[Footnote 15: Further references are the Tratchefski Archives
in Vol. LXX, Societe d'histoire de Russie. Martens: Traites
de la Russie. Montgelas: Denkwuerdigkeiten. Eckart: Montgelas.
Fournier: Studien und Skizzen. Reinach: Correspondance
Royaliste. Pingaud: d'Antraigues. Stanhope: Life of Pitt.]
A CONSTITUTIONAL DESPOTISM
Policy of the First Consul -- His Family -- The New Officials --
The Council of State -- Bonaparte's Ubiquity -- Foreign Affairs
-- France and Russia -- The Mistake of Prussia -- Peace
Impossible -- Bonaparte's Plans -- His Aims -- The Temper of
Great Britain -- Bonaparte's Appeal to the Army -- The Military
Situation.
[Sidenote: 1800]
The makers of a paper constitution cannot foresee every detail in the
working of its provisions; and contrary to the expectation at least of
Sieyes, the form which the new government took at the outset was
largely personal. The Consulate and the ministry were entirely so,
their members being chosen with a keen business instinct, like that of
a great industrial or commercial master, for personal character,
integrity, capacity, and devotion. "What revolutionary," said Napoleon
to his brother Joseph, "would not have confidence in an order of
things where Fouche is minister? What gentleman would not expect to
find existence possible under the former Bishop of Autun? One keeps my
left, the other my right. I open a broad path where all may walk."
This was so far true, but such nice discrimination could not be
exercised in filling the hundreds of minor offices. France is second
to no land in the ambition of its people for office-holding, and among
the thousands of greedy claimants it was not easy to choose. There
were many mistakes made in selecting the petty officials, and the
disappointed formed a large class of embittered malcontents from the
very inauguration of the consular system. There were the senate, the
legislature, the council of state, the tribunate, the whole judicial
administration, all to be filled. It was understood that the official
emoluments would not be niggardly. When finally fixed, the salary of a
senator was twenty-five thousand francs; that of a tribune, fifteen
thousand; that of a legislator, ten thousand. As a measure of relative
importance it is interesting to note that the First Consul had five
hundred thousand a year, and each of his colleagues one hundred and
fifty thousand.
So swiftly and thoroughly did Paris and France absorb the concept of
monarchy in the Consulate, that the powers and fortunes of the First
Consul were scarcely considered in relation to those of the other two,
who, far from parity, were barely coadjutant. What the nation felt and
accepted, but scarcely whispered, the Bonaparte family discussed with
shameless greediness. How far soever Napoleon removed himself in other
respects from the primitive institutions of Corsican barbarism, in one
he never so far had varied: the sense of clanship. His brothers and
sisters were men and women of parts, but they were undisciplined in
language and behavior: their natural appetites were never concealed,
nor their tongues bridled. Napoleon acknowledged the fraternal bond in
the tribal sense; for every one of them he desired to provide
handsomely in money and honor, and he expected the return of affection
and loyalty. Behind his back they discussed his death and the
succession, formed cabals of supporters, wrangled for influence and
power. Of this their brother was not unaware, and the danger (p.~151)
of their irregular conduct was ever present to him. But he could not
bring himself to check them. At this moment when their activities were
most pernicious, he intended Lucien to be the master politician,
Joseph the master negotiator, Louis a general, and Jerome an admiral.
Their intercourse with official France might make or mar the fortunes
not only of their brother but also of themselves.
The new officials were selected from every walk of life, from every
shade of opinion, from every stratum of society. The intention was
that they should have no bond but a common interest in the new order.
The senate became a high place for the successful among the old, the
men whose day was over. Monge, Berthollet, Volney, and the like were
found on its benches. The silent legislature was filled with the
majority of those whose ardent and uninstructed ambitions were easily
muzzled by the tenure of place, and found a sufficient vent in casting
a voiceless vote. The tribunes, "legislative eunuchs," as they have
been called, were men such as Daunou, Benjamin Constant, and J. B.
Say--the elect among the able and intelligent of the day. Their duty
was to debate the nature and utility of all bills with the proposers,
the council of state; and it was expected that the fiery logic and
merciless criticism which they were sure to employ would rebound
harmlessly from the benches on which their opponents sat. If freedom
of debate and liberty of speech became too dangerous even in such
remoteness from action, the superfluous institution could be
suppressed without a jar in the machinery of state. There was possibly
a hint of this in the fact that the tribunes found shelter in the
Palais Royal, then the haunt of prostitutes and the refuge of the
great gambling-hells which were so numerous. To the end of its days
the tribunate was the one asylum of liberty under the constitution of
the year VIII. It was supposed, as has just been said, that the
impotence of the tribunes would be offset by the independence of the
council of state.
