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by M. Guizot and Madame Guizot De Witt

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Title: Worlds Best Histories - France Vol 7

Author: M. Guizot and Madame Guizot De Witt

Release Date: December, 2004 [EBook #7054]
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[This file was first posted on March 2, 2003]

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[Illustration: JOSEPHINE]




World's Best Histories: FRANCE

BY
M. GUIZOT AND MADAME GUIZOT DE WITT

IN EIGHT VOLUMES
VOLUME SEVEN




HISTORY OF FRANCE

VOLUME SEVEN


TABLE OF CONTENTS--VOL. VII.


CHAPTER  VII. The Consulate (1799-1804)

CHAPTER VIII. Glory and Success (1804-1805)

CHAPTER   IX. Glory and Conquest (1805-1808)

CHAPTER    X. The Home Government (1804-1808)

CHAPTER   XI. Glory and Illusions. Spain and Austria

CHAPTER  XII. The Divorce (1809-1810)

CHAPTER XIII. Glory and Madness. The Russian Campaign (1811-1812)




THE HISTORY OF FRANCE




CHAPTER VII.

THE CONSULATE (1799-1804).


For more than ten years, amid unheard of shocks and sufferings, France had
been seeking for a free and regular government, that might assure to her
the new rights which had only been gained through tribulation. She had
overthrown the Monarchy and attempted a Republic; she had accepted and
rejected three constitutions, all the while struggling single-handed with
Europe, leagued against her. She had undergone the violence of the Reign
of Terror, the contradictory passions of the Assemblies, and the
incoherent feebleness of the Directory. For the first time since the death
of King Louis XIV., her history finds once more a centre, and henceforth
revolves round a single man. For fifteen years, victorious or vanquished,
at the summit of glory, or in the depths of abasement, France and Europe,
overmastered by an indomitable will and unbridled passion for power, were
compelled to squander their blood and their treasure upon that page of
universal history which General Bonaparte claims for his own, and which he
has succeeded in covering with glory and crime.

On the day following the 18th Brumaire, in the uncertainty of parties, in
face of a constitution audaciously violated, and a government mainly
provisional, the nation was more excited than apprehensive or disquieted.
It had caught a glimpse of that natural power and that free ascendancy of
genius to which men willingly abandon themselves, with a confidence which
the most bitter deceptions have never been able to extinguish. Ardent and
sincere republicans, less and less numerous, felt themselves conquered
beforehand, by a sure instinct that was not misled by the protest of their
adversaries. They bent before a new power, to which their old hatreds did
not attach, which they believed to be in some sort created by their own
hands, and of which they had not yet measured the audacity. The mass of
the population, the true France, hailed with joy the hope of order and of
a regular and strong administration. They were not prejudiced in favor of
the philosophic constitution so long propounded by Sieyes. In the eyes of
the nation, the government was already concentrated in the hands of
General Bonaparte; it was in him that all were trusting, for repose at
home and glory and peace abroad.

In fact, he was governing already, disregarding the prolonged discussions
of the two legislative commissions, and the profound developments of the
projects of Sieyes, expounded by M. Boulay. Before the Constitution of the
year VIII, received the sanction of his dominant will, he had repealed the
Law of Hostages, recalled the proscribed priests from the Isle of Oleron,
and from Sinnamari most of those transported on 18th Fructidor. He had
reformed the ministry, and distributed according to his pleasure the chief
commands in the army. As Moreau had been of service to Bonaparte in his
_coup d'etat_, he was placed at the head of the army of the Rhine joined
to the army of Helvetia, taken from Massena on the morrow of his most
brilliant victories. Distrust and ill-will struggled with his admiration
of Bonaparte in the mind of the conqueror of Zurich; he was sent to the
army of Italy, always devoted to Bonaparte. Berthier remained at Paris in
the capacity of minister of war. Fouche was placed at the police, and
Talleyrand undertook foreign affairs. By a bent of theoretical fancy,
which was not borne out by experience in government, the illustrious
mathematician Laplace was called to the ministry of the interior. Gaudin
became minister of finances; he replaced immediately the forced loans with
an increase of direct taxes, and introduced into the collection of the
public revenues some important improvements, which paved the way for our
great financial organization.

At the same time, without provocation and without necessity, as if simply
in compliance with the mournful traditions of past violence, a list of
proscriptions, published on the 23rd Brumaire, exiled to Guiana or the Ile
de Re nine persons--a mixture of honest republicans opposed to the new
state of things, and of wretches still charged with the crimes of the
Reign of Terror. Only the name of General Jourdan excited universal
reprobation, and it was immediately struck out. The measure itself was
soon mitigated, and the decree was never executed.

Through the revolutionary storms and the murderous epochs which had
successively seen all the great actors in the political struggles
disappear from the scene, the Abbe Sieyes emerged as a veteran associated
with the first free impulses of the nation. In 1789, his pamphlet, "What
is the Third Estate?" had arrested the attention of all serious minds. He
had several times, and in decisive circumstances, played an important part
in the Constituent Assembly. Since his vote of the 20th January, and until
the 9th Thermidor, he remained in voluntary obscurity; mingling since then
in all great theoretical discussions, he had exercised a preponderating
influence in recent events. From revolution to revolution, popular or
military, he came out in the part of legislator, his spirit escaping from
the influence of pure democracy. He had formerly proposed the banishment
_en masse_ of all the nobility, and he still nursed in the depths of his
soul a horror for all traditional superiority. He had said, "Whoever is
not of my species is not my fellow-creature; the nobles are not of my
species; they are wolves, and I fire upon them." He had, however, been
brought, by his reflections and the course of events, to construct
eccentric theories, of a factitious aristocracy, the wielders of power to
the exclusion of the nation, recruited from a limited circle--a disfigured
survival of the Italian republics of the middle ages, without the free and
salutary action of representative government.

"Confidence ought to proceed from below, and power to act from above,"
declared the appointed legislator of the 18th Brumaire. He himself
compared his political system to a pyramid, resting on the entire mass of
the nation, terminating at the top in a single man, whom he called the
Great Elector. He had not the courage to pronounce the word king.

Five millions of electors, constituted into primary assemblies, were to
prepare a _municipal_ list of 500,000 elected who in their turn were
entrusted with the formation of a _departmental_ list of 50,000 names. To
these twice sifted delegates was confided the care of electing 5000 as a
_national_ list, alone capable of becoming the agents of executive power
in the whole of France. The municipal and departmental administrations
were to be chosen by authority from their respective lists. The
_Conservative Senate_, composed of eighty members, self-elective, had the
right of appointing the members of the Corps Legislatif, the Tribuneship,
and the Court of Cassation. It was besides destined to the honor of
choosing the Great Elector. The senators, richly endowed, might exercise
no other function. The Corps Legislatif was dumb, and limited to voting
the laws prepared by the Council of State, and discussed by the Tribunate.
The Great Elector, without actively interfering in the government,
furnished with a civil list of six millions, and magnificently housed by
the state, appointed the two councils of peace and war, upon whom depended
the ministers and all the administrative _personnel_ of prefects and sub-
prefects entrusted with the government of the departments. In case the
magistrate, so highly placed in his sumptuous indolence, should seem to
menace the safety of the State, the Senate was authorized to _absorb_ him
by admitting him into its ranks. The same action might be exercised with
respect to any of the civil or military functionaries.

So many complicated wheels calculated to hinder rather than to sustain
each other, so much pomp in words and so little efficacy in action, could
never suit the intentions or the character of General Bonaparte. He
claimed at once the position of Great Elector, which Sieyes had perhaps
secretly thought to reserve for himself.

"What!" said he, "would you want to make me a pig in a dunghill?" Then
demolishing the edifice laboriously constructed by the legislator, "Your
Great Elector is a slothful king," said he to Sieyes; "the time for that
sort of thing is past. What! appoint people to act, and not act himself!
It won't do. If I were this Great Elector I should certainly do everything
which you would desire me not to do. I should say to the two consuls of
peace and war: 'If you don't choose such and such a man, or take such and
such a measure, I shall send you about your business.' And I would compel
them to proceed according to my will. And these two consuls? How do you
think they could agree? Unity of action is indispensable in government. Do
you think that serious men would be able to lend themselves to such
shams?"

Sieyes was not fond of discussion, for which indeed he was not suited;
with the prudent sagacity which always characterized his conduct, he
recognized the inferiority of his will and his influence in comparison
with General Bonaparte. Three consuls were substituted for the Great
Elector and his two chosen subordinates equal in appearance, but already
classed according to the origin of their power. As first consul, Bonaparte
was not to be subjected to any election; he held himself as appointed by
the people. "What colleagues will they give me?" said he bluntly to
Roederer and Talleyrand who served him constantly as his agents of
communication. "Whom do you wish?" He named Cambaceres, then minister of
justice, clever and clear-sighted, of an independent spirit joined to a
docile character; and Lebrun, the former secretary of the Chancellor
Maupeou, minister for foreign affairs under the Convention, and respected
by moderate republicans. Some had spoken of M. Daunou, honestly courageous
in the worst days of the Revolution; the clever author of the Constitution
of the year III., and whom Bonaparte had taken a malicious pleasure in
entrusting with the drawing up of the new Constitution. A certain number
of voices in the two legislative commissions had supported his name. The
resolution of M. Daunou was known; Bonaparte did not complete the counting
of the votes. "We shall do better," said he, "to keep to those whom M.
Sieyes has named." Cambaceres and Lebrun were appointed consuls. Sieyes
received from the nation a rich grant and the estate of Crosne. In concert
with Roger-Ducos and the new consuls, he formed the list of the Senate,
who immediately completed its numbers, as well as the lists of the 300
members of the Corps Legislatif, and the 100 members of the Tribunate.
Moderation presided over the composition of the lists; Bonaparte attached
no importance to them, and took no part in their preparation. He had
formed with care the Council of State, many capable men finding a place in
it. It was the instrument which the First Consul destined for the
execution of his ideas. Once only, on the 19th Brumaire, he came for a
moment into contact with the assemblies. Henceforth he left them in the
shade; all power rested in his hands. Under the name of Republic, the
accent of an absolute master resounded already in the proclamation
everywhere circulated on the day following the formation of the new
government:--

"Frenchmen,

"To render the Republic dear to citizens, respected by foreigners,
formidable to our enemies, are the obligations which we have contracted in
accepting the chief magistracy.

"It will be dear to citizens if the laws and the acts of authority bear
the impress of the spirit of order, justice and moderation.

"The Republic will be imposing to foreigners if it knows how to respect in
their independence the title of its own independence, if its engagements,
prepared with wisdom and entered upon with sincerity, are faithfully kept.

"Lastly, it will be formidable to its enemies, if the army and navy are
made strong, and if each of its defenders finds a home in the regiment to
which he belongs, and in that home a heritage of virtue and glory; if the
officer, trained by long study, obtains by regular promotion the
recompense due to his talents and work.

"Upon these principles depend the stability of government, the success of
commerce and agriculture, the greatness and prosperity of nations.

"We have pointed out the rule, Frenchmen, by which we ought to be judged,
we have stated our duties. It will be for you to tell us whether we have
fulfilled them."

"What would you have?" said the First Consul to La Fayette. "Sieyes has
put nothing but shadows everywhere; the shadow of legislative power, the
shadow of judicial power, the shadow of government; some part of the
substance was necessary. Faith! I have put it there." The very preamble of
the Constitution affirmed the radical change brought about in the
direction of affairs. "The powers instituted to-day will be strong and
lasting, such as they ought to be in order to guarantee the rights of
citizens and the interests of the State. Citizens, the Revolution is fixed
upon the same principles which began it. It is finished!"

It was not the apotheosis, but the end of the Revolution that the authors
of the Constitution of the year VIII. arrogantly announced. In the first
impulse of a great spirit brought face to face with a difficult task,
Bonaparte conceived the thought of terminating the war like the
Revolution, and of re-establishing, at least for some time, the peace he
needed in order to govern France. Disdainful of the ordinary forms of
diplomacy, he wrote directly to George III., as he had formerly written to
the Archduke Charles (18th December, 1799).

"Called by the will of the French nation to be first magistrate, I deem it
expedient on entering upon my charge to communicate directly with your
Majesty.

"Must the war which for eight years has ravaged the four quarters of the
globe, be eternal? Is there no other means of arriving at a mutual
understanding?

"How can the most enlightened nations of Europe, powerful and strong
beyond what their security and independence require, sacrifice the
interest of commerce, the prosperity of their people, and the happiness of
families, to ideas of vainglory?

"These sentiments cannot be foreign to the heart of your Majesty, who
governs a free nation with the sole aim of rendering it happy.

"Your Majesty will see in these overtures only my sincere desire to
contribute effectively, for the second time, to a general pacification by
a prompt procedure, full of confidence and divested of those forms which,
necessary perhaps, in order to disguise the dependence of feeble States,
only reveal between strong States a mutual desire to deceive each other.

"France and England, by the abuse of their power, may for a long time yet
retard its termination; but I dare to say that every civilized nation is
interested in the close of a war which embraces the whole world."

