Life of Napoleon Bonaparte, Volume III.
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Title: Life of Napoleon Bonaparte, Volume III.
Author: Walter Scott
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Most recently updated: October 24, 2024
Language: English
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*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK LIFE OF NAPOLEON BONAPARTE, VOLUME III. ***
LIFE OF NAPOLEON
POCKET EDITION
VOL. III.
LIFE OF
NAPOLEON BONAPARTE
BY SIR WALTER SCOTT, BART.
VOL. 3
[Illustration: Hotel de Ville. Paris]
EDINBURGH: A. & C. BLACK.
1876
CONTENTS.
PAGE
CHAP. XXV.--Increasing Jealousies betwixt France and
England--Encroachments on the part of the former--Instructions given
by the First Consul to his Commercial Agents--Orders issued by the
English Ministers--Peltier's celebrated Royalist Publication,
L'Ambigu--Peltier tried for a Libel against the First Consul--found
Guilty--Angry Discussions respecting the Treaty of
Amiens--Malta--Report of Sebastiani--Resolutions of the British
Government--Conferences betwixt Buonaparte and Lord
Whitworth--Britain declares War against France on 18th May, 1803, 1
CHAP. XXVI.--St. Domingo--The Negroes split into parties under
different Chiefs--Toussaint L'Ouverture the most distinguished of
these--Appoints a Consular Government--France sends an Expedition
against St. Domingo, under General Leclerc, in December,
1801--Toussaint submits--He is sent to France, where he dies--The
French are assaulted by the Negroes--Leclerc is succeeded by
Rochambeau--The French finally obliged to capitulate to an English
squadron--Buonaparte's scheme to consolidate his power--The Consular
Guard augmented--Legion of Honour--Opposition formed against the
Consular Government--Application to the Count de Provence (Louis
XVIII.), 16
CHAP. XXVII.--Renewal of the War--England lays an Embargo on French
Vessels--Napoleon retaliates by detaining British Subjects--Effects
of this unprecedented Measure--Hanover and other places occupied by
the French--Scheme of Invasion renewed--Napoleon's
Preparations--Defensive Measures of England, 27
CHAP. XXVIII.--Disaffection begins to arise against Napoleon among
the Soldiery--Purpose of setting up Moreau against him--Character of
Moreau--Causes of his Estrangement from Buonaparte--Pichegru--The
Duke d'Enghien--Georges Cadoudal, Pichegru, and other Royalists,
landed in France--Desperate Enterprise of Georges--Defeated--Arrest
of Moreau--of Pichegru--and Georges--Captain Wright--Duke d'Enghien
seized at Strasburg--Hurried to Paris--Transferred to
Vincennes--Tried by a Military Commission--Condemned--and
Executed--Universal Horror of France and Europe--Buonaparte's
Vindication of his Conduct--His Defence considered--Pichegru found
dead in his Prison--Attempt to explain his Death by charging him
with Suicide--Captain Wright found with his Throat cut--A similar
Attempt made--Georges and other Conspirators Tried--Condemned--and
Executed--Royalists Silenced--Moreau sent into Exile, 38
CHAP. XXIX.--General Indignation of Europe in consequence of the
Murder of the Duke d'Enghien--Russia complains to Talleyrand of the
Violation of Baden--and, along with Sweden, Remonstrates in a Note
laid before the German Diet--but without effect--Charges brought by
Buonaparte against Mr. Drake and Mr. Spencer Smith--who are
accordingly Dismissed from the Courts of Stuttgard and
Munich--Seizure--Imprisonment--and Dismissal of Sir George Rumbold,
the British Envoy at Lower Saxony--Treachery attempted against Lord
Elgin, by the Agents of Buonaparte--Details--Defeated by the
Exemplary Prudence of that Nobleman--These Charges brought before
the House of Commons--and peremptorily Denied by the Chancellor of
the Exchequer, 57
CHAP. XXX.--Napoleon meditates a change of title from Chief Consul
to Emperor--A Motion to this purpose brought forward in the
Tribunate--Opposed by Carnot--Adopted by the Tribunate and
Senate--Outline of the New System--Coldly received by the
People--Napoleon visits Boulogne, Aix-la-Chapelle, and the Frontiers
of Germany, where he is received with respect--The Coronation--Pius
VII. is summoned from Rome to perform the Ceremony at
Paris--Details--Reflections--Changes that took place in
Italy--Napoleon appointed Sovereign of Italy, and Crowned at
Milan--Genoa annexed to France, 63
CHAP. XXXI.--Napoleon addresses a Second Letter to the King of
England personally--Answered by the British Secretary of State to
Talleyrand--Alliance formed betwixt Russia and England--Prussia
keeps aloof, and the Emperor Alexander visits Berlin--Austria
prepares for War, and marches an Army into Bavaria--Her impolicy in
prematurely commencing Hostilities, and in her Conduct to
Bavaria--Unsoldierlike Conduct of the Austrian General
Mack--Buonaparte is joined by the Electors of Bavaria and
Wirtemberg, and the Duke of Baden--Skilful Manœuvres of the
French Generals, and successive losses of the Austrians--Napoleon
violates the Neutrality of Prussia, by marching through Anspach and
Bareuth--Further Losses of the Austrian Leaders, and consequent
Disunion among them--Mack is cooped up in Ulm--Issues a formidable
Declaration on the 16th October--and surrenders on the following
day--Fatal Results of this Man's Poltroonery, want of Skill, and
probable Treachery, 79
CHAP. XXXII.--Position of the French Armies--Napoleon advances
towards Vienna--The Emperor Francis leaves his Capital--French
enter Vienna on 13th November--Review of the French Successes in
Italy and the Tyrol--Schemes of Napoleon to force on a General
Battle--Battle of Austerlitz is fought on the 2d December, and the
combined Austro-Russian Armies completely Defeated--Interview
betwixt the Emperor of Austria and Napoleon--The Emperor Alexander
retreats towards Russia--Treaty of Presburgh signed on the 26th
December--Its Conditions--Fate of the King of Sweden--and of the Two
Sicilies, 95
CHAP. XXXIII.--Relative situations of France and
England--Hostilities commenced with Spain, by the Stoppage, by
Commodore Moore, of four Spanish Galleons, when three of their
escort were taken, and one blew up--Napoleon's Plan of Invasion
stated and discussed--John Clerk of Eldin's great System of Breaking
the Line, explained--The French Admiral, Villeneuve, forms a
junction with the Spanish Fleet under Gravina--Attacked and Defeated
by Sir Robert Calder--Nelson appointed to the Command in the
Mediterranean--BATTLE OF TRAFALGAR, fought 21st October, 1805--Death
of Nelson--Behaviour of Napoleon on learning the Intelligence of
this signal Defeat--Villeneuve commits Suicide--Address of
Buonaparte to the Legislative Body--Statement of M. de Champagny on
the Internal Improvements of France--Elevation of Napoleon's
Brothers, Louis and Joseph, to the Thrones of Holland and
Naples--Principality of Lucca conferred on Eliza, the eldest Sister
of Buonaparte, and that of Guastalla on Pauline, the youngest--Other
Alliances made by his family--Napoleon appoints a new Hereditary
Nobility--Converts from the old Noblesse anxiously sought for and
liberally rewarded--Confederation of the Rhine established, and
Napoleon appointed Protector--The Emperor of Austria lays aside the
Imperial Crown of Germany, retaining only the Title of Emperor of
Austria--Vacillating and Impolitic Conduct of Prussia, 111
CHAP. XXXIV.--Death of Pitt--He is succeeded by Fox as Prime
Minister--Negotiation with France--The Earl of Lauderdale sent to
Paris as the British Negotiator--Negotiation broken off, in
consequence of the refusal of England to cede Sicily to
France--Temporizing Policy of Prussia--An attempt made by her to
form a Confederacy in opposition to that of the Rhine, defeated by
Napoleon--General Disposition of the Prussians to War--Legal Murder
of Palm, a Bookseller--The Emperor Alexander again visits
Berlin--Prussia begins to arm in August 1806, and after some
Negotiation, takes the field in October, under the Duke of
Brunswick--Impolicy of the Plans of the Campaign--Details--Action at
Saalfeld--Battle of Auerstadt, or Jena, on 14th October--Duke of
Brunswick mortally wounded--Consequences of this total
Defeat--Buonaparte takes possession of Berlin on the
25th--Situations of Austria and Prussia, after their several
Defeats--Reflections on the fall of Prussia, 137
CHAP. XXXV.--Ungenerous Conduct of Buonaparte to the Duke of
Brunswick--The approach of the French Troops to Brunswick compels
the dying Prince to cause himself to be carried to Altona, where he
expires--Oath of revenge taken by his son--At Potsdam and Berlin,
the proceedings of Napoleon are equally cruel and vindictive--His
Clemency towards the Prince of Hatzfeld--His Treatment of the
Lesser Powers--Jerome Buonaparte--Seizure of Hamburgh--Berlin
Decrees against British Commerce--Napoleon rejects all Application
from the Continental Commercial Towns to Relax or Repeal
them--Commerce, nevertheless, flourishes in spite of them--Second
anticipation called for of the Conscription for 1807--The King of
Prussia applies for an Armistice, which is clogged with such harsh
Terms, that he refuses them, 162
CHAP. XXXVI.--Retrospect of the Partition of Poland--Napoleon
receives Addresses from Poland, which he evades--He advances into
Poland, Bennigsen Retreating before him--Character of the Russian
Soldiery--The Cossacks--Engagement at Pultusk, on 26th November,
terminating to the disadvantage of the French--Bennigsen continues
his Retreat--The French go into Winter Quarters--Bennigsen appointed
Commander-in-chief in the place of Kaminskoy, who shows symptoms of
Insanity--He resumes Offensive Operations--Battle of Eylau, 8th
February, 1807--Claimed as a Victory by both Parties--The loss on
both sides amounts to 50,000 men killed, the greater part
Frenchmen--Bennigsen Retreats upon Königsberg--Napoleon offers
favourable terms for an Armistice to the King of Prussia, who
refuses to Treat, save for a General Peace--Napoleon falls back to
the line of the Vistula--Dantzick is besieged, and
Surrenders--Russian Army is poorly recruited--the French
powerfully--Actions during the Summer--Battle of Heilsberg, and
Retreat of the Russians--Battle of Friedland, 14th June--An
Armistice takes place on the 23d, 174
CHAP. XXXVII.--British Expedition to Calabria, under Sir John
Stuart--Character of the People--Opposed by General Reynier--Battle
of Maida, 4th July, 1806--Defeat of the French--Calabria evacuated
by the British--Erroneous Commercial Views, and Military Plans, of
the British Ministry--Unsuccessful Attack on Buenos Ayres--General
Whitelocke--is Cashiered--Expedition against Turkey, and its
Dependencies--Admiral Duckworth's Squadron sent against
Constantinople--Passes and repasses the Dardanelles, without
accomplishing anything--Expedition against Alexandria--Rosetta
attacked--British Troops defeated, and withdrawn from Egypt,
September, 1807--Curaçoa and Cape of Good Hope taken, by
England--British Expedition against Copenhagen--its Citadel, Forts,
and Fleet, surrendered to the British--Effects of this proceeding
upon France and Russia--Coalition of France, Russia, Austria, and
Prussia, against British Commerce, 206
CHAP. XXXVIII.--View of the Internal Government of Napoleon at the
period of the Peace of Tilsit--The Tribunate abolished--Council of
State--Prefectures--Their nature and object described--The Code
Napoleon--Its Provisions--Its Merits and Defects--Comparison betwixt
that Code and the Jurisprudence of England--Laudable efforts of
Napoleon to carry it into effect, 218
CHAP. XXXIX.--System of Education introduced into France by
Napoleon--National University--its nature and
objects--Lyceums--Proposed Establishment at Meudon, 249
CHAP. XL.--Military Details--Plan of the Conscription--Its
Nature--and Effects--Enforced with unsparing rigour--Its Influence
upon the General Character of the French Soldiery--New mode of
Conducting Hostilities introduced by the Revolution--Constitution of
the French Armies, Forced Marches--_La Maraude_--Its Nature--and
Effects--on the Enemy's Country, and on the French Soldiers
themselves--Policy of Napoleon, in his Personal Conduct to his
Officers and Soldiers--Altered Character of the French Soldiery
during, and after, the Revolution, 252
CHAP. XLI.--Effects of the Peace of Tilsit--Napoleon's Views of a
State of Peace--Contrasted with those of England--The Continental
System--Berlin and Milan Decrees--British Orders in
Council--Spain--Retrospect of the Relations of that Country with
France since the Revolution--Godoy--his Influence--Character--and
Political Views--Ferdinand, Prince of Asturias, applies to Napoleon
for Aid--Affairs of Portugal--Treaty of Fontainbleau--Departure of
the Prince Regent for Brazil--Entrance of Junot into Lisbon--His
unbounded rapacity--Disturbances at Madrid--Ferdinand detected in a
Plot against his Father, and Imprisoned--King Charles applies to
Napoleon--Wily Policy of Buonaparte--Orders the French Army to enter
Spain, 259
CHAP. XLII.--Pampeluna, Barcelona, Montjouy, and St. Sebastians, are
fraudulently seized by the French--King Charles proposes to sail for
South America--Insurrection at Aranjuez--Charles resigns the Crown
in favour of Ferdinand--Murat enters Madrid--Charles disavows his
Resignation--General Savary arrives at Madrid--Napoleon's Letter to
Murat, touching the Invasion of Spain--Ferdinand sets out to meet
Napoleon--Halts at Vittoria, and learns too late Napoleon's designs
against him--Joins Buonaparte at Bayonne--Napoleon opens his designs
to Escoiquiz and Cevallos, both of whom he finds intractable--He
sends for Charles, his Queen, and Godoy, to Bayonne--Ferdinand is
induced to Abdicate the Crown in favour of his Father, who resigns
it next day to Napoleon--This transfer is reluctantly confirmed by
Ferdinand, who, with his Brothers, is sent to splendid Imprisonment
at Valençay--Joseph Buonaparte is appointed to the Throne of Spain,
and joins Napoleon at Bayonne--Assembly of Notables convoked, 272
CHAP. XLIII.--State of Morals and Manners in Spain--The
Nobility--The Middle Classes--The Lower Ranks--The indignation of
the People strongly excited against the French--Insurrection at
Madrid on the 2d May--Murat proclaims an Amnesty, notwithstanding
which, many Spanish prisoners are put to Death--King Charles
appoints Murat Lieutenant-General of the Kingdom, and Ferdinand's
Resignation of the Throne is announced--Murat unfolds the Plan of
Government to the Council of Castile, and Addresses of Submission
are sent to Buonaparte from various quarters--Notables appointed to
meet at Bayonne on 15th June--The Flame of Resistance becomes
Universal throughout Spain, 289
CHAP. XLIV.--Plans of Defence of the Spanish Juntas--Defeated by the
ardour of the Insurrectionary Armies--Cruelty of the French Troops,
and Inveteracy of the Spaniards--Successes of the Invaders--Defeat
of Rio Secco--Exultation of Napoleon--Joseph enters Madrid--His
Reception--Duhesme compelled to Retreat to Barcelona, and Moncey
from before Valencia--Defeat of Dupont by Castanos at Baylen--His
Army Surrenders Prisoners of War--Effects of this Victory and
Capitulation--Unreasonable Expectations of the British
Public--Joseph leaves Madrid, and Retires to Vittoria--Defence of
Zaragossa, 299
CHAP. XLV.--Zeal of Britain with regard to the Spanish struggle--It
is Resolved to send an Expedition to Portugal--Retrospect of what
had passed in that Country--Portuguese Assembly of Notables summoned
to Bayonne--Their Singular Audience of Buonaparte--Effects of the
Spanish Success on Portugal--Sir Arthur Wellesley--His Character as
a General--Despatched at the Head of the Expedition to
Portugal--Attacks and Defeats the French at Roriça--Battle and
Victory of Vimeiro--Sir Harry Burrard Neale assumes the Command, and
frustrates the Results proposed by Sir Arthur Wellesley from the
Battle--Sir Harry Burrard is superseded by Sir Hew
Dalrymple--Convention of Cintra--Its Unpopularity in England--A
Court of Inquiry is held, 310
CHAP. XLVI.--Duplicity of Buonaparte on his return to
Paris--Official Statements in the Moniteur--Reports issued by
Champagny, Minister of the Foreign Department--French Relations with
the different Powers of Europe--Spirit of Resistance throughout
Germany--Russia--Napoleon and Alexander meet at Erfurt on 27th
September, and separate in apparent Friendship on 17th
October--Actual feelings of the Autocrats--Their joint Letter to the
King of Great Britain proposing a General Peace on the Principle of
_uti possidetis_--Why rejected--Procedure in
Spain--Catalonia--Return of Romana to Spain--Armies of Blake,
Castanos, and Palafox--Expedition of General Moore--His desponding
Views of the Spanish Cause--His Plans--Defeat of Blake--and
Castanos--Treachery of Morla--Sir John Moore Retreats to
Corunna--Disasters on the March--Battle of Corunna, and Death of Sir
John Moore, 322
CHAP. XLVII.--General Belliard occupies Madrid--Napoleon returns to
France--Cause of his hurried Return--View of the Circumstances
leading to a Rupture with Austria--Feelings of Russia upon this
occasion--Secret intrigues of Talleyrand to preserve Peace--Immense
exertions made by Austria--Counter efforts of Buonaparte--The
Austrian army enters Bavaria, 9th April, 1809--Napoleon hastens to
meet them--Austrians defeated at Abensberg on the 20th--and at
Eckmühl on the 22d--They are driven out of Ratisbon on the 23d--The
Archduke Charles Retreats into Bohemia--Napoleon pushes forward to
Vienna, which, after a brief Defence, is occupied by the French on
the 12th of May--Retrospect of the events of the War in Poland,
Italy, the North of Germany, and the Tyrol--Enterprises of
Schill--Of the Duke of Brunswick Oels--Movements in the
Tyrol--Character and Manners of the Tyrolese--Retreat of the
Archduke John into Hungary, 343
CHAP. XLVIII.--Position of the French and Austrian Armies after the
Battle of Eckmühl--Napoleon crosses the Danube--Great Conflict at
Asperne, when victory was claimed by both Parties--Battle of
Wagram, fought 6th July--Armistice concluded at Znaim--Close of the
Career of Schill and the Duke of Brunswick Oels--Defence of the
Tyrol--Its final unfortunate Result--Growing Resistance throughout
Germany--Its effects on Buonaparte--He Publishes a singular
Manifesto in the Moniteur, 360
APPENDIX--
NO. I.--Instructions by Napoleon to Talleyrand, Prince of
Beneventum, 377
NO. II.--Further Particulars concerning the Arrest, Trial, and Death
of the Duke d'Enghien, 378
[Illustration: CENTRAL AND SOUTH GERMANY,
TO ILLUSTRATE THE CAMPAIGNS OF NAPOLEON BONAPARTE]
CHAPTER XXV.
_Increasing Jealousies betwixt France and England--Encroachments on
the part of the former--Instructions given by the First Consul to
his Commercial Agents--Orders issued by the English
Ministers--Peltier's celebrated Royalist Publication,
L'Ambigu--Peltier tried for a Libel against the First Consul--found
Guilty--Angry Discussions respecting the Treaty of
Amiens--Malta--Report of Sebastiani--Resolution of the British
Government--Conferences betwixt Buonaparte and Lord
Whitworth--Britain declares War against France on 18th May, 1803._
These advances towards universal empire, made during the very period
when the pacific measures adopted by the preliminaries, and afterwards
confirmed by the treaty of Amiens, were in the act of being carried into
execution, excited the natural jealousy of the people of Britain. They
had not been accustomed to rely much on the sincerity of the French
nation; nor did the character of its present chief, so full of ambition,
and so bold and successful in his enterprises, incline them to feelings
of greater security. On the other hand, Buonaparte seems to have felt as
matter of personal offence the jealousy which the British entertained;
and instead of soothing it, as policy dictated, by concessions and
confidence, he showed a disposition to repress, or at least to punish
it, by measures which indicated anger and irritation. There ceased to be
any cordiality of intercourse betwixt the two nations, and they began to
look into the conduct of each other for causes of offence, rather than
for the means of removing it.
