I have stated it to be--an insatiable love of aggrandizement, an
implacable spirit of destruction directed against all the civil and
religious institutions of every country? This is the first moving
and acting spirit of the French revolution; this is the spirit which
animated it at its birth, and this is the spirit which will not desert
it till the moment of its dissolution, 'which grew with its growth,
which strengthened with its strength,' but which has not abated under
its misfortunes nor declined in its decay; it has been invariably the
same in every period, operating more or less, according as accident
or circumstances might assist it; but it has been inherent in the
revolution in all its stages, it has equally belonged to Brissot, to
Robespierre, to Tallien, to Reubel, to Barras, and to every one of the
leaders of the Directory, but to none more than to Buonaparte, in whom
now all their powers are united. What are its characters? Can it be
accident that produced them? No, it is only from the alliance of the
most horrid principles with the most horrid means, that such miseries
could have been brought upon Europe. It is this paradox, which we must
always keep in mind when we are discussing any question relative to
the effects of the French revolution. Groaning under every degree of
misery, the victim of its own crimes, and, as I once before expressed
it in this House, asking pardon of God and of man for the miseries
which it has brought upon itself and others, France still retains
(while it has neither left means of comfort nor almost of subsistence
to its own inhabitants) new and unexampled means of annoyance and
destruction against all the other Powers of Europe.
Its first fundamental principle was to bribe the poor against the
rich, by proposing to transfer into new hands, on the delusive notion
of equality, and in breach of every principle of justice, the whole
property of the country; the practical application of this principle
was to devote the whole of that property to indiscriminate plunder,
and to make it the foundation of a revolutionary system of finance,
productive in proportion to the misery and desolation which
it created. It has been accompanied by an unwearied spirit of
proselytism, diffusing itself over all the nations of the earth; a
spirit which can apply itself to all circumstances and all situations,
which can furnish a list of grievances, and hold out a promise of
redress equally to all nations, which inspired the teachers of French
liberty with the hope of alike recommending themselves to those who
live under the feudal code of the German Empire; to the various
states of Italy, under all their different institutions; to the old
republicans of Holland, and to the new republicans of America; to
the Catholic of Ireland, whom it was to deliver from Protestant
usurpation; to the Protestant of Switzerland, whom it was to deliver
from popish superstition; and to the Mussulman of Egypt, whom it was
to deliver from Christian persecution; to the remote Indian, blindly
bigoted to his ancient institutions; and to the natives of Great
Britain, enjoying the perfection of practical freedom, and justly
attached to their constitution, from the joint result of habit, of
reason, and of experience. The last and distinguishing feature is a
perfidy which nothing can bind, which no tie of treaty, no sense of
the principles generally received among nations, no obligation, human
or divine, can restrain. Thus qualified, thus armed for destruction,
the genius of the French revolution marched forth, the terror and
dismay of the world. Every nation has in its turn been the witness,
many have been the victims, of its principles, and it is left for us
to decide whether we will compromise with such a danger, while we have
yet resources to supply the sinews of war, while the heart and spirit
of the country is yet unbroken, and while we have the means of calling
forth and supporting a powerful co-operation in Europe.
Much more might be said on this part of the subject; but if what I
have said already is a faithful, though only an imperfect, sketch of
those excesses and outrages, which even history itself will hereafter
be unable fully to record, and a just representation of the principle
and source from which they originated, will any man say that we ought
to accept a precarious security against so tremendous a danger? Much
more will he pretend, after the experience of all that has passed, in
the different stages of the French revolution, that we ought to be
deterred from probing this great question to the bottom, and from
examining, without ceremony or disguise, whether the change which has
recently taken place in France is sufficient now to give security, not
against a common danger, but against such a danger as that which I
have described?
In examining this part of the subject, let it be remembered that there
is one other characteristic of the French revolution, as striking as
its dreadful and destructive principles; I mean the instability of
its Government, which has been of itself sufficient to destroy all
reliance, if any such reliance could, at any time, have been placed
on the good faith of any of its rulers. Such has been the incredible
rapidity with which the revolutions in France have succeeded each
other, that I believe the names of those who have successively
exercised absolute power, under the pretence of liberty, are to
be numbered by the years of the revolution; and each of the new
constitutions, which, under the same pretence, has, in its turn, been
imposed by force on France, every one of which alike was founded upon
principles which professed to be universal, and was intended to be
established and perpetuated among all the nations of the earth--each
of these will be found, upon an average, to have had about two years
as the period of its duration.