At the same time, and in nearly the same terms, Bonaparte wrote to the
Emperor Francis. He had treated formerly with this sovereign, and would
not perhaps have found him inflexible; but Pitt did not believe the
Revolution finished, and had no confidence in a man who had just seized
with a victorious hand the direction of the destinies of France. A
frigidly polite letter, addressed by Lord Granville to Talleyrand, the
minister of foreign affairs, repelled the advances of the First Consul.
The English then prepared a new armament intended to second the attempts
which the royalists were at that time renewing in the west. In enumerating
the causes of European mistrust with regard to France, Lord Granville
added, "The best guarantee, the most natural guarantee, for the reality
and the permanence of the pacific intentions of the French government,
would be the restoration of that royal dynasty which has maintained for so
many ages the internal prosperity of France, and which has made it
regarded with respect and consideration abroad. Such an event would clear
away all the obstacles which hinder negotiations for peace, it would
ensure to France the tranquil possession of her ancient territory, and it
would give to all the nations of Europe that security which they are
compelled to seek at present by other means."

During the violent debate raised in Parliament by the pacific propositions
of the First Consul, Pitt based all his arguments upon the instability and
insecurity of a treaty of peace with the French Revolution, whatever might
be the name of its chief rulers. "When was it discovered that the dangers
of Jacobinism cease to exist?" he cried. "When was it discovered that the
Jacobinism of Robespierre, of Barere, of the five directors, of the
triumvirate, has all of a sudden disappeared because it is concentrated in
a single man, raised and nurtured in its bosom, covered with glory under
its auspices, and who has been at once the offspring and the champion of
all its atrocities?... It is because I love peace sincerely that I cannot
content myself with a vain word; it is because I love peace sincerely that
I cannot sacrifice it by seizing the shadow when the reality is not within
my reach. _Cur igitur pacem nolo? Quia infida est, quia periculosa, quia
esse non potest!_"

More moderate in form, Austria had in reality replied like England. War
was inevitable, and in the internal disorder in which the Directory had
left affairs, in the financial embarrassment and in the deplorable state
of the armies, the First Consul felt the weight of a government that had
been so long disorganized and weak, pressing heavily on his shoulders. His
first care was to achieve the pacification of the west, always agitated by
royalist passions. For a moment the chiefs of the party thought it
possible to engage General Bonaparte in the service of the monarchical
restoration: they were speedily undeceived. But the First Consul knew how
to make use in Vendee of the influence of the former cure of St. Laud, the
Abbe Bernier; he made an appeal to the priests, who returned from all
parts to their provinces, "The ministers of a God of Peace," said the
proclamation of the 28th December, 1799, "will be the first promoters of
reconciliation and concord; let them speak to all hearts the language
which they learn in the temple of their Master! Let them enter temples
which will be reopened to them, and offer for their fellow-citizens the
sacrifice which shall expiate the crime of war and the blood which has
been made to flow!" Always in intimate unison with the religious sentiment
of the populace who fought under their orders, the Vendean chiefs
responded to this appeal, laying down their arms. In Brittany and in
Normandy, Georges Cadoudal and Frotte continued hostilities; severe
instructions were sent, first to General Hedouville, and then to General
Brune. "The Consuls think that the generals ought to shoot on the spot the
principal rebels taken with arms in hand. However cunning the Chouans may
be, they are not so much so as Arabs of the desert. The First Consul
believes that a salutary example would be given by burning two or three
large communes, chosen from among those who have behaved themselves most
badly." Six weeks later the insurrection was everywhere subdued; Frotte,
and his young aide-de-camp Toustain, had been shot; Bourmont had accepted
the offers of the First Consul, and enrolled himself in his service;
Georges Cadoudal resisted all the advances of him whom he was soon to
pursue with his hatred even to attempting a crime. "What a mistake I have
made in not stifling him in my arms!" repeated the hardy chief of the
Chouans on quitting General Bonaparte. He retired into England. The civil
war was terminated; the troops which had occupied the provinces of the
west could now rejoin the armies which were preparing on the frontiers.
Carnot, who had just re-entered France, replaced at the ministry of war
General Berthier, called upon active service. It was the grand association
connected with his name, rather than the hope of an active and effective
co-operation, which decided the First Consul to entrust this post to
Carnot; possibly he wished to remove it from the little group of obstinate
liberals justly disquieted at the dangers with which they saw freedom
menaced. Already the journals had been suppressed, with the exception of
thirteen; the laws were voted without dispute; and, "in a veritable
whirlwind of urgency," the government claimed to regulate the duration of
the discussions of the Tribunate. Benjamin Constant, still young, and
known for a short time previously as a publicist, raised his voice
eloquently against the wrong done to freedom of discussion. "Without
doubt," said he "harmony is desirable amongst the authorities of the
Republic; but the independence of the Tribunate is no less necessary to
that harmony than the constitutional authority of the government; without
the independence of the Tribunate, there will be no longer either harmony
or constitution, there will be no longer anything but servitude and
silence, a silence that all Europe will understand."

The past violence of the assemblies, and their frequent inconsistencies,
had wearied feeble minds, and blinded short-sighted spirits. The speech of
Benjamin Constant secured for his friend Madame de Stael a forced
retirement from Paris. The law was voted by a large majority, and the
adulations of flatterers were heaped up around the feet of the First
Consul. He himself took a wiser view of his position, which he still
considered precarious. On taking up his residence at the Tuileries, in
great state, on February 19, 1800, he said to his secretary, "Well,
Bourienne, we have reached the Tuileries; the thing is now to stop here."

Already, and by the sole effort of a sovereign will, which appeared to
improve by exercise, the power formerly distributed among obscure hands
was concentrated at Paris, under the direction of a central administration
suddenly organized; exactions borne with difficulty resulted in abundant
resources from the conquered or annexed countries, at Genoa, in Holland,
at Hamburg. The young King of Prussia, sensible and prudent, had refused
to transform his neutrality into alliance; but he had used his influence
over the smaller states of the empire, to induce them to maintain the same
attitude. The Emperor Paul I., tossed to and fro by the impetuous
movements of his ardent and unhealthy spirit, was piqued by the defeats of
Suwarrow, and offended by the insufficiency of the help of Austria; he was
discontented with the English government, and ill-humoredly kept himself
apart from the coalition. The resumption of hostilities was imminent, and
the grand projects of the First Consul began to unroll themselves. Active
preparations had been till then confined to the army of the Rhine under
Moreau. The army of Liguria, placed under the command of Massena, with
Genoa as a centre of operations, had received neither reinforcements nor
munitions; its duty was to protect the passage of the Appenines against
Melas, whilst Moreau attacked upon the Rhine the army of Suabia, commanded
by Marshal Kray. The occupation of Switzerland by the French army impeded
the movements of the allies, by compelling them to withdraw their two
armies from each other; the First Consul meditated a movement which should
give him all the advantages of this separation. Moreau in Germany, Massena
in Italy, were ordered at any cost to keep the enemy in check. Bonaparte
silently formed a third army, the corps of which he cleverly dispersed,
distracting the attention of Europe by the camp of the army of reserve at
Dijon. Already he was preparing the grand campaign which should raise his
glory to its pinnacle, and establish his power upon victory. In his idea
everything was to be sacrificed to the personal glory of his successes. He
conceived a project of attack by crossing the Rhine. Moreau, modest and
disinterested, accepted the general plan of the war, and subordinated his
operations to those of the First Consul; in his military capacity
independent and resolute, he persisted in passing the Rhine at his
pleasure. Bonaparte was enraged. "Moreau would not seek to understand me,"
cried he. He yielded, however, to the observations of General Dessoles,
and always clever in subjugating those of whom he had need, he wrote to
Moreau to restore him liberty of action. "Dessoles will tell you that no
one is more interested than myself in your personal glory and your good
fortune. The English embark in force; what do they want? I am to-day a
sort of manikin, who has lost his liberty and his good fortune. Greatness
is fine but in prospective and in imagination. I envy you your luck; you
go with the heroes to do fine deeds. I would willingly barter my consular
purple against one of your brigadier's epaulettes" (16th March, 1800).

The army of Italy had been suffering for a long time with heroic courage;
the well-known chief who took the command was more than any other suited
to obtain from it the last efforts of devotion; it was the first to
undergo the attack of the allied forces. The troops of Massena were still
scattered when he was assailed by Melas. The fear of prematurely
exhausting the insufficient resources of Genoa had prevented him from
following the wise councils of Bonaparte, by massing his troops round that
town. After a series of furious combats upon the upper Bormida, the French
line found itself cut in two by the Austrians; General Suchet was obliged
to fall back upon Nice, Massena re-entered Genoa. A new effort forced back
General Melas beyond the Appenines. The attempt to rejoin the corps of
General Suchet having failed, Massena saw himself constrained to shut
himself up in Genoa, in the midst of a population divided in opinion, but
whose confidence he had already known how to win. Resolved to occupy by
resistance and by sorties all the forces of the allies, the general made
preparations for sustaining the siege to the last extremity. All the
provisions of the place were brought into the military magazines; the most
severe order reigned in the distribution, but already scarcity was felt.
The forces of Massena, exhausted by frequent fights, diminished every day;
bread failed; and the heroic obstinacy of the general alone compelled the
Austrians to keep a considerable corps d'armee before a famished town (5th
May, 1800). Melas had in vain attempted to force the lines of Var, behind
which General Suchet, too feeble to defend Nice, had cleverly entrenched
himself.

Moreau delayed to commence the campaign; his material was insufficient;
Alsace and Switzerland, exhausted of resources, could not furnish the
means of transport required by his movement. The First Consul urged him.
"Obtain a success as soon as possible, that you may be able by a diversion
in some degree to expedite the operations in Italy," he wrote to him on
April 24; "every day's delay is extremely disastrous to us." On April 26,
Moreau passed the Rhine at Strasburg, at Brisach, and at Basle, thus
deceiving General Kray, who defended the defiles of the Black Forest,
whilst the different divisions of the French army reascended and repassed
the Rhine, in order to cross it afresh without difficulty at Schaffhausen.
The Austrians had not yet collected their forces, dispersed by the
unlooked-for movement they found themselves obliged to execute; the French
corps were themselves dispersed when the battle commenced, on May 3, at
Engen. After a furious struggle at several points, General Moreau achieved
a splendid victory; two days later the same fortune crowned the battle of
Moesskirch; the loss on both sides was great. The action was not well
combined; Marshal Kray at first fell back behind the Danube; by the advice
of his council of war he decided to defend the magazines at Biberach. He
repassed the river, and offered battle to the corps of Gouvion St. Cyr,
then hampered with Moreau, bearing his direction with difficulty. The
positions occupied by the Austrians were everywhere attacked at once;
their troops, already demoralized by several defeats, retired in disorder.
Kray fell back on Ulm, where an entrenched camp was ready for him. General
Moreau was compelled to weaken his army by detaching a corps of 1800 men,
necessary for the operations of the First Consul. He attempted without
success a movement intended to turn the flank of General Kray, and
resolved to blockade him in his positions, and wait for the result of the
manoeuvres of Bonaparte. On the 27th May he wrote to Bonaparte, "We await
with impatience the announcement of your success. M. de Kray and I are
groping about here--he to keep his army round Ulm, I to make him quit the
post. It would have been dangerous, especially for you, if I had carried
the war to the left bank of the Danube. Our present position has forced
the Prince of Reuss to remove himself to the passes of the Tyrol, to the
sources of the Lech and the Iller; thus he is no longer dangerous for you.
If M. de Kray comes towards me, I shall still retreat as far as Meiningen;
there I shall join General Lecourbe, and we shall fight. If M. de Kray
marches upon Augsburg, I shall do the same; he will quit his support at
Ulm, and then we shall see what will have to be done to cover your
movements. We should find more advantages in carrying on the war upon the
left bank of the Danube, and making Wurtemberg and Franconia contribute to
it; but that would not suit you, as the enemy would be able to send
detachments down into Italy whilst leaving us to ravage the provinces of
the Empire.

"Give me, I pray you, some news of yourself, and command me in every
possible service I can render you."

All was thus prepared in Germany and Italy for the success of that
campaign of the First Consul of which the enemy were still ignorant.
Always deceived by the fictitious concentrations carried on at Dijon, the
Austrians saw without disquietude the departure of Bonaparte, who left
Paris, as it was said, for a few days, in order to pass in review the army
of reserve. The French public shared the same illusion; the preparations
eagerly pushed forward by the First Consul, remained secret. He set out at
the last moment, leaving with regret, and not without uneasiness, his
government scarcely established, and new institutions not yet in working
order. "Keep firmly together," said he to Cambaceres and Lebrun; "if an
emergency occurs, don't be alarmed at it. I will return like a
thunderbolt, to crush those who are audacious enough to raise a hand
against the government." He had in advance, by the powerful conceptions of
his genius arranged the whole plan of operations, and divined the
movements of his enemies. Bending over his maps, and designating with his
finger the positions of the different corps, he muttered in a low voice,
"This poor M. de Melas will pass by Turin, he will fall back upon
Alessandria. I shall pass the Po, and come up with him again on the road
of Placenza, in the plains of the Scrivia; and I shall beat him there, and
then there." The Tribunate expressed their desire that the First Consul
might return soon, "conqueror and pacificator." An article of the
Constitution forbade him to take the command of the armies; Berthier
received the title of general-in-chief. The First Consul passed in review
the army of conscripts and invalids assembled at Dijon. On May 13, he
combined the active forces at Geneva; the troops coming from Germany under
the command of General Moncey had not yet arrived; they were to pass by
the St. Gothard. General Marescot had been ordered to reconnoitre the
Alps; the pass of the St. Bernard, more difficult than that of the Simplon
or Mont Cenis, was much shorter, and the passage from it could be much
more easily defended. "Difficult it may be," replied the First Consul to
the report of Marescot, "but is it possible?" "I think so," said the
general, "with extraordinary efforts." "Ah, well! let us set out," said
Bonaparte.

