napoleon did the rest before the close of the year. A Russian envoy
arrived at Paris about the very date when the Tsar was concluding
his secret alliance with Prussia against Napoleon. As in an earlier
episode with Austria, the envoy was worried into going far beyond his
powers and signing a treaty with France. He afterwards declared that
Talleyrand terrified him with a threat that, unless he signed, Austria
would again be attacked and annihilated. As soon as the Russian envoy
had gone Talleyrand turned to Lord Yarmouth, and threatened that
Portugal would be invaded unless England came to terms. Yarmouth in
the meantime had betrayed to the Prussian Ambassador the French offer
to give up Hanover, and Napoleon intercepted dispatches in which the
Ambassador urged his Court to appeal to Russia. Moreover, Talleyrand
had denied to Yarmouth that any changes were contemplated in Germany,
although he must have already completed the scheme of the Rhine
Confederation, and it was published a few days afterwards. England
thereupon sent Lord Lauderdale to support, and eventually supersede,
Yarmouth. Talleyrand says this was done “to please Lord Grenville,”
but his dislike of Lauderdale is clearly due to the fact that he now
had stiffer material to deal with. In August he wrote to Napoleon:
“The claims of Lord Lauderdale over his slain sailor, and the fuss he
makes of the affair, are the acts of a man who has been all his life a
clubman and parliamentary declaimer, and does not know that an incident
that may make a great scene between two parties is generally one that
vanishes before more precise information and moderate explanations.”
Talleyrand was as ardent as ever for peace with England. Napoleon
leaned just as strongly to his continental system against England. The
march of events frustrated Talleyrand’s pacific aim once more. On the
strength of his treaty with Russia, Napoleon made Talleyrand present
exorbitant terms to Lauderdale, who demanded his passports. “Delay
him a little,” said Napoleon; “tell him I am hunting and will be back
soon.” He was hoping to hear of the ratification of the Russian treaty.
He heard instead that the Tsar refused to sign it, and had appointed
a Gallophobe minister. He still, however, refused to meet England by
withdrawing his demand for Sicily, and in a week or two the whole
intrigue came to a close in war with Prussia.
The betrayal of Napoleon’s duplicity in regard to Hanover had caused
a very natural and dangerous agitation in Prussia. This was more
than doubled when the Act of the Confederation of the Rhine was
signed and published in July. The new kings created by Napoleon
in 1805 (Wurtemburg, Baden, and Bavaria), in the partition of the
ecclesiastical territory on the Rhine, had attempted to exercise
the full feudal rights of the old Empire. The smaller princes, free
towns, and “immediate” nobles appealed against them to France, and a
fresh settlement was necessary. In co-operation with Bishop Dalberg,
Talleyrand (who had now a new ex-clerical assistant, La Besnardière)
began the work of settling disputes and drafting the chief of the
smaller states into a Rhein-Bund, to be controlled by Napoleon.
Only the representatives of Wurtemberg, Baden, and Bavaria were to
be admitted to a share in the secret construction, but the rumour of
it brought a flock of Teutonic envoys to beset the Hotel Galiffet,
while Prussian, English, and Austrian spies hovered restlessly about.
The Act was completed by the middle of July, and all the south German
princelings were admitted to sign it. It is usual to point out here
that Talleyrand once more reaped a rich harvest for his work. No one
would question that he, as usual, accepted presents from the States
that benefitted by admission. But here again charges have been endorsed
without the least discrimination. Count von Senfft, who is more or less
friendly to Talleyrand, should be the safest witness to rely upon.
Senfft, however, tells us that Talleyrand made use of Von Gagern “in
his financial relations with the German princes”; whereas Von Gagern,
while confessing a belief that Talleyrand did make a lot of money
somehow, gives us his solemn and credible assurance that not a farthing
passed between them in connection with the Rhine Confederation.[43]
There can be no doubt that Talleyrand’s profit has been grossly
exaggerated. On the political side it is not questioned that the new
creation was a great advantage to France, however selfish her motive
may have been; it raised a bulwark against Prussia and Russia, and
provided a fresh army to Napoleon of 63,000 men. Nor is it questioned
that the unification and the adoption of the Napoleonic Code brought
great advantages to the States involved.
The work of the year seems to have increased Napoleon’s appreciation
of Talleyrand in spite of occasional suspicion and annoyance. In June
he bestowed on his foreign minister the papal fief of Benevento, with
the title of Prince. He had appropriated Benevento and Ponte Corvo
on the ground that they led to incessant friction between Rome and
Naples. Talleyrand merely claims that his rule in Benevento sheltered
that little principality “from all spoliation and from conscription.”
His biographers have not done him justice in the matter. Not only did
Talleyrand abstain from making profit out of his gift, but he at once
dispatched to Italy a humane and enlightened governor, and had a policy
carried out in the sleepy and retrograde province that was of immense
service to it.[44] On his side Talleyrand seems to have retained
for some time the feeling of disappointment produced by Napoleon’s
treatment of Austria. There is a distinct coolness in his letters
throughout the spring and summer. But Napoleon overcame his repugnance,
and they set out together for the Prussian campaign in apparent
cordiality. At all events it is recorded that Napoleon wept on leaving
Talleyrand at Mayence.