The English had several subjects of complaint against France, besides
the general encroachments which she had continued to make on the
liberties of Europe. A law had been made during the times of the wildest
Jacobinism, which condemned to forfeiture every vessel under a hundred
tons burden, carrying British merchandise, and approaching within four
leagues of France. It was now thought proper, that the enforcing a
regulation of so hostile a character, made during a war of unexampled
bitterness, should be the first fruits of returning peace. Several
British vessels were stopped, their captains imprisoned, their cargoes
confiscated, and all restitution refused. Some of these had been driven
on the French coast unwillingly, and by stress of weather; but the
necessity of the case created no exemption. An instance there was of a
British vessel in ballast, which entered Charente, in order to load with
a cargo of brandy. The plates, knives, forks, &c., used by the captain,
being found to be of British manufacture, the circumstance was thought a
sufficient apology for seizing the vessel. These aggressions, repeatedly
made, were not, so far as appears, remedied on the most urgent
remonstrances, and seemed to argue that the French were already acting
on the vexatious and irritating principle which often precedes a war,
but very seldom immediately follows a peace. The conduct of France was
felt to be the more unreasonable and ungracious, as all restrictions on
her commerce, imposed during the war, had been withdrawn on the part of
Great Britain, so soon as the peace was concluded. In like manner, a
stipulation of the treaty of Amiens, providing that all sequestrations
imposed on the property of French or of English, in the two contending
countries, should be removed, was instantly complied with in Britain,
but postponed and dallied with on the part of France.
[Sidenote: COMMERCIAL AGENTS.]
The above were vexatious and offensive measures, intimating little
respect for the Government of England, and no desire to cultivate her
good will. They were perhaps adopted by the chief consul, in hopes of
inducing Britain to make some sacrifices in order to obtain from his
favour a commercial treaty, the advantages of which, according to his
opinion of the English nation, was a boon calculated to make them
quickly forgive the humiliating restrictions from which it would
emancipate their trade. If this were any part of his policy, he was
ignorant of the nature of the people to whom it was applied. It is the
sluggish ox alone that is governed by a goad. But what gave the deepest
offence and most lively alarm to Britain, was, that while Buonaparte
declined affording the ordinary facilities for English commerce, it was
his purpose, nevertheless, to establish a commercial agent in every part
of the British dominions, whose ostensible duty was to watch over that
very trade which the first consul showed so little desire to encourage,
but whose real business resembled that of an accredited and privileged
spy. These official persons were not only, by their instructions,
directed to collect every possible information on commercial points, but
also to furnish a plan of the ports of each district, with all the
soundings, and to point out with what wind vessels could go out and
enter with most ease, and at what draught of water the harbour might be
entered by ships of burden. To add to the alarming character of such a
set of agents, it was found that those invested with the office were
military men and engineers.
Consuls thus nominated had reached Britain, but had not, in general,
occupied the posts assigned to them, when the British Government,
becoming informed of the duties they were expected to perform, announced
to them, that any one who might repair to a British seaport under such a
character, should be instantly ordered to quit the island. The secrecy
with which these agents had been instructed to conduct themselves was so
great, that one Fauvelet, to whom the office of commercial agent at
Dublin had been assigned, and who had reached the place of his
destination before the nature of the appointment was discovered, could
not be found out by some persons who desired to make an affidavit before
him as consul of France. It can be no wonder that the very worst
impression was made on the public mind of Britain respecting the further
projects of her late enemies, when it was evident that they availed
themselves of the first moments of returning peace to procure, by an
indirect and most suspicious course of proceeding, that species of
information, which would be most useful to France, and most dangerous to
Britain, in the event of a renewed war.
While these grievances and circumstances of suspicion agitated the
English nation, the daily press, which alternately acts upon public
opinion, and is reacted upon by it, was loud and vehement. The personal
character of the chief consul was severely treated; his measures of
self-aggrandisement arraigned, his aggressions on the liberty of France,
of Italy, and especially of Switzerland, held up to open day; while
every instance of petty vexation and oppression practised upon British
commerce or British subjects, was quoted as expressing his deep
resentment against the only country which possessed the will and the
power to counteract his acquiring the universal dominion of Europe.
There was at this period in Britain a large party of French Royalists,
who, declining to return to France, or falling under the exceptions to
the amnesty, regarded Buonaparte as their personal enemy, as well as the
main obstacle to the restoration of the Bourbons, to which, but for him
only, the people of France seemed otherwise more disposed than at any
time since the commencement of the Revolution. These gentlemen found an
able and active advocate of their cause in Monsieur Peltier, an
emigrant, a determined royalist, and a man of that ready wit and
vivacity of talent which is peculiarly calculated for periodical
writing. He had opposed the democrats during the early days of the
Revolution, by a publication termed the "Acts of the Apostles;"[1] in
which he held up to ridicule and execration the actions, pretensions,
and principles of their leaders, with such success as induced Brissot to
assert, that he had done more harm to the Republican cause than all the
allied armies. At the present crisis, he commenced the publication of a
weekly paper in London, in the French language, called _L'Ambigu_. The
decoration at the top of the sheet was a head of Buonaparte, placed on
the body of a Sphinx. This ornament being objected to after the first
two or three numbers, the Sphinx appeared with the neck truncated; but,
being still decked with the consular emblems, continued to intimate
emblematically the allusion at once to Egypt, and to the ambiguous
character of the first consul. The columns of this paper were dedicated
to the most severe attacks upon Buonaparte and the French Government;
and as it was highly popular, from the general feelings of the English
nation towards both, it was widely dispersed and generally read.
The torrent of satire and abuse poured forth from the English and
Anglo-Gallican periodical press, was calculated deeply to annoy and
irritate the person against whom it was chiefly aimed. In England we are
so much accustomed to see characters the most unimpeachable, nay, the
most venerable, assailed by the daily press, that we account the
individual guilty of folly, who, if he be innocent of giving cause for
the scandal, takes it to heart more than a passenger would mind the
barking of a dog, that yelps at every passing sound. But this is a
sentiment acquired partly by habit, partly by our knowledge, that
unsubstantiated scandal of this sort makes no impression on the public
mind. Such indifference cannot be expected on the part of foreigners,
who, in this particular, resemble horses introduced from neighbouring
counties into the precincts of forest districts, where they are liable
to be stung into madness by a peculiar species of gadfly, to which the
race bred in the country are from habit almost totally indifferent.
If it be thus with foreigners in general, it must be supposed that from
natural impatience of censure, as well as rendered susceptible and
irritable by his course of uninterrupted success, Napoleon Buonaparte
must have winced under the animated and sustained attacks upon his
person and government, which appeared in the English newspapers, and
Peltier's _Ambigu_. He attached at all times, as we have already had
occasion to remark, much importance to the influence of the press, which
in Paris he had taken under his own especial superintendence, and for
which he himself often condescended to compose or correct paragraphs. To
be assailed, therefore, by the whole body of British newspapers, almost
as numerous as their navy, seems to have provoked him to the extremity
of his patience; and resentment of these attacks aggravated the same
hostile sentiments against England, which, from causes of suspicion
already mentioned, had begun to be engendered in the British public
against France and her ruler.
Napoleon, in the meantime, endeavoured to answer in kind, and the
columns of the _Moniteur_ had many an angry and violent passage directed
against England.[2] Answers, replies, and rejoinders passed rapidly
across the Channel, inflaming and augmenting the hostile spirit,
reciprocally entertained by the two countries against each other. But
there was this great disadvantage on Buonaparte's side, that while the
English might justly throw the blame of this scandalous warfare on the
license of a free press, the chief consul could not transfer the
responsibility of the attack on his side; because it was universally
known that the French periodical publications being under the most
severe regulations, nothing could appear in them except what had
received the previous sanction of the government. Every attack upon
England, therefore, which was published in the French papers, was held
to express the personal sentiments of the chief consul, who thus, by
destroying the freedom of the French press, had rendered himself
answerable for every such license as it was permitted to take.
[Sidenote: NOTE BY M. OTTO.]
[Sidenote: July 25.]
It became speedily plain, that Buonaparte could reap no advantage from a
contest in which he was to be the defendant in his own person, and to
maintain a literary warfare with anonymous antagonists. He had recourse,
therefore, to a demand upon the British Government, and after various
representations of milder import, caused his envoy, Monsieur Otto, to
state in an official note the following distinct grievances:--First, the
existence of a deep and continued system to injure the character of the
first consul, and prejudice the effect of his public measures, through
the medium of the press: Secondly, the permission of a part of the
Princes of the House of Bourbon, and their adherents, to remain in
England for the purpose, (it was alleged,) that they might hatch and
encourage schemes against the life and government of the chief consul.
It was therefore categorically demanded, 1st, That the British
Government do put a stop to the publication of the abuse complained of,
as affecting the head of the French Government. 2d, That the emigrants
residing in Jersey be dismissed from England--that the bishops who had
declined to resign their sees be also sent out of the country--that
George Cadoudal be transported to Canada--that the Princes of the House
of Bourbon be advised to repair to Warsaw, where the head of their
family now resided--and, finally, that such emigrants who continued to
wear the ancient badges and decorations of the French court, be also
compelled to leave England. Lest the British ministers should plead,
that the constitution of their country precluded them from gratifying
the first consul in any of these demands, Monsieur Otto forestalled the
objection, by reminding them that the Alien Act gave them full power to
exclude any foreigners from Great Britain at their pleasure.[3]
To this peremptory mandate, Lord Hawkesbury,[4] then minister for
foreign affairs, instructed the British agent, Mr. Merry, to make a
reply, at once firm and conciliatory; avoiding the tone of pique and ill
temper which is plainly to be traced in the French note, yet maintaining
the dignity of the nation he represented. It was observed, that, if the
French Government had reason to complain of the license of the English
journals, the British Government had no less right to be dissatisfied
with the retorts and recriminations which had been poured out from those
of Paris; and that there was this remarkable feature of difference
betwixt them, that the English Ministry neither had, could have, nor
wished to have, any control over the freedom of the British press;
whereas the _Moniteur_, in which the abuse of England had appeared, was
the official organ of the French Government. But, finally, upon this
point, the British Monarch, it was said, would make no concession to any
foreign power, at the expense of the freedom of the press.[5] If what
was published was libellous or actionable, the printers and publishers
were open to punishment, and all reasonable facilities would be afforded
for prosecuting them. To the demands so peremptorily urged, respecting
the emigrants, Lord Hawkesbury replied, by special answers applying to
the different classes, but summed up in the general argument, that his
Majesty neither encouraged them in any scheme against the French
Government, nor did he believe there were any such in existence; and
that while these unfortunate princes and their followers lived in
conformity to the laws of Great Britain, and without affording nations
with whom she was at peace any valid or sufficient cause of complaint,
his Majesty would feel it inconsistent with his dignity, his honour, and
the common laws of hospitality, to deprive them of that protection,
which individuals resident within the British dominions could only
forfeit by their own misconduct.[6]
[Sidenote: TRIAL OF PELTIER.]
To render these answers, being the only reply which an English Minister
could have made to the demands of France, in some degree acceptable to
Buonaparte, Peltier was brought to trial[7] for a libel against the
first consul, at the instance of the Attorney-General. He was defended
by Mr. Mackintosh, (now Sir James,)[8] in one of the most brilliant
speeches ever made at bar or in forum, in which the jury were reminded,
that every press on the continent was enslaved, from Palermo to
Hamburgh, and that they were now to vindicate the right we had ever
asserted, to speak of men both at home and abroad, not according to
their greatness, but their crimes.
The defendant was found guilty; but his cause might be considered as
triumphant.[9] Accordingly, every part of the proceedings gave offence
to Buonaparte. He had not desired to be righted by the English law, but
by a vigour beyond the law. The publicity of the trial, the wit and
eloquence of the advocate, were ill calculated to soothe the feelings of
Buonaparte, who knew human nature, and the character of his usurped
power, too well, to suppose that public discussion could be of service
to him.[10] He had demanded darkness, the English Government had
answered by giving him light; he had wished, like those who are
conscious of flaws in their conduct, to suppress all censure of his
measures, and by Peltier's trial, the British ministers had made the
investigation of them a point of legal necessity. The first consul felt
the consciousness that he himself, rather than Peltier,[11] was tried
before the British public, with a publicity which could not fail to
blaze abroad the discussion. Far from conceiving himself obliged by the
species of atonement which had been offered him, he deemed the offence
of the original publication was greatly aggravated, and placed it now
directly to the account of the English ministers, of whom he could never
be made to understand, that they had afforded him the only remedy in
their power.
The paragraphs hostile to England in the _Moniteur_ were continued; an
English paper called the _Argus_, conducted by Irish refugees, was
printed at Paris, under permission of the Government, for the purpose
of assailing Britain with additional abuse, while the fire was returned
from the English side of the Channel, with double vehemence and tenfold
success. These were ominous precursors to a state of peace, and more
grounds of misunderstanding were daily added.
The new discussions related chiefly to the execution of the treaty of
Amiens, in which the English Government showed no promptitude. Most of
the French colonies, it is true, had been restored; but the Cape, and
the other Batavian settlements, above all, the island of Malta, were
still possessed by the British forces. At common law, if the expression
may be used, England was bound instantly to redeem her engagement, by
ceding these possessions, and thus fulfilling the articles of the
treaty. In equity, she had a good defence; since in policy for herself
and Europe, she was bound to decline the cession at all risks.
The recent acquisitions of France on the continent, afforded the plea of
equity to which we have alluded. It was founded on the principle adopted
at the treaty of Amiens, that Great Britain should, out of her conquests
over the enemy's foreign settlements, retain so much as to
counterbalance, in some measure, the power which France had acquired in
Europe. This principle being once established, it followed that the
compact at Amiens had reference to the then existing state of things;
and since, after that period, France had extended her sway over Italy
and Piedmont, England became thereby entitled to retain an additional
compensation, in consequence of France's additional acquisitions. This
was the true and simple position of the case; France had innovated upon
the state of things which existed when the treaty was made, and England
might, therefore, in justice, claim an equitable right to innovate upon
the treaty itself, by refusing to make surrender of what had been
promised in other and very different circumstances. Perhaps it had been
better to fix upon this obvious principle, as the ground of declining to
surrender such British conquests as were not yet given up, unless France
consented to relinquish the power which she had usurped upon the
continent. This, however, would have produced instant war; and the
Ministers were naturally loth to abandon the prospect of prolonging the
peace which had been so lately established, or to draw their pen through
the treaty of Amiens, while the ink with which it was written was still
moist. They yielded, therefore, in a great measure. The Cape of Good
Hope and the Dutch colonies were restored, Alexandria was evacuated, and
the Ministers confined their discussions with France to the island of
Malta only; and, condescending still farther, declared themselves ready
to concede even this last point of discussion, providing a sufficient
guarantee should be obtained for this important citadel of the
Mediterranean being retained in neutral hands. The Order itself was in
no respect adequate to the purpose; and as to the proposed Neapolitan
garrison, (none of the most trustworthy in any case,) France, by her
encroachments in Italy, had become so near and so formidable a neighbour
to the King of Naples, that, by a threat of invasion of his capital, she
might have compelled him to deliver up Malta upon a very brief notice.
All this was urged on the part of Britain. The French Ministry, on the
other hand, pressed for literal execution of the treaty. After some
diplomatic evasions had been resorted to, it appeared as if the cession
could be no longer deferred, when a publication appeared in the
_Moniteur_ [Jan. 30, 1803] which roused to a high pitch the suspicions
as well as the indignation of the British nation.
[Sidenote: SEBASTIANI'S REPORT.]
The publication alluded to was a report of General Sebastiani. This
officer had been sent as the emissary of the first consul, to various
Mahommedan courts in Asia and Africa, in all of which it seems to have
been his object, not only to exalt the greatness of his master, but to
misrepresent and degrade the character of England. He had visited Egypt,
of which, with its fortresses, and the troops that defended them, he had
made a complete survey. He then waited upon Djezzar Pacha, and gives a
flattering account of his reception, and of the high esteem in which
Djezzar held the first consul, whom he had so many reasons for wishing
well to. At the Ionian Islands, he harangued the natives, and assured
them of the protection of Buonaparte. The whole report is full of the
most hostile expressions towards England, and accuses General Stuart of
having encouraged the Turks to assassinate the writer. Wherever
Sebastiani went, he states himself to have interfered in the factions
and quarrels of the country; he inquired into its forces; renewed old
intimacies, or made new ones with leading persons; enhanced his master's
power, and was liberal in promises of French aid. He concludes, that a
French army of six thousand men would be sufficient to conquer Egypt,
and that the Ionian Islands were altogether attached to the French
interest.[12]
The publication of this report, which seemed as if Buonaparte were
blazoning forth to the world his unaltered determination to persist in
his Eastern projects of colonization and conquest, would have rendered
it an act of treason in the English Ministers, if, by the cession of
Malta, they had put into his hand, or at least placed within his grasp,
the readiest means of carrying into execution those gigantic schemes of
ambition, which had for their ultimate, perhaps their most desired
object, the destruction of the Indian commerce of Britain.
As it were by way of corollary to the gasconading journal of Sebastiani,
an elaborate account of the forces, and natural advantages of France,
was published at the same period, which, in order that there might be no
doubt concerning the purpose of its appearance at this crisis, was
summed up by the express conclusion, "that Britain was unable to contend
with France single-handed."[13] This tone of defiance, officially
adopted at such a moment, added not a little to the resentment of the
English nation, not accustomed to decline a challenge or endure an
insult.
The Court of Britain on the appearance of this Report on the State of
France, together with that of Sebastiani, drawn up and subscribed by an
official agent, containing insinuations totally void of foundation, and
disclosing intrigues inconsistent with the preservation of peace, and
the objects for which peace had been made, declared that the King would
enter into no farther discussion on the subject of Malta, until his
Majesty had received the most ample satisfaction for this new and
singular aggression.[14]
While things were thus rapidly approaching to a rupture, the chief
consul adopted the unusual resolution, of himself entering personally
into conference with the British ambassador. He probably took this
determination upon the same grounds which dictated his contempt of
customary forms, in entering, or attempting to enter, into direct
correspondence with the princes whom he had occasion to treat with. Such
a deviation from the established mode of procedure seemed to mark his
elevation above ordinary rules, and would afford him, he might think, an
opportunity of bearing down the British ambassador's reasoning, by
exhibiting one of those bursts of passion, to which he had been
accustomed to see most men give way.
It would have been more prudent in Napoleon, to have left the conduct of
the negotiation to Talleyrand.[15] A sovereign cannot enter in person
upon such conferences, unless with the previous determination of
adhering precisely and finally to whatever ultimatum he has to propose.
He cannot, without a compromise of dignity, chaffer or capitulate, or
even argue, and of course is incapable of wielding any of the usual, and
almost indispensable weapons of negotiators. If it was Napoleon's
expectation, by one stunning and emphatic declaration of his pleasure,
to beat down all arguments, and confound all opposition, he would have
done wisely to remember, that he was not now, as in other cases, a
general upon a victorious field of battle, dictating terms to a defeated
enemy; but was treating upon a footing of equality with Britain, the
mistress of the seas, possessing strength as formidable as his own,
though of a different character, and whose prince and people were far
more likely to be incensed than intimidated by any menaces which his
passion might throw out.
[Sidenote: LORD WHITWORTH.]
The character of the English ambassador was as unfavourable for the
chief consul's probable purpose, as that of the nation he represented.
Lord Whitworth was possessed of great experience and sagacity.[16] His
integrity and honour were undoubted; and, with the highest degree of
courage, he had a calm and collected disposition, admirably calculated
to give him the advantage in any discussion with an antagonist of a
fiery, impatient, and over-bearing temper.
We will make no apology for dwelling at unusual length on the
conferences betwixt the first consul and Lord Whitworth, as they are
strikingly illustrative of the character of Buonaparte, and were, in
their consequences, decisive of his fate, and that of the world.
Their first interview of a political nature took place in the Tuileries,
17th February, 1803. Buonaparte, having announced that this meeting was
for the purpose of "making his sentiments known to the King of England
in a clear and authentic manner," proceeded to talk incessantly for the
space of nearly two hours, not without considerable incoherence, his
temper rising as he dwelt on the alleged causes of complaint which he
preferred against England, though not so much or so incautiously as to
make him drop the usual tone of courtesy to the ambassador.
