CHAPTER VIII.

GLORY AND SUCCESS (1804-1805).

On the eve of the declaration of the Senate in favor of the empire,

Cambacérès had said to Lebrun, "All is over! the monarchy is re-

established! But I have a presentiment that what they are now constructing

will not be durable. We made war upon Europe to give it republics, which

should be daughters of the French Republic; now we shall make it to give

Europe monarchs, sons or brothers of ours; and France, exhausted, will

finally succumb to such fatal attempts."

A year before that, when the consulship for life was proclaimed, the wise

and virtuous Tronchet, when a sorrowful witness of the revolutionary

crimes against which he had defended King Louis XVI., had shown the same

inquietude and fatal presentiment. "This young man begins like Caesar," he

said of General Bonaparte; "I am afraid he may end as he did."

The daggers of the Roman conspirators had arrested Caesar in his course.

Napoleon had found neither a Brutus nor a Cassius: he reigned without

contest, by a triumphal acclamation of 3,572,329 suffrages against 2569

"Noes." The country was eager to salute its new master, with a curiosity

mixed with confidence in the unexpected resources of his genius. The

courtiers alone around him who had found no place in the prodigal

distribution of honors, muttered their murmurs. They served him

nevertheless; and Talleyrand remained minister of foreign affairs, even

when all the important posts of the empire had escaped his desires.

With more calmness and pride than the courtiers, Moreau and the royalist

conspirators waited in prison for their verdict. Napoleon was as eager as

they were, being in haste to rid himself of an embarrassment which could

become a danger. In proportion as the trial proceeded, Moreau's case was

more and more kept distinct from that of the other prisoners. The mode of

defence adopted by the royalists tended entirely to prove his innocence.

"We entered France," they said, "deceived by false reports, and with the

hope of securing our restoration: General Moreau refused us his

assistance, and our project failed." The general did not appear disturbed

by the irregular jurisdiction to which his case was to be referred.

"Strive," he wrote to his wife, "to make sure that those who are to judge

me are just men, incapable of betraying their conscience. If I am judged

by persons of honor, I cannot complain, although they have apparently

suppressed the jury."

The public interest was lively, and openly shown, in spite of the evident

annoyance of the emperor. The friends of the royalist prisoners were

numerous and ardent; and, whether from admiration or indifference, the

public believed General Moreau innocent of all conspiracy, and made excuse

for the dissatisfaction or ambition which he might have manifested. The

sharers of his renown--Dessoles, Gouvion St. Cyr, Macdonald, Lecourbe--

were faithfully present at every sitting. I borrow from the interesting

recollections of Madame Récamier the picture of the spectacle then seen in

the hall of the Palace of Justice, every approach to which was choked by

the crowd. "The prisoners, of whom there were forty-seven, were for the

most part unknown to each other, and filled the raised seats facing those

where the judges sat. Each prisoner was seated between two gendarmes;

those near Moreau were full of respect. When I raised my veil the general

recognized me, and rose to salute me. I returned his salute with emotion

and respect. I was deeply touched at seeing them treat as a criminal that

great general whose reputation was then so glorious and unstained. It was

no longer a question of republic and republicans. Excepting Moreau, who I

am certain was an entire stranger to the conspiracy, it was the royalist

loyalty that alone was on its defence against the new power. This cause of

the ancient monarchy had as its head a man of the people, Georges

Cadoudal.

"That fearless Georges! We looked at him with the thought that that head,

so freely and energetically devoted, must fall on the scaffold; or that he

alone, probably, would not escape death, as he did nothing for that

purpose. Disdaining to defend himself, he only defended his friends; and

when they tried to persuade him to ask for pardon, as the other prisoners

had done, he replied, 'Do you promise me a fairer opportunity of dying?'

"In the ranks of the accused, Polignac and Rivière were still noticeable,

interesting from their youth and devotion. Pichegru, whose name will

remain historically united with Moreau's, was missing at his side--or

rather, one believed his shade was visible there, because it was known

that he also was not in the prison.

"Another recollection, the death of the Duc d'Enghien, increased the

sorrow and terror of many minds, even among the most devoted partisans of

Bonaparte."

Taken as a whole, and in spite of the embarrassment caused by the

persistence of two or three of the accusers, the public judicial

examination was favorable to General Moreau. On being accused of having

agreed to a reconciliation with the traitor Pichegru, he replied, "Since

the beginning of the Revolution there have been many traitors. There were

some who were traitors in 1789, without being so in 1793; there were

others who were so in '93 but were not in '95, others who were so in '95

but have not been so since. Many were republicans who are not so now.

General Pichegru may have had an understanding with Condé in the year IV.;

I believe that he had; but he was included in the proscription of

Fructidor, and must be considered as one of those who were then

proscribed. When I saw other Fructidorians at the head of the authorities

of state--when Condé's army filled the Parisian drawing-rooms and those of

the First Consul, I might very well take a share in restoring to France

the conqueror of Holland. I am credited with the absurd idea of making use

of royalists in the hope of regaining power if they were successful. I

have made war for ten years, and during those ten years I am not aware of

having done absurd things." When they laid emphasis on his interview with

Pichegru and Georges, he said, "A quarter of an hour is but little for the

discussion of a plan of government. It is said that Pichegru was

dissatisfied; probably we were not of the same mind." On the president

regretting that he had not denounced Pichegru and the royalists, saying

that he owed it to a government that loaded him with benefits, Moreau

exclaimed, "The conqueror of Hohenlinden is not a denouncer, M. le

President. Do not put my services and my fortune in the same balance, for

there is no possible comparison between the things. I should have fifty

millions to-day, had I made the same use of victory which many others have

done!"

Moreau wished to plead himself the cause of his life and renown. "It is

only by my counsel," he said, "that I wish to address justice"--here the

illustrious general looked round upon the attentive multitude--"but I feel

that both on your account and mine I ought to speak myself. Unfortunate

circumstances, produced by chance or caused by hatred, may for an instant

obscure the life of the most honorable man; and a clever criminal may keep

off suspicion and the proof of his crimes. The whole life of a prisoner is

always the most certain testimony against him and for him. I therefore set

my whole life to witness against my accusers and prosecutors; it has been

public enough to be known: I shall only recall a few of its epochs: and

the witnesses whom I shall summon will be the French people, and the

people whom France has conquered. I was devoted to the study of law at the

beginning of that revolution which was to establish the liberty of the

French people; and the object of my life being thus changed, I devoted it

to arms. I became a warrior because I was a citizen: I bore this character

beneath our standards, and have always preserved it. I was promoted

quickly, but always from step to step without passing any; always by

serving my country, never by flattering the committees. On being appointed

commander, when victory obliged us to march through the countries of our

enemies, I was as anxious that our character should be respected as that

our arms should be dreaded. War, under my orders, was a calamity only on

the battlefield. I have the presumption to think that the country has not

forgotten my services then, nor the ready devotion which I showed when

fighting as a subordinate; nor how I was appointed to the command-in-chief

by the reverses of our arms, and, in one sense, named general by our

misfortunes. It is still remembered how I twice recomposed the army from

the fragments of those which had been scattered, and how, after having

twice restored it to a condition of being able to cope with the Russians

and Austrians, I twice laid down the command to take another of greater

responsibility. I was not during that period of my life more republican

than during the others, though I seemed so. It is well known that there

was a proposal to put me at the head of a movement similar to that of the

18th Brumaire. I refused, believing that I was made to command armies, and

having no desire to command a Republic. I did more; on the 18th Brumaire I

was in Paris. That revolution, instigated by others, could not disturb my

peace of mind; but directed by a man surrounded by great renown, I might

have hoped for happy results from it. I took part in it to assist it,

whilst some other parties urged me to lead them in opposing it. I received

in Paris General Bonaparte's orders, and, in seeing them executed, I

assisted in raising him to that high degree of power which circumstances

rendered necessary. When, shortly afterwards, he offered me the command of

the army of the Rhine, I accepted it from him with as much devotion as

from the hands of the Republic itself. Never had my successes been more

rapid, more numerous, or more decisive, than during that period; and their

renown was reflected upon the government which accuses me. What a moment

for conspiring, if such a scheme had ever entered my mind! Would an

ambitious man, or a conspirator, have let slip the opportunity when at the

head of an army of 100,000 men so often victorious? I only thought of

disbanding the army before returning to the repose of civil life.

"During that rest, which has not been without glory, I enjoyed my honors

(such honors as no human power can deprive me of), the recollections of

what I had done, the testimony of my conscience, the esteem of my country

and of foreigners, and, to be candid, the flattering and pleasant

presentiment of the esteem of posterity. My mind and disposition were so

well known, and I kept myself so far aloof from any ambitious project,

that from the victory of Hohenlinden till my arrest my enemies were never

able to accuse me of any crime except freedom in speaking. Do conspirators

openly find fault with that which they do not approve? So much candor is

scarcely reconcilable with political secrets and plots. If I had wished to

adopt and follow the plans of any conspirators, I should have concealed my

sentiments, and solicited every appointment which might have restored me

to power. As a guide on such a route, in default of the political talent

which I have never had, there were examples known to all the world and

rendered imposing by success. I might have known that Monk retained

command of his armies when he wished to conspire, and that Cassius and

Brutus came nearer Caesar's heart in order to pierce it."

When the pleading was finished, the emperor and the public anxiously

waited for the sentence. The fact of the royalist plot being proved, the

condemnation of the prisoners was certain, and the inquietude and hopes of

all were concentrated on Moreau. "Towards the close of the trial," said

Madame Récamier, "all business was stopped, the entire population were out

of doors, they talked of nothing but Moreau." The emperor had informed the

judges that he would not demand that the general be condemned to death

unless in the interest of justice, and as a salutary example, his fixed

intention being to grant him pardon. One of the members of the tribunal,

Clavier, a man of great virtue and learning, said, on hearing General

Murat's proposition, "And who will pardon us ourselves, if we pass

judgment and condemnation against our consciences?" At the first

deliberation of the tribunal, seven judges out of twelve voted for

acquittal pure and simple: being afraid of Napoleon's anger, they

sentenced Moreau to two years' imprisonment. "Why, that's a punishment for

a pickpocket!" exclaimed the emperor in a passion. By wise counsel he was

induced to show a prudent clemency. Moreau, nearly ruined by the expense

of the trial, and as annoyed by the sentence as Napoleon was, refused to

ask any favor. "If it was certain that I took part in the conspiracy," he

exclaimed, "I ought to have been condemned to death as a leader. I undergo

the extremity of horror and disgrace. Nobody will believe that I played

the part of a corporal."