Under this revolutionary system, accompanied with this perpetual
fluctuation and change, both in the form of the Government and in
the persons of the rulers, what is the security which has hitherto
existed, and what new security is now offered? Before an answer
is given to this question, let me sum up the history of all the
revolutionary Governments of France, and of their characters in
relation to other Powers, in words more emphatical than any which I
could use--the memorable words pronounced, on the eve of this last
constitution, by the orator[6] who was selected to report to an
assembly, surrounded by a file of grenadiers, the new form of
liberty which it was destined to enjoy under the auspices of General
Buonaparte. From this reporter, the mouth and organ of the new
Government, we learn this important lesson: 'It is easy to conceive
why peace was not concluded before the establishment of the
constitutional Government. The only Government which then existed
described itself as revolutionary; it was, in fact, only the tyranny
of a few men who were soon overthrown by others, and it consequently
presented no stability of principles or of views, no security either
with respect to men, or with respect to things. It should seem that
that stability and that security ought to have existed from the
establishment, and as the effect, of the constitutional system; and
yet they did not exist more, perhaps even less, than they had done
before. In truth, we did make some partial treaties, we signed a
continental peace, and a general congress was held to confirm it; but
these treaties, these diplomatic conferences, appear to have been the
source of a new war, more inveterate and more bloody then before.
Before the 18th Fructidor (September 4) of the 5th year, the French
Government exhibited to foreign nations so uncertain an existence that
they refused to treat with it. After this great event the whole power
was absorbed in the Directory; the legislative body can hardly be
said to have existed; treaties of peace were broken, and war carried
everywhere, without that body having any share in those measures. The
same Directory, after having intimidated all Europe, and destroyed, at
its pleasure, several Governments, neither knowing how to make peace
or war, or how even to establish itself, was overturned by a
breath, on the 13th Prairial (June 18), to make room for other men,
influenced, perhaps, by different views, or who might be governed by
different principles. Judging, then, only from notorious facts, the
French Government must be considered as exhibiting nothing fixed,
neither in respect to men or to things.'
Here, then, is the picture, down to the period of the last revolution,
of the state of France under all its successive Governments!
Having taken a view of what it was, let us now examine what it is. In
the first place, we see, as has been truly stated, a change in the
description and form of the sovereign authority; a supreme power is
placed at the head of this nominal republic, with a more open avowal
of military despotism than at any former period; with a more open and
undisguised abandonment of the names and pretences under which
that despotism long attempted to conceal itself. The different
institutions, republican in their form and appearance, which were
before the instruments of that despotism, are now annihilated; they
have given way to the absolute power of one man, concentrating in
himself all the authority of the State, and differing from other
monarchs only in this, that, as my honourable friend[7] truly stated
it, he wields a sword instead of a sceptre. What, then, is the
confidence we are to derive either from the frame of the Government
or from the character and past conduct of the person who is now
the absolute ruler of France? Had we seen a man, of whom we had no
previous knowledge, suddenly invested with the sovereign authority of
the country; invested with the power of taxation, with the power
of the sword, the power of war and peace, the unlimited power of
commanding the resources, of disposing of the lives and fortunes of
every man in France; if we had seen, at the same moment, all the
inferior machinery of the revolution, which, under the variety of
successive shocks, had kept the system in motion, still remaining
entire, all that, by requisition and plunder, had given activity to
the revolutionary system of finance, and had furnished the means of
creating an army, by converting every man, who was of age to bear
arms, into a soldier, not for the defence of his own country, but for
the sake of carrying unprovoked war into surrounding countries; if we
had seen all the subordinate instruments of Jacobin power subsisting
in their full force, and retaining (to use the French phrase) all
their original organization; and had then observed this single change
in the conduct of their affairs, that there was now one man, with no
rival to thwart his measures, no colleague to divide his powers, no
council to control his operations, no liberty of speaking or writing,
no expression of public opinion to check or influence his conduct;
under such circumstances, should we be wrong to pause, or wait for the
evidence of facts and experience, before we consented to trust our
safety to the forbearance of a single man, in such a situation, and to
relinquish those means of defence which have hitherto carried us safe
through all the storms of the revolution? if we were to ask what are
the principles and character of this stranger, to whom Fortune has
suddenly committed the concerns of a great and powerful nation?