In this last body, therefore, were assembled three important classes:
sincere Bonapartists like Roederer, Regnault de St.-Jean-d'Angely, and
Boulay de la Meurthe; clever specialists like Ganteaume, Chaptal, and
Fourcroy, who were quite willing to serve the First Consul; and a
number of proselytes from among the royalists and other factions. For
the most part these were men of great ability, and for a time they
found in the First Consul a disinterestedness in serving France which
made them his devoted servants. The personality of the council was
Bonaparte's, and whatever independence it possessed was his. The court
of appeals was duly organized by the senate, which had this right as
being the guardian of the constitution. The justices and councilors of
a supreme court, the copestone of the judiciary, were nominated by the
same body. The other courts were also ably manned with officials who,
though not servile, were stanch supporters of the new government.
Before the time when the campaign could open in the spring of 1800,
all these parts were intended to be, and actually were, running
smoothly; but they were running by the inspiration and activity of a
single man. The council of state was his greater self, the senate his
instrument of governing; the legislative body was as silent as the
tribunate was noisy--neither was a serious check on his plans.
Legislation of the greatest importance was under way; it was all
devised for purposes of centralization, and was studied in detail by
the First Consul. Administration was proceeding with scarcely any
friction whatsoever; but this was because Bonaparte kept his eye on
each separate office, and carefully superintended its working. By
special arrangement foreign relations were considered and settled in
secret consultation by the chief of state and Talleyrand; but the
latter dared not pretend that in unraveling the threads of so tangled
a web, or in their skilful rearrangement, the initiative was his.
Carnot, at his old work, with his old genius unimpaired, needed little
encouragement; but even in his department every corps, every
battalion, every regiment, every company of all the arms,--cavalry,
infantry, and artillery of every class, conscript, soldier, reserve,
and home guard,--each and all were known to the First Consul.
Incredible and exaggerated as such statements must appear, the
testimony to their truth is so abundant and unimpeachable that it
seems to the reader as if at this crisis there had appeared in Europe
a being neither human, demoniac, nor celestial, but a man with
superhuman powers of endurance, apprehension, and labor, an angel
without perfection, a demon without malevolence. For, on the whole,
Bonaparte's work, while replete with dangerous expedients, and, as the
future conclusively proved, inspired by self-seeking, was beneficent,
constructive, and permanent in regard not merely to France, but to
Europe and the world.
In the opening months of 1800 the Continental situation was even more
peculiar than usual. In 1799 the Directory had, as a financial
measure, incorporated Belgium with France, and her provinces, like all
other parts of the country, paid heavy taxes. This could not be
changed; and in regard to the minor states still nominally
independent, but really under French control, the old policy of the
Directory could likewise not immediately be dropped. Massena had just
made a forced levy in Switzerland. Genoa was laid under a (p.~154)
fresh contribution of two million francs, and menaced with a forced
levy. It was arranged that Holland should pay forty million francs for
the restitution of Flushing; and Amsterdam was invited to lend ten
more, but refused. Hamburg was secretly held out to Prussia as the
price of an alliance with France. Publicly the Hohenzollern monarchy
was praised for its refusal to surrender some important political
refugees to the coalition, and was offered the friendship of France at
the price of four to six millions of francs. It was determined that
Portugal, which, having been exhausted by a long alliance with
England, now earnestly desired peace, should be told informally by
Talleyrand that it could be purchased by a contribution of from eight
to ten millions for the Army of Italy. Paul I of Russia, already angry
with Austria, was confirmed in his friendship for France by many acts
of courtesy. The Russian prisoners of war received new clothes, and
were released; the First Consul, recognizing the Czar's quixotic
interest in the Knights of Malta, sent to him the sword of Valetta,
captured on the seizure of the island. A treaty of peace between
France and Russia speedily ensued.
This of course effectually checked Turkey, and soon afterward
competent experts were appointed by Paul to consider the details of a
combined Franco-Russian expedition for the invasion of India by land,
and to parcel out Asia between the two powers. The scheme originated
with an agent of the Directory, named Guttin, who after a sojourn in
Russia had boldly suggested that as Russia could never be even touched
by modern ideas, and as the international propaganda of cosmopolitan
republicanism must needs stop at her frontiers, there was but one
course open: to seek her alliance. Bonaparte carefully studied the
long and persuasive report, began his preparations to realize the
policy in the far future, was mindful of it at Tilsit, and, thwarted
in his hope of keeping Russia an eastern power, found his first
serious check in the campaign fought to coerce her. The expedition
planned by him and Paul, as a side thrust at Great Britain, embraced
both India and Persia in its details. Should it succeed, even the
island kingdom might one day find itself a tamed and trained unit in
the federation of western and central Europe under the aegis of a new
western emperor, dividing the world with him who claimed to be the
eastern; the heir and successor of those Romans who had reigned from
Byzantium.