He complained of the delay of the British in evacuating Alexandria and
Malta; cutting short all discussion on the latter subject, by declaring
he would as soon agree to Britain's possessing the suburb of St. Antoine
as that island. He then referred to the abuse thrown upon him by the
English papers, but more especially by those French journals published
in London. He affirmed that Georges and other Chouan chiefs, whom he
accused of designs against his life, received relief or shelter in
England; and that two assassins had been apprehended in Normandy, sent
over by the French emigrants to murder him. This, he said, would be
publicly proved in a court of justice. From this point he diverged to
Egypt, of which he affirmed he could make himself master whenever he had
a mind; but that he considered it too paltry a stake to renew the war
for. Yet, while on this subject, he suffered it to escape him, that the
idea of recovering this favourite colony was only postponed, not
abandoned. "Egypt," he said, "must sooner or later belong to France,
either by the falling to pieces of the Turkish government, or in
consequence of some agreement with the Porte."[17] In evidence of his
peaceable intentions, he asked, what he should gain by going to war,
since he had no means of acting offensively against England, except by
a descent, of which he acknowledged the hazard in the strongest terms.
The chances, he said, were a hundred to one against him; and yet he
declared that the attempt should be made if he were now obliged to go to
war. He extolled the power of both countries. The army of France, he
said, should be soon recruited to four hundred and eighty thousand men;
and the fleets of England were such as he could not propose to match
within the space of ten years at least. United, the two countries might
govern the world, would they but understand each other. Had he found, he
said, the least cordiality on the part of England, she should have had
indemnities assigned her upon the continent, treaties of commerce, all
that she could wish or desire. But he confessed that his irritation
increased daily, "since every gale that blew from England, brought
nothing but enmity and hatred against him."
He then made an excursive digression, in which, taking a review of the
nations of Europe, he contended that England could hope for assistance
from none of them in a war with France. In the total result, he demanded
the instant implement of the treaty of Amiens, and the suppression of
the abuse in the English papers. War was the alternative.
During this excursive piece of declamation, which the first consul
delivered with great rapidity, Lord Whitworth, notwithstanding the
interview lasted two hours, had scarcely time to slide in a few words in
reply or explanation. As he endeavoured to state the new grounds of
mistrust which induced the King of England to demand more advantageous
terms, in consequence of the accession of territory and influence which
France had lately made, Napoleon interrupted him--"I suppose you mean
Piedmont and Switzerland--they are trifling occurrences, which must have
been foreseen while the negotiation was in dependence. You have no right
to recur to them at this time of day." To the hint of indemnities which
might be allotted to England out of the general spoil of Europe, if she
would cultivate the friendship of Buonaparte, Lord Whitworth nobly
answered, that the King of Britain's ambition led him to preserve what
was his, not to acquire that which belonged to others. They parted with
civility, but with a conviction on Lord Whitworth's part, that
Buonaparte would never resign his claim to the possession of Malta.[18]
[Sidenote: March 8.]
The British Ministry were of the same opinion; for a Message was sent
down by his Majesty to the House of Commons, stating, that he had
occasion for additional aid to enable him to defend his dominions, in
case of an encroachment on the part of France. A reason was given,
which injured the cause of the Ministers, by placing the vindication of
their measures upon simulated grounds;--it was stated, that these
apprehensions arose from "military preparations carrying on in the ports
of France and Holland."[19] No such preparations had been complained of
during the intercourse between the ministers of France and England,--in
truth, none such existed to any considerable extent,--and in so far, the
British ministers gave the advantage to the French, by not resting the
cause of their country on the just and true grounds. All, however, were
sensible of the real merits of the dispute, which were grounded on the
grasping and inordinate ambition of the French ruler, and the sentiments
of dislike and irritation with which he seemed to regard Great Britain.
The charge of the pretended naval preparations being triumphantly
refuted by France, Talleyrand was next employed to place before Lord
Whitworth the means which, in case of a rupture, France possessed of
wounding England, not directly indeed, but through the sides of those
states of Europe whom she would most wish to see, if not absolutely
independent, yet unoppressed by military exactions. "It was _natural_,"
a note of this statesman asserted, "that Britain being armed in
consequence of the King's message, France should arm also--that she
should send an army into Holland--form an encampment on the frontiers of
Hanover--continue to maintain troops in Switzerland--march others to the
south of Italy, and, finally, form encampments upon the coast."[20] All
these threats, excepting the last, referred to distant and to neutral
nations, who were not alleged to have themselves given any cause of
complaint to France; but who were now to be subjected to military
occupation and exaction, because Britain desired to see them happy and
independent, and because harassing and oppressing them must be in
proportion unpleasing to her. It was an entirely new principle of
warlike policy, which introduced the oppression of unoffending and
neutral neighbours as a legitimate mode of carrying on war against a
hostile power, against whom there was little possibility of using
measures directly offensive.
Shortly after this note had been lodged, Buonaparte, incensed at the
message of the King to Parliament, seems to have formed the scheme of
bringing the protracted negotiations betwixt France and England to a
point, in a time, place, and manner, equally extraordinary. At a public
court held at the Tuileries, on the 13th March, the chief consul came up
to Lord Whitworth in considerable agitation, and observed aloud, and
within hearing of the circle,--"You are then determined on war?"--and,
without attending to the disclamations of the English ambassador,
proceeded,--"We have been at war for fifteen years--you are determined
on hostility for fifteen years more--and you force me to it."[21] He
then addressed Count Marcow and the Chevalier Azara--"The English wish
for war; but if they draw the sword first, I will be the last to return
it to the scabbard. They do not respect treaties, which henceforth we
must cover with black crape."[22] He then again addressed Lord
Whitworth--"To what purpose are these armaments? Against whom do you
take these measures of precaution? I have not a single ship of the line
in any port in France: But if you arm, I too will take up arms--if you
fight, I will fight--you may destroy France, but you cannot intimidate
her."
"We desire neither the one nor the other," answered Lord Whitworth,
calmly: "We desire to live with her on terms of good intelligence."
"You must respect treaties, then," said Buonaparte, sternly. "Woe to
those by whom they are not respected! They will be accountable for the
consequences to all Europe."
So saying, and repeating his last remark twice over, he retired from the
levee, leaving the whole circle surprised at the want of decency and
dignity which had given rise to such a scene.[23]
This remarkable explosion may be easily explained, if we refer it
entirely to the impatience of a fiery temper, rendered, by the most
extraordinary train of success, morbidly sensitive to any obstacle which
interfered with a favourite plan; and, doubtless, it is not the least
evil of arbitrary power, that he who possesses it is naturally tempted
to mix up his own feelings of anger, revenge, or mortification, in
affairs which ought to be treated under the most calm and impartial
reference to the public good exclusively. But it has been averred by
those who had best opportunity to know Buonaparte, that the fits of
violent passion which he sometimes displayed, were less the bursts of
unrepressed and constitutional irritability, than means previously
calculated upon to intimidate and astound those with whom he was
treating at the time. There may, therefore, have been policy amid the
first consul's indignation, and he may have recollected, that the
dashing to pieces Cobentzel's china jar in the violent scene which
preceded the signing of the treaty of Campo Formio,[24] was completely
successful in its issue. But the condition of Britain was very different
from that of Austria, and he might have broken all the porcelain at St.
Cloud without making the slightest impression on the equanimity of Lord
Whitworth. This "angry parle," therefore, went for nothing, unless in so
far as it was considered as cutting off the faint remaining hope of
peace, and expressing the violent and obstinate temper of the
individual, upon whose pleasure, whether originating in judgment or
caprice, the fate of Europe at this important crisis unhappily depended.
In England, the interview at the Tuileries, where Britain was held to be
insulted in the person of her ambassador, and that in the presence of
the representatives of all Europe, greatly augmented the general spirit
of resentment.[25]
Talleyrand, to whom Lord Whitworth applied for an explanation of the
scene which had occurred, only answered, that the first consul, publicly
affronted, as he conceived himself, desired to exculpate himself in
presence of the ministers of all the powers of Europe.[26] The question
of peace or war came now to turn on the subject of Malta. The retention
of this fortress by the English could infer no danger to France;
whereas, if parted with by them under an insecure guarantee, the great
probability of its falling into the hands of France, was a subject of
the most legitimate jealousy to Britain, who must always have regarded
the occupation of Malta as a preliminary step to the recapture of Egypt.
There seemed policy, therefore, in Napoleon's conceding this point, and
obtaining for France that respite, which, while it regained her colonies
and recruited her commerce, would have afforded her the means of
renewing a navy, which had been almost totally destroyed during the war,
and consequently of engaging England, at some future and propitious
time, on the element which she called peculiarly her own. It was
accordingly supposed to be Talleyrand's opinion, that, by giving way to
England on the subject of Malta, Napoleon ought to lull her suspicions
to sleep.
Yet there were strong reasons, besides the military character of
Buonaparte, which might induce the first consul to break off
negotiation. His empire was founded on the general opinion entertained
of his inflexibility of purpose, and of his unvaried success, alike in
political objects as in the field of battle. Were he to concede the
principle which England now contested with him in the face of Europe, it
would have in a certain degree derogated from the pre-eminence of the
situation he claimed, as autocrat of the civilized world. In that
character he could not recede an inch from pretensions which he had once
asserted. To have allowed that his encroachment on Switzerland and
Piedmont rendered it necessary that he should grant a compensation to
England, by consenting to her retention of Malta, would have been to
grant that Britain had still a right to interfere in the affairs of the
continent, and to point her out to nations disposed to throw off the
French yoke, as a power to whose mediation he still owed some deference.
These reasons were not without force in themselves, and, joined to the
natural impetuosity of Buonaparte's temper, irritated and stung by the
attacks in the English papers, had their weight probably in inducing him
to give way to that sally of resentment, by which he endeavoured to cut
short the debate, as he would have brought up his guard in person to
decide the fate of a long-disputed action.
Some lingering and hopeless attempts were made to carry on negotiations.
The English Ministry lowered their claim of retaining Malta in
perpetuity to their right of holding it for ten years. Buonaparte, on
the other hand, would listen to no modification of the treaty of Amiens,
but offered, as the guarantee afforded by the occupation of Neapolitan
troops was objected to, that the garrison should consist of Russians or
Austrians. To this proposal Britain would not accede. Lord Whitworth
left Paris, and, on the 18th May, 1803, Britain declared war against
France.
Before we proceed to detail the history of this eventful struggle, we
must cast our eyes backwards, and review some events of importance which
had happened in France since the conclusion of the treaty of Amiens.
FOOTNOTES:
[1] The "Actes des Apôtres," which appeared in 1790, and in the editing
of which Peltier was assisted by Riverol, Champcenetz, and the Viscount
Mirabeau, was principally directed against the measures of the
Constituent Assembly.
[2] "I made the _Moniteur_ the soul and life-blood of my government; it
was the intermediate instrument of my communications with public
opinion, both at home and abroad. Did any question arise respecting
certain grand political combinations, or some delicate points of
diplomacy? the objects were indirectly hinted at in the _Moniteur_. They
instantly attracted universal attention, and became the topics of
general investigation. The _Moniteur_ has been reproached for the
acrimony and virulence of its notes against the enemy: but before we
condemn them, we are bound to take into consideration the benefits they
may have produced, the anxiety with which they occasionally perplexed
the enemy, the terror with which they struck a hesitating
cabinet."--NAPOLEON, _Las Cases_, tom. iv., p. 186.
[3] Annual Register, vol. xlv., p. 659.
[4] Afterwards Earl of Liverpool, and Prime Minister of England--who
died early in 1827.
[5] "His Majesty cannot, and never will, in consequence of any
representation or menace from a foreign power, make any concession which
can be, in the smallest degree, dangerous to the liberty of the press,
as secured by the constitution of the country--a liberty justly dear to
every British subject."--_Annual Register_, vol. xlv., p. 664.
[6] "The French Government must have formed a most erroneous judgment of
the disposition of the British nation, and of the character of its
Government, if they have been taught to expect that any representation
of a foreign power will ever induce them to a violation of those rights
on which the liberties of the people of this country are
founded."--_Ibid._, p. 666.
[7] The trial took place in the Court of King's Bench, Feb. 21, before
Lord Ellenborough and a special jury.
[8] The Right Hon. Sir James Mackintosh, died May 30, 1832.
[9] He was never brought up to receive sentence, our quarrel with the
French having soon afterwards come to an absolute rupture. [Peltier was
a native of Nantes. On the restoration of the Bourbons, he returned to
Paris, where he died in 1825.]
[10] "Thence the resentment which Buonaparte felt against England.
'Every wind which blows,' said he, 'from that direction, brings nothing
but contempt and hatred against my person.' From that time he concluded
that the peace could not benefit him; that it would not leave him
sufficient facility to aggrandize his dominion externally, and would
impede the extension of his internal power; that, moreover, our daily
relations with England modified our political ideas and revived our
thoughts of liberty."--FOUCHÉ, tom. i., p. 257.
[11] "When Napoleon was shown, at St. Helena, some numbers of
_L'Ambigu_, he said, 'Ah! Peltier. He has been libelling me these twenty
years: but I am very glad to get them.'"--O'MEARA, vol. i., p. 385.
[12] For a copy of Sebastiani's report to the first consul, see Annual
Register, vol. xlv., p. 742.
[13] "Whatever success intrigues may experience in London, no other
people will be involved in new combinations. The government says, with
conscious truth, that England, single-handed, cannot maintain a struggle
against France."--_View of the State of the Republic_, Feb. 22, 1803.
See Annual Register, vol. xlv., p. 760.
[14] See Declaration, dated Westminster, May 18, 1803; Annual Register,
vol. xlv., p. 742.
[15] "The conference with Lord Whitworth proved for me a lesson which
altered my method for ever. From this moment I never treated officially
of political affairs, but through the intervention of my minister for
foreign affairs. He, at any rate, could give a positive and formal
denial, which the sovereign could not do."--NAPOLEON, tom. iv., p. 156.
[16] Lord Whitworth had been, successively,--in 1786, minister
plenipotentiary at Warsaw,--in 1788, envoy extraordinary and minister
plenipotentiary to St. Petersburgh,--and, in 1800, minister
plenipotentiary to the court of Denmark.
[17] "If Buonaparte had wished for the maintenance of peace, he would
sedulously have avoided giving umbrage and inquietude to England, with
regard to its Indian possessions, and would have abstained from
applauding the rhodomontades about the mission of Sebastiani into Syria
and Turkey. His imprudent conversation with Lord Whitworth accelerated
the rupture. I foresaw, from that time, that he would quickly pass from
a certain degree of moderation, as chief of the government, to acts of
exaggeration, violence, and even rage."--FOUCHÉ, tom. i., p. 259.
[18] See Extract of a Despatch from Lord Whitworth to Lord Hawkesbury,
dated Paris, Feb. 17; Annual Register, vol. xlv., p. 685.
[19] Annual Register, vol. xlv., p. 646.
[20] Annual Register, vol. xlv., p. 697.
[21] "Nous avons," said he, "dejà fait la guerre pendant quinze ans." As
he seemed to wait for an answer, I observed only, "C'en est dejà
trop."--"Mais," said he, "vous voulez la faire encore quinze années; et
vous m'y forcez."--Lord Whitworth to Lord Hawkesbury; see Annual
Register, vol. xlv., p. 696.
[22] "Ils ne respectent pas les traités: il faut dorénavant les couvrir
de crêpe noir."
[23] "The ambassador made a respectful bow, and gave no reply. The first
consul left that part of the saloon; but whether he had been a little
heated by this explosion of ill-humour, or from some other cause, he
ceased his round, and withdrew to his own apartments. Madame Buonaparte
followed; and in an instant the saloon was cleared of company."--SAVARY,
tom. i., p. 307.
[24] See _ante_, vol. ii., pp. 175, 176. "It is to be remarked, that all
this passed loud enough to be heard by two hundred people who were
present; and I am persuaded that there was not a single person who did
not feel the impropriety of the first consul's conduct, and the total
want of dignity, as well as of decency, on the occasion."--LORD
WHITWORTH.
[25] "It is utterly incorrect, that any thing occurred in the course of
our interview which was not in conformity with the common rules of
decorum. Lord Whitworth himself, after our conference, being in company
with other ambassadors, expressed himself perfectly satisfied, and
added, that he had no doubt all things would be satisfactorily
settled."--NAPOLEON, _Las Cases_, tom. iv., p. 157.
[26] For a copy of Napoleon's Instructions to Talleyrand, see Appendix
to this Volume, No. I.
CHAPTER XXVI.
_St. Domingo--The Negroes split into parties under different
Chiefs--Toussaint L'Ouverture the most distinguished of
these--Appoints a Consular Government--France sends an Expedition
against St. Domingo, under General Leclerc, in December
1801--Toussaint submits--He is sent to France, where he dies--The
French are assaulted by the Negroes--Leclerc is succeeded by
Rochambeau--The French finally obliged to capitulate to an English
squadron--Buonaparte's scheme to consolidate his power--The
Consular Guard augmented--Legion of Honour--Opposition formed
against the Consular Government--Application to the Count de
Provence (Louis XVIII.)_
When the treaty of Amiens appeared to have restored peace to Europe, one
of Buonaparte's first enterprises was to attempt the recovery of the
French possessions in the large, rich, and valuable colony of St.
Domingo, the disasters of which island form a terrible episode in the
history of the war.
The convulsions of the French Revolution had reached St. Domingo, and,
catching like fire to combustibles, had bred a violent feud between the
white people in the island, and the mulattoes, the latter of whom
demanded to be admitted into the privileges and immunities of the
former; the newly established rights of men, as they alleged, having no
reference to the distinction of colour. While the whites and the people
of colour were thus engaged in a civil war, the negro slaves, the most
oppressed and most numerous class of the population, rose against both
parties, and rendered the whole island one scene of bloodshed and
conflagration. The few planters who remained invited the support of the
British arms, which easily effected a temporary conquest. But the
European soldiery perished so fast through the influence of the climate,
that, in 1798, the English were glad to abandon an island which had
proved the grave of so many of her best and bravest, who had fallen
without a wound, and void of renown.
[Sidenote: TOUSSAINT L'OUVERTURE.]
The negroes, left to themselves, divided into different parties, who
submitted to the authority of chiefs more or less independent of each
other, many of whom displayed considerable talent. Of these, the
principal leader was Toussaint L'Ouverture, who, after waging war like a
savage, appears to have used the power which victory procured him with
much political skill. Although himself a negro, he had the sagacity to
perceive how important it was for the civilisation of his subjects, that
they should not be deprived of the opportunities of knowledge, and
examples of industry, afforded them by the white people. He, therefore,
protected and encouraged the latter, and established, as an equitable
regulation, that the blacks, now freemen, should nevertheless continue
to labour the plantations of the white colonists, while the produce of
the estate should be divided in certain proportions betwixt the white
proprietor and the sable cultivator.
The least transgressions of these regulations he punished with African
ferocity. On one occasion, a white female, the owner of a plantation,
had been murdered by the negroes by whom it was laboured, and who had
formerly been her slaves. Toussaint marched to the spot at the head of a
party of his horse-guards, collected the negroes belonging to the
plantation, and surrounded them with his black cavalry, who, after a
very brief inquiry, received orders to charge and cut them to pieces; of
which order our informant witnessed the execution. His unrelenting
rigour, joined to his natural sagacity, soon raised Toussaint to the
chief command of the island; and he availed himself of the maritime
peace, to consolidate his authority by establishing a constitution on
the model most lately approved of in France, which being that of the
year Eight, consisted of a consular government. Toussaint failed not, of
course, to assume the supreme government to himself, with power to name
his successor. The whole was a parody on the procedure of Buonaparte,
which, doubtless, the latter was not highly pleased with;[27] for there
are many cases in which an imitation by others, of the conduct we
ourselves have held, is a matter not of compliment, but of the most
severe satire. The constitution of St. Domingo was instantly put in
force, although, with an ostensible deference to France, the sanction of
her Government had been ceremoniously required. It was evident that the
African, though not unwilling to acknowledge some nominal degree of
sovereignty on the part of France, was determined to retain in his own
hands the effective government of the colony. But this in no respect
consisted with the plans of Buonaparte, who was impatient to restore to
France those possessions of which the British naval superiority had so
long deprived her--colonies, shipping, and commerce.[28]
A powerful expedition was fitted out at the harbours of Brest, L'Orient,
and Rochefort, destined to restore St. Domingo in full subjection to the
French empire. The fleet amounted to thirty-four ships bearing forty
guns and upwards, with more than twenty frigates and smaller armed
vessels. They had on board above twenty thousand men, and General
Leclerc, the brother-in-law of the first consul, was named
commander-in-chief of the expedition, having a staff composed of
officers of acknowledged skill and bravery.