His young and handsome wife, being near confinement, asked for and

obtained permission to sail to America with her husband, and when delayed

at Cadiz by child-birth, was urged to set out on the voyage through

Fouché's influence in the Spanish court. "Four years ago about this time,"

wrote the general, "I gained the battle of Hohenlinden. That event, so

glorious for my country, procured for my fellow-countrymen a repose which

they had long wanted. I alone have been unable to obtain it. Will they

refuse it me at the extremity of Europe, 500 leagues from my native land?"

Moreau carried with him into exile the cruel recollection of the name

"brigand" (ruffian), which had been formerly abusively replied to him, and

that keen desire for vengeance which was one day to prove so fatal to his

renown.

Of the royalist prisoners, twenty were condemned to death. In spite of

Murat's eager pleading, eleven perished on the scaffold with Georges

Cadoudal, equal to him in the imperturbability of their political and

religious faith. Rivière and Polignac, General Lajolais, and four others

owed their lives to the supplications of their families, judiciously

assisted by the kindness of the Empress Josephine. They were all sent to

prison.

Napoleon felt with more justice than Moreau himself that the conscience of

the judges had been opposed to his supreme will. In spite of the silence

which he imposed upon the organs of the press, more and more roughly

treated by him, public opinion remained equally stirred up against the

murder of the Duc d'Enghien. A thought which had arisen in his mind from

the day of his elevation to the empire, gained fresh forces from the

feeling of silent disapprobation of all honorable men. He wished to place

a religious stamp upon his greatness, and instructed Cardinal Caprara to

ask the Pope to come to Paris to consecrate him. "It is most unlikely,"

said he, "that any power will make objection to it either in right or in

fact. Therefore broach the subject, and when you have transmitted the

reply, I shall make the suitable and necessary arrangements with the

Pope."

As in the case of the Concordat, the emperor's confidential advisers were

not favorable to the idea of consecration. The discussion in the Council

of State was lively, characterized by all the philosophical and

revolutionary suspicion as to the pretensions of a power being invited to

bestow the crown and thus probably believing it had the power to withdraw

it. Napoleon had formed a better judgment of the profound and permanent

effect of the condescension which he asked from the Pope. "Gentlemen,"

said he to his council, "you are deliberating in Paris in the Tuileries;

suppose that you were deliberating in London in the British cabinet, that

in a word, you were ministers of the King of England, and that you were

told that at this moment the Pope was crossing the Alps to consecrate the

Emperor of the French, would you consider that as a triumph for England or

for France?"

The council had not insisted, and the court of Rome felt their force of

resistance becoming weaker every day. The death of the Duc d'Enghien had

caused the Pope much sorrow:--"My tears now," said Pius VII., "at the

death of the one and the attempt upon the other." The French bishops who

had not resigned had renewed their protestations against the Concordat.

The Sacred College, when consulted as to the journey of the holy father,

were divided in their opinion. Five cardinals declared that by so doing

the Pope would ratify all the usurpations of which the new Emperor of the

French had rendered himself culpable; fifteen showed less severity, but

all insisted upon surrounding the solicited favor with numerous

conditions. "The actual advantage to religion expressly professed in the

invitation which his Holiness is about to accept, but actually injured in

the result, can alone excuse in the eyes of Catholics the temporary

abandonment of the holy seat," wrote Cardinal Consalvi to Cardinal

Caprara: "the dignity and honor of the head of religion both require it."

He also wrote, "The form of oath taken by the emperor raises great

difficulties. We cannot admit the oath _to respect and caused to be

respected the laws of the Concordat_, which is the same thing as saying

that one must respect the organic articles and cause them to be respected.

_To respect the liberty of worship_ supposes an engagement not to tolerate

and allow, but to sustain and protect, and extends not only to persons,

but to the thing, that is to say to all forms of worship. But a Catholic

cannot defend the error of false forms of worship."

Cardinal Caprara, as papal legate in Paris, and Cardinal Fesch, as French

ambassador in Rome, explained away or avoided the difficulties. The

legate, always timid and easily persuaded, gave grounds for hopes which he

was not always able to realize; the cardinal, haughty and violent, divided

between devotion to his all-powerful nephew and his own restoration to

ecclesiastical practices and sentiments, was at Rome lavish of presents

and threats. He at the same time advised the court of Rome to claim the

Legations, whatever were the scruples of the Pope to confound temporal

questions with spiritual concessions. Skilful in making use of the real

Intentions or wishes which he was aware of, without compromising his

government by any formal engagement, Cardinal Fesch at last triumphed over

the repugnances of the Pope by avoiding most of the conditions of the Holy

College, and on the 30th September, 1804, he presented to Pius VII.

General Caffarelli, the emperor's deputy at Rome, instead of the two

bishops formerly insisted upon. Still less explicit than his ambassador,

Napoleon gave no hopes to the holy father of the important concessions

with which the latter was fondly flattering himself.

"Very Holy Father," said the emperor, "the happy result evinced in the

morality and character of my people by the re-establishment of the

Christian religion, leads me to pray your Holiness to give me a new proof

of the interest which your Holiness takes in my destiny and that of this

great nation, in one of the most important periods shown in the annals of

the world. I beg your Holiness to come and give a religious character of

the highest degree to the ceremony of the consecration and coronation of

the first Emperor of the French. That ceremony will acquire a new lustre

if done by your Holiness. It will bring upon us and our peoples the

blessing of God, whose decrees govern according to His will the lot of

empires and of families.

"Your Holiness knows the friendly feeling which I have long had towards

you, and must therefore infer the pleasure which I shall have in giving

you fresh proofs.

"Thereupon we pray God, most holy father, that He may keep you for many

years in the rule and government of our mother the holy Church.

"Your devoted son,

"Napoleon."

The Pope had determined to set out, being convinced that resistance was

impossible, and harassed by a serious inquietude the importance of which

was afterwards confirmed, and by the vague fears of a sickly old man. He

was offended by the contemptuous terms which the foreign ambassadors

applied to the condescension of him whom they called the "French emperor's

chaplain." His Italian subtilty was disturbed, and his natural kindness

chafed by the dryness of the emperor's message. "This is poison which you

have brought to me," said he to General Caffarelli, after reading

Napoleon's letter. He set out nevertheless, obstinately refusing to take

with him Cardinal Consalvi, in whose hands he had placed his abdication.

"If they keep me here," said he one day in Paris, "they will find that

they only have in their power a wretched monk called Barnabus

Chiaramonti."

The Pope's departure had been much hastened by the repeated urgency of the

emperor, and his journey was so also. The time for the ceremony was fixed

without consulting him. As Cardinal Consalvi said in his Memoirs, "they

made the holy father gallop from Rome to Paris like an almoner summoned by

his master to say mass."

On the 25th November, 1804, about mid-day, the emperor was hunting in the

forest of Fontainebleau, and went towards Croix St. Herem at the moment

when the Pope's carriage just reached that spot. The carriage stopped, and

"the holy father stepped out in his white dress; as the road was muddy he

could not soil his silk stockings by stepping on the ground." He got out,

however, whilst the emperor, leaping from his horse, advanced to him and

embraced him. The meeting had been skilfully arranged in order that the

new master of France might be spared the annoyance of a deference which he

considered excessive. Both doors of the emperor's carriage were opened at

once, and Napoleon entering by the right, Pius VII. naturally took the

left. The empress and imperial family were waiting for the Pope at the

great portico of the palace. The emperor seemed triumphant. The Pope was

full of emotion, affected by the kind reception he had met with by the

people during his journey. "I have passed through a population all on

their knees," said he.

The Emperor Napoleon was not on his knees, and Pius VII. was even sensible

of it. Several questions had remained undecided before the holy father's

departure for France: Napoleon had resolutely disposed of them, and

yielded only on one point. Still bandied about between his own

uncertainty, the love which he still felt for the Empress Josephine, the

intrigues of her family, who were opposed to him, and the passionate

longing to have a son to inherit his crown, he had been on the point of

demanding a divorce a few days previously, but on the empress making the

Pope her confidant their union was confirmed, and on the eve of the

coronation, with the greatest secrecy, the religious marriage of the

emperor with Josephine was celebrated by Cardinal Fesch. Pius VII.

declared that it was impossible for him to proceed with the ceremony of

the double consecration so long as that act of reparation remained

unaccomplished.

Those who had charge of the arrangements for the great spectacle, the Abbé

Bernier, lately appointed Bishop of Orleans, and the Arch-chancellor

Cambacérès, had frequently discussed the ceremonial of the coronation

properly so-called. In France the peers, in Italy the bishops, formerly

held the crown above the head of the sovereign, who then received it from

the hands of the pontiff. "All the French emperors, all those of Germany

who have been consecrated by the popes were at the same crowned by them.

The holy father, in order to decide as to the journey, must receive from

Paris the assurance that in this case there will be no innovation contrary

to the honor and dignity of the sovereign pontiff." At Rome the replies

bad been vague; at Paris the emperor had calmed the zeal and inquietude of

his servants. "I shall arrange that myself," said he. On the 2nd December,

1804, the ceremony of consecration took place according to the solemn

ceremonial, and the emperor, after being anointed with the holy oil, held

out his hand towards the crown which the Pope had just taken from the

altar. Pius VII., completely taken by surprise, made no resistance, and

Napoleon himself placing on his head the emblem of sovereign power, then

crowned with his own hands the empress, who was in tears kneeling before

him. Mounting his throne whilst his brothers held up his robe, being

compelled to that act of humility by his imperious will, and their sisters

bore the train of the empress, the Pope pronounced the solemn formula,

"Vivat in aeternum Augustus!" And under the very eyes of the holy pontiff,

the Emperor Napoleon took the oath in the form which had been so much

opposed in Rome. His victory was complete: he triumphed over the old

revolutionary prejudices, whilst at the same time confirming in Notre

Dame, in spite of the scruples of the court of Rome, the principles of

liberty acquired by the French Revolution.