From Geneva to Villeneuve the journey was easy, and vessels carried
provisions to that point. The First Consul had carefully arranged places
for revictualling all along the road. At Montigny half the mules,
requisitioned at great cost in the neighborhood, were loaded with victuals
and munitions of war; the other half were attached to the gun carriages
relieved of the cannon, which were to be again put in working order at San
Remi, on the other side of the pass. The cannon themselves were enveloped
in the hollowed trunks of trees; they could then be dragged over the ice
and snow. The number of mules proving insufficient, and the peasants
refusing to undertake this rough work, the soldiers yoked themselves to
the cannon, and dragged them across the mountain without wishing to accept
the rewards promised by the First Consul. He rode on a mule at the head of
the rear-guard, wrapped in a gray greatcoat, chatting familiarly with his
guide, and sustaining the courage of his soldiers by his unalterable
coolness. After a few hours' rest at the hospice of St. Bernard commenced
the descent, more difficult still than the ascent. From the 15th to the
20th of May the divisions followed each other. Lannes and Berthier, who
commanded the vanguard, had already advanced to Aosta, when they found
themselves stopped by the little fort of Bard, built upon a precipitous
rock, and with artillery commanding the defile. It was now night; a layer
of straw and refuse was spread over the frozen foot-path; the wheels of
the gun-carriages were encased in tow; at the break of day the passage had
been safely cleared. The French army, descending like a torrent into the
valley, seized upon Ivry, and repulsed the Austrians at the Chiusella on
May 26th. All the divisions of Bonaparte's army assembled by degrees; the
corps of Moncey debouched by the St. Gothard, 4000 men under the orders of
General Thureau crossed by Mont Cenis. General Melas still refused to
believe in the danger which menaced him, and already an imposing army was
advancing against his scattered and divided forces. Already Lannes had
beaten General Ott at Montebello, after a hotly disputed engagement. "I
heard the bones crackle like a hailstorm on the roofs," said the
conqueror.

Bonaparte threw himself upon Milan, neglecting Genoa, which he might have
delivered without risk; thereby condemning Massena and his army to the
sufferings of a prolonged siege, terminated by a sad defeat. He had
conceived vaster projects, and the design of annihilating the Austrian
army by a single blow. Everything had to give way to the consideration of
personal success and his egotistical thirst for glory. The Lombard
populace received the First Consul with transport, happy to see themselves
delivered from the Austrian yoke, and beguiled in advance with the hope of
liberty. General Melas was at Alessandria, summoning to his aid the forces
that were attacking Suchet on the Var, and the troops of General Ott,
detained by the siege of Genoa. He was assured of the impossibility of any
succor being sent by Marshal Kray. It was necessary to conquer or die. In
the prison in which the Austrian army detained him, Massena had divined
the situation of the enemy. He was still hoping for the assistance that
had been promised him; already General Ott had sent him a flag of truce.
"Give me only provisions for two days, or one day," said he to the
Genoese, "and I will save you from the Austrian yoke, and spare my army
the sorrow of surrender."

All resources were exhausted; the horrors of famine had worn out the
courage of the inhabitants; even the soldiers were yielding to
discouragement. "Before he will surrender," said they, "the general will
make us eat his boots." For a long time the garrison had lived on
unwholesome bread made with starch, upon linseed and cocoa, which scarcely
sufficed to keep the soldiers alive; the population, reduced to live on
soup made of herbs gathered on the ramparts, died by hundreds; the
prisoners cantoned in the port in old dismasted vessels, uttered cries
that reached the ears of their old generals. The latter had refused to
send in provisions for the prisoners, in spite of the promise of Massena
to reserve it for them. The last food was used up; on the 3rd of June the
general consented to receive the flag of truce. He asked for, and
obtained, the honors of war; the army was authorized to depart from Genoa
with arms and baggage, flags displayed, and free to direct its course
towards the corps of General Suchet. "Without that I should issue arms in
hand, and it should be seen what eight thousand famished men could do."
War and famine had reduced to this number the soldiers in condition to
carry arms. After their cure, the sick, who filled the hospitals, were to
be sent to the quarters of General Suchet. Massena defended the interests
of the Genoese, and asked in their favor for a free government. The
Austrian generals refused to make any engagement. "In less than a
fortnight I shall be back again in Genoa," declared the French general.
"You will find there the men whom you have taught how to defend it,"
replied St. Julien, one of the plenipotentiaries. General Soult remained
in the place, seriously wounded. Massena brought his exhausted troops to
the Var. In the depths of their souls, generals and soldiers cherished a
bitter resentment for the manner in which they had been abandoned. When
the Austrian troops, beaten by Suchet, had retired towards Alessandria,
Massena did not allow him to pursue them; he contented himself with
guarding the gates of France.

Bonaparte had just quitted Stradella, which he had occupied after leaving
Milan. He had been obliged to disperse his forces, in order to cut off all
the passages open to the enemy. When he entered, on June 13th, the plain
that extends between the Scrivia and the Bormida, near the little village
of Marengo, he was badly instructed as regards the movements of the enemy,
as well as the resources of the country. On the morning of the 14th,
General Melas, constrained by necessity, evacuated Alessandria, and,
passing the Bormida upon three bridges, attacked General Victor before
Marengo. Lannes was at the same time surrounded on every side, and obliged
to retreat in spite of prodigies of courage. Marengo had been destroyed by
the artillery of the enemy, when Bonaparte arrived upon the field of
battle with his guard and his staff officers, at once drawing upon himself
the brunt of the fight. Meanwhile the retreat continued; the army seemed
about to be cut in two; the Austrian general, old and fatigued, believing
himself assured of victory, re-entered Alessandria. It was now three
o'clock, and Bonaparte still hoped and kept on fighting. He despatched an
aide-de-camp to Desaix, returned from Egypt two days before, and whom he
had detached in the direction of Novi; upon his return depended the
fortune of the day. Desaix had divined this, and forestalled the message
of Bonaparte; before he could be expected he was beside the general, who
questioned him as to the aspect of affairs. "Well," said Desaix, after
having rapidly examined the situation of the different corps, "it is a
lost battle; but it is not late; we have time to gain another." His
regiments were forming whilst he spoke, stopping the march of the
Austrians. "My friends," said the First Consul to the reanimated soldiers,
"remember that it is my custom to sleep upon the field of battle."

At the same moment Desaix advanced at the heads of his troops. "Go and
tell the First Consul that I am about to charge," said he to his aide-de-
camp, Savary; "I need to be supported by cavalry." He was crossing an
undulation in the ground when a ball struck him in the breast; from
daybreak he had been oppressed by gloomy presentiments. "I have been too
long making war in Africa," said he; "the bullets of Europe know me no
longer." On falling he said to General Boudet, "Conceal my death; it might
unsettle the troops." The soldiers had perceived it and rushed forward to
avenge him. Kellermann arrived at the same instant, urged forward by one
of those sudden inspirations which mark great generals; hurling his
dragoons upon the Austrian cavalry, which he broke through, he attacked
the column of grenadiers which arduously sustained the assault of the
division of Desaix. Their ranks fell into disorder; one entire corps threw
down its arms. General Zach, entrusted with the command in the absence of
Melas, was forced to give up his sword. When the old general hurried up in
agitation, the battle was lost. The Austrian troops, repulsed and routed,
and crowded against the banks of the Bormida, blocked up all the bridges,
or cast themselves into the river, everywhere pursued by the victorious
French. The cannon, which stuck fast in the Bormida, fell into the hands
of the conquerors. The staff was decimated.

The First Consul regretted the loss of Desaix, the only one among the
companions of his youth who had seemed able to inspire in him any
particular regard. He was, however, triumphant, and this great day made
him in fact the master of Italy. He had the wisdom to perceive it. The
needs of government recalled him to France; the conditions he proposed to
Melas, although hard, were such as could be accepted. The Austrian army
was authorized to retire with the honors of war; but it was to surrender
to the French troops all its positions in Liguria, Piedmont, Lombardy, and
the Legations, whilst evacuating the Italian territory as far as the
Mincio. To the protests of Melas, Bonaparte replied by a formal refusal to
listen. "Sir," said he, "my conditions are irrevocable. I did not begin to
made war yesterday. Your position is as well known to me as to yourself.
You are in Alessandria, encumbered with the dead, the wounded, and the
sick, and destitute of provisions; you have lost the _elite_ of your army;
you are surrounded on all sides. I could exact everything, but I only
demand of you that which the situation of affairs imperatively requires.
Return to Alessandria; you will have no other conditions."

Melas signed, pledging his word until he should receive a reply from
Vienna. On the same evening, before quitting the field of battle, the
First Consul wrote for the second time to the Emperor Francis Joseph. He
was moved to the very depths of his impassable and haughty soul by the
spectacle of the carnage and fury of the battle. In subsequent calmer
moments he perhaps regretted his letter. "It is upon the battlefield of
Marengo," said he, "in the midst of agonies, and surrounded by 15,000
corpses, that I conjure your Majesty to listen to the cry of humanity, and
not permit the children of two brave and powerful nations to massacre each
other for interests which are foreign to them. It is for me to press this
upon your Majesty, since I am the nearest to the theatre of war. Your
heart cannot be so keenly alive to it as mine. The arms of your Majesty
have achieved sufficient glory. You govern a large number of States. What
then can those in the cabinet of your Majesty allege in favor of the
continuation of hostilities? Is it the interests of religion and of the
Church? Why do they not counsel your Majesty to make war on the English,
the Muscovites, and the Prussians? They are further from the Church than
we. Is it the form of the French Government, which is not hereditary but
simply elective? But the government of the Empire is also elective; and
besides, your Majesty is thoroughly convinced of the powerlessness of the
entire world to change the desire which the French people have received
from nature to govern themselves as they please. Is it the destruction of
revolutionary principles? If your Majesty will take account of the effects
of war you will see that it tends to revolutionize Europe, by increasing
everywhere the public debt and the discontent of the people. In compelling
the French people to make war, you compel them only to think of war, only
to live in war; and the French legions are numerous and brave. If your
Majesty wishes for peace it is done; let us give repose and tranquillity
to the present generation. If future generations are foolish enough to
fight--well, they will learn after a few years of war to become wise and
live in peace. I might take captive the entire army of your Majesty. I am
satisfied by a suspension of hostilities, having hopes that it may be the
first step towards the repose of the world; an object for which I can
plead all the more forcibly because, nurtured and schooled by war, I might
be suspected of being more accustomed to the evils it drags after it. If
your Majesty refuses these proposals, the hostilities will recommence; and
let me be permitted to tell you frankly, in the eyes of the world you
alone will be responsible for the war."

Peace was still to be delayed, but the Convention of Alessandria was
concluded at once; and the success of General Moreau sustained in Germany
the victorious arguments of the First Consul. The former passed the Danube
near Hochstedt; after a very brilliant action, which lasted eighteen hours
(June 19), he took 5000 prisoners, and captured twenty pieces of cannon
and considerable magazines. Kray, menaced with the probability of having
his line of retreat cut off, had abandoned his position at Ulm, forcing
his march so precipitately that General Moreau had not been informed of
it. Meanwhile he attacked the Grisons and the Tyrol, repulsed the Prince
of Reuss, and established himself upon the Isar. On the 15th of July a
suspension of arms was signed at Parsdorf, near Munich. Like the soldiers
of the army of Italy, the soldiers of the army of the Rhine were about to
take some repose.

Massena had re-entered Genoa on the 24th of June, justifying to the letter
his glorious bravado; his ill-humor was dissipated, and he remained
entrusted with the chief command of the army of Italy. The First Consul
had received at Milan the eager homage of the Lombards, but the Cisalpine
Republic was not reconstituted; a Grand Council governed it under the
Presidency of Petiet, the French minister. At Turin, General Jourdan
directed the provisional government; at Genoa, General Dejean filled the
same functions; everywhere the paraded power of France was substituted for
the semblance of liberty; the Roman States were still in the hands of the
Neapolitans. The new Pope, Barnabus Chiaramonti, formerly Bishop of Imola,
who had shown himself well disposed towards the French, had just arrived
unexpectedly at Ancona, whence he negotiated his re-entry into the eternal
city. The First Consul assured him of his good intentions as regards the
Catholic Church, and the Holy See. The far-seeing _finesse_ of the Court
of Rome did not permit it to be deceived. The Secretary of the Sacred
College, Monsignor Consalvi, had said during the conclave, "It is from
France that we have received persecutions for ten years past; well, it is
from France that will perhaps come in the future our succors and our
consolations. A very extraordinary young man, and even more difficult to
be judged, rules there to-day. There is no doubt he will soon have
reconquered Italy. Remember that he protected the priests in 1797, and
that he has recently rendered funeral honors to Pius VI. Let us not
neglect the resources which offer themselves to us on this side." On the
day after the battle of Marengo preliminary negotiations already
commenced. The First Consul was officially present at the grand _Te Deum_
chanted in the cathedral of Milan. "Our atheists at Paris may say of it
what they will," wrote Bonaparte to Cambaceres.