It is said that Buonaparte had the art to employ a considerable
proportion of the troops which composed the late army of the Rhine, in
this distant expedition to an insalubrious climate.[29] But he would not
permit it to be supposed, that there was the least danger; and he
exercised an act of family authority on the subject, to prove that such
were his real sentiments. His sister, the beautiful Pauline, afterwards
the wife of Prince Borghese, showed the utmost reluctance to accompany
her present husband, General Leclerc, upon the expedition, and only went
on board when actually compelled to do so by the positive orders of the
first consul, who, although she was his favourite sister, was yet
better contented that she should share the general risk, than, by
remaining behind, leave it to be inferred that he himself augured a
disastrous conclusion to the expedition.
The armament set sail on the 14th of December, 1801, while an English
squadron of observation, uncertain of their purpose, waited upon and
watched their progress to the West Indies. The French fleet presented
themselves before Cape François, on the 29th of January, 1802.
Toussaint, summoned to surrender, seemed at first inclined to come to an
agreement, terrified probably by the great force of the expedition,
which time and the climate could alone afford the negroes any chance of
resisting. A letter was delivered to him from the first consul,
expressing esteem for his person; and General Leclerc offered him the
most favourable terms, together with the situation of
lieutenant-governor. Ultimately, however, Toussaint could not make up
his mind to trust the French, and he determined upon resistance, which
he managed with considerable skill. Nevertheless, the well-concerted
military operations of the whites soon overpowered for the present the
resistance of Toussaint and his followers. Chief after chief
surrendered, and submitted themselves to General Leclerc. At length,
Toussaint L'Ouverture himself seems to have despaired of being able to
make further or more effectual resistance. He made his formal
submission, and received and accepted Leclerc's pardon, under the
condition that he should retire to a plantation at Gonaives, and never
leave it without permission of the commander-in-chief.
[Sidenote: DEATH OF TOUSSAINT.]
The French had not long had possession of the colony, ere they
discovered, or supposed they had discovered, symptoms of a conspiracy
amongst the negroes, and Toussaint was, on very slight grounds, accused
as encouraging a revolt. Under this allegation, the only proof of which
was a letter, capable of an innocent interpretation, the unfortunate
chief was seized upon, with his whole family, and put on board of a
vessel bound to France. Nothing official was ever learned concerning his
fate, farther than that he was imprisoned in the Castle of Joux, in
Franche Compté, where the unhappy African fell a victim to the severity
of an Alpine climate,[30] to which he was unaccustomed, and the
privations of a close confinement. The deed has been often quoted and
referred to as one of the worst actions of Buonaparte, who ought, if not
in justice, in generosity at least, to have had compassion on the man,
whose fortunes bore, in many respects, a strong similarity to his own.
It afforded but too strong a proof, that though humanity was often in
Napoleon's mouth, and sometimes displayed in his actions, yet its maxims
were seldom found sufficient to protect those whom he disliked or
feared, from the fate which tyranny most willingly assigns to its
victims, that of being silently removed from the living world, and
enclosed in their prison as in a tomb, from which no complaints can be
heard, and where they are to await the slow approach of death, like men
who are literally buried alive.
The perfidy with which the French had conducted themselves towards
Toussaint, was visited by early vengeance. That scourge of Europeans,
the yellow fever, broke out among their troops, and in an incredible
short space of time, swept off General Leclerc,[31] with many of his
best officers and bravest soldiers. The negroes, incensed at the conduct
of the governor towards Toussaint, and encouraged by the sickly
condition of the French army, rose upon them in every quarter. A species
of war ensued, of which we are thankful it is not our task to trace the
deplorable and ghastly particulars. The cruelty which was perhaps to be
expected in the savage Africans, just broke loose from the bondage of
slavery, communicated itself to the civilized French. If the former tore
out their prisoners' eyes with cork-screws, the latter drowned their
captives by hundreds, which imitation of Carrier's republican baptism
they called "deportation into the sea." On other occasions, numerous
bodies of negroes were confined in hulks, and there smothered to death
with the fumes of lighted sulphur. The issue of this hellish warfare
was, that the cruelty of the French enraged, instead of terrifying their
savage antagonists; and at length, that the numbers of the former,
diminished by disease and constant skirmishing, became unequal to the
defence even of the garrison towns of the island, much more so to the
task of reconquering it. General Rochambeau, who succeeded Leclerc as
commander-in-chief, was finally obliged to save the poor wreck of that
fine army, by submitting at discretion to an English squadron, 1st
December 1803. Thus was the richest colony in the West Indies finally
lost to France.[32] Remaining entirely in the possession of the black
population, St. Domingo will show, in process of time, how far the
natives of Africa, having European civilisation within their reach, are
capable of forming a state, governed by the usual rules of polity.
[Sidenote: COURT OF THE TUILERIES.]
While Buonaparte made these strong efforts for repossessing France in
this fine colony, it was not to be supposed that he was neglecting the
establishment of his own power upon a more firm basis. His present
situation was--like every other in life--considerably short of what he
could have desired, though so infinitely superior to all that his most
unreasonable wishes could at one time have aspired to. He had all the
real power of royalty, and, since the settlement of his authority for
life, he had daily assumed more of the pomp and circumstance with which
sovereignty is usually invested. The Tuileries were once more surrounded
with guards without, and filled by levees within. The ceremonial of a
court was revived, and Buonaparte, judging of mankind with accuracy,
neglected no minute observance by which the princes of the earth are
wont to enforce their authority. Still there remained much to be done.
He held the sovereignty only in the nature of a life-rent. He could,
indeed, dispose of it by will, but the last wills even of kings have
been frequently set aside; and, at any rate, the privilege comes short
of that belonging to an hereditary crown, which descends, by the right
of blood, from one possessor to another, so that, in one sense, it may
be said to confer on the dynasty a species of immortality. Buonaparte
knew also the virtue of names. The title of chief consul did not
necessarily infer sovereign rights--it might signify every thing, or it
might signify nothing--in common language, it inferred alike one of the
annual executive governors of the Roman Republic, whose _fasces_ swayed
the world, or the petty resident who presides over commercial affairs in
a foreign seaport. There were no precise ideas of power or rights
necessarily and unalienably connected with it. Besides, Buonaparte had
other objections to his present title of dignity. The title of first
consul implied, that there were two others,--far, indeed, from being
co-ordinate with Napoleon, but yet who occupied a higher rank on the
steps of the throne, and approached his person more nearly than he could
have desired. Again, the word reminded the hearer, even by the new mode
of its application, that it belonged to a government of recent
establishment, and of revolutionary origin, and Napoleon did not wish to
present such ideas to the public mind; since that which was but lately
erected might be easily destroyed, and that which last arose out of the
revolutionary cauldron might, like the phantoms which had preceded it,
give place in its turn to an apparition more potent. Policy seemed to
recommend to him, to have recourse to the ancient model which Europe had
been long accustomed to reverence; to adopt the form of government best
known and longest established through the greater part of the world;
and, assuming the title and rights of a monarch, to take his place among
the ancient and recognised authorities of Europe.
It was necessary to proceed with the utmost caution in this innovation,
which, whenever accomplished, must necessarily involve the French people
in the notable inconsistency, of having murdered the descendant of their
old princes, committed a thousand crimes, and suffered under a mass of
misery, merely because they were resolved not to permit the existence of
that crown, which was now to be placed on the head of a soldier of
fortune. Before, therefore, he could venture on this bold measure, in
which, were it but for very shame's sake, he must be certain of great
opposition, Buonaparte endeavoured, by every means in his power, to
strengthen himself in his government.
The army was carefully new-modelled, so as to make it as much as
possible his own; and the French soldiers, who regarded the power of
Buonaparte as the fruit of their own victories, were in general devoted
to his cause, notwithstanding the fame of Moreau, to whom a certain part
of their number still adhered. The consular guard, a highly privileged
body of select forces, was augmented to the number of six thousand men.
These formidable legions, which included troops of every species of
arms, had been gradually formed and increased upon the plan of the corps
of guides which Buonaparte introduced during the first Italian
campaigns, for immediate attendance on his person and for preventing
such accidents as once or twice had like to have befallen him, by
unexpected encounters with flying parties of the enemy. But the guards,
as now increased in numbers, had a duty much more extended. They were
chosen men, taught to consider themselves as superior to the rest of the
army, and enjoying advantages in pay and privileges. When the other
troops were subject to privations, care was taken that the guards should
experience as little of them as possible, and that by every possible
exertion they should be kept in the highest degree of readiness for
action. They were only employed upon service of the utmost importance,
and seldom in the beginning of an engagement, when they remained in
reserve under the eye of Napoleon himself. It was usually by means of
his guard that the final and decisive exertion was made which marked
Buonaparte's tactics, and so often achieved victory at the very crisis
when it seemed inclining to the enemy. Regarding themselves as
considerably superior to the other soldiers, and accustomed also to be
under Napoleon's immediate command, his guards were devotedly attached
to him; and a body of troops of such high character might be considered
as a formidable bulwark around the throne which he meditated ascending.
[Sidenote: LEGION OF HONOUR.]
The attachment of these chosen legions, and of his soldiers in general,
formed the foundation of Buonaparte's power, who, of all sovereigns that
ever mounted to authority, might be said to reign by dint of victory and
of his sword. But he surrounded himself by another species of partisans.
The Legion of Honour was destined to form a distinct and particular
class of privileged individuals, whom, by honours and bounties bestowed
on them, he resolved to bind to his own interest.
This institution, which attained considerable political importance,
originated in the custom which Napoleon had early introduced, of
conferring on soldiers, of whatever rank, a sword, fusee, or other
military weapon, in the name of the state, as acknowledging and
commemorating some act of peculiar gallantry. The influence of such
public rewards was of course very great. They encouraged those who had
received them to make every effort to preserve the character which they
had thus gained, while they awakened the emulation of hundreds and
thousands who desired similar marks of distinction. Buonaparte now
formed the project of embodying the persons who had merited such rewards
into an association, similar in many respects to those orders, or
brotherhoods of chivalry, with which, during the middle ages, the feudal
sovereigns of Europe surrounded themselves, and which subsist to this
day, though in a changed and modified form. These, however, have been
uniformly created on the feudal principles, and the honour they confer
limited, or supposed to be limited, to persons of some rank and
condition: but the scheme of Buonaparte was to extend this species of
honourable distinction through all ranks, in the quality proper to each,
as medals to be distributed among various classes of the community are
struck upon metals of different value, but are all stamped with the same
dye.[33] The outlines of the institution were these:--
The Legion of Honour was to consist of a great council of administration
and fifteen cohorts, each of which was to have its own separate
headquarters, in some distinguished town of the Republic. The council of
administration was to consist of the three consuls, and four other
members; a senator, namely, a member of the Legislative Body, a member
of the Tribunate, and one of the Council of State, each to be chosen by
the body to which he belonged. The order might be acquired by
distinguished merit, either of a civil or a military nature; and various
rules were laid down for the mode of selecting the members. The first
consul was, in right of his office, captain-general of the legion, and
president of the council of administration. Every cohort was to consist
of seven grand officers, twenty commanders, thirty subaltern officers,
and three hundred and fifty legionaries. Their nomination was for life,
and their appointments considerable. The grand officers enjoyed a yearly
pension of 5000 francs; the commanders, 2500; the officers, 1000 francs;
the privates, or legionaries, 250. They were to swear upon their honour
to defend the government of France, and maintain the inviolability of
her empire; to combat, by every lawful means, against the
re-establishment of the feudal institutions; and to concur in
maintaining the principles of liberty and equality.
Notwithstanding these last words, containing, when properly understood,
the highest political and moral truth, but employed in France originally
to cover the most abominable cruelties, and used more lately as mere
words of course, the friends of liberty were not to be blinded,
regarding the purpose of this new institution. Their number was now much
limited; but amidst their weakness they had listened to the lessons of
prudence and experience, and abandoning these high-swoln, illusory, and
absurd pretensions, which had created such general disturbance, seem to
have set themselves seriously, and at the same time moderately to work,
to protect the cause of practical and useful freedom, by such resistance
as the constitution still permitted them to offer, by means of the
Tribunate and the Legislative Body.
[Sidenote: OPPOSITION TO THE GOVERNMENT.]
Among the statesmen who associated to form an Opposition, which, on the
principle of the constitutional Opposition of England, were to act
towards the executive government rather as to an erring friend, whom
they desired to put right, than as an enemy, whom they meant to destroy,
were Benjamin Constant, early distinguished by talent and eloquence,
Chenier, author of the hymn of the Marseilloise, Savoye-Rollin,
Chauvelin, and others, among whose names that of Carnot was most
distinguished. These statesmen had learned apparently, that it is better
in human affairs to aim at that minor degree of good which is
practicable, than to aspire to a perfection which is unattainable. In
the opinion of most of them, the government of Buonaparte was a
necessary evil, without which, or something of the same strength, to
control the factions by which she was torn to pieces, France must have
continued to be a prey to a succession of such anarchical governments as
had already almost ruined her. They, therefore, entertained none of the
usual views of conspirators. They considered the country as in the
condition of a wounded warrior, compelled for a short time to lay aside
her privileges, as he his armour; but they hoped, when France had
renewed her strength and spirit by an interval of repose, they might see
her, under better auspices than before, renew and assert her claims to
be free from military law. Meantime, they held it their duty,
professing, at the same time, the highest respect to the government and
its head, the first consul, to keep alive as far as was permitted the
spirit of the country, and oppose the encroachments of its ruler. They
were not long allowed to follow the practical and useful path which they
had sketched out; but the French debates were never so decently or
respectably conducted as during this period.
The opposition, as they may be called, had not objected to the
reappointment of Buonaparte to the Consulate for life. Probably they
were reluctant to have the appearance of giving him personal offence,
were aware they would be too feebly supported, and were sensible, that
struggling for a point which could not be attained, was unlikely to lead
to any good practical results. The institution of the Legion of Honour
offered a better chance to try their new opposition tactics.
Rœderer, the orator by whom the measure was proposed to the
Tribunate, endeavoured to place it in the most favourable light. It was
founded, he said, upon the eighty-seventh article of the Constitutional
Declaration, which provided that national recompenses should be
conferred on those soldiers who had distinguished themselves in their
country's service. He represented the proposed order as a moral
institution, calculated to raise to the highest the patriotism and
gallantry of the French people. It was a coin, he said, of a value
different from, and far more precious than that which was issued from
the treasury--a treasure of a quality which could not be debased, and of
a quantity which was inexhaustible, since the mine consisted in the
national sense of honour.
To this specious argument, it was replied by Rollin and others, that the
law was of a nature dangerous to public liberty. It was an abuse, they
said, of the constitutional article, on which it was alleged to be
founded, since it exhausted at once, by the creation of a numerous
corps, the stock of rewards which the article referred to held in frugal
reserve, to recompense great actions as they should occur. If everything
was given to remunerate merits which had been already ascertained, what
stock, it was asked, remained for compensating future actions of
gallantry, excepting the chance of a tardy admission into the corps as
vacancies should occur? But especially it was pleaded, that the
establishment of a military body, distinguished by high privileges and
considerable pay, yet distinct and differing from all the other national
forces, was a direct violation of the sacred principles of equality.
Some reprobated the intermixture of the civil officers of the state in a
military institution. Others were of opinion that the oath proposed to
be taken was superfluous, if not ridiculous; since, how could the
members of the Legion of Honour be more bound to serve the state, or
watch over the constitution, than any other citizens; or, in what manner
was it proposed they should exert themselves for that purpose? Other
arguments were urged; but that which all felt to be the most cogent, was
rather understood than even hinted at. This was the immense additional
strength which the first consul must attain, by having at his command
the distribution of the new honours, and being thus enabled to form a
body of satellites entirely dependent upon himself, and carefully
selected from the bravest and ablest within the realm.
The institution of the Legion of Honour was at length carried in the
Tribunate, by a majority of fifty-six voices over thirty-eight, and
sanctioned in the Legislative Body by one hundred and sixty-six over an
hundred and ten. The strong divisions of the opposition on this trying
question, showed high spirit in those who composed that party; but they
were placed in a situation so insulated and separated from the public,
so utterly deprived of all constitutional guarantees for the protection
of freedom, that their resistance, however honourable to themselves, was
totally ineffectual, and without advantage to the nation.[34]
[Sidenote: PROPOSITION TO LOUIS XVIII.]
Meanwhile, Buonaparte was deeply engaged in intrigues of a different
character, by means of which he hoped to place the sovereign authority
which he had acquired, on a footing less anomalous, and more
corresponding with that of the other monarchs in Europe, than it was at
present. For this purpose an overture was made by the Prussian minister
Haugwitz, through the medium of M. de Meyer, President of the Regency of
Warsaw, proposing to the Comte de Provence (since Louis XVIII.,) that he
should resign his rights to the crown of France to the successful
general who occupied the throne, in which case the exiled princes were
to be invested with dominions in Italy, and restored to a brilliant
existence. The answer of Louis was marked at once by moderation, sense,
and that firmness of character which corresponded with his illustrious
birth and high pretensions. "I do not confound Monsieur Buonaparte,"
said the exiled monarch, "with those who have preceded him; I esteem his
bravery and military talents; I owe him good-will for many acts of his
government, for the good which is done to my people I will always esteem
done to me. But he is mistaken if he thinks that my rights can be made
the subjects of bargain and composition. The very step he is now
adopting would go to establish them, could they be otherwise called in
question. I know not what may be the designs of God for myself and my
family, but I am not ignorant of the duties imposed on me by the rank in
which it was his pleasure I should be born. As a Christian, I will
fulfil those duties to my last breath. As a descendant of Saint Louis, I
will know by his example how to respect myself, even were I in fetters.
As the successor of Francis the First, I will at least have it to say
with him, 'We have lost all excepting our honour!'"
Such is the account which has been uniformly given by the Princes of the
House of Bourbon, concerning this communication, which is said to have
taken place on the 26th February, 1803.[35] Buonaparte has, indeed,
denied that he was accessory to any such transaction, and has said truly
enough, that an endeavour to acquire an interest in the Bourbon's title
by compromise, would have been an admission on his part that his own,
flowing, as he alleged, from the people, was imperfect, and needed
repairs. Therefore, he denied having taken any step which could, in its
consequences, have inferred such an admission.
But, in the first place, it is not to be supposed that such a treaty
would have been published by the Bourbon family, unless it had been
proposed by Meyer; and it is equally unlikely that either Haugwitz or
Meyer would have ventured on such a negotiation, excepting at the
instigation of Buonaparte, who alone could make good the terms proposed
on the one side, or derive advantage from the concessions stipulated on
the other. Secondly, without stopping to inquire how far the title which
Buonaparte pretended to the supreme authority, was of a character
incapable of being improved by a cession of the Comte de Provence's
rights in his favour, it would still have continued an object of great
political consequence to have obtained a surrender of the claims of the
House of Bourbon, which were even yet acknowledged by a very
considerable party within the kingdom. It was, therefore, worth while to
venture upon a negotiation which might have had the most important
results, although, when it proved fruitless, we can see strong reasons
for Napoleon concealing and disowning his accession to a step, which
might be construed as implying some sense of deficiency of his own
title, and some degree of recognition of that of the exiled prince.
It may be remarked, that, up to this period, Napoleon had manifested no
particular spleen towards the family of Bourbon. On the contrary, he had
treated their followers with lenity, and spoken with decency of their
own claims. But the rejection of the treaty with _Monsieur_ Buonaparte,
however moderately worded, has been reasonably supposed to have had a
deep effect on his mind, and may have been one remote cause of a
tragedy, for which it is impossible to find an adequate one--the murder,
namely, of the Duke d'Enghien. But, before we approach this melancholy
part of Napoleon's history, it is proper to trace the events which
succeeded the renewal of the war.
FOOTNOTES:
[27] "To give an idea of the indignation which the first consul must
have felt, it may suffice to mention, that Toussaint not only assumed
authority over the colony during his life, but invested himself with the
right of naming his successor; and pretended to hold his authority, not
from the mother-country, but from a _soi-disant_ colonial assembly which
he had created."--NAPOLEON, _Montholon_, tom. i., p. 203.
[28] "The party of the colonists was very powerful in Paris: public
opinion required the possession of St. Domingo. On the other hand, the
first consul was not sorry to dissipate the apprehensions of the
English, by sending 15,000 men to St. Domingo. These 15,000 men would
have succeeded, had it not been for the yellow fever. If Toussaint,
Dessalines, and Christophe had chosen to submit, they would have secured
their liberty, rank, and fortune, as well as those of the people of
their colour; the freedom of the blacks would have been securely
confirmed."--NAPOLEON, _Montholon_, tom. ii., p. 218.