When the Pope, sad and discouraged, at last set out for Rome, 4th April,

1805, he had obtained none of the favors which he thought he had a right

to expect. The emperor was inflexible on the question of the "organic

articles," making no concession as to their application. The statement

presented by the Pope and drawn up by Cardinal Antonelli, the most

enthusiastic of his councillors, was on Napoleon's orders replied to by

Portalis, who was skilful in concealing the refusal under the grave

phraseology of legal and Christian language. Urged to extremity, Pius VII.

applied to the emperor himself to ask the restoration of the Legations.

Talleyrand wrote in reply, "France has very dearly bought the power which

she enjoys. It is not in the emperor's power to take anything from an

empire which is the fruit of ten years' war and bloodshed, continued with

an admirable courage and accompanied with the most unhappy agitation and

an unexampled constancy. It is still less in his power to diminish the

territory of a foreign state which, by entrusting him with the care of

governing, had laid upon him the duty of protecting it." A few sentences

added by the emperor to the diplomatic document left room for vague hopes

of certain consolations. The illusions of Pius VII. began to disappear;

without compensation or recompense, he had worked to consolidate for a

short time the throne of the conqueror; the conquests which he had won

were not of this world; the complete submission of the constitutional

bishops, and the genuine respect with which the French people constantly

surrounded him were due to the personal veneration which he inspired. When

at last he crossed the mountains the Emperor Napoleon had reached Italy

before him, as if to indicate more emphatically the condescension which

the sovereign pontiff had shown to him. It was at Turin that he finally

took leave of Pius VII., letting him return to Rome while he took in the

cathedral of Milan the iron crown of the Lombard kings, and placed it on

his head before an immense crowd of on-lookers, using the traditional

words of the ancient Lombard monarchy, "God has given it me, who dare

touch it?"

The Cisalpine Republic no longer existed, and the Emperor of the French,

King of Italy, boasted of the moderation he had evinced in keeping the two

crowns apart. At one time he intended raising his brother Joseph to the

new throne, but the latter was afraid of compromising his right to succeed

to the imperial crown. Louis Bonaparte refused to govern in the name of

the child which he had by Hortense de Beauharnais, daughter of the Empress

Josephine by her first marriage, whom he had married with regret.

Compelled to unite, on his own head, the two crowns of France and Italy,

Napoleon entrusted the care of the government to his son-in-law, Eugène de

Beauharnais. His protestations of respect for the independence of the

allied peoples did not prevent his annexing to the kingdom of Italy the

territory of Genoa, whilst forming the domains of Lucca and Piombino into

a principality in favor of his eldest sister, Elisa Baciocchi. The storm

was already threatening the feeble government of Naples: the queen,

obsequious in her alarm, had sent to Milan an ambassador to congratulate

the emperor and king. "Tell your queen," exclaimed Napoleon, "that her

intrigues are known to me, and that her children will curse her memory,

for I shall not leave in her kingdom enough of land to build her tomb

upon."

So much brilliance and severity in the display of his sovereign power

proved of service to the irreconcilable enemies who were stirring up

Europe against the already uncontrollable ambition of the new emperor.

Pitt had already returned to power (19th May, 1804), though with less

support in Parliament, and very infirm in health. He felt himself

sustained by the breath of public opinion, and by the firm confidence of

the mass of the nation. In this great duel, of which he was not to see the

end, it was the consolation, as well as the honor of the illustrious

minister, that he had constantly defended the principles of true liberty,

as well as European independence, against the encroachments and contagion

of the revolutionary powers, and those of anarchy or absolutism.

It was in the name of the same principles that the young Emperor of Russia

then proposed to Europe a mediation which was soon to end in a coalition.

Generously chimerical in his inexperience, Alexander dreamt of a general

rearrangement of Europe, which was to secure forever the peace of every

nation. Poland itself was to be reconstituted, Italy and Germany to

recover their independence, and a new code of the rights of nations on sea

and land was to regulate the relations of civilized states. Nowosiltzoff

was entrusted to discuss this scheme with Pitt.

It was by the prudence and skilful tact of the English minister that the

scaffolding of ambitious hopes was overthrown, and the Emperor Alexander

brought to the practical consideration of a durable alliance. England and

Russia engaged to carry out the formation of a great European league and

the legitimate re-establishment of the states. Hanover and Northern

Germany were to be evacuated, the independence of Holland and Switzerland

guaranteed, the King of Piedmont reestablished, the kingdom of Naples

consolidated, Italy delivered. In order to bring Prussia into that

alliance, Pitt proposed to grant him the Rhenish provinces. He refused

formally to evacuate Malta, and pleaded the English prejudices against the

Russian overtures with reference to the Turkish territory. The Emperor

Alexander still hoped to obtain important concessions from Napoleon.

Trusting in his sincere disinterestedness, the young monarch had got

Prussia to ask passports for his envoy; Napoleon was in Italy, and said he

could not receive Nowosiltzoff before July. "I expect nothing from this

mediation," he wrote to the King of Prussia: "Alexander is too fickle and

feeble; Russia is too far, too foreign to colonial and maritime interests;

the Woronzovs too much influenced by English money, for one to have

reasonable hopes of an advantageous general peace. Whenever propositions

are passed at St. Petersburg to reach Paris, there is no wish to come to

an understanding: in London they wish to gain time, dazzle the eyes of all

the peoples, and perhaps form a coalition which should bring disgrace upon

England. My brother, I wish for peace, but I do not wish to agree to my

people being disinherited of the commerce of the world. I have no

ambition: I have twice evacuated the third part of Europe without being

compelled to do so. I owe Russia no more as to Italian affairs than she

owes me with reference to Turkish and Persian affairs. Russia has not the

right to take that tone with anybody, and with me still less than with

anybody whatever."

The Emperor Napoleon had already given his reply to Europe. The annexation

of the territory of Genoa, and the threat to the Neapolitan government

sufficiently proved his intentions. The treaty provisionally signed on the

11th April between England and the Emperor Alexander was confirmed; and on

the 9th August, Austria, which already had a secret engagement with

Russia, adhered to the Anglo-Russian alliance. Sweden joining soon after,

the third coalition was now complete. Prussia remained as a common object

for the negotiations and advances of all. Napoleon gave her hopes of

obtaining Hanover.

He had just set out for Boulogne, always the centre of his adventurous

plans. Already in the previous year he believed that he had reached the

accomplishment of the project so carefully matured and prepared with that

mixture of foresight and boldness which so often secured the unexpected

success of his attempts. His enormous preparations were at last completed,

the Dutch squadron alone being waited for; and the emperor deceived the

impatience of his troops and his own agitation by reviews and military

ceremonies. On the 2nd July, he wrote to Admiral Latouche-Tréville, whom

he had put in command of his Toulon squadron: "By the same messenger let

me know on what day you will weigh anchor. Let me know also what the enemy

is doing, and where Nelson is located. Reflect upon the great enterprise

which you are about to execute, and before I sign your definite orders let

me understand the manner in which you think they would be most

advantageously carried into effect. I have appointed you Grand Officer of

the Empire, Inspector of the Coasts of the Mediterranean; but I desire

much that the operation you are about to undertake may enable me to

elevate you to such a degree of consideration and honor, that you may have

nothing more to desire. The squadron of Rochefort (commanded by Admiral

Villeneuve), composed of five vessels, of which one is a three-decker, and

of four frigates, is ready to weigh anchor; it has before it only five of

the enemy's ships. The squadron of Brest (commanded by Admiral Ganteaume)

is of twenty-one ships; these ships have just weighed anchor in order to

harass the enemy and compel him to keep there a large number of vessels.

The enemy have also six ships before the Texel, and there blockade the

Dutch squadron, consisting of eight vessels, four frigates, and a convoy

of thirty ships in which the corps of General Marmont is embarked. Between

Étaples, Boulogne, Wimereux and Ambleteuse (two new ports which I have

constructed) we have 1800 gun-boats of various kinds, and 120,000 men, and

10,000 horses; only let us be masters of the strait for six hours, and we

shall be the masters of the world.

"The enemy have before Boulogne, before Ostend, and at the Downs, two

ships of seventy-four guns, two of sixty-four guns, and two or three of

fifty guns. Until now Admiral Cornwallis has had only fifteen vessels, but

all the reserves from Plymouth and Portsmouth have come to reinforce him

before Brest.

"The enemy keep also at Cork, in Ireland, four or five ships of war; I do

not speak of frigates or small vessels, of which they have a large number.

If you deceive Nelson, he will go to Sicily or to Egypt or to Ferrol. It

would then appear to me best to make a considerable roundabout, and arrive

before Rochefort; thus making your squadron one of sixteen ships and

eleven frigates; and then, without dropping anchor or losing a single

instant, arrive before Boulogne. Our squadron at Brest, twenty-three

vessels strong, will have on board an army, and will be constantly under

sail set, so that Cornwallis will be obliged to press close to the shore

of Brittany in order to try and prevent the escape of our fleet. For the

rest, in order to fix my ideas upon this operation, which has its risks,

but of which the success offers results so enormous, I wait for the scheme

you have mentioned to me, and which you will send me by return of the

courier. You must embark as many provisions as possible, so that under any

circumstances you may have nothing to hinder you."

It is the weakness as well as the honor of human enterprises to depend

upon the life and force of a man. Before Admiral Latouche-Tréville had

been able to profit by the occurrence of the mistral to get out of Toulon

and deceive Nelson, he himself succumbed to the illness that had preyed

upon him since the expedition of San Domingo (20th August, 1804), and the

projected expedition against the coast of England was indefinitely

postponed. "The flotilla has been looked upon as temporary," wrote the

Emperor to Decrès, the Minister of Marine; "it will be necessary

henceforth to look upon it as a fixed establishment, and from this moment

to give the greatest attention to all that is unchangeable, managing it by

other regulations than the squadron."

It was at the same time the plan of the emperor to try to turn away the

thoughts of the English from his schemes of invasion; in the midst of his

arrangements for the coronation, and of the diplomatic negotiations, and

whilst writing a private letter to the King of England, pompously

proposing peace, he had formed other designs and prepared new plans in

order at last to carry out his great enterprise.