During the night of the 2nd and 3rd July, 1800, Bonaparte re-entered
Paris, overwhelmed on the way by evidences of public joy, which were most
brilliantly manifested at Lyons. He had forbidden all preparations for his
return: "My intention is to have neither arches of triumph nor any species
of ceremony," he wrote to his brother Lucien, who had replaced Laplace at
the ministry of the interior. "I have too good an opinion of myself to
hold such baubles in much estimation. I know no other triumph than the
public satisfaction."

The day would come when public satisfaction, of a truth much mitigated by
long sufferings, would no longer suffice for the triumph of the absolute
master who dragged exhausted France across fields of battle; the
remembrance of his return to Paris after the victory of Marengo was to
recur to his sorrowful mind when he dictated at St. Helena the memoirs
explanatory of his life: "It was a great day," said he.

Already the adulations and mean worship of courtiers were encompassing
him; already, also, was revealed the provisional character of that power
which depended so completely upon the life of a single man. Sinister
reports were circulated during the campaign in Italy; the names of Carnot,
Moreau, and La Fayette had been put forward. The triumphant arrival of the
First Consul promptly baffled the intrigues in which the principals
interested had never taken part; nevertheless, he nursed against Carnot an
unjust feeling, which soon betrayed itself in his dismissal. Lucien
Bonaparte had forestalled, or badly comprehended, the wishes of his
brother; he had got Fontanes to write a pamphlet entitled "Caesar,
Cromwell, and Bonaparte," which revealed projects and hopes in favor of
the First Consul for which the public was not prepared. "Happy for the
Republic," it was said, "if Bonaparte were immortal? But where are his
successors? Who is the successor of Pericles? Frenchmen, you slumber over
an abyss, and your sleep is madly tranquil."

It was too soon to allow these premature pretensions to be thus made
public. The _finesse_ of La Fayette enabled him to penetrate the secret
hope of the First Consul, who was already occupied, and for most serious
reasons, with the re-establishment of religion in France. He was able to
say to him, with an irony that was a little scornful, "Come, general,
confess that this has no other aim than to get the little phial broken on
your head." Public opinion was not yet calling for the re-establishment of
the monarchy; it did not connect the idea of hereditary power with a
victorious general, still young, and who had scarcely seized the reins of
the government of the interior. The pamphlet, and the insinuations it
contained, had no success; Fouche was openly reprimanded for allowing the
publication. Lucien Bonaparte was sent as ambassador to Madrid, bearing,
he has declared, the manuscript of the pamphlet, with four corrections in
the handwriting of the First Consul. The latter began to surround himself
with a court. Madame Bonaparte had already her ladies and chevaliers of
honor.

St. Julien had just arrived at Paris with the ratification of the treaty
of Alessandria, and for the purpose of sounding the First Consul as to his
intentions on the subject of a definitive peace. Major-general of the
imperial armies, and little versed in diplomatic usages, he, in all
simplicity, avowed his ignorance to Talleyrand. The latter profited by
this to prevail upon the Austrian ambassador to sign the preliminary
articles. "So be it," said St. Julien, "but they will have no authority
until after their ratification by my sovereign." The major-general was not
authorized to treat; and the conventions he had accepted being vague as to
the most important point, the settlement of the frontiers of Italy, were
disavowed at Vienna. Thugut proposed the opening of a congress, in which
England was disposed to take part. General Duroc, aide-de-camp of the
First Consul, who had accompanied St. Julien on his return to Vienna, was
not admitted to negotiate, and found himself compelled to return to Paris.

Bonaparte's temper was quick; his irritation against England was old and
inveterate. For more than two years that power had hindered the success of
his favorite enterprises; and he struggled against her in her commercial
interests, as well as in her military efforts, with a perseverance worthy
of Pitt. He had already won over the United States to the doctrine of the
greater part of European States as to the rights of neutrals, and
concluded with their diplomatists the treaty of Morfontaine; he then
worked to raise up against England a formidable coalition, at the head of
which the Emperor Paul I. had just placed himself. Strongly influenced in
favor of France by the offer the First Consul had made to cede to him
Malta, then besieged by the English, the Czar also received with
satisfaction the 6000 Russian prisoners whom Bonaparte sent to him without
ransom, after having vainly solicited exchanges with England and Russia.
The maritime powers of the north of Europe had to complain of vexatious
interference with merchant vessels on the part of England. The law of the
seas, said they, authorized them to carry on commerce between one power
and another, goods contraband of war alone excepted; as the flag covered
the merchandise, English vessels could not legitimately stop and visit
ships of neutral countries, in order to seize French or Spanish
commodities. The theory of England was different, serving her own
commercial and military interests. In 1800 the Emperor Paul embraced the
cause of the maritime powers, and formed against England the League of
Neutrals, whilst he entered into amicable relations, and a sort of
alliance, with the First Consul. At the same time Bonaparte negotiated
with the King of Spain, offering him Tuscany, with the title of King of
Etruria, for his son-in-law the Duke of Parmo, on condition that France
should receive back Louisiana, formerly ceded to Spain by Louis XV. for an
indemnity claim. Charles IV. also engaged himself to use his influence to
have the ports of Portugal closed against England. Before admitting
England to the congress, the First Consul demanded that the continental
armistice should be extended to naval forces, as the suspension of
maritime hostilities would permit him to revictual Malta and Egypt; he
accepted on these terms the common negotiations.

England rejected, and could not but reject, these proposals. She already
held the conquest of Malta as certain; and since Bonaparte himself had
quitted Egypt, the English soldiers and marines no longer doubted the
ultimate success of their efforts against us, everywhere united with those
of the Porte. Egypt was henceforth a point so important for England that
she had resolved never to yield to the passionate caprices which had led
General Bonaparte to establish the French dominion there. In the month of
August, 1800, she could not accept an armistice which would of necessity
have prolonged the war in the East. In the month of November, 1799,
letters of General Kleber, sincere and discouraged, had fallen into the
hands of the English Government. Entrusted since the departure of General
Bonaparte with the chief command, Kleber displayed to the Directory the
sad state of his army and his finances. Five months had passed, and
nothing new had taken place; no succor had arrived from France. Kleber had
lent his ear to the proposals of the vizier and Sir Sidney Smith.
Bonaparte himself had foreseen the circumstances under which the
evacuation of Egypt would become necessary; he had left upon this subject
peremptory and haughty instructions. Kleber forestalled the term marked
out by the general who had let his mantle fall upon his shoulders, and he
concluded the treaty of El Arish, a monument of his sorrow and desolation.
The signature of Desaix, who negotiated it, was mournfully wrung from him,
after he had required from the general-in-chief a formal order to put his
name to it. Negotiated between military men, it was not countersigned with
the signature of the plenipotentiary, who himself had not better authority
to negotiate. The Government of Great Britain, informed of the distress of
General Kleber, sent to Admiral Keith a formal injunction forbidding him
to treat with the French army, unless they surrendered as prisoners of
war. Sir Sidney Smith immediately made known to Kleber the orders he had
received; the honorable conditions which the French general had previously
accepted were already in process of execution; several places had been
given up to the Turks; the vizier had advanced. Kleber, however, did not
hesitate. He published to the army the letter of the English commodore,
with these words: "Soldiers! such insolence as this is only answered by
victories: prepare to give battle."

It is a noble spectacle, that of resolute men reduced to extremities
without fleeing from danger. On March 20 the French army went out from
Cairo; diminished by death and sickness it numbered no more than 12,000
men, who formed themselves into squares, according to the old tactics of
the troops of Egypt, in front of the ancient ruins of Heliopolis. Kleber
estimated at 70,000 or 80,000 men the Turkish army which was to assail
him. "My friends," said he in passing along the ranks, "you possess in
Egypt only the ground which you have beneath your feet! If you retreat a
step, you are lost!" Having thus spoken, he gave the order to carry the
entrenched village of El Matarieh. The little redoubts were already in our
possession when the Janissaries made their first rush upon the Friant
division. The squares remained immovable, keeping up a continuous fire,
enveloped in smoke, and scarcely distinguishing the mass of the enemies
who were falling at their feet. When the clouds began to disperse, a
rampart of corpses surrounded all the French corps; in the distance were
seen the enemy in flight. Kleber order a pursuit, which was continued
during three days. When the general-in-chief at length reached the camp of
the vizier at Salahieh he only found a few detachments of the enemy. The
chiefs had disappeared in the desert, with their best troops. The French
soldiers pillaged the tents: they were loaded with rich spoils when they
retook the road to Cairo.

The capital of Egypt, never in complete submission, and disturbed by
frequent insurrections, had revolted at the announcement of the evacuation
and the departure of the French army; crimes had been committed, and the
Christians had been massacred in several quarters. Kleber laid siege to
it; the resistance was long and furious, and it was as conquerors that the
French re-entered the city which formerly cost them such slight efforts.
All the rebel cities of Lower Egypt were again brought back into obedience
to France. The war indemnities and the prizes taken from the enemy
restored the finances. Kleber labored for the completion of the forts
scattered over the hills; he enrolled Copts, Syrians, and some blacks from
Darfour; he treated with Murad Bey, who had driven from Upper Egypt the
Turkish corps of Dervish Pacha; Ibrahim Bey and Nassif Pacha, who had
sustained the revolt of Cairo, obtained an authorization to retire. Egypt
appeared to be once more submissive; but the illusions which the
Mohammedans had conceived were promptly dissipated: they recognized their
traditional enemies, and the old fanaticism was reawakened. An assassin
had already arrived in Cairo from Palestine, and shut up in the great
mosque he had confided to the sheiks his project of killing General
Kleber. They sought to dissuade him from it, but without informing the
French. On the 14th of June, as the general was walking in his garden with
the architect of the army, Suleiman presented himself before him,
pretending to ask alms, and struck him several times with his dagger. The
architect was wounded in striving to defend Kleber. When the soldiers came
hurrying up the general had already breathed his last. The assassin made
no attempt to flee; he expired under torture. At Cairo, and on the
battlefield of Marengo, Kleber and Desaix succumbed on the same day, and
almost at the same hour, both young, and serving to their last day the
designs of the chief to whom they were very unequally attached. The First
Consul wished to unite them in the same patriotic honors; he had never had
much liking for Kleber, but he did not the less keenly feel the greatness
of his loss. General Menou, who took by seniority the command of the army
of Egypt was incapable, and of a chimerical spirit. Bonaparte comprehended
the danger which threatened that one of his conquests to which he attached
the most importance; he increased the reinforcements of men and munitions,
but he was in want of generals, and the war was recommencing in Europe.
The English had just succeeded at last in taking Malta.

The armistice had been prolonged for eighty-five days, and the Emperor of
Austria had paid for this moment of peace by the surrender of the cities
of Ulm, Philipsburg, and Ingoldstadt; the preliminaries, which Cobentzel
had drawn out to great length, had brought about no result. Austria
refused to negotiate without England, to whom she was allied by a treaty
of subsidies. In contempt of the convention of Alessandria, the French
troops occupied Tuscany; Massena no longer commanded the army of Italy.
Quarrels had arisen with the Italian administrations, who said they were
victims of heavy exactions. Massena was accused; in the depth of his soul
he was discontented, and was always little favorable to the First Consul.
Brune had replaced him. At the expiration of the armistice, and in spite
of the new attempts at negotiations, the troops entered on the campaign.
General Bonaparte still remained at Paris, ready to proceed at need to the
threatened points. All eyes were fixed on Germany; by a common instinct
great military events upon this theatre were look forward to.