[29] "The first consul ardently seized the happy opportunity of sending
away a great number of officers, formed in the school of Moreau, whose
reputation pained him, and whose influence with the army, if not a
subject of alarm, was at least to him one of restraint and inquietude.
'Well,' said Buonaparte to me one day, 'your Jacobins malignantly say,
that they are the soldiers and friends of Moreau whom I am sending to
perish at St. Domingo; they are grumbling maniacs; let them talk
on.'"--FOUCHÉ, tom. i., p. 217.
[30] Anxiety, age, and a climate too severe for his constitution, soon
put an end to his days. He died on April 27, 1803, after a captivity of
ten months. His mysterious fate excited great interest--witness the
noble sonnet of Wordsworth:--
"TOUSSAINT! the most unhappy man of men!
Whether the all-cheering sun be free to shed
His beams around thee, or thou rest thy head
Pillow'd in some dark dungeon's noisome den--
O, miserable chieftain! where and when
Wilt thou find patience?--Yet die not; do thou
Wear rather in thy bonds a cheerful brow:
Though fallen thyself, never to rise again,
Live and take comfort. Thou hast left behind
Powers that will work for thee--Air, Earth, and Skies;
There's not a breathing of the common wind
That will forget thee; thou hast great allies;
Thy friends are Exultations, Agonies,
And Love, and Man's unconquerable Mind."
[31] "Leclerc was an officer of the first merit, equally skilful in the
labours of the cabinet and in the manœuvres of the field of battle:
he had served in the campaigns of 1796 and 1797 as adjutant-general to
Napoleon; and in that of 1799 as a general of division under Moreau. He
commanded at the battle of Freisingen, where he defeated the Archduke
Ferdinand; he led into Spain an army of observation, of 20,000 men,
intended to act against Portugal; finally, in this expedition of St.
Domingo, he displayed great talent and activity."--NAPOLEON, tom. i., p.
211.
[32] "I have to reproach myself with the attempt made upon the colony
during the Consulship. The design of reducing it by force was a great
error. I ought to have been satisfied with governing it through the
medium of Toussaint."--NAPOLEON, _Las Cases_, tom. iv., p. 171.
[33] "If the Legion of Honour were not the recompense of _civil_ as well
as _military_ services, it would cease to be the _Legion of Honour_. It
would be a strange piece of presumption, indeed, in the military to
pretend that honours should be paid to them only. Soldiers who knew not
how to read or write, were proud of bearing, in recompense for the blood
they had shed, the same decoration as was given to distinguished talents
in civil life; and, on the other hand, the latter attached a greater
value to this reward of their labours, because it was the decoration of
the brave. The Legion of Honour was the property of every one who was an
honour to his country, stood at the head of his profession, and
contributed to the national prosperity and glory."--NAPOLEON,
_Montholon_, tom. ii., p. 145.
[34] Montgaillard, tom. v., p. 573.
[35] Montgaillard, tom. v., p. 5.
CHAPTER XXVII.
_Renewal of the War--England lays an Embargo on French
Vessels--Napoleon retaliates by detaining British Subjects--Effects
of this unprecedented Measure--Hanover and other places occupied by
the French--Scheme of Invasion renewed--Napoleon's
Preparations--Defensive Measures of England._
The bloody war which succeeded the short peace of Amiens, originated, to
use the words of the satirist, in high words, jealousies, and fears.
There was no special or determinate cause of quarrel, which could be
removed by explanation, apology, or concession.
The English nation were jealous, and from the strides which Buonaparte
had made towards universal power, not jealous without reason, of the
farther purposes of the French ruler, and demanded guarantees against
the encroachments which they apprehended; and such guarantees he deemed
it beneath his dignity to grant. The discussion of these adverse claims
had been unusually violent and intemperate; and as Buonaparte conceived
the English nation to be his personal enemies, so they, on the other
hand, began to regard his power as totally incompatible with the peace
of Europe, and independence of Britain. To Napoleon, the English people,
tradesmen and shopkeepers as he chose to qualify them, seemed assuming a
consequence in Europe, which was, he conceived, far beyond their due. He
was affected by feelings similar to those with which Haman beheld
Mordecai sitting at the King's gate;--all things availing him nothing,
while Britain held such a high rank among the nations, without deigning
to do him reverence or worship. The English people, on the other hand,
regarded him as the haughty and proud oppressor who had the will at
least, if not the power, to root Britain out from among the nations, and
reduce them to a state of ignominy and bondage.
When, therefore, the two nations again arose to the contest, it was like
combatants whose anger against each other has been previously raised to
the highest pitch by mutual invective. Each had recourse to the measures
by which their enemy could be most prejudiced.
England had at her command the large means of annoyance arising out of
her immense naval superiority, and took her measures with the decision
which the emergency required. Instant orders were despatched to prevent
the cession of such colonies as yet remained to be given up, according
to the treaty of Amiens, and to seize by a _coup-de-main_ such of the
French settlements as had been ceded, or were yet occupied by her.
France, on the other hand, in consequence of her equally great
superiority by land, assembled upon her extensive line of sea-coast a
very numerous army, with which she appeared disposed to make good her
ruler's threats of invasion. At the same time, Buonaparte occupied
without ceremony the territory of Naples, Holland, and such other states
as Britain must have seen in his hands with feelings of keen
apprehension, and thus made good the previous menaces of Talleyrand in
his celebrated Note.[36]
But besides carrying to the utmost extent all the means of annoyance
which the ordinary rules of hostility afford, Napoleon, going beyond
these, had recourse to strange and unaccustomed reprisals, unknown as
yet to the code of civilized nature, and tending only to gratify his
own resentment, and extend the evils of war, already sufficiently
numerous.
[Sidenote: EMBARGO ON FRENCH VESSELS--DÉTENUS.]
The English had, as is the universal custom, laid an embargo on all
French vessels in their ports, at the instant the war was proclaimed,
and the loss to France was of course considerable. Buonaparte took a
singular mode of retaliating, by seizing on the persons of the English
of every description, who chanced to be at Paris, or travelling in the
dominions of France, who, trusting to the laws of good faith hitherto
observed by all civilized nations, expected nothing less than an attack
upon their personal freedom. The absurd excuse at first set up for this
extraordinary violation of humanity, at once, and of justice, was, that
some of these individuals might be liable to serve in the English
militia, and were therefore to be considered as prisoners of war. But
this flimsy pretext could not have excused the seizing on the English of
all ranks, conditions, and ages. The measure was adopted without the
participation of the first consul's ministers; at least we must presume
so, since Talleyrand himself encouraged some individuals to remain after
the British ambassador had left Paris, with an assurance of safety which
he had it not in his power to make good. It was the vengeful start of a
haughty temper, rendered irritable, as we have often stated, by
uninterrupted prosperity, and of consequence, opposing itself to all
resistance, and contradiction, with an acuteness of feeling approaching
to frenzy.
The individuals who suffered under this capricious and tyrannical act of
arbitrary power, were treated in all respects like prisoners of war, and
confined to prison as such, unless they gave their parole to abide in
certain towns assigned them, and keep within particular limits.
The mass of individual evil occasioned by this cruel measure was
incalculably great. Twelve years, a large proportion of human life, were
cut from that of each of these _Détenus_, as they were called, so far as
regarded settled plan, or active exertion. Upon many, the interruption
fell with fatal influence, blighting all their hopes and prospects;
others learned to live only for the passing day, and were thus deterred
from habitual study or useful industry. The most tender bonds of
affection were broken asunder by this despotic sentence of imprisonment;
the most fatal inroads were made on family feelings and affections by
this long separation between children, and husbands, and wives--all the
nearest and dearest domestic relations. In short, if it was Buonaparte's
desire to inflict the highest degree of pain on a certain number of
persons, only because they were born in Britain, he certainly attained
his end. If he hoped to gain any thing farther, he was completely
baffled; and when he hypocritically imputes the sufferings of the
_détenus_ to the obstinacy of the English Ministry,[37] his reasoning is
the same with that of a captain of Italian banditti, who murders his
prisoner, and throws the blame of the crime on the friends of the
deceased, who failed to send the ransom at which he had rated his life.
Neither is his vindication more reasonable, when he pretends to say that
the measure was taken in order to prevent England, on future occasions,
from seizing, according to ancient usage, on the shipping in her ports.
This outrage must therefore be recorded as one of those acts of wanton
wilfulness in which Buonaparte indulged his passion at the expense of
his honour, and, if rightly understood, of his real interest.
The detention of civilians, unoffending and defenceless, was a breach of
those courtesies which ought to be sacred, as mitigating the horrors of
war. The occupation of Hanover was made in violation of the Germanic
Constitution. This patrimony of our kings had in former wars been
admitted to the benefit of neutrality; a reasonable distinction being
taken betwixt the Elector of Hanover, as one of the grand feudatories of
the empire, and the same person in his character of King of Great
Britain; in which latter capacity only he was at war with France. But
Buonaparte was not disposed to recognise these metaphysical
distinctions; nor were any of the powers of Germany in a condition to
incur his displeasure, by asserting the constitution and immunities of
the empire. Austria had paid too deep a price for her former attempts to
withstand the power of France, to permit her to extend her opposition
beyond a feeble remonstrance; and Prussia had too long pursued a
temporizing and truckling line of politics, to allow her to break short
with Napoleon by endeavouring to merit the title her monarch once
claimed,--of Protector of the North of Germany.
[Sidenote: HANOVER SEIZED.]
Every thing in Germany being thus favourable to the views of France,
Mortier, who had already assembled an army in Holland, and on the
frontiers of Germany, moved forward on Hanover. A considerable force was
collected for resistance under his Royal Highness the Duke of Cambridge
and General Walmoden. It soon appeared, however, that, left to their own
resources, and absolutely unsupported either by England or the forces of
the empire, the electorate was incapable of resistance; and that any
attempt at an ineffectual defence would only serve to aggravate the
distresses of the country, by subjecting the inhabitants to the
extremities of war. In compassion, therefore, to the Hanoverians, the
Duke of Cambridge was induced to leave the hereditary dominions of his
father's house; and General Walmoden had the mortification to find
himself obliged to enter into a convention, by which the capital of the
electorate, and all its strongholds, were to be delivered up to the
French, and the Hanoverian army were to retire behind the Elbe, on
condition not to serve against France and her allies till previously
exchanged.[38]
The British government having refused to ratify this convention of
Suhlingen, as it was termed, the Hanoverian army were summoned to
surrender as prisoners of war;--hard terms, which, upon the determined
resistance of Walmoden, were only thus far softened, that these tried
and faithful troops were to be disbanded, and deliver up their arms,
artillery, horses, and military stores. In a letter to the first consul,
Mortier declares that he granted these mitigated terms from respect to
the misfortunes of a brave enemy; and mentions, in a tone of creditable
feeling, the distress of General Walmoden, and the despair of the fine
regiment of Hanoverian guards, when dismounting from their horses to
surrender them up to the French.
At the same time that they occupied Hanover, the French failed not to
make a further use of their invasion of Germany, by laying forced loans
on the Hanseatic towns, and by other encroachments.
The Prince Royal of Denmark was the only sovereign who showed an
honourable sense of these outrages, by assembling in Holstein an army of
thirty thousand men; but being unsupported by any other power, he was
soon glad to lay aside the attitude which he had assumed. Austria
accepted, as current payment, the declaration of France, that by her
occupation of Hanover she did not intend any act of conquest, or
annexation of territory, but merely proposed to retain the electorate as
a pledge for the isle of Malta, which the English, contrary, as was
alleged, to the faith of treaties, refused to surrender. Prussia,
naturally dissatisfied at seeing the aggressions of France extend to the
neighbourhood of her own territories, was nevertheless obliged to rest
contented with the same excuse.
The French ruler did not confine himself to the occupation of Hanover.
Tarentum, and other seaports of the King of Naples's dominions, were
seized upon, under the same pretext of their being a pledge for the
restoration of Malta. In fact, by thus quartering his troops upon
neutral territories, by whom he took care that they should be paid and
clothed, Napoleon made the war support itself, and spared France the
burden of maintaining a great proportion of his immense army; while
large exactions, not only on the commercial towns, but on Spain,
Portugal, and Naples, and other neutral countries, in the name of loans,
filled his treasury, and enabled him to carry on the expensive plans
which he meditated.
Any one of the separate manœuvres which we have mentioned, would,
before this eventful war, have been considered as a sufficient object
for a long campaign. But the whole united was regarded by Buonaparte
only as side-blows, affecting Britain indirectly through the occupation
of her monarch's family dominions, the embarrassment offered to her
commerce, and the destruction of such independence as had been left to
the continental powers. His great and decisive game remained to be
played--that scheme of invasion to which he had so strongly pledged
himself in his angry dialogue with Lord Whitworth. Here, perhaps, if
ever in his life, Buonaparte, from considerations of prudence, suffered
the period to elapse which would have afforded the best chance for
execution of his venturous project.
It must be in the memory of most who recollect the period, that the
kingdom of Great Britain was seldom less provided against invasion than
at the commencement of this second war; and that an embarkation from the
ports of Holland, if undertaken instantly after the war had broken out,
might have escaped our blockading squadrons, and have at least shown
what a French army could have done on British ground, at a moment when
the alarm was general, and the country in an unprepared state. But it is
probable that Buonaparte himself was as much unprovided as England for
the sudden breach of the treaty of Amiens--an event brought about more
by the influence of passion than of policy; so that its consequences
were as unexpected in his calculations as in those of Great Britain.
Besides, he had not diminished to himself the dangers of the
undertaking, by which he must have staked his military renown, his
power, which he held chiefly as the consequence of his reputation,
perhaps his life, upon a desperate game, which, though he had already
twice contemplated it, he had not yet found hardihood enough seriously
to enter upon.
He now, however, at length bent himself, with the whole strength of his
mind, and the whole force of his empire, to prepare for this final and
decisive undertaking. The gun-boats in the bay of Gibraltar, where calms
are frequent, had sometimes in the course of the former war been able to
do considerable damage to the English vessels of war, when they could
not use their sails. Such small craft, therefore, were supposed the
proper force for covering the intended descent. They were built in
different harbours, and brought together by crawling along the French
shore, and keeping under the protection of the batteries, which were now
established on every cape, almost as if the sea-coast of the Channel on
the French side had been the lines of a besieged city, no one point of
which could with prudence be left undefended by cannon. Boulogne was
pitched upon as the centre port, from which the expedition was to sail.
By incredible exertions, Buonaparte had rendered its harbour and roads
capable of containing two thousand vessels of various descriptions. The
smaller seaports of Vimereux, Ambleteuse, and Etaples, Dieppe, Havre,
St. Valeri, Caen, Gravelines, and Dunkirk, were likewise filled with
shipping. Flushing and Ostend were occupied by a separate flotilla.
Brest, Toulon, and Rochefort, were each the station of as strong a naval
squadron as France had still the means to send to sea.
[Sidenote: ARMY OF ENGLAND.]
A land army was assembled of the most formidable description, whether we
regard the high military character of the troops, the extent and
perfection of their appointments, or their numerical strength. The
coast, from the mouth of the Seine to the Texel, was covered with
forces; and Soult, Ney, Davoust, and Victor, names that were then the
pride and the dread of war, were appointed to command the army of
England, (for that menacing title was once more assumed,) and execute
those manœuvres, planned and superintended by Buonaparte, the issue
of which was to be the blotting out of Britain from the rank of
independent nations.
Far from being alarmed at this formidable demonstration of force,
England prepared for her resistance with an energy becoming her ancient
rank in Europe, and far surpassing in its efforts any extent of military
preparation before heard of in her history. To nearly one hundred
thousand troops of the line, were added eighty thousand and upwards of
militia, which scarce yielded to the regulars in point of discipline.
The volunteer force, by which every citizen was permitted and invited to
add his efforts to the defence of the country, was far more numerous
than during the last war, was better officered also, and rendered every
way more effective. It was computed to amount to three hundred and fifty
thousand men, who, if we regard the shortness of the time and the nature
of the service, had attained considerable practice in the use and
management of their arms. Other classes of men were embodied, and
destined to act as pioneers, drivers of waggons, and in the like
services. On a sudden, the land seemed converted to an immense camp, the
whole nation into soldiers, and the good old King himself into a
general-in-chief. All peaceful considerations appeared for a time to be
thrown aside; and the voice, calling the nation to defend their dearest
rights, sounded not only in Parliament, and in meetings convoked to
second the measures of defence, but was heard in the places of public
amusement, and mingled even with the voice of devotion--not unbecomingly
surely, since to defend our country is to defend our religion.
Beacons were erected in conspicuous points, corresponding with each
other, all around and all through the island; and morning and evening,
one might have said, every eye was turned towards them to watch for the
fatal and momentous signal. Partial alarms were given in different
places from the mistakes to which such arrangements must necessarily be
liable; and the ready spirit which animated every species of troops
where such signals called to arms, was of the most satisfactory
description, and afforded the most perfect assurance, that the heart of
every man was in the cause of his country.
Amidst her preparations by land, England did not neglect or relax her
precautions on the element she calls her own. She covered the ocean with
five hundred and seventy ships of war of various descriptions.
Divisions of her fleet blocked up every French port in the Channel; and
the army destined to invade our shores, might see the British flag
flying in every direction on the horizon, waiting for their issuing from
the harbour, as birds of prey may be seen floating in the air above the
animal which they design to pounce upon. Sometimes the British frigates
and sloops of war stood in, and cannonaded or threw shells into Havre,
Dieppe, Granville, and Boulogne itself. Sometimes the seamen and marines
landed, cut out vessels, destroyed signal-posts, and dismantled
batteries. Such events were trifling, and it was to be regretted that
they cost the lives of gallant men; but although they produced no direct
results of consequence, yet they had their use in encouraging the
spirits of our sailors, and damping the confidence of the enemy, who
must at length have looked forward with more doubt than hope to the
invasion of the English coast, when the utmost vigilance could not
prevent their experiencing insults upon their own.
During this period of menaced attack and arranged defence, Buonaparte
visited Boulogne, and seemed active in preparing his soldiers for the
grand effort. He reviewed them in an unusual manner, teaching them to
execute several manœuvres by night; and experiments were also made
upon the best mode of arranging the soldiers in the flat-bottomed boats,
and of embarking and disembarking them with celerity. Omens were
resorted to for keeping up the enthusiasm which the presence of the
first consul naturally inspired. A Roman battle-axe was said to be found
when they removed the earth to pitch Buonaparte's tent or barrack; and
medals of William the Conqueror were produced, as having been dug up
upon the same honoured spot. These were pleasant bodings, yet perhaps
did not altogether, in the minds of the soldiers, counterbalance the
sense of insecurity impressed on them by the prospect of being packed
together in these miserable chaloupes, and exposed to the fire of an
enemy so superior at sea, that during the chief consul's review of the
fortifications, their frigates stood in shore with composure, and fired
at him and his suite as at a mark. The men who had braved the perils of
the Alps and of the Egyptian deserts, might yet be allowed to feel alarm
at a species of danger which seemed so inevitable, and which they had no
adequate means of repelling by force of arms.
[Sidenote: BOULOGNE FLOTILLA.]
A circumstance which seemed to render the expedition in a great measure
hopeless, was the ease with which the English could maintain a constant
watch upon their operations within the port of Boulogne. The least
appearance of stir or preparation, to embark troops, or get ready for
sea, was promptly sent by signal to the English coast, and the numerous
British cruisers were instantly on the alert to attend their motions.
Nelson had, in fact, during the last war, declared the sailing of a
hostile armament from Boulogne to be a most forlorn undertaking, on
account of cross tides and other disadvantages, together with the
certainty of the flotilla being lost if there were the least wind
west-north-west. "As for rowing," he adds, "that is impossible.--It is
perfectly right to be prepared for a mad government," continued this
most incontestible judge of maritime possibilities; "but with the active
force which has been given me, I may pronounce it almost impracticable."