But is this the actual state of the present question? Are we talking
of a stranger of whom we have heard nothing? No, Sir; we have heard
of him; we, and Europe, and the world, have heard both of him and the
satellites by whom he is surrounded; and it is impossible to discuss
fairly the propriety of any answer which could be returned to his
overtures of negotiation, without taking into consideration the
inferences to be drawn from his personal character and conduct. I know
it is the fashion with some gentlemen to represent any reference to
topics of this nature as invidious and irritating; but the truth is,
that they rise unavoidably out of the very nature of the question.
Would it have been possible for Ministers to discharge their duty,
in offering their advice to their Sovereign, either for accepting or
declining negotiation, without taking into their account the reliance
to be placed on the disposition and the principles of the person on
whose disposition and principles the security to be obtained by treaty
must, in the present circumstances, principally depend? or would they
act honestly or candidly towards Parliament and towards the country,
if, having been guided by these considerations, they forbore to state
publicly and distinctly the real grounds which have influenced their
decision; and if, from a false delicacy and groundless timidity, they
purposely declined an examination of a point, the most essential
towards enabling Parliament to form a just determination on so
important a subject?
What opinion, then, are we led to form of the pretensions of the
Consul to those particular qualities which, in the official note, are
represented as affording us, from his personal character, the surest
pledge of peace? We are told this is his _second attempt_ at general
pacification. Let us see, for a moment, how this _second attempt_ has
been conducted. There is, indeed, as the learned gentleman has said, a
word in the first declaration which refers to general peace, and which
states this to be the second time in which the Consul has endeavoured
to accomplish that object. We thought fit, for the reasons which have
been assigned, to decline altogether the proposal of treating, under
the present circumstances; but we, at the same time, expressly stated
that, whenever the moment for treaty should arrive, we would in no
case treat but in conjunction with our allies. Our general refusal
to negotiate at the present moment did not prevent the Consul from
renewing his overtures; but were they renewed for the purpose of
general pacification? Though he had hinted at general peace in the
terms of his first note; though we had shown, by our answer, that
we deemed negotiation, even for general peace, at this moment,
inadmissible; though we added that, even at any future period, we
would treat only in conjunction with our allies; what was the proposal
contained in his last note?--To treat, not for _general peace_, but
for a _separate peace_ between Great Britain and France.
Such was the second attempt to effect _general_ _pacification_: a
proposal for a _separate_ treaty with Great Britain. What had been the
first?--The conclusion of a _separate_ treaty with Austria: and, in
addition to this fact, there are two anecdotes connected with the
conclusion of this treaty which are sufficient to illustrate the
disposition of this pacificator of Europe. This very treaty of Campo
Formio was ostentatiously professed to be concluded with the Emperor,
for the purpose of enabling Buonaparte to take the command of the army
of England, and to dictate a separate peace with this country on
the banks of the Thames. But there is this additional circumstance,
singular beyond all conception, considering that we are now referred
to the Treaty of Campo Formio as a proof of the personal disposition
of the Consul to general peace; he sent his two confidential and
chosen friends, _Berthier_ and _Monge_, charged to communicate to the
Directory this Treaty of Campo Formio; to announce to them that one
enemy was humbled, that the war with Austria was terminated, and,
therefore, that now was the moment to prosecute their operations
against this country; they used, on this occasion, the memorable
words, '_the Kingdom of Great Britain and the French Republic cannot
exist together_.' This, I say, was the solemn declaration of the
deputies and ambassadors of Buonaparte himself, offering to the
Directory the first-fruits of this first attempt at general
pacification.
So much for his disposition towards general pacification: let us look
next at the part he has taken in the different stages of the French
revolution, and let us then judge whether we are to look to him as
the security against revolutionary principles; let us determine what
reliance we can place on his engagements with other countries, when
we see how he has served his engagements to his own. When the
constitution of the third year was established under Barras, that
constitution was imposed by the arms of Buonaparte, then commanding
the army of the Triumvirate in Paris. To that constitution he then
swore fidelity. How often he has repeated the same oath I know not;
but twice, at least, we know that he has not only repeated it himself,
but tendered it to others, under circumstances too striking not to be
stated.
