DISASTER IN SPAIN—ALEXANDER AND NAPOLEON IN COUNCIL—NAPOLEON AT MADRID
Napoleon amazed at this unexpected popular uprising in Spain, and angry
that the spell of invincibility under which his armies had fought, was
broken, resolved to undertake the Peninsular war himself. But before a
campaign in Spain could be entered upon, it was necessary to know that
all the inner and outer wheels of the great machine he had devised for
dividing the world and crushing England were revolving perfectly.
Since the treaty of Tilsit he had done much at home for this machine.
The finances were in splendid condition. Public works of great
importance were going on all over the kingdom; the court was luxurious
and brilliant, and the money it scattered, encouraged the commercial and
manufacturing classes. Never had _fêtes_ been more brilliant than those
which welcomed Napoleon back to Paris in 1807; never had the season at
Fontainebleau been gayer or more magnificent than it was that year.
All of those who had been instrumental in bringing prosperity and order
to France were rewarded in 1807 with splendid gifts from the indemnities
levied on the enemies. The marshals of the Grand Army received from
eighty thousand to two hundred thousand dollars apiece; twenty-five
generals were given forty thousand dollars each; the civil functionaries
were not forgotten; thus Monsieur de Ségur received forty thousand
dollars as a sign of the emperor’s gratification at the way he had
administered etiquette in the young court.
It was at this period that Napoleon founded a new nobility as a further
means of rewarding those who had rendered brilliant services to France.
This institution was designed, too, as a means of reconciling old and
new France. It created the title of prince, duke, count, baron, and
knight; and those receiving these titles were at the same time given
domains in the conquered provinces, sufficient to permit them to
establish themselves in good style.
The drawing up of the rules which were to govern this new order occupied
the gravest men of the country, Cambacérès, Saint-Martin, Hauterive,
Portalis, Pasquier. Among other duties they had to prepare the armorial
bearings. Napoleon refused to allow the crown to go on the new
escutcheons. He wished no one but himself to have a right to use that
symbol. A substitute was found in the panache, the number of plumes
showing the rank.
Napoleon used the new favors at his command freely, creating in all,
after 1807, forty-eight thousand knights, one thousand and ninety
barons, three hundred and eighty-eight counts, thirty-one dukes, and
three princes. All members of the old nobility who were supporting his
government were given titles, but not those which they formerly held.
Naturally this often led to great dissatisfaction, the bearers of
ancient names preferring a lower rank which had been their family’s for
centuries to one higher, but unhallowed by time and tradition. Thus
Madame de Montmorency rebelled obstinately against being made a
countess,—she had been a baroness under the old _régime_,—and, as the
Montmorencys claimed the honor of being called the first Christian
barons, she felt justly that the old title was a far prouder one than
any Napoleon could give her. But a countess she had to remain.
In his efforts to win for himself the services of all those whom blood
and fortune had made his natural supporters, the emperor tried again to
reconcile Lucien. In November, 1807, Napoleon visited Italy, and at
Mantua a secret interview took place between the brothers. Lucien, in
his “Memoirs,” gives a dramatic description of the way in which Napoleon
spread the kingdoms of half a world before him and offered him his
choice.
“He struck a great blow with his hand in the middle of the immense
map of Europe which was extended on the table, by the side of which
we were standing. ‘Yes, choose,’ he said; ‘you see I am not talking
in the air. All this is mine, or will soon belong to me; I can
dispose of it already. Do you want Naples? I will take it from
Joseph, who, by the by, does not care for it; he prefers
Mortefontaine, Italy—the most beautiful jewel in my imperial crown?
Eugène is but viceroy, and, far from despising it, he hopes only
that I shall give it to him, or, at least, leave it to him if he
survives me; he is likely to be disappointed in waiting, for I shall
live ninety years. I must, for the perfect consolidation of my
empire. Besides, Eugène will not suit me in Italy after his mother
is divorced. Spain? Do you not see it falling into the hollow of my
hand, thanks to the blunders of my dear Bourbons, and to the follies
of your friend, the Prince of Peace? Would you not be well pleased
to reign there, where you have been only ambassador? Once for all,
what do you want? Speak! Whatever you wish, or can wish, is yours,
if your divorce precedes mine.’”