It was no longer on the coasts of France or of Spain, but far away in the

regions of the Antilles that the French squadrons of Toulon, Brest, and

Rochefort were to effect their junction and concentrate their forces. The

hope of Napoleon was to see the English, deceived by their disappearance,

dash off in pursuit of them and rush to the succor of the Indies. The

emperor had for a moment thought of directing the blows of his united navy

against this distant and new formed empire. Returning to the project of

the descent on England, he had made Admiral Villeneuve set out directly

after the 30th of March. He was to join at Cadiz the Spanish Admiral

Gravina and at Martinique, Admiral Missiessy, who had left Rochefort on

the 11th of January. Admiral Ganteaume, taking advantage of the first

moment when the English should be obliged by contrary winds to withdraw

from Brest, was in his turn to set sail for Martinique. The fleet, which

would then be fifty or sixty strong, assured of triumphing over all the

English forces if they should dare to face it, would return into the

channel to cover the departure of the flotilla. "The English do not know

what calamity awaits them," wrote Napoleon on the 4th of August to the

Admiral Decrès. "If we are masters of the passage for twelve hours,

England's day is done."

Racine has said by the mouth of Mithridates,--

"Mais, pour être approuvés,

De semblables projets veulent être achevés."

Villeneuve quoted it to the Minister of Marine when the plans formed by

the emperor were confided to him. This mournful forecast haunted, no

doubt, more than once the thoughts of the admiral when he found himself at

sea, discontented and uneasy. "We have bad masts, bad sails, bad rigging,

bad officers, and bad sailors," said he. Arrived, on the 14th of May, at

Martinique, he found Missiessy no longer there, but his orders obliged him

to await the arrival of Ganteaume. A continuous calm prevented the latter

from leaving Brest, where he was blockaded by the English. At the two ends

of the world, discouragement weighed upon the admirals consigned to

inaction by unforeseen obstacles met with in the execution of a plan which

took no account of accidents of wind or sea. In vain wrote Napoleon to

Ganteaume, "You hold in your hands the destinies of the world." The

unfortunate commander of the Brest squadron communicated his despair to

the Minister of Marine: "I believe, my friend, that you share all my

experience. Every day that passes is a day of torment for me; and I

tremble lest at the end I should be obliged to commit some gross folly.

The length of the days and the beauty of the season cause me to despair of

the expedition." In the middle of May, Admiral Magon was despatched to

Martinique to give Villeneuve orders to return with his squadron, to raise

the blockade of Ferrol, to touch at Rochefort, and join Admiral Missiessy,

and then to present themselves before Brest in order to force the blockade

with the aid of Ganteaume. The united fleets were then to set sail towards

the channel.

Upon land, and until the day when success and presumption disturbed the

clearness of his judgment, and the penetrating light of his genius,

Napoleon was accustomed to judge soberly of the obstacles he calculated on

overcoming, and of his power to do so. Without maritime experience, and

struggling against the recognized superiority of the English navy, he

constantly committed the error of counting on the mistakes of the enemy

and of looking on the chiefs of his squadrons as equal in talent to

Nelson. No sooner had the latter learnt the direction of Villeneuve than

he dashed off in pursuit, caring little as to the number of vessels he

might have to confront. Napoleon had miscalculated the length of the

voyage. "Nelson will have been first to Surinam, thence to Trinidad, and

from that to Barbadoes," wrote he on the 28th of June to Admiral Decrès;

"he will lose two days at Cape Verd; he will lose much time in collecting

his ships, on account of the vessels and frigates to which he will give

chase on his way. When he learns that Villeneuve is not in the Windward

Islands he will go to Jamaica, and during the days lost in provisioning

and waiting, great blows will be struck. This is my calculation. Nelson is

in America and Collingwood in the East Indies. Nelson will not venture

before Martinique; he will stay at Barbadoes in order to plan a junction

with Cochrane."

Nelson had already quitted Barbadoes and was pursuing his adversary from

anchorage to anchorage. Troubled by this formidable proximity, and pressed

by the formal orders which enjoined him to transfer his efforts to the

seas of Europe, Villeneuve crowded all sail to reach Ferrol. Nelson soon

followed him, directing his course towards the Mediterranean, but careful

to warn the Admirality, who sent Admiral Calder with fifteen vessels to

the neighborhood of Cape Finisterre. It was in these waters that

Villeneuve encountered Nelson on July 22nd, 1805. The weather was foggy,

and the sea rough; the engagement ended without any important result, two

Spanish vessels being captured by the English. Villeneuve set sail

speedily towards Ferrol, without entering the Channel, the order having

arrived to take his course to Brest immediately; but he lingered at

Corunna, persuaded that Nelson had joined Admiral Calder, and that both

would combine with Lord Cornwallis for his destruction. In again taking to

sea, he let it be thought that he was setting out for Brest; General

Lauriston, aide-de-camp to the emperor, and who had accompanied Villeneuve

in his expedition, wrote so immediately to the emperor. But the

discouragement of Villeneuve, more profound than ever, showed itself in a

letter to his friend, Admiral Decrès. "They make me the arbiter of the

highest interests," wrote he; "my despair doubles in proportion as more

confidence is placed in me, because I cannot pretend to any success,

whatever plan I adopt. It is perfectly plain to me that the fleets of

France and Spain cannot be effective in large squadrons. Divisions of

three or four, or five at the most, are all that we are capable of

conducting. Let Ganteaume get out, and he will judge the point. Public

opinion will be settled. I am about to set out, but I know not what I

shall do. Eight vessels are in view of the coast at a few leagues'

distance. They will follow us, but I shall not be able to join them, and

they will go to unite with the other squadrons before Brest or Cadiz,

according as I make my way to one or other of those ports. I am far from

being in a position, in leaving this place with twenty-nine vessels, to be

able to fight against a similar number; I do not fear to tell you that I

should be hard put to it to encounter twenty."

For three weeks past the emperor had been at Boulogne, consumed with

impatience, exercising the troops every day, repeating the manoeuvres of

embarkation, his attention fixed upon the sea, and ready to deliver his

flotilla and his army to the mercy of the waves as soon as his squadrons

should at last appear in the Channel. The days sped by; in vain ships

after ships were hurried off to Admiral Villeneuve, bearing the most

urgent orders. "If you run up here in three days, if only for twenty-four

hours, your mission would be accomplished. The English are not so numerous

as you think; they are everywhere detained by the wind. Never will a

squadron have run a few risks with so great an end, and never will our

soldiers have had the chance on land or sea to shed their blood for a

grander or nobler result. For the great object of aiding a descent upon

that power which for six centuries has oppressed France, we ought all to

die without regret."

The Minister of Marine, clever and experienced in naval affairs, endowed

with a cold and prudent spirit, had never approved the projects of

Napoleon, and had constantly sought to turn him from them. The conviction

which was firmly rooted in the mind of Decrès as to the impossibility of

success, in connection with the sorrowful discouragement which impelled

Villeneuve towards Cadiz instead of towards Brest, increased the

uneasiness as well as the anger of the emperor. Located in barracks by the

seashore, whilst Napoleon resided at the Château du Pont de Briques,

Decrès wrote to his terrible master: "I throw myself at the feet of your

Majesty, to beseech of you not to associate the Spanish vessels with the

operations of the squadrons. Far from having gained anything in this

respect, your Majesty hears that this association would add to the vessels

of Cadiz and Carthagena. In this state of things, in which your Majesty

counts as nothing my arguments and experience, I know of no situation that

would be more painful than mine. I desire your Majesty to take seriously

into consideration that I have no other interest than that of your banner

and the honor of your arms; and if your fleet is at Cadiz, I beseech you

to consider this event as an act of destiny which reserves it for other

operations. I implore you not to cause it to come from Cadiz into the

channel, because the attempt at this moment would only be attended by

misfortunes. I reproach myself with not being able to persuade your

Majesty. I doubt if a single man could succeed in doing so. Deign to form

a council upon maritime affairs--an admiralty, of those who may suit your

Majesty, but as for me, I perceive that in place of growing stronger, I

grow weaker every day. And it cannot but be true that a Minister of

Marine, overruled by your Majesty in naval affairs, becomes useless for

the glory of your arms, if, indeed, not positively hurtful."

A single word from the emperor was the reply to the despairing letter of

his minister:--"Raise yourself to the height of the circumstances and of

the situation in which France and England now find themselves; never again

write me a letter like that which you have written to me; it is not to the

purpose. As for me, I have only need of one thing, and that is to

succeed."

In the depth of his soul; and in his secret thoughts, Napoleon saw himself

conquered by a concurrence of circumstances which he had not been willing

to foresee. His anger continued violent against the instrument who had

failed him in his imprudent designs; he asked Decrès, however, what should

be his plans in case Admiral Villeneuve were found at Cadiz, which he

still refused to believe. On August 13th he wrote to Talleyrand: "The more

I reflect upon the state of Europe, the more I see how urgent it is to

take a decisive part. I have in reality nothing to expect from the

explanations of Austria. She will answer by fine phrases and gain time, in

order that I may not be able to act this winter. Her treaty of subsidies

and her act of coalition will be signed this winter under the pretext of

an armed neutrality, and in April I shall find 100,000 Russians in Poland,

provided by England with equipment of horses, artillery, etc., 15,000 to

20,000 English at Malta, and 15,000 Russians at Corfu. I shall find myself

then in a critical situation. My decision is taken. My fleet left Ferrol

on the 29th Thermidor with thirty-four vessels. It had no enemy in sight.

If it followed its instructions, joined itself to the squadron at Brest

and entered the Channel, there is yet time, and I am master of England.

If, on the contrary, my admirals hesitate, manoeuvre badly, and do not

accomplish their purpose, I have no other resource than to wait for the

winter to cross with the flotilla. The plan is a hazardous one. It would

be more so if, pressed by circumstances, political events placed me under

the obligation of passing over in the month of April. In this state of

things I rush to the point where I am most needed; I raise my camps, and

replace my war battalions with my third battalion, always an army

sufficiently formidable for Boulogne; and on the 1st Vendémiaire I find

myself with 200,000 men in Germany, and 25,000 men in the kingdom of

Naples. I march upon Vienna, and I do not lay down my arms till I have

taken Naples and Venice, and have so augmented the States of the Elector

of Bavaria that I shall have nothing to fear from Austria. She will in

this manner be certainly pacified for the winter. I return to Paris, but

to be off again immediately."