Sir, the House cannot have forgotten the revolution of September 4,
which produced the dismissal of Lord Malmesbury from Lisle. How was
that revolution procured? It was procured chiefly by the promise
of Buonaparte (in the name of his army) decidedly to support the
Directory in those measures which led to the infringement and
violation of everything that the authors of the constitution of 1795,
or its adherents, could consider as fundamental, and which established
a system of despotism inferior only to that now realized in his own
person. Immediately before this event, in the midst of the desolation
and bloodshed of Italy, he had received the sacred present of new
banners from the Directory; he delivered them to his army with this
exhortation: 'Let us swear, fellow soldiers, by the manes of the
patriots who have died by our side, eternal hatred to the enemies of
the constitution of the third year'--that very constitution which he
soon after enabled the Directory to violate, and which, at the head of
his grenadiers, he has now finally destroyed. Sir, that oath was
again renewed, in the midst of that very scene to which I have last
referred; the oath of fidelity to the constitution of the third year
was administered to all the members of the assembly then sitting
(under the terror of the bayonet), as the solemn preparation for the
business of the day; and the morning was ushered in with swearing
attachment to the constitution, that the evening might close with its
destruction.
If we carry our views out of France, and look at the dreadful
catalogue of all the breaches of treaty, all the acts of perfidy at
which I have only glanced, and which are precisely commensurate with
the number of treaties which the Republic have made (for I have sought
in vain for any one which it has made and which it has not broken); if
we trace the history of them all from the beginning of the revolution
to the present time, or if we select those which have been accompanied
by the most atrocious cruelty, and marked the most strongly with the
characteristic features of the revolution, the name of Buonaparte will
be found allied to more of them than that of any other that can be
handed down in the history of the crimes and miseries of the last ten
years. His name will be recorded with the horrors committed in Italy,
in the memorable campaign of 1796 and 1797, in the Milanese, in Genoa,
in Modena, in Tuscany, in Rome, and in Venice.
His entrance into Lombardy was announced by a solemn proclamation,
issued on April 27, 1796, which terminated with these words: 'Nations
of Italy! the French army is come to break your chains; the French
are the friends of the people in every country; your religion, your
property, your customs, shall be respected.' This was followed by
a second proclamation, dated from Milan, May 20, and signed
'Buonaparte', in these terms: 'Respect for property and personal
security, respect for the religion of countries: these are the
sentiments of the Government of the French Republic, and of the army
of Italy. The French, victorious, consider the nations of Lombardy as
their brothers.' In testimony of this fraternity, and to fulfil the
solemn pledge of respecting property, this very proclamation imposed
on the Milanese a provisional contribution to the amount of twenty
millions of livres, or near one million sterling; and successive
exactions were afterwards levied on that single state to the amount,
in the whole, of near six millions sterling. The regard to religion
and to the customs of the country was manifested with the same
scrupulous fidelity. The churches were given up to indiscriminate
plunder. Every religious and charitable fund, every public treasure,
was confiscated. The country was made the scene of every species of
disorder and rapine. The priests, the established form of worship, all
the objects of religious reverence, were openly insulted by the French
troops; at Pavia, particularly, the tomb of St. Augustine, which the
inhabitants were accustomed to view with peculiar veneration, was
mutilated and defaced. This last provocation having roused the
resentment of the people, they flew to arms, surrounded the French
garrison, and took them prisoners, but carefully abstained from
offering any violence to a single soldier. In revenge for this
conduct, Buonaparte, then on his march to the Mincio, suddenly
returned, collected his troops, and carried the extremity of military
execution over the country: he burnt the town of Benasco, and
massacred eight hundred of its inhabitants; he marched to Pavia, took
it by storm, and delivered it over to general plunder, and published,
at the same moment, a proclamation, of May 26, ordering his troops to
shoot all those who had not laid down their arms and taken an oath
of obedience, and to burn every village where the _tocsin_ should be
sounded, and to put its inhabitants to death.
The transactions with Modena were on a smaller scale, but in the same
character. Buonaparte began by signing a treaty, by which the Duke
of Modena was to pay twelve millions of livres, and neutrality was
promised him in return; this was soon followed by the personal arrest
of the Duke, and by a fresh extortion of two hundred thousand sequins;
after this he was permitted, on the payment of a further sum, to sign
another treaty, called a _Convention de Sûereté_, which of course was
only the prelude to the repetition of similar exactions. Nearly at
the same period, in violation of the rights of neutrality, and of the
treaty which had been concluded between the French Republic and the
Grand Duke of Tuscany in the preceding year, and in breach of a
positive promise given only a few days before, the French army
forcibly took possession of Leghorn, for the purpose of seizing the
British property which was deposited there, and confiscating it as
prize; and shortly after, when Buonaparte agreed to evacuate Leghorn
in return for the evacuation of the island of Elba, which was in the
possession of the British troops, he insisted upon a separate
article, by which, in addition to the plunder before obtained, by the
infraction of the law of nations, it was stipulated that the Grand
Duke should pay to the French the expense which they had incurred by
this invasion of his territory.