Buonaparte himself continued to the last to affirm that he was serious
in his attempts to invade Great Britain, and that the scheme was very
practicable. He did not, however, latterly, talk of forcing his way by
means of armed small craft and gun-boats, while the naval forces on each
side were in their present degree of comparative strength, the allowed
risk of miscarriage being as ten to one to that of success;--this
bravade, which he had uttered to Lord Whitworth, involved too much
uncertainty to be really acted upon. At times, long after, he talked
slightingly to his attendants of the causes which prevented his
accomplishing his project of invasion;[39] but when speaking seriously
and in detail, he shows plainly that his sole hope of effecting the
invasion was by assembling such a fleet as should give him the temporary
command of the Channel. This fleet was to consist of fifty vessels,
which, despatched from the various ports of France and Spain, were to
rendezvous at Martinico, and, returning from thence to the British
Channel, protect the flotilla, upon which were to embark one hundred and
fifty thousand men.[40] Napoleon was disappointed in his combinations
respecting the shipping; for as it happened, Admiral Cornwallis lay
before Brest; Pellew observed the harbours of Spain; Nelson watched
Toulon and Genoa; and it would have been necessary for the French and
Spanish navy to fight their way through these impediments, in order to
form a union at Martinico.
It is wonderful to observe how incapable the best understandings become
of forming a rational judgment, where their vanity and self-interest are
concerned, in slurring over the total failure of a favourite scheme.
While talking of the miscarriage of this plan of invasion, Napoleon
gravely exclaimed to Las Cases, "And yet the obstacles which made me
fail were not of human origin--they were the work of the elements. In
the south, the sea undid my plans; in the north, it was the
conflagration of Moscow, the snows and ice that destroyed me. Thus,
water, air, fire, all nature, in short, have been the enemies of a
universal regeneration, commanded by Nature herself. The problems of
Providence are inscrutable."[41]
Independent of the presumptuousness of expressions, by which an
individual being, of the first-rate talents doubtless, but yet born of a
woman, seems to raise himself above the rest of his species, and deem
himself unconquerable save by elementary resistance, the inaccuracy of
the reasoning is worth remarking. Was it the sea which prevented his
crossing to England, or was it the English ships and sailors? He might
as well have affirmed that the hill of Mount St. John, and the wood of
Soignies, and not the army of Wellington, were the obstacles which
prevented him from marching to Brussels.
Before quitting the subject, we may notice, that Buonaparte seems not to
have entertained the least doubts of success, could he have succeeded in
disembarking his army. A single general action was to decide the fate of
England. Five days were to bring Napoleon to London, where he was to
perform the part of William the Third; but with more generosity and
disinterestedness. He was to call a meeting of the inhabitants, restore
them what he calls their rights, and destroy the oligarchical faction. A
few months would not, according to his account, have elapsed, ere the
two nations, late such determined enemies, would have been identified by
their principles, their maxims, their interests. The full explanation of
this gibberish, (for it can be termed no better, even proceeding from
the lips of Napoleon,) is to be found elsewhere, when he spoke a
language more genuine than that of the _Moniteur_ and the bulletins.
"England," he said, "must have ended, by becoming an appendage to the
France of _my_ system. Nature has made it one of our islands, as well as
Oleron and Corsica."[42]
It is impossible not to pursue the train of reflections which Buonaparte
continued to pour forth to the companion of his exile, on the rock of
Saint Helena. When England was conquered, and identified with France in
maxims and principles, according to one form of expression, or rendered
an appendage and dependency, according to another phrase, the reader may
suppose that Buonaparte would have considered his mission as
accomplished. Alas! it was not much more than commenced. "I would have
departed from thence [from subjugated Britain] to carry the work of
European regeneration [that is, the extension of his own arbitrary
authority] from south to north, under the Republican colours, for I was
then chief consul, in the same manner which I was more lately on the
point of achieving it under the monarchical forms."[43] When we find
such ideas retaining hold of Napoleon's imagination, and arising to his
tongue after his irretrievable fall, it is impossible to avoid
exclaiming, Did ambition ever conceive so wild a dream, and had so wild
a vision ever a termination so disastrous and humiliating!
[Sidenote: DEFENSIVE MEASURES OF ENGLAND.]
It may be expected that something should be here said, upon the chances
which Britain would have had of defending herself successfully against
the army of invaders. We are willing to acknowledge that the risk must
have been dreadful; and that Buonaparte, with his genius and his army,
must have inflicted severe calamities upon a country which had so long
enjoyed the blessings of peace. But the people were unanimous in their
purpose of defence, and their forces composed of materials to which
Buonaparte did more justice when he came to be better acquainted with
them. Of the three British nations, the English have since shown
themselves possessed of the same steady valour which won the fields of
Cressy and Agincourt, Blenheim and Minden--the Irish have not lost the
fiery enthusiasm which has distinguished them in all the countries of
Europe--nor have the Scots degenerated from the stubborn courage with
which their ancestors, for two thousand years, maintained their
independence against a superior enemy. Even if London had been lost, we
would not, under so great a calamity, have despaired of the freedom of
the country; for the war would, in all probability, have assumed that
popular and national character which, sooner or later, wears out an
invading army. Neither does the confidence with which Buonaparte affirms
the conviction of his winning the first battle, appear so certainly
well-founded. This, at least, we know, that the resolution of the
country was fully bent up to the hazard; and those who remember the
period will bear us witness, that the desire that the French would make
the attempt, was a general feeling through all classes, because they had
every reason to hope that the issue might be such as for ever to silence
the threat of invasion.[44]
FOOTNOTES:
[36] See _ante_, p. 13.
[37] "Your ministers made a great outcry about the English travellers
that I detained in France; although they themselves had set the example,
by seizing upon all the French vessels and persons on board of them,
upon whom they could lay their hands, before the declaration of war, and
before I had detained the English in France. I said then, if you detain
my travellers at sea, where you can do what you like, I will detain
yours at land, where I am equally powerful. But after this I offered to
release all the English I had seized in France before the declaration of
war, provided you would in like manner release the French and their
property which you had seized on board of the ships. Your ministers
would not."--NAPOLEON, _Voice_, &c., vol. i., p. 326.
[38] Annual Register, vol. xlv., p. 283.
[39] "On what trifles does the fate of empires depend! How petty and
insignificant are our revolutions in the grand organization of the
earth! If, instead of entering upon the Egyptian expedition, I had
invaded Ireland; if some slight derangement of my plans had not thrown
obstacles in the way of my Boulogne enterprise, what would England have
been to-day? What would have been the situation of the Continent, and
the whole political world?"--NAPOLEON, _Las Cases_, tom. iii., p. 330.
[40] See Montholon, tom. ii., p. 224. "The invasion of England," adds
Napoleon, "was always regarded as practicable; and, if once the descent
had been effected, London must infallibly have been taken. The French
being in possession of that capital, a very powerful party would have
arisen against the oligarchy. Did Hannibal look behind him when he
passed the Alps? or Cæsar when he landed in Epirus, or Africa? London is
situated only a few marches from Calais; and the English army, scattered
for the purpose of defending the coasts, could not have joined in time
to have covered that capital after once the descent had been actually
made."
[41] Las Cases, tom. ii., p. 263.
[42] Las Cases, tom. iii., p. 330.
[43] Las Cases, tom. ii., p. 263.
[44] "I commanded a brigade of the army of the coasts, united at this
period against England, and I remember that, when called upon to give my
opinion upon this expedition, I replied, that 'a maritime expedition,
unless it had the superiority at sea, appeared to me to be a
contradiction.' Nevertheless, let any one imagine a French army of
200,000 men, landing upon the English territory, and seizing upon the
immense city of London--would he deny that, even if the liberty of the
country had not been lost, England would have suffered an immense and
perhaps irreparable injury? It cannot be denied that the plan was well
conceived; that the combined fleets of France and Spain were sufficient
to sweep the Channel, and to command there during the time necessary to
seize upon London, and even to have conveyed the whole army back to
France."--LOUIS BUONAPARTE, p. 40.
CHAPTER XXVIII.
_Disaffection begins to arise against Napoleon among the
Soldiery--Purpose of setting up Moreau against him--Character of
Moreau--Causes of his Estrangement from Buonaparte--Pichegru--The
Duke d'Enghien--Georges Cadoudal, Pichegru, and other Royalists,
landed in France--Desperate Enterprise of Georges--Defeated--Arrest
of Moreau--of Pichegru--and Georges--Captain Wright--Duke d'Enghien
seized at Strasburg--Hurried to Paris--Transferred to
Vincennes--Tried by a Military Commission--Condemned--and
Executed--Universal Horror of France and Europe--Buonaparte's
Vindication of his Conduct--His Defence considered--Pichegru found
dead in his Prison--Attempt to explain his Death by charging him
with Suicide--Captain Wright found with his Throat cut--A similar
Attempt made--Georges and other Conspirators Tried--Condemned--and
Executed--Royalists Silenced--Moreau sent into Exile._
[Sidenote: DISAFFECTION OF THE SOLDIERY.]
While Buonaparte was meditating the regeneration of Europe, by means of
conquering, first Britain, and then the northern powers, a course of
opposition to his government, and disaffection to his person, was
beginning to arise even among the soldiers themselves. The acquisition
of the consulate for life was naturally considered as a deathblow to the
Republic; and to that name many of the principal officers of the army,
who had advanced themselves to promotion by means of the Revolution,
still held a grateful attachment. The dissatisfaction of these military
men was the more natural, as some of them might see in Buonaparte
nothing more than a successful adventurer, who had raised himself high
above the heads of his comrades, and now exacted their homage. As
soldiers, they quickly passed from murmurs to threats; and at a festive
meeting, which was prolonged beyond the limits of sobriety, a colonel of
hussars proposed himself as the Brutus to remove this new Cæsar. Being
expert at the use of the pistol, he undertook to hit his mark at fifty
yards distance, during one of those reviews which were perpetually
taking place in presence of the first consul. The affair became known to
the police, but was hushed up as much as possible by the address of
Fouché, who saw that Buonaparte might be prejudiced by the bare act of
making public that such a thing had been agitated, however
unthinkingly.[45]
The discontent spread wide, and was secretly augmented by the agents of
the house of Bourbon; and, besides the constitutional Opposition, whose
voice was at times heard in the Legislative Body and the Tribunate,
there existed malecontents without doors, composed of two parties, one
of whom considered Buonaparte as the enemy of public liberty, whilst the
other regarded him as the sole obstacle to the restoration of the
Bourbons; and the most eager partisans of both began to meditate on the
practicability of removing him by any means, the most violent and the
most secret not excepted. Those among the furious Republicans, or
enthusiastic Royalists, who entertained such sentiments, excused them,
doubtless, to their conscience, by Napoleon's having destroyed the
liberties, and usurped the supreme authority, of the country; thus
palliating the complexion of a crime which can never be vindicated.
These zealots, however, bore no proportion to the great body of
Frenchmen, who, displeased with the usurpation of Buonaparte, and
disposed to overthrow it, if possible, held themselves yet obliged to
refrain from all crooked and indirect practices against his life.
Proposing to destroy his power in the same way in which it had been
built, the first and most necessary task of the discontented party was
to find some military chief, whose reputation might bear to be balanced
against that of Napoleon; and no one could claim such distinction
excepting Moreau. If his campaigns were inferior to those of his great
rival in the lightning-like brilliancy and celerity of their operations,
and in the boldness of combination on which they were founded, they were
executed at smaller loss to his troops, and were less calculated to
expose him to disastrous consequences if they chanced to miscarry.
Moreau was no less celebrated for his retreat through the defiles of the
Black Forest, in 1796, than for the splendid and decisive victory of
Hohenlinden.
Moreau's natural temper was mild, gentle, and accessible to
persuasion--a man of great abilities certainly, but scarcely displaying
the bold and decisive character which he ought to possess, who, in such
times as we write of, aspires to place himself at the head of a faction
in the state. Indeed, it rather would seem that he was forced into that
situation of eminence by the influence of general opinion, joined to
concurring circumstances, than that he deliberately aspired to place
himself there. He was the son of a lawyer of Bretagne,[46] and in every
respect a man who had risen by the Revolution. He was not, therefore,
naturally inclined towards the Bourbons; yet when Pichegru's
communications with the exiled family in 1795 became known to him by the
correspondence which he intercepted, Moreau kept the secret until some
months after,[47] when Pichegru had, with the rest of his party, fallen
under the Revolution of 18th Fructidor, which installed the Directory
of Barras, Reubel, and La Raveillière. After this period, Moreau's
marriage with a lady[48] who entertained sentiments favourable to the
Bourbons, seems to have gone some length in deciding his own political
opinions.
Moreau had lent Buonaparte his sword and countenance on 18th Brumaire;
but he was soon dissatisfied with the engrossing ambition of the new
ruler of France, and they became gradually estranged from each other.
This was not the fault of Buonaparte, who, naturally desirous of
attaching to himself so great a general, showed him considerable
attention, and complained that it was received with coldness. On one
occasion, a most splendid pair of pistols had been sent to the first
consul. "They arrive in a happy time," he said, and presented them to
Moreau, who at that instant entered his presence chamber.[49] Moreau
received the civility as one which he would willingly have dispensed
with. He made no other acknowledgment than a cold bow, and instantly
left the levee.
Upon the institution of the Legion of Honour, one of the grand crosses
was offered to him. "The fool!" said Moreau, "does he not know that I
have belonged to the ranks of honour for these twelve years?" Another
pleasantry on this topic, upon which Buonaparte was very sensitive, was
a company of officers, who dined together with Moreau, voting a
sauce-pan of honour to the general's cook, on account of his merits in
dressing some particular dish. Thus, living estranged from Buonaparte,
Moreau came to be gradually regarded as the head of the disaffected
party in France; and the eyes of all those who disliked Napoleon or his
government, were fixed upon him, as the only individual whose influence
might be capable of balancing that of the chief consul.
Meantime, the peace of Amiens being broken, the British Government, with
natural policy, resolved once more to avail themselves of the state of
public feeling in France, and engage the partisans of royalty in a fresh
attack upon the Consular Government. They were probably in some degree
deceived concerning the strength of that party, which had been much
reduced under Buonaparte's management, and had listened too implicitly
to the promises and projects of agents, who, themselves sanguine beyond
what was warranted, exaggerated even their own hopes in communicating
them to the British ministers. It seems to have been acknowledged, that
little success was to be hoped for, unless Moreau could be brought to
join the conspiracy. This, however, was esteemed possible; and
notwithstanding the disagreement, personal as well as political, which
had subsisted betwixt him and Pichegru, the latter seems to have
undertaken to become the medium of communication betwixt Moreau and the
Royalists. Escaped from the deserts of Cayenne, to which he had been
exiled, Pichegru had for some time found refuge and support in London,
and there openly professed his principles as a Royalist, upon which he
had for a long time acted in secret.
[Sidenote: THE DUKE D'ENGHIEN.]
A scheme was in agitation for raising the Royalists in the west, and the
Duke de Berri was to make a descent on the coast of Picardy, to favour
the insurrection. The Duke d'Enghien, grandson of the Prince of Condé,
fixed his residence under the protection of the Margrave of Baden, at
the chateau of Ettenheim, with the purpose, doubtless, of being ready to
put himself at the head of the Royalists in the east of France, or, if
occasion should offer, in Paris itself. This prince of the house of
Bourbon, the destined inheritor of the name of the great Condé, was in
the flower of youth, handsome, brave, and high-minded. He had been
distinguished for his courage in the emigrant army, which his
grandfather commanded. He gained by his valour the battle of Bortsheim;
and when his army, to whom the French Republicans showed no quarter,
desired to execute reprisals on their prisoners, he threw himself among
them to prevent their violence. "These men," he said "are
Frenchmen--they are unfortunate--I place them under the guardianship of
your honour and your humanity." Such was the princely youth, whose name
must now be written in bloody characters in this part of Napoleon's
history.
Whilst the French princes expected on the frontier the effect of
commotions in the interior of France, Pichegru, Georges Cadoudal, and
about thirty other Royalists of the most determined character, were
secretly landed in France, made their way to the metropolis, and
contrived to find lurking places invisible to the all-seeing police.
There can be no reason to doubt that a part of those agents, and Georges
in particular, saw the greatest obstacle of their enterprise in the
existence of Buonaparte, and were resolved to commence by his
assassination. Pichegru, who was constantly in company with Georges,
cannot well be supposed ignorant of this purpose, although better
befitting the fierce chief of a band of Chouans than the conqueror of
Holland.
In the meantime, Pichegru effected the desired communication with
Moreau, then, as we have said, considered as the chief of the
discontented military men, and the declared enemy of Buonaparte. They
met at least twice; and it is certain that on one of these occasions
Pichegru carried with him Georges Cadoudal, at whose person and plans
Moreau expressed horror, and desired that Pichegru would not again bring
that irrational savage into his company. The cause of his dislike we
must naturally suppose to have been the nature of the measures Georges
proposed, being the last to which a brave and loyal soldier like Moreau
would willingly have resorted to; but Buonaparte, when pretending to
give an exact account of what passed betwixt Moreau and Pichegru,
represents the conduct of the former in a very different point of view.
Moreau, according to this account, informed Pichegru, that while the
first consul lived, he had not the slightest interest in the army, and
that not even his own aides-de-camp would follow him against Napoleon;
but were Napoleon removed, Moreau assured them all eyes would be fixed
on himself alone--that he would then become first consul--that Pichegru
should be second; and was proceeding to make farther arrangements, when
Georges broke in on their deliberations with fury, accused the generals
of scheming their own grandeur, not the restoration of the king, and
declared that to choose betwixt _blue_ and _blue_, (a phrase by which
the Vendéans distinguished the Republicans,)[50] he would as soon have
Buonaparte as Moreau at the head of affairs, and concluded by stating
his own pretensions to be third consul at least. According to this
account, therefore, Moreau was not shocked at the atrocity of Georges'
enterprise, of which he himself had been the first to admit the
necessity, but only disgusted at the share which the Chouan chief
assorted to himself in the partition of the spoil. But we give no credit
whatever to this story. Though nothing could have been so important to
the first consul at the time as to produce proof of Moreau's direct
accession to the plot on his life, no such proof was ever brought
forward; and therefore the statement, we have little doubt, was made up
afterwards, and contains what Buonaparte might think probable, and
desire that others should believe, not what he knew from certain
information, or was able to prove by credible testimony.
The police was speedily alarmed, and in action. Notice had been received
that a band of Royalists had introduced themselves into the capital,
though it was for some time very difficult to apprehend them. Georges,
meanwhile, prosecuted his attempt against the chief consul, and is
believed at one time to have insinuated himself in the disguise of a
menial into the Tuileries, and even into Buonaparte's apartment; but
without finding any opportunity to strike the blow, which his uncommon
strength and desperate resolution might otherwise have rendered
decisive. All the barriers were closed, and a division of Buonaparte's
guards maintained the closest watch, to prevent any one escaping from
the city. By degrees sufficient light was obtained to enable the
government to make a communication to the public upon the existence and
tendency of the conspiracy, which became more especially necessary, when
it was resolved to arrest Moreau himself. This took place on the 15th
February, 1804. He was seized without difficulty or resistance, while
residing quietly at his country-house. On the day following, an order of
the day, signed by Murat, then Governor of Paris, announced the fact to
the citizens, with the additional information, that Moreau was engaged
in a conspiracy with Pichegru, Georges, and others, who were closely
pursued by the police.
The news of Moreau's imprisonment produced the deepest sensation in
Paris; and the reports which were circulated on the subject were by no
means favourable to Buonaparte. Some disbelieved the plot entirely,
while others, less sceptical, considered the chief consul as making a
pretext of the abortive attempt of Pichegru and Georges for the purpose
of sacrificing Moreau, who was at once his rival in military fame, and
the declared opponent of his government. It was even asserted, that
secret agents of Buonaparte in London had been active in encouraging the
attempts of the original conspirators, for the sake of implicating a man
whom the first consul both hated and feared. Of this there was no proof;
but these and other dark suspicions pervaded men's minds, and all eyes
were turned with anxiety upon the issue of the legal investigations
which were about to take place.
Upon the 17th February, the great judge of police, by a report[51] which
was communicated to the Senate, the Legislative Body, and the Tribunate,
denounced Pichegru, Georges, and others, as having returned to France
from their exile, with the purpose of overthrowing the government, and
assassinating the chief consul, and implicated Moreau as having held
communication with them. When the report was read in the Tribunate, the
brother of Moreau arose, and, recalling the merits and services of his
relative, complained of the cruelty of calumniating him without proof,
and demanded for him the privilege of an open and public trial.
"This is a fine display of sensibility," said Curee, one of the
tribunes, in ridicule of the sensation naturally produced by this
affecting incident.
"It is a display of indignation," replied the brother of Moreau, and
left the assembly.
The public bodies, however, did what was doubtless expected of them, and
carried to the foot of the consular throne the most exaggerated
expressions of their interest in the life and safety of him by whom it
was occupied.