The center of gravity on the Continent remained in Prussia. As the
land of Frederick, and the rival of Austria, she supposed herself to
represent the liberal side of German life. In fact, there was a strong
French party at Berlin, which felt that the republic had been fighting
Prussia's battle in weakening the house of Austria. But Frederick
William III, the young King, was timid, cautious, and full of
self-esteem. He was overmastered by the specious idea, also cherished
by his prime minister, that a firm neutrality would recuperate the
strength of his country and people while internecine warfare was
exhausting the rest of Europe. On this ground he had so far stood
unshaken; and though the sympathies of his house had always been, in
the main, on the side of absolutism, he refused the alliance of the
absolutist coalition, and remained obstinate between the two
alternatives. Nor did he falter until he destroyed his own prestige.
The country itself would have been sacrificed but for the national
uprising which some years later compelled him to take a decided stand.
The Directory had longed to secure Prussia as part of the French
system in Europe, and finally sent Sieyes to engage her as an ally.
But the envoy spent more energy in intriguing against his employers,
and in devising schemes for the monarchical system which was to
supplant them in France, than in his proper work, and succeeded only
in confirming the King of Prussia in his policy. Bonaparte sent two
representatives, Duroc and Beurnonville, to renew the negotiation and
obtain Prussia's active assistance. They were received with much show
of kindness, and the hopes of the latter envoy rose high, but only to
be shattered. Privately the King notified Sandoz, his minister in
Paris, that if France were defeated in the inevitable impending
conflict, Prussia would reclaim her territories on the left bank of
the Rhine, and declare war to secure them. The treaties in which she
had renounced them were waste paper in this case; but until the event
were decided she would stir neither hand nor foot.
With Prussia persistently neutral, and all the minor states
exasperated not only by the continued billeting of French troops upon
them, but by new demands for money, France was virtually left alone
against Austria and England in the coming campaign. This situation was
perfectly clear to the French people; but in view of all that had
happened since the change of government, it appeared to every one not
only as if reasonable offers of peace on the part of the First Consul
had been refused, but as if French honor were inseparably united with
the policy of war forced upon him. Though not proved, it is reiterated
that this was what Bonaparte wanted. Subsequent events support the
hypothesis; and if it be true, no schemer ever met with such perfect
success. A career of aggressive extension was apparently forced upon
him.
Three great revolutionary concepts of foreign policy were therefore
the outcome of Bonaparte's studies in the exhibition of Austrian and
British policy, of French temperament and personal ambition: the
mastery of the Mediterranean basin and thereby of the Orient; the
extension of a revolutionary liberal system in Europe by the conquest
and protectorate of the Continent; and the leadership of the world for
the French nation, still as ever enthusiastic for lofty ideals and
great deeds. Similar notions had not been foreign to the ancient
regime, but England had prevented their fulfilment. The republic,
having vaguely enlarged them, had fought for them as France had never
fought before, because these things were not to be achieved for a
dynasty, and were now illuminated by visions of human regeneration.
Still England stood in the way. Bonaparte had given them new shape and
new intensity with new definition; logically his success would stand
for that most splendid of ideals which has ever dazzled poets,
theologians, and kings--the universality of empire for peace and its
arts, and the consequent elevation of all mankind. By the conquests of
Alexander, Caesar, and Charles the Great, animated as was each in turn
by ambition and fiery zeal, nations, tribes, and institutions had been
melted in one crucible. Each of those heroes had done a wondrous work
in the advance of civilization, but their gains had been indirect. The
experiment was to be tried for a fourth time. Would England again and
finally dash the French Utopia into ruins?
For the moment Great Britain might be well content. India was safer
for the overthrow of Tippoo, Ceylon was conquered, Egypt blockaded,
and supremacy regained in the West Indies as well. Malta was in her
hands, the Dutch fleet had been destroyed, the French and Spanish
fleets were imprisoned at Brest. It is true the liberal agitations
inaugurated and kept alive by the discontent of her middle and lower
classes were hard to repress; but they were mercilessly crushed as
they came to the surface, and on the whole, public opinion supported
the policy. That Grenville was subsidizing Georges Cadoudal with half
a million francs to reorganize the Chouannerie of western France, and
strike the "essential blow," was barely suspected. The proof has only
come to light a century later. Assassination is an ugly word: it was
not used, but it was contemplated. If this were the temper of Great
Britain, that of Austria, her ally, was even more irreconcilable.