The Archduke John was young and daring; he conceived the hope of cutting
off the army of General Moreau, and imprudently crossing the Inn, the
difficult passage of which the French dreaded, he advanced immediately
towards the Isar, intending to reascend the river in our rear. But already
the difficulties of the enterprise became apparent; the young general
resolved to give battle immediately. An advantage gained on the 1st of
December, over the left wing of the French army, emboldened him to the
point of pushing forward across the forest of Hohenlinden, in the vain
hope of encountering no resistance. General Moreau waited for him in the
plain between Hohenlinden and Harthofen; Generals Richepanse and Decaen
had been directed to take the Austrians in the rear. Moreau had exactly
calculated the time necessary for this operation. The battle commenced at
the exit from the forest; as fast as they debouched upon the plain the
Austrian corps encountered the attack of our troops. Across the snow,
which fell in great flakes, the general-in-chief discerned a little
confusion in the ranks of the enemy. "The moment has come to charge," he
cried; "Richepanse has taken them in the rear." General Ney rushed forward
at the head of his division; he rejoined his companions at the centre of
the defile mingled with the confused crowd of the enemy, which they drove
before them. The centre of the Austrian army was completely hemmed in; the
left wing had been thrown back upon the Inn by Decaen. The French
divisions who were engaged on the right, repulsed for a moment, had in
their turn forced the Austrians to redescend into the valley. The plain of
Hohenlinden remained in the hands of the French army. The enemy lost 8000
men killed or wounded, 12,000 prisoners, and eighty-seven pieces of
cannon. General Lecourbe passed the Inn close behind the Archduke John,
the division of Decaen crossed the Salza and seconded the movement of
Lecourbe; General Moreau crossed the Traun, and advanced towards the Ens.
The Archduke Charles, drawn from his disgrace by the danger of his
country, resumed the command of the Austrian troops. It was too late to
snatch back victory; he accepted the sorrowful duty of arresting the
conqueror's progress by negotiations. Moreau had arrived at Steyer, a few
leagues from Vienna; the ardor of his lieutenants urged him to march
forward. "It would, without doubt, be a fine thing to enter Vienna," he
replied; "but it is a much finer thing to dictate peace." The armistice
was signed on the 25th of December, 1800, delivering to the French all the
valley of the Danube, with the Tyrol, various fortresses, and immense
magazines. The army of Augereau, which had had adventure enough on the
Rednitz, was included in the armistice; the generals commanding in Italy
and in the Grisons, Macdonald and Brune, were to be engaged to accept a
suspension of arms. The modest prudence and consummate cleverness of
General Moreau had assured to our arms advantages which at length promised
peace. Bonaparte perceived this, not without secret heartburning; but for
a time he felt himself compelled to dissemble. "I cannot tell you all the
interest I have taken in your admirable and wise manoeuvres," he wrote to
Moreau; "in this campaign you have surpassed yourself."

The orders of the First Consul caused the war in Italy to be ardently
pushed forward. "Wherever a couple of men can plant their feet, an army
can find the means of passing," said General Bonaparte; and Macdonald had
led his 15,000 men across the passes of the Spluegen, among rocks and
glaciers, obliged to open a path by the oxen, who trod down the snow in
order to permit the soldiers to advance; he left behind him numerous
victims of cold and fatigue. The army of the Grisons had arrived at Trent,
the efforts of General Wukassovich having failed to arrest its progress.
Brune had conducted his operations more gently; when he marched towards
the Mincio, in order to cross it at two points, the imprudence of the
attack and the division of the forces led to a great shedding of blood; it
was only on the 31st December that the passage of the Adige was at last
effected. The corps of General Moncey rejoined the forces of Macdonald at
Trent; the Count of Laudon, close pressed, could only save his troops by a
subterfuge, by forestalling the armistice, which did not yet extend to the
armies of Italy. He had rejoined the Count of Bellegarde, when all
military operations were suspended by a convention signed at Treviso.

Cobentzel and Joseph Bonaparte had remained at Luneville during the
resumption of hostilities, negotiating mutual concessions, of which the
cannon every day altered the conditions. The success of his armies, and
the attitude of the powers of the north, enlarged the pretensions of the
First Consul; the Austrian plenipotentiary defended with persevering
courage the frontier of the Adda, and the re-establishment of the Italian
princes in their States, when the instructions of Bonaparte to his brother
were all of a sudden altered. Order was given to retard the conclusion of
peace; at the same time, as if for the purpose of calling upon Austria to
bow to imperious necessity, the First Consul sent to the Corps Legislatif
a message, which was a bold evidence of the newest phase of his diplomacy.

"Legislators, the Republic triumphs, and its enemies once more implore its
moderation.

"The news of the victory of Hohenlinden has resounded throughout Europe;
that day will be reckoned in history as one of the grandest examples of
French valor. But it has been thought little of by our defenders, who only
think themselves victors when the country has no more enemies. The army of
the Rhine has passed the Inn; every day has been a battle, and every
battle a triumph. The Gallo-Batavian army has conquered at Bamberg; the
army of the Grisons, through snow and ice, has crossed the Spluegen, in
order to turn the formidable lines of the Mincio and the Adige. The army
of Italy has carried by main force the passage of the Mincio, and has
blockaded Mantua. Lastly, Moreau is no more than five days' march from
Vienna, master of an immense tract of country, and of all the magazines of
the enemy.

"It is at this juncture that the Archduke Charles has asked, and the
general-in-chief of the army of the Rhine has accorded, the armistice of
which the conditions are about to be placed before you.

"Cobentzel, plenipotentiary of the Emperor at Luneville, has declared
himself ready to open negotiations for a separate peace. Thus Austria is
freed from the influence of the English Government.

"The Government, faithful to its principles and to the prayer of humanity,
confides to you, and proclaims to France and entire Europe, the intentions
which animate it.

"The left bank of the Rhine shall be the limit of the French Republic; she
claims nothing on the right bank. The interests of Europe will not permit
the emperor to pass the Adige. The independence of the Helvetic and
Batavian Republics shall be assured and recognized. Our victories add
nothing to the claims of the French people. Austria ought not to expect
from its defeats that which it would not have obtained by victories. Such
are the unchangeable intentions of the Government. It will be the
happiness of France to restore calm to Germany and Italy; its glory to
enfranchise the continent from the covetous and malevolent influence of
England.

"If our good faith is still deceived, we are at Prague, at Vienna, at
Venice."

So many rigorous conditions, thus arrogantly announced, were, and could
not fail to be, the object of discussions and stubborn resistance. But
even these did not satisfy the will of the First Consul, and his
resolution to snatch the last concessions from the conquered. The Emperor
Paul, in his capacity of Grand Master of the Order, demanded from England
the cession of the island of Malta. Upon the refusal of the British
Government, he placed an embargo on all English vessels found in his
ports, at the same time announcing the despatch of a plenipotentiary to
Paris. In accord with Prussia, he admitted the principle of the granting
of indemnities to the deposed Italian princes by the secularization of the
ecclesiastical territories in Germany. Cobentzel was constantly opposed to
this arrangement; he equally refused to deliver Mantua to France as a
condition of the armistice in Italy. Abandoned by the neutral powers,
isolated in Germany, and separated from England, who alone remained openly
hostile to France, the Austrian envoy saw himself constrained to accept
conditions harder than those the rigor of which he had formerly deplored.
On the 9th February, 1801, the treaty of Luneville was at last signed. A
single concession had been accorded to Cobentzel; France had consented to
surrender the places which she held on the right bank of the Rhine. She
insisted, however, that the fortifications should be demolished.
"Dismantle them yourselves," said the Austrian plenipotentiary,
sorrowfully, "and we will engage that they shall remain in the condition
in which they are surrendered." This was the last hope, and the last
effort of diplomacy. Upon the very morning of the signature, and with
reference to the obstinate persistence of Cobentzel, Joseph Bonaparte
declared, in language which was not his own, "that if the termination of
the war was favorable to France, the house of Austria ought to expect to
find the valley of the Adige on the crest of the Julian Alps; and that
there was no power in Europe which did not see with pleasure the Austrians
expelled from Italy."

The bases of the treaty of Luneville were identical with those of the
treaty of Campo Formio. Austria lost in Germany the bishopric of Salzburg,
assured as an indemnity to the Grand Duke of Tuscany, and in Italy the
territories of this prince were granted to the Duke of Parma. The articles
made no mention of Piedmont or Parma, or of the Pontifical States. The
First Consul did not wish to commit himself on this point or encounter the
sluggish proceedings of a congress. The Emperor of Austria had treated for
the Empire as for himself. The Diet assembled at Ratisbon simply ratified
the conditions of the treaty. Henceforth England found itself isolated in
Europe, as France had been in 1793. The duel continued between Bonaparte
and Pitt.

So much _eclat_ abroad, so much glory and success terminating in an almost
general peace, did not absorb all the thoughts of the First Consul, and
had not yet succeeded in founding his power on a lasting basis. He felt it
bitterly, and the irritation which he experienced habitually manifested
itself against the remnants of the Jacobin party, the declared enemies of
the order of things which he wished to establish, capable, he thought, of
any crimes, and whose works he had had the opportunity of judging. This
exclusive preoccupation sometimes turned away his attention from more
pressing perils and bolder enemies. A conspiracy to which the police had
lent themselves, and which had failed without any of the accomplices
daring to put their hands on their arms, roused public attention, in the
month of October, 1800, to the dangers which pursued the First Consul.
Since then there had been seized, at the house of a mechanician named
Chevalier, an explosive machine which had given rise to certain
suspicions; but no attempt had been made, and the conspirators, who
plotted in the dark, were as yet only known to Fouche, the minister of
police, clever and foreseeing, constantly hostile to the old enemies of
the Republic, and more disquieted than the First Consul at the royalist
manoeuvres. It was to the Chouans and men of that class that the police
attributed the brigandage which infested the roads in the departments of
the west, the centre, and the south; it was the descents of their former
chiefs upon the Norman coasts which preoccupied Fouche. At one period the
royalists had thought General Bonaparte capable of playing the _role_ of
Monk, and accepting that modest ambition. On the 20th of February, 1800,
Louis XVIII. wrote to him with his own hand, "Whatever may be their
apparent conduct, men like yourself, monsieur, never inspire uneasiness.
You have accepted an eminent place, and I am thankful for it. Better than
any one you know how much force and power are needed to make the happiness
of a great nation. Save France from its own madness, and you will have
accomplished the first desire of my heart; restore to it its king, and
future generations will bless your memory. You will always be too much a
necessity of the State for me ever to discharge by the highest
appointments the debt of my forefathers and my own."

This letter remained unanswered. Louis XVIII. thought he ought to write
again. "For a long time, general," said he yon ought to know that you have
won my esteem. If you have any doubt as to my being susceptible of
gratitude, appoint your place, and decide as to the position of your
friends. As to my principles, I am French; merciful by character, I should
be still more so by reason.

"No, the conqueror of Lodi, of Castiglione, of Arcola, the conqueror of
Italy and Egypt, cannot prefer a vain notoriety to glory. But you are
losing precious time. We can assure the peace of France; I say _we_,
because I need Bonaparte for that, and he cannot do it without me.

"General, Europe observes you, glory waits for you, and I am impatient to
restore peace to my people."

Sad illusions of exiles, who in a remote country know not how to judge
either men or circumstances! Louis XVIII. and his friends were blind as to
the state of men's minds in France, which they believed ripe for a
monarchical restoration; they comprehended neither the character nor the
still veiled designs of the man who had conquered, by the audacity of his
genius, military glory and the civil authority. In the depth of his soul,
and in spite of his firm design to mount the throne by means of absolute
power, Bonaparte was, and remained, revolutionary--hostile to the remains
of the past by conviction as well as by personal ambition. He wrote to
Louis XVIII. on the 7th September, 1800. "I have received, monsieur, your
letter; I thank you for the fair words you have spoken. You ought not to
desire your return to France; it would be necessary for you to march over
500,000 corpses. Sacrifice your interests for the repose and happiness of
France; history will take account of you for it.

"I am not insensible to the misfortune of your family. I shall contribute
with pleasure to the comfort and tranquillity of your retreat."

Five hundred thousand corpses of French soldiers were yet to strew the
soil of Europe to serve the ambition of Bonaparte, without hindering that
return of the House of Bourbon which he declared to be so disastrous. In
1800 the First Consul deigned to promise his benevolence to the
descendants of Henry IV., and felt no fear as to royalist intrigues in
France. Since the troubles had ceased in the west, only Georges Cadoudal
had continued sometimes to attract his attention. A letter in the month of
July had ordered Bernadotte to pursue him: "Have this miserable Georges
arrested, and shot within twenty-four hours," he wrote. Georges had
returned to England.

He was back again in France on the 24th December, 1800, when the coach of
the First Consul was stopped in the Rue St. Nicaise by a small cart which
barred the way; the coachman urged forward the horses, and passed it. At
the same instant an explosion was heard; the dead and the wounded fell
round the carriage of Bonaparte, shaken by the violence of the shock, all
the windows being broken. Bonaparte stopped his carriage, and comprehended
at once the cause of the accident. "Drive to the opera!" said he. Madame
Bonaparte was waiting for him there. When the public was reassured by his
presence, he returned to the Tuileries. A barrel of powder, loaded with
grape-shot, had been placed upon the road; the victims were numerous, and
the assassins escaped.