Until midnight the two brothers wrestled with the question between them.
Neither would abandon his position; and when Lucien finally went away,
his face was wet with tears. To Méneval, who conducted him to his inn in
the town, he said, in bidding him carry his farewell to the emperor, “It
may be forever.” It was not. Seven years later the brothers met again,
but the map of Europe was forever rolled up for Napoleon.
The essential point in carrying out the Tilsit plan was, the fidelity of
Alexander; and Napoleon resolved, before going into the Spanish war, to
meet the Emperor of Russia. This was the more needful, because Austria
had begun to show signs of hostility.
[Illustration:
ALEXANDER I. OF RUSSIA. 1805.]
The meeting took place in September, 1807, at Erfurt, in Saxony, and
lasted a month. Napoleon acted as host, and prepared a splendid
entertainment for his guests. The company he had gathered was most
brilliant. Beside the Russian and French emperors, with ambassadors and
suites, were the Kings of Saxony, Bavaria, and Würtemberg, the Prince
Primate, the Grand Duke and Grand Duchess of Baden, the Dukes of Saxony,
and the Princes of the Confederation of the Rhine.
The palaces where the emperors were entertained, were furnished with
articles from the _Garde-Meuble_ of France. The leading actors of the
_Théâtre Français_ gave the best French tragedies to a house where there
was, as Napoleon had promised Talma, a “parterre full of kings.” There
was a hare hunt on the battle-field of Jena, to which even Prince
William of Prussia was invited, and where the party breakfasted on the
spot where Napoleon had bivouacked in 1806, the night before the battle.
There were balls where Alexander danced, “but not I,” wrote the emperor
to Josephine; “forty years are forty years.” Goethe and Wieland were
both presented to Napoleon at Erfurt, and the emperor had long
conversations with them.
In spite of these gayeties Napoleon and Alexander found time to renew
their Tilsit agreement. They were to make war and peace together.
Alexander was to uphold Napoleon in giving Joseph the throne of Spain,
and to keep the continent tranquil during the Peninsular war. Napoleon
was to support Alexander in getting possession of Finland, Moldavia, and
Wallachia. The two emperors were to write and sign a letter inviting
England to join them in peace negotiations.
[Illustration:
MARSHAL LEFEBVRE. ABOUT 1796.
Engraved in 1798 by Fiesinger, after Mengelberg.]
This was done promptly; but when England insisted that representatives
of the government which was acting in Spain in the name of Ferdinand
VII. should be admitted to the proposed meeting, the peace negotiations
abruptly ended. Under the circumstances Napoleon could not recognize
that government.
The emperor was ready to conduct the Spanish war. His first move was to
send into the country a large body of veterans from Germany. Before this
time the army had been made up of young recruits upon whom the Spanish
looked with contempt. The men, inexperienced and demoralized by the kind
of guerrilla warfare which was waged against them, had become
discouraged. The worst feature of their case was that they did not
believe in the war. That brave story-teller Marbot relates frankly how
he felt:
“As a soldier I was bound to fight any one who attacked the French
army, but I could not help recognizing in my inmost conscience that
our cause was a bad one, and that the Spaniards were quite right in
trying to drive out strangers who, after coming among them in the
guise of friends, were wishing to dethrone their sovereign and take
forcible possession of the kingdom. This war, therefore, seemed to
me wicked; but I was a soldier, and I must march or be charged with
cowardice. The greater part of the army thought as I did, and, like
me, obeyed orders all the same.”
The appearance of the veterans and the presence of the emperor at once
put a new face on the war; the morale of the army was raised, and the
respect of the Spaniards inspired.
The emperor speedily made his way to Madrid, though he had to fight
three battles to get there, and began at once a work of reorganization.
Decree followed decree. Feudal rights were abolished, the inquisition
was ended, the number of convents was reduced, the custom-houses between
the various provinces were done away with, a political and military
programme was made out for King Joseph. Many bulletins were sent to the
Spanish people. In all of them they were told that it was the English
who were their enemies, not their allies; that they came to the
Peninsular not to help, but to inspire to false confidence, and to lead
them astray. Napoleon’s plan and purpose could not be mistaken.