It was always one of the sources of power of the Emperor Napoleon, and

perhaps the rarest among them, that the marvellous fecundity of his mind,

and the inexhaustible variety of the projects and conceptions which he was

constantly turning over, reciprocally sustained and complemented each

other. This characteristic of his genius has been ignored; and little

honor has been done to his foresight when he has been depicted as taken in

some degree unawares by the failure of his maritime plans, and constrained

to improvise by a supreme effort the direction of his campaign in Germany.

In the last days of August, whilst he was still uncertain as to the

movements of his squadrons, all the orders were already given for the

concentration of his armies. Bernadotte was to proceed to Göttingen with

the army of Hanover; Prince Eugène was collecting his forces on the Adige;

Gouvion St. Cyr was ready to march upon Naples; and Marmont to advance

from the Texel upon Mayence. General Duroc had set out for Berlin,

commissioned to propose an alliance. "My intention is not to leave Austria

and Russia to combine with England," said Napoleon. "My conduct in that

event would be that of the great Frederic in his first war." He wrote to

Marshal Berthier on August 25th: "The decisive moment has arrived; you

know how important a day is in this affair. Austria restrains herself no

longer; she believes, without doubt, that we are all drowned in the

ocean."

Doubt was no longer possible; time was flying, and no news arrived of the

squadron. Villeneuve had evidently retired to Cadiz. The violence and

injustice of the emperor's utterances vexed Decrès beyond expression.

"Villeneuve is a wretch, who ought to be ignominiously discharged," cried

he; "he has neither contrivance, nor courage, nor public interest; he

would sacrifice everything provided that he could save his skin." He broke

out thus before Monge, for whom he had retained a true friendship,

notwithstanding the known opinions of the savant, who had remained

republican. Troubled by the anger of Napoleon, Monge went to apprise Daru,

then principal Secretary of War, who presented himself before the emperor.

Badly informed as to the intentions of the master and the causes of his

discontent, he waited silently. The emperor, coming up to him, exclaimed,

"Do you know where Villeneuve is? He is at Cadiz." And, unfolding before

Daru all the projects he had been cherishing for six months, and

attributing their failure to the cowardice and incapacity of the men he

had employed, he launched out into invectives and recriminations. All of a

sudden, and as if he had relieved his soul by the outburst of his passion,

"Sit down there," said he to Daru, "and write!" A powerful effort, and the

natural play of a fruitful imagination, had recalled him to the

combinations which were to make his enemies tremble, and to assure him of

the triumph over Austria of which he had been baulked as regards England.

The plan of his campaign was fixed; all his thoughts turned towards a

dreadful execution of his will.

The secret had been carefully guarded, and already, on all sides, the

French armies were threatening the enemy, when, on the 1st Vendémiaire,

the emperor opened the session of the Senate. "The wishes of the eternal

enemies of the Continent are fulfilled," said he. "War has broken out in

the centre of Germany; Austria and Russia are leagued with England; and

our generation is dragged once more into all the calamities of war. A few

days ago I still hoped that peace might not be broken; menaces and

outrages found me impassive; but the Austrian army has passed the Inn,

Munich is invaded, the Elector of Bavaria is driven from his capital, all

my hopes have vanished. Senators, when, at your desire, at the call of the

entire French people, I placed upon my head the imperial crown, I received

from you, and from all citizens, the promise to maintain it pure and

without blemish. All the promises I have made to you I have kept; the

French people in their turn have made no engagement with me which they

have not even surpassed. Frenchmen, your emperor will do his duty; my

soldiers will do theirs; you will do yours."

General Mack had entered Ulm, and the emperor was still at Saint-Cloud.

The movements of our troops were quietly going forward, when Napoleon

conceived the idea of surrounding the enemy in Suabia by cutting off his

communications with Austria. A note in his own handwriting, written on the

22nd of September, indicates beforehand the positions of all the corps of

the army. On the 27th he arrived at Strasburg, prolonging his residence

there in order to deceive the Austrian general, who kept his attention

constantly fixed upon the Black Forest. On the 30th, at Strasburg, the

emperor addressed to his troops a simple and firm proclamation, animated

by that martial spirit which always inspired the army when he addressed

it. "Soldiers, the war of the third coalition has commenced. The Austrian

army has passed the Inn, broken the treaties, attacked our ally, and sent

him from his capital. You yourselves have been compelled to hasten, by

forced marches, to the defence of our frontiers. But already you have

passed the Rhine. We will not stay our progress until we have assured the

independence of the Germanic state, succored our allies, and confounded

the pride of the unjust aggressors. We will have no more peace without a

guarantee. Our generosity shall not again deceive our policy. Soldiers,

your emperor is in the midst of you; you are only the vanguard of the

great people. If it is necessary, they will rise as one man, to confound

and dissolve this new league woven by the hatred and the gold of England.

But, soldiers, we have forced marches to make, fatigues and privations of

every kind to endure. Whatever obstacles maybe opposed to us we shall be

victorious, and we will take no rest till we have planted our eagles upon

the territory of our enemies."

Napoleon had said, "I reckon on making more use of the legs of my soldiers

than even of their bayonets." The fatal circle was narrowing round General

Mack by the rapid movements of the French troops, without his appearing to

comprehend their aim, or divine the danger which threatened him. On the

8th of October he still wrote, that never had an army been posted in a

manner more fitted to assure its superiority. On the same day, advancing

upon Günzburg, Marshals Lannes and Murat encountered at Wutingen an

Austrian corps, which was tardily marching to the succor of General

Kienmayer, already dislodged from the bridges of the Danube and the Lech.

The engagement was short and brilliant; the fugitives bore at length to

Ulm the conviction of the overwhelming forces which menaced the Austrian

army. The Emperor Napoleon had arrived at Donauwerth. The first bulletin

from the Grand Army was dated October 7th, explaining all the military

operations: "This grand and vast movement has carried us in a few days to

Bavaria; has enabled us to avoid the Black Mountains, the line of parallel

rivers which fall into the Danube, and the inconvenience of a system of

operations which would have always had the defiles of the Tyrol on the

flank; and lastly, has placed us several marches in the rear of the enemy,

who has no time to lose, to avoid his entire destruction."

Napoleon was particularly watchful with respect to the Tyrol, for he had

settled in his own mind that General Mack would seek an outlet on this

side, to escape from the blockade with which he was menaced. The little

German princes, terrified or won over, had submitted to the yoke of

Napoleon, and accepted his alliance; the French troops had violated

neutral territories with impunity; the Russian armies were at last making

forced marches, and had just entered into Germany. At one moment Mack

appeared to discover the feeble point in the enemy's line; the left bank

of the Danube at Albech, was occupied by the divisions of Dupont and

Baraguey d'Hilliers, insufficient for resisting a violent attack. Murat,

who commanded the three divisions posted near Ulm, ordered Ney to recall

all the troops posted on the left bank. The marshal was indignant and

furious, but obeyed; but General Dupont had not accomplished his movement

when he was assailed by a corps of 25,000 Austrians, commanded by the

Archduke Ferdinand. The heroic resistance of the French troops enabled

them to fall back upon Albech with 1500 prisoners. The enemy contented

themselves with occupying the little town of Elchingen, and burning the

bridge.

Napoleon had quitted Augsburg, and Marshal Soult had just effected the

capitulation of Meiningen. The emperor ordered Ney to retake the positions

of Elchingen. The piles of the bridge had not been burnt, and under the

fire of the Austrians the platform was replaced, and the troops rushed

forward to the attack on the village. The convent which crowned the height

was taken at the bayonet's point. Always pushing the enemy before him, Ney

seized upon the heights of Michelsberg; the fire of his cannons commanded

the grand square in Ulm. The emperor in person had just arrived at the

camp.

The Archduke Ferdinand had succeeded in escaping during the night. In

spite of a frightful tempest he gained Biberach, and rejoined Wernek in

Bohemia. Murat pursued him, while Marshal Soult occupied Biberach.

Henceforth Mack found himself without resources. "The general-in-chief was

in the city," said the sixth bulletin of the grand army. "It is the

destiny of generals opposed to the emperor to be taken in town. It will be

remembered that after the splendid manoeuvres of the Brenta, the old

Field-Marshal Wurmser was made prisoner at Mantua; Melas was taken in

Alexandria; so is Mack in Ulm."

The emperor caused the Prince of Lichtenstein, major-general of the

Austrian army, to be summoned. "I desire" said he "that the place

capitulate; if I take it by assault, I shall he compelled to do what I did

at Jaffa, where the garrison was put to the sword. It is the sad law of

war. I desire that the necessity for such a frightful act should he spared

to me, as well as to the brave Austrian nation. The place is not tenable."

Mack consented to surrender if he was not succored before the 25th of

October. The rain fell in torrents. For eight days the emperor had not

taken off his boots. The Austrian prisoners were astonished to see him,

"soaked, covered with mud, as much fatigued as the lowest drummer in his

army, and even more so." An aide-de-camp repeated to Napoleon the remarks

of the enemy's officers. Napoleon replied quickly, "Your master has been

desirous of making me remember that I am a soldier," said he. "I hope he

will be convinced that the throne and the imperial purple have not made me

forget my first business."

Wernek had laid down his arms at Nordlingen; the archduke was fleeing into

Bohemia before the cavalry of Murat: the corps of Jellachich in the Tyrol,

and that of Kienmayer beyond the Inn, could send no succors to General

Mack. Urged to escape the horror of the situation, he forestalled the day

fixed for the capitulation: on the 20th of October, 1805, the garrison at

Ulm, which still counted 24,000 or 25,000 men, defiled slowly before the

conqueror. The troops were prisoners of war, the cannons and flags had

been abandoned; seven lieutenant-generals, eight generals, and the

general-in-chief, Mack, kept at the emperor's side, were present with

death in their souls at the ceremonial which proved their defeat. "In

fifteen days we have finished a campaign," said the proclamation of

Napoleon to his soldiers. "That which we proposed is completed. We have

driven the troops of the House of Austria from Bavaria, and re-established

our ally in the sovereignty of his States. That army which, with as much

ostentation as imprudence, came forward to place itself on our frontiers,

is annihilated. But what matters it to England? Her purpose is answered;

we are not at Boulogne, and the subsidy which she grants to Austria will

be neither larger nor smaller."