The general fright was of use to the anger and emotion of the First
Consul. The enemies of Fouche denounced a police everywhere favorable to
the old Jacobins. The suspicions of Bonaparte were all directed against
these known and furious enemies of his person and his policy. He was
enraged in his irritation, and disdained, according to his custom, the
legal forms and the justice of the tribunals. "We must make the number of
the convicted equal to the number of their victims," he said, "and
transport all their adherents. I will not have all quarters of Paris
successively undermined. There are always Septembrisers, miscreants
covered with crimes, in square battalion against every successive
government. It is necessary to make an end of them." Fouche, silent but
imperturbable, for a long time on the traces of the conspiracy, persisted
in seeing in the infernal machine the work of the agents of Chouannerie.
The Council of State proposed to institute a military commission and
authorize the First Consul to remove the men who appeared dangerous.
Bonaparte was irritated by this slowness of justice. "The action of a
special tribunal will be slow," said he; "it will not get hold of the
truly guilty. It is not a question of judicial metaphysics. There are in
France 10,000 miscreants who have persecuted all honest men, and who are
steeped in blood. They are not all culpable in the same degree, far from
it. Strike the chiefs boldly and the soldiers will disperse. There is no
middle course here; it is necessary to pardon all, like Augustus, or else
there must be a prompt and terrible vengeance proportionate to the crime.
It is necessary to shoot fifteen or twenty of these miscreants, and
transport 200 of them. I am so convinced of the necessity of purging
France from these sanguinary dregs that I am ready to constitute myself
sole tribunal--to bring forward the guilty, examine them, judge them, and
have their condemnation carried into effect. It is not myself that I seek
to avenge here. I am as ready to die as First Consul for the preservation
of the Republic and the Constitution as to fall upon the field of battle;
but it is necessary to reassure France, who will approve my policy."

The members of the council listened, struck with consternation at such
absolutist and revolutionary violence, but already too much dismayed to
defend the cause of the most elementary justice. Admiral Truguet alone
suggested doubts as to the true authors of the crime. "It is desired,"
said he, "to defeat the miscreants who trouble the Republic, so be it; but
the miscreants are of more than one kind. The returned emigrants menace
those who have acquired national property, the Chouans infest the
highways, the priests inflame the passions of the people, the public
spirit is corrupted by pamphlets." The First Consul blushed violently at
this allusion; the reminder of the unfortunate attempt of Lucien Bonaparte
increased his anger. Advancing towards the admiral, "Of what pamphlets do
you speak?" cried he. "You know as well as I do," without giving way,
answered the brave sailor.

The First Consul paced the hall; the councillors of State watched him,
vaguely recognizing in the outbursts of the anger of the master the
powerful instinct of government, which discerned the permanent hostility
of the revolutionaries without being able to divest itself of their
principles or of their modes of action. "Do people take us for children?"
he cried. "Do they expect to draw us aside with these declamations against
the emigrants, the Chouans, and the priests? Because there are still a few
partial attempts in Vendee, must we be called upon to declare the country
in danger? If the Chouans commit crimes, I will have them shot. But must I
commence proscribing for a quality? Must I strike these because they are
priests, those because they are old nobles? Must I send away into exile
10,000 old men, who only ask to be allowed to live peaceably in obedience
to the established laws? Do you not know, gentlemen, members of the
council, that excepting two or three you all pass for royalists? You,
Citizen Defermon, don't they take you for a partisan of the Bourbons? Must
I send Citizen Portalis to Sinnamari, and Citizen Devaisne to Madagascar,
and then must I make for myself a Babeuf council? No, no, Citizen Truguet,
you won't get me to make any change; there are none to fear except the
Septembrisers. They would not spare even you yourself, and it would be in
vain for you to tell them that you defended them at the Council of State.
They would cut your throat, just the same as mine or the throats of your
colleagues."

He went out without giving time for any one to answer him. Cambaceres,
moderate and prudent, equally clever in giving counsel and at yielding
when counsels were useless, deemed the anger of the First Consul too
passionate to admit of contradiction. The Council of State, several times
consulted, was brought over with repugnance to the idea of an
extraordinary measure. The First Consul wished a law; it was decided to
involve the great bodies of the State in the arbitrary act which he was
about to commit. "The consuls do not know what may happen," said he. "So
long as I am alive I am not afraid of any one daring to ask me an account
of my actions; but I may be killed, and then I cannot answer for my two
colleagues. You are not very firmly placed in your stirrups," he added,
turning to Cambaceres, with a smile. "Better to have a law now as well as
for the future." The Council of State hesitated from a repugnance to form
a proscription list, assuring him that it would be rejected by the
Tribunate and the Legislative Body. "You are always afraid of the
Tribunate," said Bonaparte, "because it rejected one or two of your laws;
but there are only a few Jacobins in the Legislative Body, ten or twelve
at most. The others know well that but for me they would all have been
massacred. The law will be passed."

At last, Talleyrand, who had previously remained silent, said that since
there was a Senate, some use should be made of it. The proscription list
was sent to the Senate. It had been written by Fouche, who knew the real
criminals; and the statement of reasons were drawn up by the two sections
of the Council of State who were at first unanimously opposed to the
measure: the Senate voted, the First Consul having signed the act. "All
these men have not taken the dagger in their hands," said the preamble,
"but they are all universally known to be capable of sharpening it and
taking it." Two days afterwards 133 Jacobins sailed from Nantes for
Guiana--formerly members of the Convention and the Commune, proved or
supposed to have had a part in the massacres of September, all certainly
loaded with crime, and worthy of the punishment which they underwent,
strangers to the attempt to assassinate the First Consul, and condemned
without regard to moral or legal justice. At the same time, and as if to
clear off all old accounts with the conspirators, the four men accused in
October, Arena, formerly a representative, and recently employed by the
Committee of Public Safety, and the artists Ceracchi and Topino-Lebrun,
were at last tried, and condemned to perish on the scaffold. Chauveau-
Lagarde defended them, as he had formerly defended Charlotte Corday and
the men of Nantes denounced by Carrier. His efforts were not crowned with
success; whether acknowledged or only suspected, the Jacobin conspiracy
was everywhere repressed with the same rigor.

Nevertheless, Fouche had at last recovered the temporarily lost traces of
the real criminals. Two assistants of Georges Cadoudal, Limoelan and St.
Rejant, who had formerly taken part in the civil wars, entered into
partnership with a man of the lower orders named Carbon, who bought them
the cart, the horse, and powder. He was found concealed in Paris; Limoelan
had fled abroad. St. Rejant, who had let off the infernal machine, had not
yet recovered from the injuries caused by it; and Carbon having betrayed
his place of concealment, and all the details of the plot, they were both
executed. Fouche's penetration on this occasion gained him still greater
confidence with the First Consul. "He was right," repeated Bonaparte: "his
opinion was better than that of the others. The returned emigrants, the
royalist plotters, and people of that sort, ought to be closely watched. I
am pleased, however, to be rid of the Jacobin staff."

Neither the banishment of the old revolutionists, nor the condemnation of
those who had contrived the infernal machine, had disturbed the repose of
public opinion, then in close alliance with the steady and firm power
which ruled France. The abstract principles of justice were no longer
thought of by men in general: the desire for permanent freedom had given
place to the longing for rest and quiet, and all were pleased with the
energy which the government had shown against disturbers of the peace; and
the oppressive laws being modified, prosperity was reappearing. The state
of the finances became more satisfactory: a part of the public funds had
been paid, and that which still remained had just been registered in the
"Great Ledger;" the fundholders accepted without too much difficulty the
delay in paying the first dividend. The national property not yet sold was
set apart for the liquidation, excepting what was assigned for public
instruction and the support of the Invalides. Everywhere roads were being
made or repaired, canals dug, and three bridges were built over the Seine.
In spite of the formation of extraordinary tribunals, the great Code of
Civil Law was being slowly made--destined to rule France and extend her
useful action. An agent, almost unknown at Rome and only recently arrived
in Paris, was already discussing with Abbe Bernier those great questions
of order and organization which were afterwards to introduce the
concordat. Peace, even when partial and precarious, was everywhere bearing
its fruits; at home, France displayed that wonderful recuperative power so
frequently and painfully put to the proof by the severe shocks of our
modern history; abroad, her importance in Europe was daily increasing, and
caused more disquiet to all her enemies. The government of England,
however, was soon to pass from Pitt's hands: the whole English nation
called loudly to stop a war of which they had financially borne the
burden, even though their armies had generally had little share in it.

In the south of Europe the First Consul, while negotiating with the Pope,
and occupying Piedmont without diplomacy, had no longer any enemy to
subdue worthy of his power. Murat had invaded the kingdom of Naples,
causing so great terror that the queen herself was on the point of
accepting an armistice by which the ports of the Two Sicilies were closed
to the English. The treaty of definitive peace was signed at Florence on
the 18th of March, 1801, the conditions being the same as those of the
armistice, with the important addition that the territory of Elba, a
dependency of the kingdom of Naples, was to be ceded. By a secret article,
the sovereign of the Two Sicilies was obliged to receive and maintain a
body of fifteen thousand men, which the First Consul intended to transport
to Egypt, important armaments being prepared in our ports in order to be
sent to the same place, their real destination being yet concealed. A
Franco-Spanish expedition, nominally commanded by Prince de la Paix but
really directed by General Gouvion St. Cyr, was to attempt in April the
conquest of Portugal. In spite of repeated promises, the government of
that small State remained obstinately faithful to England.

England was suffering from a scarcity of food which threatened to become a
famine, constantly made worse by the hindrances put in the way of her
commerce. The difficulties of the home government increased those of the
diplomatic and military isolation which she underwent in Europe. At the
moment of the conclusion of the Treaty of Union, Pitt had entered upon
engagements with the Irish Catholics which he felt himself bound to
fulfil. The conscientious but shortsighted and narrow-minded George III.
opposed every act of toleration with respect to his Catholic subjects: he
refused to give his assent, and Pitt by resigning his post sacrificed, at
a perilous crisis for his country, foreign policy to the duties and
obligations of parliamentary tactics. The reason of King George, already
tottering, was unable to undergo so much agitation; he remained faithful
to his convictions, but was for a short time out of his mind. When he
regained his faculties, Pitt, who was moved to the heart by the trouble
which he had caused to his aged king, and disturbed by the evils which
threatened England under the regency of the Prince of Wales, undertook
never to raise the question of the emancipation of the Catholics during
the life of George III. He had no seat, however, in the new cabinet, which
was obviously incapable, and unequal to the difficult task which it had
undertaken, and in their earlier proceedings still influenced by Pitt's
action, and following the line of policy which he had traced. Scarcely had
Addington become prime minister, when an attempt which had long been
projected against Denmark was put in execution. Nelson had charge of it
under the superior command of Sir Hyde Parker, who was above him in the
order of seniority. "This is no time to feel nervous," said Nelson to his
superior as they were setting sail. "Dark nights and mountains of ice
matter little; we must take courage to meet the enemy."

Having passed the Sound, the English squadron blockaded the fleet which
covered Copenhagen. The Danes made an heroic defence, and the old Admiral
Parker, somewhat alarmed, gave the signal for the action to cease. "I'll
be d----d first!" cried Nelson in a passion: "I have the right of seeing
badly"--putting his telescope to the eye which he had lost at Aboukir. "I
don't see the signal. Nail mine to the mast. Let them press closer on the
enemy. That's my reply to such signalling." It was Nelson, moreover, who,
when the battle was gained, arranged with the Prince Royal of Denmark the
terms of the armistice which separated his country from the number of the
neutral states.

Almost at the same moment the coalition of maritime powers underwent a
more fatal check. For several months the strange workings of the mind of
the Emperor Paul I. had become more obvious. Everybody trembled before
him, and even the empress, as well as her sons, had been threatened with
banishment to Siberia. A caricature was published representing the Czar
holding in one hand a paper on which was written the word "order;" in the
other, the word "counter-order;" on his forehead was read the word
"disorder." A conspiracy was formed, including the principal nobles and
the most intimate members of his household. "They are conspiring against
me, Pahlen," said the emperor to the Governor of St. Petersburg. "Let your
Majesty's mind be easy," replied the Russian, coolly; "I am up to them."
He really was so, and on the night of the 23rd March, 1801, he entered the
Michael palace with the conspirators. The next in importance to him,
General Benningsen, had afterwards the honor of fighting bravely against
the Emperor Napoleon when subduing Poland; he was already distinguished,
and had been decorated with all the orders of the empire. On making his
way to the bedroom of the Czar, who was asleep, the two Hungarians who
formed the only guard ran away after striking one or two blows; the
palace-guard were already on an understanding with the conspirators. The
unfortunate Czar, pursued by the assassins, took refuge behind a screen.
Benningsen observing him held out a paper: "There is your act of
abdication," said he; "sign it and I answer for your life." The emperor
resisted; the conspirators crowded into the room; the lamp fell and was
extinguished, and in that moment of darkness a scarf was tightened round
the neck of Paul I., and he was struck on the head with the pummel of a
sword. When a light was brought in he was dead.

Count Pahlen had not entered the room, being engaged in guarding the doors
with a troop of soldiers: he went to call on the new emperor. Alexander
was not ignorant of the plot formed to force from his father an abdication
which had become necessary; but he had not considered, and did not
anticipate, the fatal consequences of that enterprise. Pahlen's silence
was the only reply to his questions about the Czar: the young man burst
into tears, hiding his face in his hands and heaping reproaches upon the
Governor of St. Petersburg, who still remained motionless before him. But
by this time the empress, out of her mind from sorrow, and suddenly seized
with an ill-regulated ambition, sent to announce to her son that she was
resolved to take possession of the power. Count Pahlen at once threw off
his apathy. "Enough of childish tears," said he to the young emperor;
"now, come and reign!" He then presented him to the troops, by whom he was
well received.