Expansion in Italy was the focal concept of her policy. There was no
expense of money and men she would refuse to consider for erasing the
blot of Campo Formio. She had recruited her treasury and her army by
British aid, and was defiant. The letter to her Emperor from the First
Consul, as of equal to equal, was a crowning insult.
The first four months of the Consulate had not left the First Consul
without enemies at home both numerous and bitter; moreover, many
narrow minds--men who, like Talleyrand, were ignorant of how
impossible the permanent return of the Bourbons had become--considered
Bonaparte's tenure of power only as a transition to the old order. But
at the critical instant, in April of the last year of the eighteenth
century, France as a whole, including even the factions which had
hoped to use him as a tool, felt that her doctrines, her aspirations,
and her fate were personified in the great Corsican. His own motives
may properly be stigmatized as those of personal ambition; but they
were much more. Half educated and half barbarous as he was in his
disdain of human limitations, there was in his heart a clear
conception that good can come only of good, and therefore he had a
definite purpose to do the most possible in order to illuminate his
own rise by the regeneration of society. Himself a man without a
country,--for all his patriotic aspirations perished in Corsica's
desperate failure,--he cared little for territorial limits, and
utterly failed to comprehend the strength of national ties. Without
sincere ecclesiastical feeling or an earnest faith, he partly
understood the value of religious sentiment in the individual, but
underrated utterly its moral preponderance in the social organism. The
church to him was little more than a "white" police force. A
consummate actor, he estimated at its full the influence of the
dramatic word and situation on the common mind, but was often
self-deceived while believing others misled or beguiled by his acting.
It is not at all inconsistent with a possible sincerity in the
ostensibly pacific foreign policy he was pursuing that, even before
the decision to fight had apparently been forced upon him, two
manifestoes rang out to the troops. To the Army of the Rhine he said:
"You have conquered Holland, the Rhine, and Italy, and have dictated
peace under the walls of terrified Vienna. Now it is not a question of
defending your borders, but of overpowering hostile states." To the
Army of Italy in particular he said, with reference to a too notorious
instance in which during the previous year a half-brigade had shown
the white feather: "Are they all dead, the brave men of Castiglione,
of Rivoli, and of Neumarkt? They would rather have perished than have
been untrue to their colors; and they surely would have dragged their
younger comrades on to honor and to duty. Soldiers, you say your
rations are not regularly distributed. What would you have done if,
like Four and Twenty-two of the light infantry, like Eighteen and
Thirty-two of the line, you had found yourselves in the midst of the
desert, without bread, without water, with nothing to eat but the
flesh of horses and mules? 'Victory will give us bread,' said they;
and you--you desert your standards!" Such words, from such a man,
could leave no soldier of any nation unmoved. The Frenchmen in the
ranks were thrilled by them; the general who wrote them understood
that peace without glory was a broken reed for an aspiring ruler. He
had proffered the olive-branch, but he must, in order completely to
win his people, chastise those who had spurned it. Austria, in
particular, must get another lesson in humility.
On the eve of active operations in the first months of 1800 the
military situation was as follows: The Italian line stretched from
Genoa around by Savona to the Col di Tenda. On it were thirty thousand
men, under Massena, while ten thousand more guarded the passes of the
Alps. Confronting it was an Austrian force of eighty thousand men,
under Melas, a general of the old formal school, hampered by tradition
and by the machinery of the Aulic Council in Vienna. In Tuscany, in
the Papal States, and in Piedmont were twenty thousand Austrian
soldiers in garrison. On the Rhine stood Moreau, with a hundred and
twenty thousand men, facing a less able antagonist than Melas in the
person of Kray, whose army was about equal in number to his own. The
Austrian lines stretched from the falls of the Rhine northward by
their headquarters at Donaueschingen to Kinzig. The greatest of the
Austrian generals, the Archduke Charles, was not in the field. A
sensitive epileptic, he had been wounded by the incessant and meddling
interference of the Vienna bureaucrats, and had temporarily withdrawn
from service. The plan of Francis and his ministry was to drive back
Massena's inferior force; then, with the aid of the English fleet,
which arrived in March, under Keith, to reduce Genoa, where Massena
was sure to make a stand; then to cross the Var, and increase the
numerical superiority of the Austrians still further by a union with
the royalists of Provence, who were organizing under Pichegru, just
escaped from Guiana; and finally to carry the war into the heart of
France, while Kray held Moreau in check.