England resented the defeat of her ally more keenly than Napoleon

acknowledged in the bitterness of his hate. The rumor of the capitulation

of Ulm had reached London. On November 2nd, Lord Malmesbury was seated at

table beside Pitt, and spoke to him of the rumors he had heard. "Don't

believe a word of it; it is simply a lie," said Pitt, roughly, raising his

voice so as to make himself heard by those around him. "But the next day,

Sunday, the 3rd," continues Lord Malmesbury in his journal, "he entered my

house with Lord Mulgrave, about one o'clock, and they brought with them a

Dutch journal which contained at full length the capitulation of Ulm.

Neither of them knew that language, and all the officials were away. I

translated the article as well as I could, and I saw very clearly the

effect that it produced upon Pitt, in spite of the efforts he made to hide

it. This was the last time that I saw him. This visit left upon me a

profound impression, his manners and countenance were so altered; I

conceived from it, in spite of myself, the sad presentiment of the

misfortune which threatened us."

Pitt was again, for one day only, to taste for an instant of patriotic

joy, bitterly mingled with regret. In spite of the bravery to which

Napoleon did not always render justice, the French sailors, inexperienced

and badly commanded, had alone failed in the great projects confided to

them, and thwarted the hopes of the emperor. Before setting out for

Strasburg he had ordered the fleet at Brest to make several cruises, and

the fleet at Cadiz to take the soldiers it had on board to the support of

the movement of Gouvion St. Cyr in the Bay of Naples. "It might seize an

English vessel and a Russian frigate which are to be found there: it could

remain in the waters near Naples all the time necessary to do the greatest

possible harm to the enemy and intercept the convoy which he is projecting

to send to Malta. After this expedition it will return to Toulon, where it

will effect for me a powerful diversion. I estimate then that it is

necessary to do two things, first to send a special message to Admiral

Villeneuve, ordering him to effect this manoeuvre; second, as his

excessive pusillanimity will hinder him from undertaking it, you will send

Admiral Rosily to replace him. He will be the bearer of letters enjoining

upon Admiral Villeneuve to return to France, to render an account of his

conduct."

The minister of Marine was a friend of Villeneuve, and in announcing to

him the departure of Admiral Rosily, he did not make him acquainted with

his own disgrace. Leaving the consequences to chance, he had given up the

endeavor to influence the imperious will of Napoleon with regard to the

squadrons, and he dared not give instructions to Villeneuve. Villeneuve

divined what his friend hid from him. "The sailors of Paris and the

departments will be very unworthy and very foolish if they cast a stone at

me," wrote he to Decrès. "They will have themselves prepared the

condemnation which will strike them later on. Let them come on board the

squadrons, and they will see against what elements they are exposed to

fight. For the rest, if the French marine, as is maintained, has only

failed in daring, the emperor will shortly be satisfied, and may count

upon the most brilliant successes."

In the middle of October, without having united with the Spanish squadron

of Carthagena, nor the vessels which he had formerly imprudently detached

under the orders of Captain Allemand, Villeneuve left Cadiz in company

with Admiral Gravina and some Spanish vessels. The latter were large and

heavy, difficult to manoeuvre, and fitted with very second-rate crews. The

squadron of battle, commanded by Admiral Villeneuve and the Spanish Vice-

Admiral Alava, numbered twenty-one vessels. The squadron of reserve,

composed of twelve vessels, had been placed under the orders of Admiral

Gravina.

The forces of Nelson numerically equalled those of Villeneuve, but they

were infinitely superior to his in the quality of the vessels and their

crews. The illustrious English admiral was ill; for several weeks he had

sought repose in England. When he offered to resume the command of the

fleet, he was impressed with the idea that he should not again see his

country. He called upon the workman entrusted with making a coffin, which

Captain Hollowell had ordered to be made from a fragment of the keel of

the French vessel L'Orient [Footnote: L'Orient, commanded by Admiral

Brueys, foundered at Aboukir.] "Engrave the history of this coffin on the

plate," said he; "I shall probably have need of it before long." When at

length he appeared on board, the sailors cheered him as the assurance of

victory. The English admiral had carefully concealed the number of his

vessels, fearing Villeneuve might hesitate in view of his forces. On the

21st the Franco-Spanish fleet was entirely at sea, sailing in order of

battle. The English had formed in two lines; Admiral Collingwood, upon the

_Royal Sovereign_, commanded the first; Nelson, on board the _Victory_,

directed the second. He had given orders to bear down upon the French

lines in order to cut them. "The part of the enemy's fleet that you leave

out of the fight," said he, "will come with difficulty to the assistance

of the part attacked, and you will have conquered before it arrives." The

same signal was hoisted all over the fleet, "England expects that every

man will do his duty." Villeneuve had not less nobly announced his

intentions to his officers. "You need not wait for signals from the

admiral," were his orders; "in the confusion of a naval battle it is often

impossible to see what is going forward, or to give orders, or above all

to get them understood. Each one ought to listen only to the voice of

honor, and throw himself into the place of greatest danger. Every captain

is at his post if he is under fire." It was the misfortune of Admiral

Villeneuve in the battle of Trafalgar, that he did not adhere to his

original instructions. Gravina asked for authority to manoeuvre in an

independent manner. Villeneuve objected, and ordered him to place himself

in line. Already at midday Admiral Collingwood, separated from his column

by the superior swiftness of the _Royal Sovereign_, engaged so hotly in

battle with the _Santa Anna_, the flag-ship of the Spaniard Alava, that he

soon found himself in the midst of the enemy. "See how that brave

Collingwood hurls himself into action," said Nelson to his flag-officer;

whilst on his own deck, in the midst of the bullets that rained around

him, Collingwood cried, "Nelson would give all the world to be here." The

greater number of the Spanish captains offered a feeble resistance, and

Collingwood had already cut the line of battle. Gravina, upon the _Prince-

des-Asturies_, was surrounded by English vessels. The _Fougueux_, the

_Pluton_, the _Algésiras_, commanded by Rear-Admiral Magon, heroically

resisted overwhelming attacks. The _Redoutable_, the _Santissima-

Trinidad_, and the French flag-ship the _Bucentaure_, crowded in upon each

other, waited for the assault of the second column, which Nelson brought

against them. Like Collingwood, he had got in advance of his squadron. The

officers had begged of him to leave the vanguard to the _Téméraire_. "I am

quite willing," said Nelson, "that the _Téméraire_ should get in front if

it can;" and spreading all sail on board the _Victory_, he advanced first

against the enemy.

Already his topmast had been struck, and fifty men placed _hors de

combat_. The English admiral had given orders to separate the _Redoutable_

from the _Bucentaure_; but Captain Lucas, who commanded the former vessel,

profited by a slight breath of wind, and his bowsprit touched the stern of

the _Bucentaure_. Nelson then engaged the _Redoutable_, dashing against it

with a shock so violent that both vessels were thrown out of the line; the

_Bucentaure_ and the _Santissima-Trinidad_ were also surrounded by the

English. The struggle continued between Nelson and his courageous

adversary; the flames were breaking out every moment upon the French

vessel. "Hardy, this is too hot to last long," said Nelson to his flag-

captain. Presently a ball from the topmast of the Redoutable struck the

illustrious sailor in the loins. He fell, still supporting himself by one

hand. "Hardy, they have done for me now," said he. "No! not yet," cried

the captain, who sought to raise him up. "Yes," replied Nelson, "the spine

is hit;" and drawing his handkerchief from his pocket, he himself covered

his face and his decorations, in order to hide his fall from his crew.

"Take care!" said he, as they carried him down; "the cable of the helm is

cut." Between decks was crowded with the wounded and the dying. "Attend to

those whom you can save," said he to the surgeon; "as for me, there is

nothing to be done." Meanwhile he listened anxiously, noticing the

discharges of artillery, seeking to divine the issue of the combat. The

_Redoutable_ had been attacked by the _Téméraire_ and the Neptune at the

moment when the French sailors were preparing to board the _Victory_.

Captain Lucas was compelled to haul down his flag; of the 660 men of his

crew, 522 were _hors de combat_. The _Bucentaure_, caught by its bowsprit

in the gallery of the _Santissima-Trinidad_, was overwhelmed by the enemy,

and, held in its position by the Spanish vessel, completely dismasted.

Already the flag-officer and two lieutenants had been wounded by the side

of Admiral Villeneuve, who courted death in vain. The _Bucentaure_ was cut

down close like a pontoon. The admiral wished to pass on to another

vessel. Not a single boat was left him. When he at last pulled down his

flag he could not reply with a single cannon-shot to the English vessels

that were bent on his destruction.

Nelson still breathed. "Where is Hardy?" he repeated; "if he does not come

to me, it is because he is dead." The captain presently came down, too

much moved to utter a word. "How is it now with us?" said the dying man.

"All goes well," said Hardy; "ten vessels have already lowered their flag.

I see that the French are signalling to the vanguard to tack about. If

they come against the _Victory_ we will call for aid, and give them a

beating." "I hope none of our ships have surrendered," said Nelson. "There

is no danger," replied Hardy, who returned to his post. When he

reappeared, Nelson's eyes were closed. The captain stooped over him. "We

have fifteen prizes," said he. "I counted upon twenty," murmured the dying

man. Then rousing himself, "Anchor, Hardy, anchor; give the signal! Kiss

me ... I am satisfied. Thank God, I have done my duty." He expired,--just

forty-seven years of age.

The French Admiral Magon was still defending the _Algesiras_, attacked by

the _Tonnant_; he wanted to board her, but his deck was swept by the grape

shot of fresh assailants. Himself threatened with being boarded, the

admiral repulsed the English, axe in hand, at the head of his sailors. He

was covered with wounds. Bretonnière, become flag officer by the death of

his seniors, implored Magon to have his wounds dressed; as he yielded to

the request, a cannon-shot penetrating between decks struck him in the

chest, and he was dead. The _Algésiras_ at last hauled down her flag, at

the moment when the _Achille_, for some time already the prey of flames

which the crew had no time to extinguish, blew up with a terrific

explosion. Thus ended the battle. Admiral Gravina rallied round him eleven

vessels; a few had at an early period withdrawn from the combat. Admiral

Dumanoir, who had not succeeded in engaging his vanguard, had already

retired. The English carried off seventeen vessels, for the most part too

shattered to be of service. The unfortunate French admiral was received by

the conquerors with the honor due to his bravery. A few months later, when

released by the enemy, Villeneuve in despair was to die by his own hand in

an inn at Rennes, writing in the last moment these heartrending words:

"What a blessing that I have no child to receive my horrible inheritance,

and live under the weight of my name!"