A few days afterwards the Emperor Alexander was crowned. "Before him
marched his grandfather's murderers," wrote Madame de Bonneuil, "beside
him those of his father, and behind him his own." Count Pahlen's ambition
was to govern the young monarch, but he was not to reap the fruits of his
crime. The empress-mother insisted upon the banishment of the murderers of
Paul I. In the retirement of his country estate, where he lived a long
time, the count on the 23rd of March made himself drunk from daybreak, in
order to pass in oblivion the dreaded anniversary which awoke in his mind
a remorse which was only slumbering. "That's the regular mode of
deposition in Russia," said Talleyrand, cynically, on hearing of the
emperor's assassination. The First Consul's anger overcame his judgment.
"The wretches!" he exclaimed; "they failed here on the 3rd Nivose, but
they have not failed in St. Petersburg." And bent on showing his spite
towards his enemies, he had the following note inserted in the _Moniteur_:
"Paul I. died on the night of the 23rd March, and the English squadron
passed the Sound on the 31st. History will inform us the relation that
possibly exists between these two events."

History has done justice to those false insinuations, unworthy even of him
who pronounced them. Admiral Nelson felt no joy at the death of the
Emperor Paul, which finally broke the league of the neutrals, and deprived
him of the easy triumph which he made sure of gaining over the Russian
fleet. It was of service, however, to England, and contributed to assist
the wish for peace which was beginning to be awakened in the mind of the
First Consul. Scarcely was the Emperor of Russia dead, when Piedmont, long
protected by his favor, was reduced to the condition of a French
department: but it was in vain that Bonaparte pretended to reckon on the
alliance of the young Czar, in vain that Duroc was despatched to St.
Petersburg with a mission of confidence; he was not deceived as to the
Emperor Alexander's leaning to ally himself with England. In fact, M.
Otto, who had been sent to London to arrange the exchange of prisoners,
had already several weeks previously been authorized to meet favorably the
advances made by Lord Hawkesbury, then the foreign minister. On both sides
they tried to gain time. The great question which then separated France
and England, the possession of Egypt, remained undecided, and both sides
determined that it should be settled. On the 7th of March, 1801, the
English squadron of the Mediterranean, which was long stationed at Mahon,
and had recently been directed towards Malta, suddenly disembarked a body
of 18,000 soldiers under the orders of Sir Ralph Abercromby. Thus, with a
Turkish contingent and the regiments of sepoys brought from India, there
were 60,000 men united against the army of occupation, which was reduced
to 15,000 or 18,000 soldiers, commanded by dissatisfied officers, and
generals who could not act together. Unfortunate in his relations to his
colleagues, and showing little tact in his application of European methods
of organization to the native population, General Menou was unable to take
the necessary precautions against the English invasion of Egypt; and in
spite of his bravery, General Friant, who was in charge of 15,000 men
defending Alexandria, could make only a feeble resistance to the landing
of the English. Assisted by General Lanusse, he again joined battle, 13th
March, on the road to Ramanieh; while General Menou--"Abdallah Menou," as
his soldiers called him after he became a Mussulman--was on march with all
his troops to assist Alexandria. After committing the fault of allowing
the English army to land, it was necessary to make haste to fight it
before it should have received the expected reinforcements. The battle of
Canopa was fought on the 21st March under disadvantageous circumstances;
and General Lanusse being killed in the action, General Reynier's
disposition prevented his supplying his chief's incapacity. The battle,
though remaining indecisive, left the English masters of the coast, and
constantly revictualled by the fleet.

For more than two months, the French army hoped and waited for the
assistance which had been promised them. Admiral Ganteaume, provided with
the best vessels of our navy, a body of picked soldiers, and supplies and
resources of every kind, had in fact set sail on the 23rd January, leaving
Brest in the midst of a frightful tempest in the hopes of escaping the
English cruisers. After being beaten about and somewhat damaged by the
sea, the French vessels made for the Straits of Gibraltar, without any
accident except a short engagement between the frigate "Bravoure" and an
English one. The admiral hesitated; in spite of his personal courage, he
felt loaded with too great a responsibility. Bringing back his squadron
almost within view of Toulon, he thought he saw Mahon's English fleet
making straight for him, and as the struggle threatened to be unequal he
returned into the harbor of Toulon. Leaving it on the 19th of March, after
his vessels were repaired and urgent orders were received from the First
Consul, he again delayed, on account of an accident which had happened to
one of his ships, and it was only on the 22nd that he finally put to sea.
On the 26th he was delayed by the collision of two vessels at Cape
Carbonara in Sardinia, and becoming discouraged and uneasy, the admiral
again entered Toulon on the 5th of April, at the moment when the English
fleet were passing Rosetta. The town was badly defended and fell into the
hands of the enemies, who thus became masters of the mouth of the Nile;
and sending some gun-boats up as far as Foueh, they soon took it. Generals
Lagrange and Morand held Ramanieh; and Menou delaying to lend the
assistance which he promised, Lagrange fell back upon Cairo, and
communication with Alexandria was interrupted. General Billiard, who
commanded in the capital of Egypt, made a sally to repulse the vizier's
troops; but in spite of several skirmishes he could not reach the main
body of the army, and returning to the town, he offered to capitulate. The
English were anxious to finish, being afraid of one of those strokes of
good fortune to which the French arms had so often owed their success. The
most honorable conditions were granted to the army, the troops evacuating
Egypt being carried back to France at the expense of England, and in their
vessels (27th June, 1801). Almost at the same moment (24th June), Admiral
Ganteaume, with his squadron reduced by sickness, at last anchored before
Derne, several marches from Alexandria; but as the people on the coast
opposed his landing, and the undertaking was hazardous and the land route
difficult, he again put to sea, thinking himself fortunate in finding in
the Straits at Candia an English ship, which he captured and brought
triumphantly to Toulon. General Menou, now alone, and shut up in
Alexandria, obstinately and heroically resisted in vain. When at last he
surrendered, he had been long forgotten in his isolation. Thus though
Bonaparte's thoughts often went back to that famous and chimerical
conquest of his youth, Egypt was definitively lost to France.

The negotiations with England had undergone the fluctuations inseparable
from the vicissitudes of a distant war, the events of which remained still
doubtful in Europe several weeks after their occurrence. The successes
gained by Admiral Linois against the English before Algesiras and Cadiz,
and the danger of Portugal threatened by the Spanish army, had their
influence no doubt upon the English cabinet, but it was still haughty and
exacting. The First Consul himself drew up a minute for the minister of
foreign affairs, giving an abstract of the concessions which he was
disposed to accept. "The French Government wishes to overlook nothing
which may lead to a general peace, that being for the interests both of
humanity and of the allies. It is for the King of England to consider if
it is also for the interests of his policy, his commerce, and his nation:
and if so, a distant island more or less can be no sufficient reason for
prolonging the unhappiness of the world.

"The question consists of three points: the Mediterranean--the Indies--
America.

"Egypt will be restored to the Porte.

"The Republic of the Seven Islands will be recognized.

"All the ports of the Adriatic and Mediterranean occupied by French troops
will be restored to the King of Naples and to the Pope.

"Mahon will be restored to Spain.

"Malta will be restored to the Order; and if the King of England should
consider it conformable to his interests as a preponderating naval power
to destroy the fortifications, that clause will be admitted.

"In India, England will keep Ceylon, and so become unassailable mistress
of those immense and wealthy countries.

"The other establishments will be restored to the allies, including the
Cape of Good Hope.

"In America, all will be restored to the former possessors. The King of
England is already so powerful in that part of the world that to wish for
more is, being absolute master of India, to wish to be so of America also.

"Portugal will be preserved in all its integrity.

"Such are the conditions which the French Government is ready to sign.

"The advantages which the British Government thus derive are immense: to
claim greater ones is not to wish a peace which is just and reciprocally
honorable.

"Martinico not having been conquered by the English arms, but placed by
the inhabitants in the hands of the English till France should have a
government, cannot be considered an English possession. France will never
give it up.

"All that now remains is for the British Government to make known the
course they wish to adopt; and if these conditions do not satisfy them, it
will be at least proved before the eyes of the world that the First Consul
has left nothing undone, and has shown himself disposed to make any
sacrifice, in order that peace may be restored and humanity spared the
tears and bloodshed which must inevitably result from a new campaign."

The concessions were in fact great, the First Consul abandoning points
which had long been disputed,--Egypt, Malta, and Ceylon; and he showed
extreme annoyance when Lord Hawkesbury refused to admit the principle of
complete restitution in America. Several threatening articles were
inserted in the _Moniteur_, and Bonaparte urgently hurried the preparation
of a fleet of gun-boats at Boulogne, which were supposed to be intended
for the invasion of England. It had long been an idea of the First
Consul's thus to intimidate the English Government, but it was only the
people on the coast who were really alarmed. Nelson wrote immediately to
the Admiralty, that "even on leaving the French harbors the landing is
impossible were it only for the difficulties caused by the tides: and as
to the notion of rowing over, it is impracticable humanly speaking." An
attempt to land a large army on the English coast was soon to become a
fixed idea in Bonaparte's mind; but then he used his armaments to disquiet
the British Government. Twice Nelson attempted to destroy our fleet, and
twice he failed completely: in the second attack, which was begun at
night, and vigorously carried on to boarding, Admiral Latouche-Treville
compelled the English ships to withdraw, after inflicting severe losses
upon them. Nevertheless, England still insisted on obtaining possession of
the island of Trinidad, which belonged to Spain. The First Consul refused
for a long time, but the Prince de la Paix had betrayed the hopes of his
imperious ally. Bonaparte had guaranteed the throne of "Etruria" to the
young Duke of Parma, and recently received in Paris the new sovereign, and
his wife, the daughter of the King of Spain, and showed the nation that
the prince was a simple lad, to be easily bent to his purposes. In return
for so many favors, the Spanish troops had with difficulty conquered a few
provinces, and King Charles IV., already reconciled to his son-in-law, the
King of Portugal, concluded the treaty of Badajoz, which closed the
harbors to the English, and granted an indemnity of twenty millions to
France. The First Consul was extremely indignant, having counted on the
threat of a war in Portugal to exercise a preponderating influence in the
negotiations in London. At first he insisted that the treaty must be
broken. "At the very time," said he, "when the First Consul places a
prince of the house of Spain on a throne which is the fruit of the
victories of the French nation, the French Republic is treated as the
Republic of San Marino might with impunity be treated. Let the Prince de
la Paix know that if he has been bought by England, and has drawn the king
and queen into measures contrary to the honor and interest of the
Republic, the last hour of the Spanish monarchy has struck."

The Prince de la Paix made ample excuses, but refused to break the treaty
of Badajoz. The real intention of the First Consul was to have peace: he
had three vessels granted him by Portugal, and abandoned the island of
Trinidad to the demands of the English Government. At one time England
also claimed Tobago, but the very terms of the treaty were displeasing to
Bonaparte's pride, and he assumed the insulting tone which he had been
accustomed to use with foreign diplomatists. "The following is what I am
directed to tell you," wrote Talleyrand: "excepting Trinidad, the First
Consul will not yield, not only Tobago, but even a single rock, if there
is one, with only a village of a hundred people; and the ground of the
First Consul's conduct is, that in the treaty he has yielded to England to
the last limit of honor, and that further there would be for the French
nation dishonor. He will grant nothing more, even if the English fleets
were anchored before Chaillot."

Lord Hawkesbury withdrew his demands as to Tobago, and the First Consul
modified his threats, both nations being eagerly desirous of peace. The
preliminaries were at last signed in London, on the 1st October, 1801; and
when, two days afterwards, the ratifications were brought from Paris by
Colonel Lauriston, the welcome news caused an irresistible outburst of joy
amongst the populace. The horses of the French envoy's carriage were
unharnessed, that he might be drawn in triumph to Lord Hawkesbury's house;
and everywhere in the streets there were shouts of "Long live Bonaparte!"
At the banquets the First Consul's health was drunk, and cheered as loudly
as the speeches in favor of the friendship of the two nations. The same
excessive delight was shown in Paris, which was soon crowded with the
foreigners whom war had long kept away; and Fox was received by the First
Consul with such flattering attentions as made a deep impression on his
mind. Party feeling had so influenced the mind of the illustrious orator
as to partially efface his patriotic sentiments. A few days after the
preliminaries were signed, he wrote to his friend Lord Grey, "I confess to
you that I go farther than you in my hatred of the English Government: the
triumph gained by France excites in me a joy I can scarcely conceal."

The public joy and hopes, both in France and England, were founded on
motives superior to those which inspired Fox's satisfaction, but they were
not more permanent, or better founded. On the day after signing the
preliminaries of London, and as if to increase the renown of his
successes, the First Consul took pleasure in concluding successively
treaties with Portugal, the Sublime Porte, the Deys of Algiers and Tunis,
Bavaria, and finally Russia. One clause of the last treaty stipulated that
both sovereigns should prevent criminal conduct on the part of emigrants
from either country. The House of Bourbon and the Poles were thus equally
deprived of important protection. The situation of the King of Sardinia
was to be regulated in every way according to actual circumstances. Each
of the conventions, and especially the treaty of peace with England
contained reticences and obscurities, which were fertile in pretexts for
war and in unfriendly interpretations. The First Consul wished to secure
an interval of rest and leisure, to consolidate his conquests at home and
abroad. He had not renounced the glorious and ill-defined project of the
imperial government which he affected to exercise over Europe. "If England
made a new coalition," he wrote to M. Otto, "the only result would be a
renewal of the history of the greatness of Rome."