If Prussia had joined with the Austrians and Russians before
Austerlitz, Napoleon’s position would have been very serious. He
contrived to keep Haugwitz on the move until after that battle, and
then persuaded him to sign an alliance. By the time Prussia learned how
much she was really despised at Paris—a contempt in which Talleyrand
now entirely joined with D’Hauterive—Austria was powerless, Russia
had demobilised, and England was so far alienated that her offer of
assistance only arrived after Jena. But when the news of the secret
creation of the Rhine Confederation came on top of the exasperation
over Hanover, the national temper was raised to white heat, and the
King flung out a single-handed challenge to Napoleon. It was not
without anxiety that Napoleon confronted the Prussian forces for the
first time; and Talleyrand expresses real concern in his letters from
Mayence, where he is staying with the Empress and the Queen of Holland.
“Three days without news of you,” he writes, “are three centuries
of anxiety and pain.” He warns Napoleon that there is a plot to
assassinate him amongst the Prussian officers. At last (October 14th)
comes the report of Jena. Within one month of their leaving Paris he is
in Berlin with Napoleon, and sees the Emperor proudly dictating notes
to his army in the cabinet of Frederick the Great.
Talleyrand remained at Berlin until the end of November, but Napoleon,
who was bent on crushing Prussia as he had crushed Austria, began to
dispense with the services of his moderate councillor. Talleyrand had
nothing to do with the insulting bulletins issued from the Prussian
capital, or the Berlin Decree against England. Indeed, he affirms that
in view of Napoleon’s attitude towards Prussia and Spain (which had
just shown a not obscure sign of revolt) he resolved to resign his
position as soon as they returned to France. He did this, as a matter
of fact, but he had much to see and to do before reaching Paris once
more. Napoleon brushed aside the Prussian negotiators at Berlin, and
marched on to Posen to deal with Russia. Talleyrand joined him there,
found him harangueing a deputation of Poles (got up by Murat) on
national greatness, and telling them they will be a nation when they
furnish him with an army of 40,000 men. Talleyrand also says that he
found Napoleon reading a list of pictures to be taken to Paris from the
Dresden galleries, and succeeded in preventing the raid. They moved on
to Warsaw, where Napoleon left him to go and “shove these new Europeans
[the Russians] back into their former limits.” He made a bad beginning
at Pultusk, but returned to Warsaw as bombastic as ever, and spent
several weeks in infusing military ardour into Poland and extracting
an army from it. Talleyrand profited by the Emperor’s temporary check
to save the lives of a few small places (Anhalt, Lippé, Waldeck,
Reuss, and Schwartzburg) by including them in the Rhine Confederation.
Napoleon wanted them for Murat, and did not thank his Foreign Minister
for again thwarting him.
But the service rendered by Talleyrand to Napoleon during that winter
in Poland was considerable. Napoleon did not at first set a stirring
example. He fell into a period of sensuality, and, says Talleyrand,
“laid his glory publicly enough at the feet of a beautiful Pole.” The
Countess Anastase Walewska, then only seventeen years old, aspired
to influence the Emperor in the interest of her country, and only
succeeded in making the winter pass pleasantly for him at the castle
of Finkenstein. Von Gagern, who met her and her son afterwards at
Paris, was at Warsaw, and says that Talleyrand told him one day he was
unwilling any longer to be “an instrument in the hand of the destroying
angel of Europe.” He was at that time acting, not only as diplomatic
minister in the continuous correspondence with Austria and Prussia, but
as chief military agent. Napoleon had appointed an incompetent governor
at Warsaw, and had enjoined Talleyrand to see to the commissariat and
transport of the army. “To-day,” the Emperor writes on March 12th, “the
fate of Europe and the greatest calculations depend on supplies. It
will be child’s play to beat the Russians if I have food. Whatever you
do will be done well. The charge I entrust to you is more important
than all the negotiations in the world.” The hundred letters that
Talleyrand writes to him during those four months—letters clearly
written with his own hand—reflect an amazing activity. He is seeing,
amid tremendous difficulties, that the Emperor gets 50,000 rations of
biscuits and 2,000 pints of brandy, and so on, every day: he has had to
settle a strike of the transport servants and the bakers: he has been
round the military hospitals, distributing gifts from the Emperor, and
“listening to the little requests” of the wounded soldiers; he sends
the latest information about the state of the roads and the finances,
the movements of the enemy, the dissipations of the Court at Warsaw,
the important and interesting passages in the French and English
journals, the progress of negotiations with Austria, Turkey, Prussia,
&c. His carriage is fired at by guerillas as he travels, or sticks in
the mud for hours together. He has at times to put up with the most
wretched accommodation.