“Spaniards [he proclaimed at Madrid], your destinies are in my
hands. Reject the poison which the English have spread among you;
let your king be certain of your love and your confidence, and you
will be more powerful and happier than ever. I have destroyed all
that was opposed to your prosperity and greatness; I have broken the
fetters which weighed upon the people; a liberal constitution gives
you, instead of an absolute, a tempered and constitutional monarchy.
It depends upon you that this constitution shall become law. But if
all my efforts prove useless, and if you do not respond to my
confidence, it will only remain for me to treat you as conquered
provinces, and to find my brother another throne. I shall then place
the crown of Spain on my own head, and I shall know how to make the
wicked tremble; for God has given me the power and the will
necessary to surmount all obstacles.”
But a flame had been kindled in Spain which no number of Napoleonic
bulletins could quench—a fanatical frenzy inspired by the priests, a
blind passion of patriotism. The Spaniards wanted their own, even if it
was feudal and oppressive. A constitution which they had been forced to
accept, seemed to them odious and shameful, if liberal.
The obstinacy and horror of their resistance was nowhere so tragic and
so heroic as at the siege of Saragossa, going on at the time Napoleon,
at Madrid, was issuing his decrees and proclamations. Saragossa had been
fortified when the insurrection against King Joseph broke out. The town
was surrounded by convents, which were turned into forts. Men, women,
and children took up arms, and the priests, cross in hand, and dagger at
the belt, led them. No word of surrender was tolerated within the walls.
At the beginning Napoleon regarded the defence of Saragossa as a small
affair, and wished to try persuasion on the people. There was at Paris a
well known Aragon noble whom he urged to go to Saragossa and calm the
popular excitement. The man accepted the mission. When he arrived in the
town the people hurried forth to meet him, supposing he had come to aid
in the resistance. At the first word of submission he spoke he was
assailed by the mob, and for nearly a year lay in a dungeon.
The peasants of the vicinity of Saragossa were quartered in the town,
each family being given a house to defend. Nothing could drive them from
their posts. They took an oath to resist until death, and regarded the
probable destruction of themselves and their families with stoical
indifference. The priests had so aroused their religious exultation, and
were able to sustain it at such a pitch, that they never wavered before
the daily horrors they endured.
The French at first tried to drive them from their posts by sallies made
into the town, but the inhabitants rained such a murderous fire upon
them from towers, roofs, windows, even the cellars, that they were
obliged to retire. Exasperated by this stubborn resistance they resolved
to blow up the town, inch by inch. The siege was begun in the most
terrible and destructive manner, but the people were unmoved by the
danger. “While a house was being mined, and the dull sound of the
rammers warned them that death was at hand, not one left the house which
he had sworn to defend, and we could hear them singing litanies. Then,
at the moment the walls flew into the air and fell back with a crash,
crushing the greater part of them, those who had escaped would collect
about the ruins, and sheltering themselves behind the slightest cover,
would recommence their sharpshooting.”
Marshal Lannes commanded before Saragossa. Touched by the devotion and
the heroism of the defenders, he proposed an honorable capitulation. The
besieged scorned the proposition, and the awful process of undermining
went on until the town was practically blown to pieces.
[Illustration:
BERNADOTTE. ABOUT 1798.
Engraved by Fiesinger, after Guérin.]
For such resistance there was no end but extermination. For the first
time in his career Napoleon had met sublime popular patriotism, a
passion before which diplomacy, flattery, love of gain, force, lose
their power.
It was for but a short time that the emperor could give his personal
attention to the Spanish war. Certain wheels in his great machine were
not revolving smoothly. In his own capital, Paris, there was friction
among certain influential persons. The peace of the Continent, necessary
to the Peninsular war, and which Alexander had guaranteed, was
threatened. Under these circumstances it was impossible to remain in
Spain.
[Illustration:
THE EYE OF THE MASTER.
After Raffet.]