[Sidenote: ARREST OF PICHEGRU AND GEORGES.]
Meanwhile, the vigilance of the police, and the extraordinary means
employed by them, accomplished the arrest of almost all the persons
concerned in the plot. A false friend, whom Pichegru had trusted to the
highest degree, betrayed his confidence for a large bribe, and
introduced the gendarmes into his apartment while he was asleep. They
first secured the arms which lay beside him, and then his person, after
a severe struggle. Georges Cadoudal, perhaps a yet more important
capture, fell into the hands of the police soon after. He had been
traced so closely, that at length he dared not enter a house, but spent
many hours of the day and night in driving about Paris in a cabriolet.
On being arrested, he shot one of the gendarmes dead, mortally wounded
another, and had nearly escaped from them all. The other conspirators,
and those accused of countenancing their enterprise, were arrested to
the number of forty persons, who were of very different characters and
conditions; some followers or associates of Georges, and others
belonging to the ancient nobility. Among the latter were Messrs. Armand
and Jules Polignac, Charles de la Rivière, and other Royalists of
distinction. Chance had also thrown into Buonaparte's power a victim of
another description. Captain Wright, the commander of a British brig of
war, had been engaged in putting ashore on the coast of Morbihan,
Pichegru and some of his companions. Shortly afterwards, his vessel was
captured by a French vessel of superior force. Under pretence that his
evidence was necessary to the conviction of the French conspirators, he
was brought up to Paris, committed to the Temple, and treated with a
rigour which became a prelude to the subsequent tragedy.
It might have been supposed, that among so many prisoners, enough of
victims might have been selected to atone with their lives for the
insurrection which they were accused of meditating; nay, for the attempt
which was alleged to be designed against the person of the first consul.
Most unhappily for his fame, Napoleon thought otherwise; and, from
causes which we shall hereafter endeavour to appreciate, sought to give
a fuller scope to the gratification of his revenge, than the list of his
captives, though containing several men of high rank, enabled him to
accomplish.
[Sidenote: THE DUKE D'ENGHIEN.]
We have observed, that the residence of the Duke d'Enghien upon the
French frontier was to a certain degree connected with the enterprise
undertaken by Pichegru, so far as concerned the proposed insurrection of
the royalists in Paris. This we infer from the duke's admission, that he
resided at Ettenheim in the expectation of having soon a part of
importance to play in France.[52] This was perfectly vindicated by his
situation and connexions. But that the duke participated in, or
countenanced in the slightest degree, the meditated attempt on
Buonaparte's life, has never even been alleged, and is contrary to all
the proof led in the case, and especially to the sentiments impressed
upon him by his grandfather, the Prince of Condé.[53] He lived in great
privacy, and amused himself principally with hunting. A pension allowed
him by England was his only means of support.
On the evening of the 14th March, a body of French soldiers and
gendarmes, commanded by Colonel Ordenner, acting under the direction of
Caulaincourt, afterwards called Duke of Vicenza, suddenly entered the
territory of Baden, a power with whom France was in profound peace, and
surrounded the chateau in which the unfortunate prince resided. The
descendant of Condé sprung to his arms, but was prevented from using
them by one of his attendants, who represented the force of the
assailants as too great to be resisted. The soldiers rushed into the
apartment, and, presenting their pistols, demanded to know which was the
Duke d'Enghien. "If you desire to arrest him," said the Duke, "you ought
to have his description in your warrant."--"Then we must seize on you
all," replied the officer in command; and the prince, with his little
household, were arrested and carried to a mill at some distance from the
house, where he was permitted to receive some clothes and necessaries.
Being now recognised, he was transferred, with his attendants, to the
citadel of Strasburg, and presently afterwards separated from the
gentlemen of his household, with the exception of his aide-de-camp, the
Baron de St. Jacques. He was allowed to communicate with no one. He
remained a close prisoner for three days; but on the 18th, betwixt one
and two in the morning, he was obliged to rise and dress himself
hastily, being only informed that he was about to commence a journey.
He requested the attendance of his valet-de-chambre, but was answered
that it was unnecessary. The linen which he was permitted to take with
him amounted to two shirts only; so nicely had his worldly wants been
calculated and ascertained. He was transported with the utmost speed and
secrecy towards Paris, where he arrived on the 20th; and, after having
been committed for a few hours to the Temple, was transferred to the
ancient Gothic castle of Vincennes, about a mile from the city, long
used as a state prison, but whose walls never received a more
illustrious or a more innocent victim. There he was permitted to take
some repose; and, as if the favour had only been granted for the purpose
of being withdrawn, he was awaked at midnight, and called upon to
sustain an interrogatory on which his life depended, and to which he
replied with the utmost composure. On the ensuing night, at the same
dead hour, he was brought before the pretended court. The law enjoined
that he should have had a defender appointed to plead his cause. But
none such was allotted to him.
The inquisitors before whom he was hurried, formed a military commission
of eight officers, having General Hulin as their president. They were,
as the proceedings express it, named by Buonaparte's brother-in-law
Murat, then governor of Paris. Though necessarily exhausted with fatigue
and want of rest, the Duke d'Enghien performed in this melancholy scene
a part worthy of the last descendant of the great Condé. He avowed his
name and rank, and the share which he had taken in the war against
France, but denied all knowledge of Pichegru or of his conspiracy. The
interrogations ended by his demanding an audience of the chief consul.
"My name," he said, "my rank, my sentiments, and the peculiar distress
of my situation, lead me to hope that my request will not be refused."
The military commissioners paused and hesitated--nay, though selected
doubtless as fitted for the office, they were even affected by the whole
behaviour, and especially by the intrepidity, of the unhappy prince. But
Savary, then chief of the police, stood behind the president's chair,
and controlled their sentiments of compassion. When they proposed to
further the prisoner's request of an audience of the first consul,
Savary cut the discussion short, by saying, that was inexpedient. At
length they reported their opinion, that the Duke d'Enghien was guilty
of having fought against the Republic, intrigued with England, and
maintained intelligence in Strasburg, for the purpose of seizing the
place;--great part of which allegations, and especially the last, was in
express contradiction to the only proof adduced, the admission, namely,
of the prisoner himself. The report being sent to Buonaparte to know his
farther pleasure, the court received for answer their own letter, marked
with the emphatic words, "Condemned to death." Napoleon was obeyed by
his satraps with Persian devotion. The sentence was pronounced, and the
prisoner received it with the same intrepid gallantry which
distinguished him through the whole of the bloody scene. He requested
the aid of a confessor. "Would you die like a monk?" is said to have
been the insulting reply. The duke, without noticing the insult, knelt
down for a minute, and seemed absorbed in profound devotion.
"Let us go," he said, when he arose from his knees. All was in readiness
for the execution; and, as if to stamp the trial as a mere mockery, the
grave had been prepared ere the judgment of the court was
pronounced.[54] Upon quitting the apartment in which the pretended trial
had taken place, the prince was conducted by torch-light down a
winding-stair, which seemed to descend to the dungeons of the ancient
castle.
"Am I to be immured in an oubliette?" he said, naturally recollecting
the use which had sometimes been made of those tombs for the
living.--"No, Monseigneur," answered the soldier he addressed, in a
voice interrupted by sobs, "be tranquil on that subject." The stair led
to a postern, which opened into the castle ditch, where, as we have
already said, a grave was dug, beside which were drawn up a party of the
gendarmes d'élite. It was near six o'clock in the morning, and day had
dawned. But as there was a heavy mist on the ground, several torches and
lamps mixed their pale and ominous light with that afforded by the
heavens,--a circumstance which seems to have given rise to the
inaccurate report, that a lantern was tied to the button of the victim,
that his slayers might take the more certain aim. Savary was again in
attendance, and had taken his place upon a parapet which commanded the
place of execution. The victim was placed, the fatal word was given by
the future Duke de Rovigo, the party fired, and the prisoner fell. The
body, dressed as it was, and without the slightest attention to the
usual decencies of sepulture, was huddled into the grave with as little
ceremony as common robbers use towards the carcases of the murdered.
Paris learned with astonishment and fear the singular deed which had
been perpetrated so near her walls. No act had ever excited more
universal horror, both in France and in foreign countries, and none has
left so deep a stain on the memory of Napoleon. If there were farther
proof necessary of the general opinion of mankind on the subject, the
anxiety displayed by Savary, Hulin, and the other subaltern agents in
this shameful transaction to diminish their own share in it, or transfer
it to others, would be sufficient evidence of the deep responsibility to
which they felt themselves subjected.
There is but justice, however, in listening to the defence which
Buonaparte set up for himself when in Saint Helena, especially as it
appeared perfectly convincing to Las Cases, his attendant who, though
reconciled to most of his master's actions, had continued to regard the
Duke d'Enghien's death as so great a blot upon his escutcheon, that he
blushed even when Napoleon himself introduced the subject.[55]
His exculpation seems to have assumed a different and inconsistent
character, according to the audience to whom it was stated. Among his
intimate friends and followers, he appears to have represented the whole
transaction as an affair not of his own device, but which was pressed
upon him by surprise by his ministers. "I was seated," he said, "alone,
and engaged in finishing my coffee, when they came to announce to me the
discovery of some new machination. They represented it was time to put
an end to such horrible attempts, by washing myself in the blood of one
amongst the Bourbons; and they suggested the Duke d'Enghien as the most
proper victim." Buonaparte proceeds to say, that he did not know exactly
who the Duke d'Enghien was, far less that he resided so near France as
to be only three leagues from the Rhine. This was explained. "In that
case," said Napoleon, "he ought to be arrested." His prudent ministers
had foreseen this conclusion. They had the whole scheme laid, and the
orders ready drawn up for Buonaparte's signature; so that, according to
this account, he was hurried into the enormity by the zeal of those
about him, or perhaps in consequence of their private views and
mysterious intrigues. He also charged Talleyrand with concealing from
him a letter,[56] written by the unfortunate prisoner, in which he
offered his services to Buonaparte, but which was intercepted by the
minister. If this had reached him in time, he intimates that he would
have spared the prince's life. To render this statement probable, he
denies generally that Josephine had interested herself to the utmost to
engage him to spare the duke; although this has been affirmed by the
testimony of such as declared, that they received the fact from the
Empress's own lips.[57]
It is unfortunate for the truth of this statement and the soundness of
the defence which it contains, that neither Talleyrand, nor any human
being save Buonaparte himself, could have the least interest in the
death of the Duke d'Enghien. That Napoleon should be furious at the
conspiracies of Georges and Pichegru and should be willing to avenge the
personal dangers he incurred; and that he should be desirous to
intimidate the family of Bourbon, by "washing himself," as he expresses
it, "in the blood of one of their House," was much in character. But
that the sagacious Talleyrand should have hurried on a cruel proceeding,
in which he had no earthly interest, is as unlikely, as that, if he had
desired to do so, he could have been able to elicit from Buonaparte the
powers necessary for an act of so much consequence, without his master
having given the affair, in all its bearings, the most full and ample
consideration. It may also be noticed, that besides transferring a part
at least of the guilt from himself, Buonaparte might be disposed to
gratify his revenge against Talleyrand, by stigmatizing him, from St.
Helena, with a crime the most odious to his new sovereigns of the House
of Bourbon. Lastly, the existence of the letter above mentioned has
never been proved, and it is inconsistent with every thought and
sentiment of the Duke d'Enghien. It is besides said to have been dated
from Strasburg; and the duke's aide-de-camp, the Baron de St. Jacques,
has given his testimony that he was never an instant separated from his
patron, during his confinement in that citadel; and that the duke
neither wrote a letter to Buonaparte nor to any one else. But, after
all, if Buonaparte had actually proceeded in this bloody matter upon the
instigation of Talleyrand, it cannot be denied, that, as a man knowing
right from wrong, he could not hope to transfer to his counsellor the
guilt of the measures which he executed at his recommendation. The
murder, like the rebellion of Absalom, was not less a crime, even
supposing it recommended and facilitated by the unconscientious counsels
of a modern Achitophel.
Accordingly, Napoleon has not chosen to trust to this defence; but,
inconsistently with this pretence of being hurried into the measure by
Talleyrand, he has, upon other occasions, broadly and boldly avowed that
it was in itself just and necessary; that the Duke d'Enghien was
condemned by the laws, and suffered execution accordingly under their
sanction.
It is an easy task to show, that even according to the law of France,
jealous and severe as it was in its application to such subjects, there
existed no right to take the life of the duke. It is true he was an
emigrant, and the law denounced the penalty of death against such of
these as should return to France with arms in their hands. But the duke
did not so return--nay, his returning at all was not an act of his own,
but the consequence of violence exercised on his person. He was in a
more favourable case than even those emigrants whom storms had cast on
their native shore, and whom Buonaparte himself considered as objects of
pity, not of punishment. He had indeed borne arms against France; but as
a member of the House of Bourbon, he was not, and could not be
accounted, a subject of Buonaparte, having left the country before his
name was heard of; nor could he be considered as in contumacy against
the state of France, for he, like the rest of the royal family, was
specially excluded from the benefits of the amnesty which invited the
return of the less distinguished emigrants. The act by which he was
trepanned, and brought within the compass of French power, not of French
law, was as much a violation of the rights of nations, as the
precipitation with which the pretended trial followed the arrest, and
the execution the trial, was an outrage upon humanity. On the trial no
witnesses were produced, nor did any investigation take place, saving by
the interrogation of the prisoner. Whatever points of accusation,
therefore, are not established by the admission of the duke himself,
must be considered as totally unproved. Yet this unconscientious
tribunal not only found their prisoner guilty of having borne arms
against the Republic, which he readily admitted, but of having placed
himself at the head of a party of French emigrants in the pay of
England, and carried on machinations for surprising the city of
Strasburg; charges which he himself positively denied, and which were
supported by no proof whatever.
Buonaparte, well aware of the total irregularity of the proceedings in
this extraordinary case, seems, on some occasions, to have wisely
renounced any attempt to defend what he must have been convinced was
indefensible, and has vindicated his conduct upon general grounds, of a
nature well worthy of notice. It seems that, when he spoke of the death
of the Duke d'Enghien among his attendants, he always chose to represent
it as a case falling under the ordinary forms of law, in which all
regularity was observed, and where, though he might be accused of
severity, he could not be charged with violation of justice. This was
safe language to hearers from whom he was sure to receive neither
objection nor contradiction, and is just an instance of an attempt, on
the part of a conscientiously guilty party, to establish, by repeated
asseverations, an innocence which was inconsistent with fact. But with
strangers, from whom replies and argument might be expected, Napoleon
took broader grounds. He alleged the death of the Duke d'Enghien to be
an act of self-defence, a measure of state policy, arising out of the
natural rights of humanity, by which a man, to save his own life, is
entitled to take away that of another. "I was assailed," he said, "on
all hands by the enemies whom the Bourbons raised up against me;
threatened with air-guns, infernal machines, and deadly stratagems of
every kind. I had no tribunal on earth to which I could appeal for
protection, therefore I had a right to protect myself; and by putting to
death one of those whose followers threatened my life, I was entitled to
strike a salutary terror into the others."[58]
We have no doubt that, in this argument, which is in the original much
extended, Buonaparte explained his real motives; at least we can only
add to them the stimulus of obstinate resentment, and implacable
revenge. But the whole resolves itself into an allegation of that state
necessity, which has been justly called the Tyrant's plea, and which has
always been at hand to defend, or rather to palliate, the worst crimes
of sovereigns. The prince may be lamented, who is exposed, from civil
disaffection, to the dagger of the assassin, but his danger gives him no
right to turn such a weapon even against the individual person by whom
it is pointed at him. Far less could the attempt of any violent
partisans of the House of Bourbon authorise the first consul to take, by
a suborned judgment, and the most precipitate procedure, the life of a
young prince, against whom the accession to the conspiracies of which
Napoleon complained had never been alleged, far less proved. In every
point of view, the act was a murder; and the stain of the Duke
d'Enghien's blood must remain indelibly upon Napoleon Buonaparte.
With similar sophistry, he attempted to daub over the violation of the
neutral territory of Baden, which was committed for the purpose of
enabling his emissaries to seize the person of his unhappy victim. This,
according to Buonaparte, was a wrong which was foreign to the case of
the Duke d'Enghien, and concerned the sovereign of Baden alone. As that
prince never complained of this violation, "the plea," he contended,
"could not be used by any other person."[59] This was merely speaking as
one who has power to do wrong. To whom was the Duke of Baden to
complain, or what reparation could he expect by doing so? He was in the
condition of a poor man, who suffers injustice at the hands of a wealthy
neighbour, because he has no means to go to law, but whose acquiescence
under the injury cannot certainly change its character, or render that
invasion just which is in its own character distinctly otherwise. The
passage may be marked as showing Napoleon's unhappy predilection to
consider public measures not according to the immutable rules of right
and wrong, but according to the opportunities which the weakness of one
kingdom may afford to the superior strength of another.[60]
It may be truly added, that even the pliant argument of state necessity
was far from justifying this fatal deed. To have retained the Duke
d'Enghien a prisoner, as a hostage who might be made responsible for the
Royalists' abstaining from their plots, might have had in it some touch
of policy; but the murder of the young and gallant prince, in a way so
secret and so savage, had a deep moral effect upon the European world,
and excited hatred against Buonaparte wherever the tale was told. In the
well-known words of Fouché, the duke's execution was worse than a moral
crime--it was a political blunder.[61] It had this consequence, most
unfortunate for Buonaparte, that it seemed to stamp his character as
bloody and unforgiving; and in so far prepared the public mind to
receive the worst impressions, and authorised the worst suspicions, when
other tragedies of a more mysterious character followed that of the last
of the race of Condé.[62]
[Sidenote: DEATH OF PICHEGRU.]
The Duke d'Enghien's execution took place on the 21st March; on the 7th
April following, General Pichegru was found dead in his prison. A black
handkerchief was wrapped round his neck, which had been tightened by
twisting round a short stick inserted through one of the folds. It was
asserted that he had turned this stick with his own hands, until he lost
the power of respiring, and then, by laying his head on the pillow, had
secured the stick in its position. It did not escape the public, that
this was a mode of terminating life far more likely to be inflicted by
the hands of others than those of the deceased himself. Surgeons were
found, but men, it is said, of small reputation, to sign a report upon
the state of the body, in which they affirm that Pichegru had died by
suicide; yet as he must have lost animation and sense so soon as he had
twisted the stick to the point of strangulation, it seems strange he
should not have then unclosed his grasp on the fatal tourniquet, which
he used as the means of self-destruction. In that case the pressure must
have relaxed, and the fatal purpose have remained unaccomplished. No
human eye could see into the dark recesses of a state prison, but there
were not wanting many who entertained a total disbelief of Pichegru's
suicide. It was argued that the first consul did not dare to bring
before a public tribunal, and subject to a personal interrogatory, a man
of Pichegru's boldness and presence of mind--it was said, also, that his
evidence would have been decisively favourable to Moreau--that the
citizens of Paris were many of them attached to Pichegru's person--that
the soldiers had not forgotten his military fame--and, finally, it was
reported, that in consideration of these circumstances, it was judged
most expedient to take away his life in prison. Public rumour went so
far as to name, as the agents in the crime, four of those Mamelukes, of
whom Buonaparte had brought a small party from Egypt, and whom he used
to have about his person as matter of parade. This last assertion had a
strong impression on the multitude, who are accustomed to think, and
love to talk, about the mutes and bowstrings of Eastern despotism. But
with well-informed persons, its improbability threw some discredit on
the whole accusation. The state prisons of France must have furnished
from their officials enough of men as relentless and dexterous in such a
commission as those Eastern strangers, whose unwonted appearance in
these gloomy regions must have at once shown a fatal purpose, and
enabled every one to trace it to Buonaparte.[63]
A subsequent catastrophe, of nearly the same kind, increased by its
coincidence the dark suspicions which arose out of the circumstances
attending the death of Pichegru.