The last orders of Nelson in dying, recommended the fleet to be anchored;

Collingwood judged otherwise, and waited till daylight. Already Admiral

Gravina had taken his vessels into the port of Cadiz, when a furious

tempest broke forth, irresistible by the ships so dreadfully damaged in

the conflict. The English had so much to do in looking after their own

safety that they could not attend to their prizes, and the officer having

charge of the _Bucentaure_ resigned it to the French commanders: the

unfortunate vessel perished on the coast, opposite Cape Diamant.

Indomitable in defeat as in battle, the officers and sailors of the

_Algesiras_ forced their guardians to surrender the vessel. They at last

escaped death, after two nights of anguish and struggle. At their side the

_Indomptable_, all hung with lanterns, its deck crowded with a despairing

crew, was forced from its anchors by the hurricane, and shattered against

the rocks. The English lost all their prizes but four; they were compelled

to sink the _Swiftsure_, captured by Admiral Ganteaume and which they were

intent on recapturing from us.

Nelson had made the request in dying, "Do not cast my poor body into the

sea." The most extraordinary honors awaited in England the remains of this

great seaman: the broken mast of his flag-ship, and one of the French

bullets whicn struck him, still attract attention in a room at Windsor.

The whole nation put on mourning; the politicians forgot the embarrassment

which he had more than once caused them, and which had drawn from one of

them the expression, "He is an heroic cockney." The splendor of his

military genius, his devotion to his country, the noble simplicity of his

character, inspired all minds with respect. The hero of the struggle

against France, he fell at the height of his glory. He had taken part in

nearly all the maritime victories which had signalized the war: the names

of Aboukir, Copenhagen, and Trafalgar render his memory glorious.

The emperor bore the blow of his defeat without showing despondency or

anger. "All this makes no change in my cruising projects," wrote he on the

18th November, to Admiral Decrès; "I am even annoyed that all is not

ready. They must set out without delay. Cause all the troops that are on

board the squadron to come to me by land. They will wait my orders at the

first town in France."

Napoleon was then at Znaïm in Moravia, and the date of his letter told the

story of his astonishing successes. Abandoned by the King of Prussia, with

whom the Austrians and the Russians had turned to account the violation of

his territory, Napoleon prepared to dispute Hanover with new enemies,

without modifying his general plan, and without renouncing his march upon

Vienna. The Russian army of Kutuzof alone barred his way; but already it

was commencing a clever movement of retreat, never fighting without

necessity, firm and resolute, however, when attacked. The Russians passed

the Danube at Krems, destroying the bridges behind them. They committed

great ravages during their march, and had gained the ill-will of the

Austrian corps who went with them, and who fell back upon Vienna. With

great imprudence General Mortier had been detached on the left bank of the

Danube, where he was attacked by the larger portion of the Russian army at

the very moment when he found himself separated from the division of

Dupont. In spite of the heroic resistance of the French soldiers the

danger was imminent. Mortier was urged to take to a boat, and not deliver

to the enemy a marshal of France. "Who would leave such brave men?"

replies Mortier; "we will be saved or perish together." A road lay open

across the ground occupied by the Russians, to the village of Dernstein;

the soldiers of General Dupont entered it at the same time from another

direction. They hastened by forced marches to the succor of the marshal.

Napoleon's anger fell heavily on Murat, whom he accused, not without

reason, of vainglorious levity. Already the brilliant general of cavalry

had presented himself at the gates of Vienna. The Emperor Francis had not

wished to expose his capital to the horrors of a siege; when he saw the

proposals for an armistice rejected which he had addressed to Napoleon

(November 8th) he prepared to quit Vienna. Less menacing than at Ulm, the

conqueror no longer invited the Emperor of Austria to meditate upon the

fall of empires: he reminded him that the present war was for Russia only

a fancy war; "for your Majesty and myself it is a war that absorbs all our

means, all our sentiments, all our faculties." Fifteen days later Napoleon

entered the palace of Schoenbrunn. Thanks to a ruse, more daring than

fair, Murat had succeeded in carrying the bridges of Vienna at the moment

when the workmen were preparing to blow them up; he was on the march for

Moravia, pursuing the Russians, with the co-operation of Mortier and

Bernadotte.

By his superior ability Napoleon struck his enemies at once with terror

and astonishment, paralyzing their forces by their anxiety at the

unforeseen blows he dealt them. The Archduke Charles had long remained

immovable on the Adige; when he at last commenced his retreat he marched

to the assistance of the threatened empire, and was pursued by Masséna.

The marshal attacked the archduke in his camp of Caldiero after having

seized Verona by night, and had fought him on the shores of the

Tagliamento; he was now approaching Marmont, who occupied the Styrian

Alps. The Archduke Charles rallying the remains of the army of his

brother, the Archduke John, was engaged with him in Hungary, in order to

rejoin the Russian army in Moravia. Before the two masses of the enemy

could reach Brünn, and in spite of the clever manoeuvre of Kutuzoff, who

succeeded before Hollabrunn in concealing from Murat and Lannes the great

bulk of his army, the French were, on the 19th of November, in possession

of the capital of Moravia. Napoleon entered it next day.

The Emperor Alexander joined the Emperor of Austria at Olmütz. Proud of

his diplomatic successes at Berlin, and convinced that his visit to the

King of Prussia had alone decided him to attach himself to the coalition,

he nursed a military ambition, assiduously encouraged by his young

favorites. The Emperor Francis sent Stadion and Giulay to Brünn,

commissioned to treat for conditions of peace. Napoleon referred them to

Talleyrand, whom he had sent to Vienna. "They know the state of the

question by what I have said to them in a few words," wrote he; "but you

have to treat it smoothly and at full length. My intention is absolutely

to have the State of Venice, and to reunite it to the kingdom of Italy. I

have good cause to think that the court of Vienna has taken its resolution

on that point."

Napoleon was wishing for peace--immediate, glorious, and fruitful. He had

vainly sought to separate the Austrians from the Russians; he could not

doubt the hostile intentions of Prussia. The very explanations that

Haugwitz had just given him as to the motives for the entry of a Prussian

army into Hanover foreshadowed plenty of approaching hostilities: a

brilliant victory, forestalling the union of the German and Russian

forces, became necessary. For a few days the soldiers rested, recruiting

their forces after their long and perilous marches. The impatience of the

Emperor Alexander had already carried the general quarters of the allies

to Wischau. It was there that General Savary presented himself, intrusted

with aimless negotiations, which gave him opportunity to examine the

condition of the Austro-Russian army. Prince Dolgorouki, sent from Brünn

with the reply of the Emperor Alexander, was received at the advanced

posts. The young favorite was thoughtless and proud. "What do they want of

me?" said Napoleon. "Why does the Emperor Alexander make war on me? Is he

jealous of the growth of France? Well, let him extend his frontiers at the

expense of his neighbors on the side of Turkey, and all quarrels will be

at an end." Dolgorouki protested the disinterestedness of his master. "The

emperor wishes," said he "for the independence of Europe, the evacuation

of Holland and Switzerland, an indemnity for the King of Sardinia, and

barriers round France for the protection of its neighbors." Napoleon broke

out in a passion: "I will never yield anything in Italy, even if the

Russians should camp upon the heights of Montmartre." He sent back the

negotiator, who had perceived the movements of troops falling back around

Brünn. Ignorant of the great principle which directed the campaigns of

Napoleon--"divide in order to subsist, concentrate in order to fight"--he

thought he divined the preparations for retreat. The ardor of the Russian

army grew more intense. It advanced towards the position long studied by

Napoleon, and which he destined for his field of battle. In accordance

with the plan of the Austrian general, Weirother, who was in great favor

with the Emperor Alexander, the allies had resolved to turn the right of

the French army, in order to cut off the road to Vienna by isolating

numerous corps dispersed in Austria and Styria. Already the two emperors

and their staff-officers occupied the castle and village of Austerlitz. On

December 1st, 1805, the allies established themselves upon the plateau of

Platzen; Napoleon had by design left it free. Divining, with the sure

instinct of superior genius, the manoeuvres of his enemy, he had cleverly

drawn them into the snare. His proclamation to the troops announced all

the plan of the battle.

"Soldiers," said he, "the Russian army presents itself before you to

avenge the Austrian army of Ulm. These are the same battalions which you

have beaten at Hollabrunn, and that you have constantly pursued to this

place.

"The positions that we occupy are formidable, and whilst they march to

turn my right they will present me their flank.

"Soldiers, I will myself direct your battalions. I will keep myself away

from the firing if, with your accustomed bravery, you carry disorder and

confusion into the enemy's ranks. But if the victory were for a moment

uncertain you would see your emperor expose himself to the brunt of the

attack; for this victory will finish the campaign, and we shall be able to

resume our winter quarters, where we shall be joined by new armies which

are forming in France. Then the peace I shall make will be worthy of my

people, of you, and of me."

It was late, and the emperor had just dismissed Haugwitz, whom he had sent

back to Vienna. "I shall see you again if I am not carried off to-morrow

by a cannon-ball. It will be time then to understand each other." Napoleon

went out to visit the soldiers at the bivouac. A great ardor animated the

troops; it was remembered that the 2nd December was the anniversary of the

coronation of the emperor. The soldiers gathered up the straw upon which

they were stretched, making it into bundles, which they lit at the end of

poles; a sudden illumination lit up the camp. "Be assured," said an old

grenadier, advancing towards the chief who had so many times led his

comrades to victory, "I promise thee that we will bring thee to-morrow the

flags and the cannon of the Russian army to signalize the anniversary of

the 2nd December."

The fires were extinguished, and the enemies thought they saw in it the

indication of a nocturnal retreat. Gathered around a map, the allied

generals listened to Weirother, who developed his plan of battle "with a

boasting air, which displayed in him a clear persuasion of his own merit

and of our incapacity," says General Langeron, a French emigrant officer

in the Russian army. Old Kutuzof slept. "If Bonaparte had been able to

attack us, he would have done it to-day," was the assurance of Weirother.