But Baron von Gagern makes a superfluous conjecture when he fancies the
laborious stay in Poland had any influence on Talleyrand’s attitude
towards Napoleon. There are more obvious grounds for the divergence.
On the whole, Talleyrand’s feeling at this time was much the same as
before Ulm and Austerlitz. He was waiting to see what use would be made
of the new successes. He sends cordial messages to the Emperor, and
performs his heavy duties loyally and well, with an occasional furtive
departure for some humane motive. One day he comes to tell Von Gagern
that a young Prussian count is in the Russian camp, and must be got
away at once or Napoleon will hear and inflict heavy punishment. Von
Gagern learns through Austria that the Count is seriously ill. “That
is a mere empty phrase to the Emperor,” says Talleyrand, and insists on
his removal. He was transferred without the matter coming to Napoleon’s
ears, and his house was saved. Von Gagern adds that Talleyrand refused
to take a single florin for the service he had rendered.
On the other hand he refused and returned four million florins that
were put in the hands of his confidant, Baron Dalberg, by the Poles.
Talleyrand rather despised the Poles as an incompetent and quarrelsome
people. He resisted all efforts to induce him to take up their cause.
The caresses of Princess Poniatowski and Countess Tyszkiewicz had no
more effect than the offer of money, though they modified his dislike
of Poland, and made him say in the end that he “quitted it with regret.”
At last the Russian winter dissolved and Napoleon moved his forces.
On February 8th came the news of Eylau, “a battle more or less won,”
Talleyrand says. Von Gagern found him in good spirits because he was
empowered to offer moderate terms to Prussia, but the negotiations fell
through, and he had to wait for the decisive overthrow of Russia. It
was about this time that Napoleon once fell asleep in the room with
him, and Talleyrand remained in his chair the whole night so as not to
awake him. Then came Friedland (June 14th), and Talleyrand, who had
left Warsaw in May, made a stirring appeal to the Emperor for peace.
He trusts it is his “last victory” and a “guarantee of peace.” But
the disappointment of the preceding year was to be repeated, and he
was to see Napoleon’s soaring ambition take a flight that he could
not follow. The Tsar, though he knew Austria was preparing for action
and Tartar reinforcements were on the way, arranged an armistice with
Napoleon, and Prussia had to do the same. The proceedings that followed
when the two Emperors met at Tilsit completed Talleyrand’s repugnance
to Napoleon’s policy. Victory was once more made the step to a further
war. The whole of Europe was now to be enlisted against England in the
long dreamed of “continental system.” Alexander was exasperated against
England for her failure to support him, and listened eagerly to the
new idea of sharing the world between France and Russia (Napoleon’s
“new Europeans” of nine months ago). Whether or no it is true that
Alexander’s first words to Napoleon, as he stepped on to the raft in
the middle of the Niemen (which fitted so well in “the poem of his
life,” says Talleyrand), were: “I hate the English as much as you do,
and I will second you in all your projects against them,”[45] the whole
arrangement concluded was directed against England. Prussia and Russia
were forced into the continental system. Prussia was humbled to the
dust, and reduced from nine to four million inhabitants. Talleyrand
says Alexander thought he had “done all that friendship required
for the King of Prussia in nominally preserving half his kingdom.” He
saw the Tsar’s eyes sparkle when Napoleon, on receiving news of the
deposition of the Sultan, spoke to him, “with an air of submitting to
the decrees of Providence,” of an inevitable dismemberment of Turkey.
But Napoleon told Talleyrand privately that not a word must be said in
the treaty about Turkey, or about Moldavia and Wallachia, which also he
had dangled before the eyes of the Tsar.
[Illustration: ALEXANDER I., EMPEROR OF RUSSIA.]
Talleyrand was disgusted at Napoleon’s brutal treatment of Prussia.
He had several tender interviews with the Prussian Queen, and she
spoke to him with great feeling at her departure. He had also several
private interviews with Alexander, and, although he greatly disliked
that monarch’s betrayal of Prussia, he won an influence over him which
was to have historic importance. At the time it is possible, perhaps,
to trace Talleyrand’s moderating influence in one or two details of
the Treaty. He had, however, rigid instructions from Napoleon, and he
had to sign the treaty with Prussia without having had any share in
making it. There is a story of his betraying the secret articles to
England. It rests on no authority, and Mr. Holland Rose has shown in
his “Napoleonic Studies” that it is completely untenable.
He returned to Paris in August, and immediately resigned the foreign
ministry. The separation was made in apparent amity. In a letter of
August 10th (1807) Talleyrand tells the Emperor he is performing his
last act as foreign minister, but “the first and last sentiment of my
life will be gratitude and devotion.” Napoleon was no less polite. He
created a rich sinecure, the Vice-grand Electorship, for Talleyrand. He
dropped his pilot with grace and forged ahead—towards the rocks. When
Paris heard of Talleyrand’s new appointment, it said: “Another vice for
him.”