Captain Wright, from whose vessel Pichegru and his companions had
disembarked on the French coast, had become, as we have said, a prisoner
of war, his ship being captured by one of much superior force, and after
a most desperate defence. Under pretext that his evidence was necessary
to the conviction of Pichegru and Georges, he was brought to Paris, and
lodged a close prisoner in the Temple. It must also be mentioned, that
Captain Wright had been an officer under Sir Sidney Smith, and that the
mind of Buonaparte was tenaciously retentive of animosity against those
who had aided to withstand a darling purpose, or diminish and obscure
the military renown, which was yet more dear to him. The treatment of
Captain Wright was--must have been severe, even if it extended no
farther than solitary imprisonment; but reports went abroad, that
torture was employed to bring the gallant seaman to such confessions as
might suit the purposes of the French Government. This belief became
very general, when it was heard that Wright, like Pichegru, was found
dead in his apartment, with his throat cut from ear to ear, the result,
according to the account given by Government, of his own impatience and
despair. This official account of the second suicide committed by a
state prisoner, augmented and confirmed the opinions entertained
concerning the death of Pichegru, which it so closely resembled. The
unfortunate Captain Wright was supposed to have been sacrificed, partly
perhaps to Buonaparte's sentiments of petty vengeance, but chiefly to
conceal, within the walls of the Temple, the evidence which his person
would have exhibited in a public court of justice, of the dark and cruel
practices by which confession was sometimes extorted.
Buonaparte always alleged his total ignorance concerning the fate of
Pichegru and Wright, and affirmed upon all occasions, that they
perished, so far as he knew, by their own hands, and not by those of
assassins. No proof has ever been produced to contradict his assertion;
and so far as he is inculpated upon these heads, his crime can be only
matter of strong suspicion. But it was singular that this rage for
suicide should have thus infected the state prisons of Paris, and that
both these men, determined enemies of the Emperor, should have adopted
the resolution of putting themselves to death, just when that event was
most convenient to their oppressor. Above all, it must be confessed,
that, by his conduct towards the Duke d'Enghien, Buonaparte had lost
that fairness of character to which he might otherwise have appealed, as
in itself an answer to the presumptions formed against him. The man who,
under pretext of state necessity, ventured on such an open violation of
the laws of justice, ought not to complain if he is judged capable, in
every case of suspicion, of sacrificing the rights of humanity to his
passions or his interest. He himself has affirmed, that Wright died,
long before it was announced to the public, but has given no reason why
silence was preserved with respect to the event.[64] The Duke de Rovigo,
also denying all knowledge of Wright's death, acknowledges that it was
a dark and mysterious subject, and intimates his belief that Fouché was
at the bottom of the tragedy.[65] In Fouché's real or pretended Memoirs,
the subject is not mentioned. We leave, in the obscurity in which we
found it, a dreadful tale, of which the truth cannot, in all
probability, be known, until the secrets of all hearts shall be laid
open.
[Sidenote: TRIAL OF CADOUDAL AND OTHERS.]
Rid of Pichegru, by his own hand or his jailor's, Buonaparte's
government was now left to deal with Georges and his comrades, as well
as with Moreau. With the first it was an easy task, for the Chouan chief
retained, in the court of criminal justice before which he was conveyed,
the same fearless tone of defiance which he had displayed from the
beginning. He acknowledged that he came to Paris for the sake of making
war personally on Napoleon, and seemed only to regret his captivity, as
it had disconcerted his enterprise. He treated the judges with cool
contempt, and amused himself by calling Thuriot, who conducted the
process, and who had been an old Jacobin, by the name of Monsieur
Tue-Roi. There was no difficulty in obtaining sentence of death against
Georges and nineteen of his associates; amongst whom was Armand de
Polignac, for whose life his brother affectionately tendered his own.
Armand de Polignac, however, with seven others, were pardoned by
Buonaparte; or rather banishment in some cases, and imprisonment in
others, were substituted for a capital punishment. Georges and the rest
were executed, and died with the most determined firmness.
The discovery and suppression of this conspiracy seems to have produced,
in a great degree, the effects expected by Buonaparte. The Royal party
became silent and submissive, and, but that their aversion to the reign
of Napoleon showed itself in lampoons, satires, and witticisms, which
were circulated in their evening parties, it could hardly have been
known to exist. Offers were made to Buonaparte to rid him of the
remaining Bourbons, in consideration of a large sum of money; but with
better judgment than had dictated his conduct of late, he rejected the
proposal. His interest, he was now convinced, would be better consulted
by a line of policy which would reduce the exiled family to a state of
insignificance, than by any rash and violent proceedings, which must
necessarily draw men's attention, and, in doing so, were likely to
interest them in behalf of the sufferers, and animate them against their
powerful oppressor. With this purpose, the names of the exiled family
were, shortly after this period, carefully suppressed in all periodical
publications, and, with one or two exceptions, little allusion to their
existence can be traced in the pages of the official journal of France;
and, unquestionably, the policy was wisely adopted towards a people so
light, and animated so intensely with the interest of the moment, as the
French, to whom the present is a great deal, the future much less, and
the past nothing at all.
Though Georges's part of the conspiracy was disposed of thus easily, the
trial of Moreau involved a much more dangerous task. It was found
impossible to procure evidence against him, beyond his own admission
that he had seen Pichegru twice; and this admission was coupled with a
positive denial that he had engaged to be participant in his schemes. A
majority of the judges seemed disposed to acquit him entirely, but were
cautioned by the president Hemart, that, by doing so, they would force
the government upon violent measures. Adopting this hint, and willing to
compromise matters, they declared Moreau guilty, but not to the extent
of a capital crime. He was subjected to imprisonment for two years; but
the soldiers continuing to interest themselves in his fate, Fouché, who
about this time was restored to the administration of police, interceded
warmly in his favour,[66] and seconded the applications of Madame
Moreau, for a commutation of her husband's sentence.[67] His doom of
imprisonment was therefore exchanged for that of exile; a mode of
punishment safer for Moreau, considering the late incidents in the
prisons of state; and more advantageous for Buonaparte, as removing
entirely from the thoughts of the republican party, and of the soldiers,
a leader, whose military talents brooked comparison with his own, and to
whom the public eye would naturally be turned when any cause of
discontent with their present government might incline them to look
elsewhere. Buonaparte thus escaped from the consequences of this
alarming conspiracy; and, like a patient whose disease is brought to a
favourable crisis by the breaking of an imposthume, he attained
additional strength by the discomfiture of those secret enemies.
FOOTNOTES:
[45] Fouché, tom. i., p. 231.
[46] Moreau was born at Morlaix in 1763.
[47] "If Moreau's friendship for Pichegru led him into this culpable
compromise, he ought not to have communicated these papers at a time
when a knowledge of their contents could no longer be serviceable to the
state; for, after the transactions of the 18th Fructidor, that party was
defeated, and Pichegru was in chains."--NAPOLEON, _Montholon_, tom. i.,
p. 43.
[48] "The Empress Josephine married Moreau to Mademoiselle Hulot, a
creole of the Isle of France. This young lady had an ambitious mother,
who governed her, and soon governed her husband also. She changed his
character; he was no longer the same man; he began to intrigue; his
house became the rendezvous of all the disaffected. For a long time the
first consul refused to notice this imprudent conduct; but at length he
said, 'I wash my hands of him; let him run his head against the pillars
of the Tuileries.'"--NAPOLEON, _Montholon_, tom. i., p. 53.
[49] "Moreau went to Paris during the armistice of Pahrsdorff, and
alighted unexpectedly at the Tuileries. Whilst he was engaged with the
first consul, the minister at war, Carnot, arrived from Versailles with
a pair of pistols, enriched with diamonds, of very great value: they
were intended for the first consul, who, taking the pistols, presented
them to Moreau, saying, 'They come very opportunely.' This was not a
thing contrived for effect."--NAPOLEON, _Montholon_, tom. i., p. 52.
[50] See Mémoires de Savary, tom. ii., p. 52.
[51] See Annual Register, vol. xlvi., p. 616.
[52] The passage alluded to is in the Duke of Rovigo's (Savary's)
Vindication of his own Conduct. At the same time, no traces of such an
admission are to be found in the interrogations, as printed elsewhere.
It is also said, that when the duke (then at Ettenheim) first heard of
the conspiracy of Pichegru, he alleged that it must have been only a
pretended discovery. "Had there been such an intrigue in reality," he
said, "my father and grandfather would have let me know something of the
matter, that I might provide for my safety." It may be added, that if he
had been really engaged in that conspiracy, it is probable that he would
have retired from the vicinity of the French territory on the scheme
being discovered.--S.
[53] A remarkable letter from the Prince of Condé to the Comte d'Artois,
dated 24th January, 1802, contains the following passage, which we
translate literally:--"The Chevalier de Roll will give you an account of
what has passed here yesterday. A man of a very simple and gentle
exterior arrived the night before, and having travelled, as he affirmed,
on foot, from Paris to Calais, had an audience of me about eleven in the
forenoon, and distinctly offered to rid us of the usurper by the
shortest method possible. I did not give him time to finish the details
of his project, but rejected the proposal with horror, assuring him that
you, if present, would do the same. I told him, we should always be the
enemies of him who had arrogated to himself the power and the throne of
our Sovereign, until he should make restitution: that we had combated
the usurper by open force, and would do so again if opportunity offered;
but that we would never employ that species of means which only became
the Jacobin party; and if that faction should meditate such a crime,
assuredly we would not be their accomplices." This discourse the prince
renewed to the secret agent in the presence of the Chevalier de Roll, as
a confidential friend of the Comte d'Artois, and, finally, advised the
man instantly to leave England, as, in case of his being arrested, the
prince would afford him no countenance or protection. The person to whom
the Prince of Condé addressed sentiments so worthy of himself and of his
great ancestor, afterwards proved to be an agent of Buonaparte,
despatched to sound the opinions of the Princes of the House of Bourbon,
and if possible to implicate them in such a nefarious project as should
justly excite public indignation against them.--S.
[54] Savary has denied this. It is not of much consequence. The illegal
arrest--the precipitation of the mock trial--the disconformity of the
sentence from the proof--the hurry of the execution--all prove that the
unfortunate prince was doomed to die long before he was brought before
the military commission.--S.--See, in Savary's Memoirs, tom. ii, p. 221,
the Supplementary Chapter, "On the Catastrophe of the Duke d'Enghien."
[55] The reasoning and sentiments of Buonaparte on this subject are
taken from the work of Las Cases, tom. iv., partie 7ieme, p. 249, where
they are given at great length.--S.
[56] Napoleon in Exile, vol. i., p. 335.
[57] "The idea of the death of the Duke d'Enghien never crossed the
first consul's mind, till he was astonished and confounded by the
tidings communicated to him by Savary of his execution. The question was
not whether he should be put to death, but whether he should be put on
his trial. Joseph, Josephine, Cambacérès, Berthier, earnestly
expostulated with the chief magistrate against it. Joseph, who was
living at Morfontaine, and transiently in town, on the 20th of March,
the day the Duke d'Enghien was taken a prisoner to Paris, spoke to his
brother in his behalf, warmly urging the defence of the grandson of the
Prince of Condé, who, he reminded his brother, had seven times crowned
him for as many distinctions gained at the Royal School; to which
expostulation the first consul's reply affords a curious proof of the
state of his mind at the moment. His answer was given by declaiming the
following passage from a speech of Cæsar, in Corneille's tragedy of _La
Mort de Pompée_:--
'Votre zèle est faux, si seul il redoutait
Ce que le monde entier à pleins vœux souhaitait:
Et s'il vous a donné ces craintes trop subtiles,
Qui m'ôtent tout le fruit de nos guerres civiles,
Où l'honneur seul m'engage, et que pour terminer
Je ne veux que celui de vaincre et pardonner;
Où mes plus dangereux et plus grands adversaires,
Sitôt qu'ils sont vaincus, ne sont plus que mes frères;
Et mon ambition ne va qu'à les forcer,
Ayant domté leur haine, à vivre et m'embrasser.
Oh! combien d'allegresse une si triste guerre
Aurait-elle laisée dessus toute la terre,
Si l'on voyait marcher dessus un même char,
Vainqueurs de leur discorde, et Pompée et César.'"
JOSEPH BUONAPARTE.
[58] See Las Cases, tom. iv., p. 269.
[59] See Las Cases, tom. iv., p. 271.
[60] See, in the Appendix to this volume, No. II., "FURTHER PARTICULARS
CONCERNING THE ARREST, TRIAL, AND DEATH OF THE DUKE D'ENGHIEN."
[61] "I was not the person who hesitated to express himself with the
least restraint, respecting this violence against the rights of nations
and humanity. 'It is more than a crime,' I said, 'it is a political
blunder;' words which I record, because they have been repeated and
attributed to others."--FOUCHÉ, tom. i., p. 266.
[62] "I deplore as much as any man can possibly do, the catastrophe of
the Duke d'Enghien; but as Napoleon has himself spoken of it, it does
not become me to add another word. I shall only observe, that this
affair is far from having been cleared up--that it was impossible that
my brother should have brought the prince to Paris to be immolated--that
he who established a Bourbon in Tuscany, had quite a contrary design,
and one which could but be favourable; else why cause so distinguished a
prince to make a journey to Paris, when his presence in traversing
France could but be dangerous? If it be asked, why the commendable
design attributed to Napoleon was not followed up, and was so cruelly
changed, I cannot explain: but I am persuaded that impartial history
will one day reveal this secret."--LOUIS BUONAPARTE, p. 40.
[63] "M. de Bourrienne does not scruple to charge with a frightful crime
the man whom he calls the friend of his youth, in whose service he had
been for years, and by whom he sought to be again employed, as long as
fortune was on his side. In my conscience, I believe there never existed
a man less capable of committing such a crime than Napoleon; yet it is
he whom the schoolfellow of Brienne dares to accuse. On the morning of
Pichegru's death, I was in the first consul's cabinet in the Tuileries,
searching for some papers, when Savary was announced, and I heard him
detail the particulars of the suicide, precisely as they were afterwards
published. I read on Napoleon's countenance the surprise which the event
created, and little imagined that there were men so base as to charge
him with so detestable and uncalled-for a murder; for the meeting
between Pichegru and Moreau had been fully established."--JOSEPH
BUONAPARTE.--"What advantage could accrue to me from Pichegru's
assassination?--a man who was evidently guilty, against whom every proof
was ready, and whose condemnation was certain. The fact is, that he
found himself in a hopeless situation; his high mind could not bear to
contemplate the infamy of a public execution, he despaired of my
clemency, or disdained to appeal to it, and put an end to his
existence."--NAPOLEON, _Las Cases_, tom. iv., p. 258.
[64] See Napoleon in Exile, vol. ii., p. 215.
[65] "When, as minister of the police, the sources of information were
open to me, I ascertained that Wright cut his throat in despair, after
reading the account of the capitulation of the Austrian general, Mack,
at Ulm, that is, while Napoleon was engaged in the campaign of
Austerlitz. Can any one, in fact, without alike insulting common sense
and glory, admit that the Emperor had attached so much importance to the
destruction of a scurvy lieutenant of the English navy, as to send from
one of his most glorious fields of battle the order for his destruction?
It has been added, that it was I who received from him this commission:
now I never quitted him for a single day during the whole campaign, from
his departure from Paris till his return."--SAVARY, tom. ii., p. 61.
[66] Mémoires de Fouché, tom. i., p. 267.
[67] "I was the person whom the first consul sent to him in the Temple
to communicate his consent, and to make arrangements with him for his
departure. I gave him my own carriage, and the first consul paid all the
expenses of his journey to Barcelona. The general expressed a wish to
see Madame Moreau; I went myself to fetch her, and brought her to the
Temple."--SAVARY, tom. ii., p. 66.
CHAPTER XXIX.
_General Indignation of Europe in consequence of the Murder of the
Duke d'Enghien--Russia complains to Talleyrand of the Violation of
Baden--and, along with Sweden, Remonstrates in a Note laid before
the German Diet--but without effect--Charges brought by Buonaparte
against Mr. Drake and Mr. Spencer Smith--who are
accordingly Dismissed from the Courts of Stuttgard and
Munich--Seizure--Imprisonment--and Dismissal--of Sir George Rumbold,
the British Envoy at Lower Saxony--Treachery attempted against Lord
Elgin, by the Agents of Buonaparte--Details--Defeated by the
Exemplary Prudence of that Nobleman--These Charges brought before
the House of Commons--and peremptorily Denied by the Chancellor of
the Exchequer._
[Sidenote: GENERAL INDIGNATION OF EUROPE.]
Buonaparte, as we have seen, gained a great accession of power by the
event of Pichegru's conspiracy. But this was, in some measure,
counterbalanced by the diminution of character which attached to the
kidnapping and murdering the Duke d'Enghien, and by the foul suspicions
arising from the mysterious fate of Pichegru and Wright. He possessed no
longer the respect which might be claimed by a victor and legislator,
but had distinctly shown that either the sudden tempest of ungoverned
passion, or the rankling feelings of personal hatred, could induce him
to take the readiest means of wreaking the basest, as well as the
bloodiest vengeance. Deep indignation was felt through every country on
the Continent, though Russia and Sweden alone ventured to express their
dissatisfaction with a proceeding so contrary to the law of nations. The
court of St. Petersburg went into state mourning for the Duke d'Enghien,
and while the Russian minister at Paris presented a note to M.
Talleyrand, complaining of the violation of the Duke of Baden's
territory, the Russian resident at Ratisbon was instructed to lay before
the Diet of the Empire a remonstrance to the same effect. The Swedish
minister did the same. The answer of the French minister was hostile and
offensive.[68] He treated with scorn the pretensions of Russia to
interfere in the affairs of France and Germany, and accused that power
of being desirous to rekindle the flames of war in Europe. This
correspondence tended greatly to inflame the discontents already
subsisting betwixt France and Russia, and was one main cause of again
engaging France in war with that powerful enemy.
The Russian and Swedish remonstrance to the Diet produced no effect.
Austria was too much depressed, Prussia was too closely leagued with
France to be influenced by it; and there were none of the smaller powers
who could be expected to provoke the displeasure of the first consul,
by seconding the complaint of the violation of the territory of Baden.
The blood of the Duke d'Enghien was not, however, destined to sleep
unavenged in his obscure dwelling. The Duke of Baden himself requested
the matter might be left to silence and oblivion; but many of the German
potentates felt as men, what they dared not, in their hour of weakness,
resent as princes. It was a topic repeatedly and efficaciously resumed
whenever an opportunity of resistance against the universal conqueror
presented itself; and the perfidy and cruelty of the whole transaction
continued to animate new enemies against him, until, in the issue, they
became strong enough to work his overthrow. From the various and
inconsistent pleas which Buonaparte set up in defence of his
conduct--now attempting to justify, now to apologize for, now to throw
on others a crime which he alone had means and interest to commit, it is
believed that he felt the death of the Duke d'Enghien to be the most
reprehensible as well as the most impolitic act in his life.
Already aware of the unpopularity which attached to his late cruel
proceedings, Buonaparte became desirous to counterbalance it by filling
the public mind with a terrific idea of the schemes of England, which,
in framing and encouraging attempts upon his life, drove him to those
unusual and extraordinary acts, which he desired to represent as
measures of retaliation. Singular manœuvres were resorted to for the
purpose of confirming the opinions which he was desirous to impress upon
the world. The imprudence--so, at least, it seems--of Mr. Drake, British
resident at Munich, enabled Buonaparte to make his charges against
England with some speciousness. This agent of the British Government had
maintained a secret correspondence with a person of infamous character,
called Mehee de la Touche, who, affecting the sentiments of a Royalist
and enemy of Buonaparte, was, in fact, employed by the first consul to
trepan Mr. Drake into expressions which might implicate the English
ministers, his constituents, and furnish grounds for the accusations
which Buonaparte made against them. It certainly appears that Mr. Drake
endeavoured, by the medium of de la Touche, to contrive the means of
effecting an insurrection of the Royalists, or other enemies of
Buonaparte, with whom his country was then at war; and, in doing so, he
acted according to the practice of all belligerent powers, who, on all
occasions, are desirous to maintain a communication with such
malecontents as may exist in the hostile nation. But, unless by the
greatest distortion of phrase and expression, there arises out of the
letters not the slightest room to believe that Mr. Drake encouraged the
party with whom he supposed himself to be in correspondence, to proceed
by the mode of assassination, or any others that are incompatible with
the law of nations, and acknowledged by civilized governments. The error
of Mr. Drake seems to have been, that he was not sufficiently cautious
respecting the sincerity of the person with whom he maintained his
intercourse. Mr. Spencer Smith, the British envoy at Stuttgard, was
engaged in a similar intrigue, which appears also to have been a snare
spread for him by the French Government.
Buonaparte failed not to make the utmost use of these pretended
discoveries, which were promulgated with great form by Regnier,[69] who
held the office of grand judge. He invoked the faith of nations, as if
the Duke d'Enghien had been still residing in peaceable neutrality at
Ettenheim, and exclaimed against assassination, as if his state dungeons
could not have whispered of the death of Pichegru. The complaisant
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