"You do not then think him strong?" "If he has 40,000 men, it is all." "He

has extinguished his fires; a good deal of noise comes from his camp." "He

is either retreating or else he is changing his position; if he takes that

of Turas, he will spare us a good deal of trouble, and the dispositions of

the troops will remain the same." The day was scarcely begun (2nd

December, 1805) when the allied army was on the march. The noise of the

preparations in the camps had reassured Napoleon as to the direction the

enemy would take. On the previous evening, whilst listening to the learned

lecture of Weirother, Prince Bagration, formerly the heroic defender of

the positions of Hollabrunn, had uttered under his long moustache, "The

battle is lost!" In seeing his enemies advance towards the right, as he

had himself announced to his soldiers, Napoleon could not withhold the

signs of his joy. He held the victory in his own hands. He waited

patiently until his enemies had deployed their line. The sun had just

risen, shining through the midst of a fog, which it dispersed with its

brilliant rays. The plateau of Pratzen was in part abandoned; the emperor

gave the signal, and the whole French army moved forward, forming an

enormous and compact mass, eager to hurl itself on the enemy. "See how the

French climb the height without staying to respond to our fire!" said

Prince Czartoriski, who watched the battle near the two emperors. He was

still speaking when already the allied columns, thrown out one after

another on the slope, found themselves arrested in their movement and

separated from the two wings of the army. Old Kutuzof, badly wounded,

strove in vain to send aid to the disordered centre. "See, see, a mortal

wound!" he cried, extending his arms towards Pratzen.

During this time the right, commanded by Marshal Davout, disputed with the

Russians the line of Goldbach, extricating with the division of Friant

General Legrand for a moment outflanked. Murat and Lannes attacked on the

left eighty-two Russian and Austrian squadrons, under the orders of Prince

John of Lichtenstein. The infantry advanced in quick time against the

Uhlans sent against them, soon dispersed by the light cavalry of

Kellermann. The Russian batteries drowned the sound of all the drums of

the first regiment of the division of Cafarelli. General Valhubert had his

thigh fractured, and his soldiers wished to carry him away. "Remain at

your posts," said he calmly. "I know well how to die alone. We must not

for one man lose six." The Russian guard at last turned towards Pratzen. A

French battalion, which had let itself be drawn in pursuit, was in danger.

Napoleon, stationed at the centre with the infantry of the guard, and the

corps of Bernadotte, perceived the disorder. "Take there the Mamelukes and

the chasseurs of the guard," said he to Rapp. When the latter returned to

the emperor he was wounded, but the Russians, were repulsed, and Prince

Repnin prisoner. A Russian division, isolated at Sokolnitz, had just

surrendered; two columns had been thrown back beyond the marshes. The

bridge broke under the weight of the artillery. The cold was intense; and

the soldiers thought to save themselves by springing upon the ice, but

already the French cannon-balls were breaking it under their feet. With

cries of despair they were engulfed in the waters of the lake. Generals

Doctoroff and Keinmayer effected their painful retreat, under the fire of

our batteries, by a narrow embankment, separating the two lakes of Melnitz

and Falnitz. Only the corps of Prince Bagration still kept in order of

battle, Marshal Lannes having restrained his troops which were rushing

forward in pursuit.

The day had come to a close; the two emperors had abandoned the terrible

battle-field. Behind them resounded the French shouts of victory; around

them, before them, they heard the imprecations of the fugitives, the

groans of the wounded, unable any longer to keep on their way, the

complaints of the peasants ravaged by the furious soldiery. They arrived

thus at the imperial castle of Halitsch, where they found themselves next

day pressed by Marshal Davout. Austerlitz became the headquarters of the

conqueror.

Before even having reached a place of safety the Emperor Francis, gloomy

and calm, had in his own mind taken his decision. Prince John of

Lichtenstein was sent to ask from Napoleon an armistice and an interview.

The conqueror was still traversing the field of battle, attentive in

procuring for his soldiers the care that their bravery merited. "The

interview, when the emperor will, the day after to-morrow, at our advanced

posts," said he to the Austrian envoy; "until then, no armistice." Whilst

Napoleon was speaking to his army and to Europe, Marshal Lannes and the

cavalry were already pursuing the vanquished enemy.

"Soldiers, I am satisfied with you," said he in his proclamation of the

3rd December, 1805. "You have upon the day of Austerlitz justified all

that I expected from your intrepidity. An army of 100,000 men, commanded

by the Emperors of Russia and Austria, has been in less than four hours

either cut up or dispersed, and what escaped from your steel is drowned in

the lakes. Forty flags, the standards of the Imperial Guard of Russia, a

hundred and twenty pieces of cannon, twenty generals, and more than thirty

thousand prisoners are the results of this ever-memorable day. In three

months this third coalition has been vanquished and dissolved. Soldiers,

when all that is necessary in order to assure the happiness and prosperity

of France shall be accomplished, I will lead you back into France; there

you will be the object of my most tender solicitude. My people will see

you again with joy, and it will suffice for you to say, 'I was at the

battle of Austerlitz,' to receive the reply, 'There is a hero!'"

The army rested, intoxicated with pride and joy. The losses, considerable

in themselves, were small in comparison with the disasters inflicted on

the coalition; the arrogance of the Russians had undergone a most painful

check; the youthful illusions of their Czar cruelly dissipated. The

Emperor of Austria informed him of his pacific intentions, and Alexander

hastened to release his allies from their engagements; he was in a hurry

to retire and disengage himself from a war which could procure for him no

other advantage than a vain hope of glory.

Napoleon repeated his former sentiments to the Emperor Francis when he met

him next day at the mill of Paleny, between Nasiedlowitz and Urschitz. "Do

not confound your cause with that of the Emperor Alexander. Russia can to-

day only make a fancy war (_une guerre de fantaisie_). Conquered, she

retires into her deserts, and you pay all the costs of the war." Then,

gracefully returning to the courtesies of society, the all-powerful

conqueror made excuses for the poor place in which he was compelled to

receive his illustrious host.

"These are the palaces," said he, "which your Majesty has compelled me to

inhabit for three months past." "Your visit has succeeded sufficiently

well for you to have no right to bear me any grudge," replied the Emperor

Francis. The two monarchs embraced, and the armistice was concluded. The

Russians were to retire by stages, and the seat of negotiations was fixed

at Brünn. A formal order from Napoleon was necessary in order to stop the

march of Marshal Davout in pursuit of the Russian army. General Savary was

entrusted with this order; he brought to the Czar the conditions of the

armistice. "I am satisfied, since my ally is," replied Alexander, and he

allowed to escape from him the expression of an admiration which was long

to exercise over him a profound influence. "Your master has shown himself

very great," said he to Savary.

Napoleon left Talleyrand at Brünn exchanging arguments with Stadion and

Giulay; he himself repaired to Vienna, where Haugwitz awaited him.

Imperfectly instructed as to the alliance concluded on the 3rd of November

at Potsdam between the King of Prussia and the allies, he knew enough of

it to break forth in violent reproaches against the perfidy of the

Prussian Government. And as Haugwitz made excuses and protests, the

Emperor proposed to him all of a sudden that union with France which had

been so often discussed. Hanover was to be the price of it. Prussia was

uneasy, frightened, divided in her councils, but she accepted; the

Marquisate of Anspach, the Principality of Neufchâtel, and the Duchy of

Clèves were ceded to France, and the treaty was signed at Schönbrunn on

the 15th December, 1805. Prussia recognized all the conquests of Napoleon;

the two sovereigns reciprocally guaranteed each other's possessions.

Talleyrand had just quitted Brünn, which had become unhealthy through the

overcrowding of the hospitals; the negotiations were being carried on at

Presburg. In spite of the wise and prudent counsels of his minister,

Napoleon was resolved on exacting from Austria still more than he had

declared before Ulm. The defection of Prussia had thoroughly disheartened

the plenipotentiaries of the Emperor Francis. The French armies

concentrated afresh around Vienna. Napoleon was doubly imperious,

threatening to recommence the war; the negotiators at length yielded to

necessity. On the 26th of December, 1805, peace was signed at Presburg

between France and Austria. The Emperor Francis abandoned to the conqueror

Venice, Istria, Frioul, and Dalmatia, which were to become part of the

kingdom of Italy; the Tyrol and Vorarlberg, of which Napoleon made a

present to Bavaria; the outlying territories of Suabia, handed over to

Wurtemberg; the Brisgau, Ortenau, and the city of Constance, which were

added to the territories of the Elector of Baden. Napoleon ceded to the

Emperor the Principality of Wurtzburg for one of the archdukes; the

secularization of the Teutonic Order was agreed upon to the profit of

Austria; the latter power was to pay a war indemnity of forty millions.

The small German princes, who beheld their possessions increased and their

titles made more glorious by the powerful hand of the conqueror, were in

their turn to pay the price of the terrible alliance which weighed upon

them. The new Kings of Wurtemberg and Bavaria found themselves obliged to

give their daughters to Jerome Bonaparte and to Eugène de Beauharnais; the

marriage that the former had contracted in America, and the betrothal of

the Princess of Bavaria to the son of the Elector of Baden, weighed

nothing in the balance in comparison with the iron will of Napoleon.

Intimidated and restless, the Elector of Baden himself broke off the

marriage of his son, accepting for him the hand of Stéphani de

Beauharnais, niece of the Empress Josephine. Before taking the road to

France, the Emperor was present at the marriage of the vice-King of Italy

with the princess whose portrait he had seen a few days before upon a

porcelain cup. Everything had yielded to his power,--sovereigns, families,

and hearts. Russia and England alone remained openly enemies. "Rest

awhile, my children," said the Archduke Charles in disbanding his army;

"rest awhile, until we begin again."

I have been desirous of conducting General Bonaparte, now become the

Emperor Napoleon, up to the popular summit of his glory. He had already

tainted it by many acts of violence, and by an exclusive devotion to

personal ends, in defiance of justice and liberty. Henceforward and under

the disastrous inspirations of a mad ambition, victory itself was to

become a fatal seduction which by inevitable degrees draws us on to ruin.

Great and terrible lesson of Divine justice on the morality of nations!

Starting from the violation of the peace of Amiens, and in spite of the

glory of the sun of Austerlitz, the history of the glory of the conqueror

includes in germ the history of his fall, and of the ever-increasing

misfortunes of France.