It was to the honor of the First Consul, in the midst of this brilliant
political and military renown, and in spite of his impulsive and
ungovernable disposition, that he understood that the restoration of
peace, the joy of victory, and the hope of a regular government, were
unable to satisfy all the wants or regulate all the movements of the human
soul. Personally without experience of religious prejudices or feelings,
free from any connection with philosophical coteries, Bonaparte did not
limit himself to a sense of the support which religion could lend in
France to the new order which he wished to establish: he understood the
higher wants of minds and consciences, and the supreme law which assigns
to Heaven the regulation of human life. The doctrines of Christianity, as
well as the divisions of the Christian Church, were indifferent to him; he
did not understand their importance, and would have thought little of
them; but he knew that, in spite of the efforts of the eighteenth century
philosophy--in spite of the ravages caused by the French Revolution, the
attachment and respect of many for the Catholic religion had still great
power. He knew also that Catholicism could not be re-established in
France, under his auspices, without the assistance and good will of the
Court of Rome. No impression was made on his mind by the attempts made to
persuade him to found in France an independent church freed from all
connection with the Papacy, or by the arguments used in favor of
Protestantism. His traditional respect, as well as the religious sentiment
of the mass of the French nation, were in favor of Catholicism. His good
sense, as well as his profound instinct of the means of action in
government, had long urged him towards religious toleration. During his
last campaign in Italy, a circular to the cures of Milan had revived the
hopes of the Roman Court; and after Pope Pius VII. returned to his
capital, on its evacuation by the Neapolitan troops, M. Spina, at first
envoy at Turin, had followed the First Consul to Paris. He treated with
Abbe Bernier who had skilfully negotiated to bring about the pacification
of Vendee--a man of great ambition, determined to serve the government
which could raise him to the episcopal purple. The _pourparlers_ were
prolonged; the situation was difficult; the new powers founded in France
by the Revolution and by victory raised pretensions which were contrary to
the Roman tradition. They were, moreover, embarrassed by the unequal
position of the ecclesiastics who were performing in France their sacred
functions, some having submitted to the republican demands rather than
leave their country and their flocks, others believing it was their duty
to sacrifice everything to their former oaths. Proscribed and outlawed,
they had for a long time preached, said mass, and given the sacraments in
spite of an unrelenting persecution. A large number had decided to take to
flight, but having now returned, the faithful were divided between them
and the priests who had remained in France. Almost alone in Paris, and
among those men whose opinion he was accustomed to consult, the First
Consul persevered in his idea of again joining the French Church to the
general Catholic body. His patience, however, was exhausted by the delay
of the Holy College, and he resolved to have recourse to means which were
more efficacious, and more in accordance with his character. On the 13th
May, 1801, he wrote to M. Cacault, French minister at Rome, that he had
determined to accept no longer the irresolution and dilatory procedure of
the Court of Rome; if in five days the scheme sent from Paris, and long
discussed by the Sacred College, was not accepted, Cacault must leave Rome
to join, in Florence, General Murat, the commander-in-chief of the army of
Italy.

The emotion at the Vatican was great. Shortly before, when giving Cacault
his final instructions, the First Consul said, "Forget not to treat the
Pope as if he had 200,000 men at his orders." The French minister had
faithfully observed this injunction, which agreed with his personal
opinions: he knew the obstacles which still separated the new master of
France from the Roman Court. The scheme of ecclesiastical organization
proposed by Bonaparte was simple: sixty bishops named by the civil power
and confirmed by the Pope, the clergy salaried by the State, the
ecclesiastical jurisdiction transferred to the Council of State, and the
official management of religious bodies to the temporal authority. Pius
VII. agreed to accept this new condition of the Church exclusively
restored to her spiritual functions. The situation in the Church of the
priests who had taken the oath to the civil constitution of 1789, their
reconciliation to the papacy, the tacit admission of the appropriation by
the State of the ecclesiastical property, the nomination of new bishops
and consequent resignation or deprivation of those already holding the
titles,--such were the various questions which occupied Pope Pius VII. and
his skilful minister Cardinal Consalvi. Cacault tried to persuade them
that the cardinal himself must go to Paris. "Most Holy Father," said the
French minister, "it is necessary that Consalvi himself carry your reply
to Paris. What alarms me most is the character of the First Consul; that
man is never open to persuasion. Believe me, something stronger than cold
reason advises me in this matter: a mere animal instinct some would call
it, but it never deceives. What inconvenience if somehow or other you
appear yourself? You are blamed. What did they say? They wish for a
'Concordat' of religion; we anticipate them and bring it, there it is!"

Pope Pius VII. had long felt for General Bonaparte an attraction caused by
a mixed feeling of alarm and confidence. Alarm reigned in the mind of his
minister, who made up his mind to set out for Paris as if he were going to
martyrdom. "Since a victim is necessary," said he, "I devote myself, and
go to see the First Consul: let the will of God be done!" He rode in
Cacault's carriage from Rome to Florence, whence the French minister wrote
to Talleyrand,--

"Citizen Minister, here I am, arrived in Florence. The cardinal secretary
of state set out with me from Rome, and we have travelled together in the
same carriage. We were looked upon everywhere with great astonishment. The
cardinal was much afraid people should think I had withdrawn on account of
a rupture, and kept saying to everybody, 'This is the French minister.'
This country, crushed under the recent evils of war, shudders at the least
thought of military disturbance. The Roman Government has still greater
fear of its own dissatisfied subjects, especially those who have been
allured to authority and pillage by the sort of revolution just gone
through.... The cardinal set out this morning for Paris, and will arrive
shortly before my despatch, as he goes extremely quickly. The wretched man
feels that if he fails he will be irretrievably lost, and that all will be
lost for Rome. He is eager to know his lot. I tried at Rome to bring the
Pope to sign the Concordat only; and if he had granted me that point, I
should not have left Rome; but that idea was unsuccessful.

"You understand that the cardinal is not sent to Paris to sign that which
the Pope has refused to sign at Rome; but being the prime minister of his
Holiness, and his favorite, it is with the Pope's mind that you will be in
communication. I hope the result will be an agreement as to the
modifications. It is a matter of phrases and words, which can be turned in
so many meanings that at last the good meaning is got hold of."

The First Consul had resolved to make from the very first an impression on
the mind of the pontifical envoy by the display of his power. Scarcely had
the cardinal stepped out of his carriage when he received a visit from
Abbe Bernier, whom he at once employed to ask an audience for him. The
same day, at the Tuileries, before the crowd of courtiers who were
thronging to one of the grand receptions, Cardinal Consalvi was presented
to the First Consul. "My astonishment," says he in his correspondence,
"was like that felt in the theatre by the sudden scene-shifting, when a
cottage, prison, or wood is unexpectedly changed to the dazzling spectacle
of the most magnificent court. You can easily imagine that a person
arriving at Paris on the night preceding, without being told beforehand,
without knowing anything of the habits, customs, and dispositions of those
before whom he appeared, and who was in a measure considered responsible
for the bad success of the negotiations so far as they had been carried,
must, at the sight of such grandeur, as imposing as it was unexpected,
have felt not only profound emotion, but even a too evident
embarrassment." As the cardinal approached the three consuls, alone in the
midst of a magnificent drawing-room filled with a brilliant throng,
Bonaparte left him no time to speak. "I know the object of your journey to
France," said he. "I wish the conferences to be immediately opened. I
leave you five days' time; and I tell you beforehand that if at the
expiration of the fifth day the negotiations are not finished, you must
return to Rome; whilst as for me, I have decided what to do in that case."

Consalvi came to Paris ardently wishing to bring to a successful
completion the difficult negotiations which had been entrusted to him. His
Italian cunning was not deceived as to the motive of the display of
magnificence, and the rough reception of himself which signalized his
first audience. He was conscientious and resolute without narrowness of
mind, and he understood the immense importance to religion and politics of
the restoration of agreement between France and the Court of Rome. He
appeared neither astonished nor disturbed with reference to the First
Consul. When they came to the discussion of the questions which had
brought him to Paris, the Pope's envoy showed himself easily influenced on
most of the points. Bonaparte himself summarized the whole of the
Concordat in a few words: "Fifty emigrant bishops, paid by England, manage
all the French clergy, and their influence must be destroyed. The
authority of the Pope is necessary for that. He deprives them of their
charge, or obliges them to resign. As it is said that the Catholic
religion is that of the majority of the French, the exercise of it should
be organized. The First Consul nominates the fifty bishops; the Pope
institutes them; they name the cures, and the State pays their salaries.
They take the oath: the priests who refuse to submit are removed, and
those who preach against the government are referred to their superiors.
After all, enlightened men will not rise against Catholicism; they are
indifferent."

A rather keen opposition, however, was raised among the courtiers and in
the army against the Concordat, which assisted in hampering the progress
of the negotiations. Most of the military men were still imbued with the
spirit of the Revolution, and suspicious of the influence of the priests.
The constitutional clergy, who had no serious objection to the Concordat,
the only means of securing them a regular ecclesiastical standing, feared
lest they should be sacrificed in favor of the priests who had refused to
take the oath. Several of them were married, and had thus increased the
difficulties of their position by new ties. So many personal interests and
different motives kept the First Consul's advisers in a state of hostility
to the claims of the Holy See. Even the preamble of the Concordat gave
room to long discussions. On the refusal to apply the title "State
religion" to the Catholic religion, Cardinal Consalvi agreed to the simple
statement of the fact that the Catholic Apostolic and Roman religion was
the religion of the great majority of the French people. On the other
hand, the Pope admitted the great advantage that religion should derive
from the re-establishment of Catholic worship in France, and from the
personal profession of it made by the consuls of the republic. He at the
same time agreed to ask the old titular bishops to resign. The resignation
of the constitutional bishops had been already secured. The First Consul
wrote to Pius VII.: "Most holy Father, Cardinal Consalvi has showed me
your Holiness' letter, and I recognize the evangelical sentiments which
distinguish it. The cardinal will inform your Holiness of my intention to
do all that may contribute to your happiness. It will depend only on you
to find again in the French Government the support which it has always
granted to your predecessors, when they have classed with their principal
duties the preaching of maxims which help to confirm peace, morality, and
obedience to the civil power.

"It only depends on me that the tears of Europe cease to flow, that the
revolutions and wars be followed by general peace and order.

"On all occasions, I beg your Holiness to reckon upon the assistance of
your devoted son."

Cardinal Consalvi had made several concessions; the French negotiators had
more than once extended as they chose the exact sense of his concessions;
but he refused absolutely to entrust the regulation of the public worship
to the civil authority. In view of the cardinal's conscientious obstinacy,
the First Consul at last agreed to important modifications of this point.
When the day for signing arrived, Joseph Bonaparte, who had always a share
in diplomatic negotiations, being one of the appointed signatories, the
cardinal went to his house with the Abbe Bernier, both bringing a copy of
the act. At the moment when the papal envoy was taking the pen, he cast
his eyes over the text of the convention, and saw that the article
referring to the exercise of worship had been restored to the form which
he had objected to. Reading further, and finding other changes and
additions, the cardinal protested against it. Joseph Bonaparte declared
that he knew nothing of it. "The First Consul wished it to be so," said
Bernier with some confusion, "declaring that anything may be changed so
long as it is not signed. Besides, the draft agreed upon did not please
him; and he insists upon the articles being so modified."

The time was short, the First Consul having announced his intention of
announcing publicly the signature of the Concordat at a great banquet the
same evening. The outbursts of his anger even reached the cardinal's ears.
He had torn the Concordat, and threatened to declare the rupture of the
negotiations if Consalvi did not consent to give way. "I underwent the
agonies of death," said the cardinal. But he was convinced of his duty,
and went to the Tuileries as unbending in his resolution as the First
Consul in his imperious will. Bonaparte came to him as he entered the
drawing-room, and called loudly, "Well, cardinal, you wish then to break!
I have no need of Rome! Let it be so! I have no need of the Pope! If Henry
VIII., who had not the twentieth part of my power, was able to change the
religion of his country, I am much more able to do so! By that change of
religion I shall change the religion through nearly the whole of Europe,
wherever the influence of my power extends. Rome will be sensible of the
losses she brings on herself. She will lament them, but there will be no
remedy. You wished to break.... Very well! let it be so, since you wished
it. When do you set out?" "After dinner, general," replied the cardinal
with calmness.

Consalvi did not set out. Next day, in spite of the reiterated attempt
made to influence him, in spite of the weakness of the majority of his
legation, the Pope's secretary of state held firm. The First Consul gave
way, or pretended it, in order afterwards to withdraw the concessions
granted, but sufficiently to satisfy the conscience of the cardinal, and
persuade him to put his signature to the Concordat. The ratification at
Rome quickly succeeded, and a legate was sent to Paris, chosen at the
First Consul's express desire. After Cardinal Caprara's arrival, the
publication of the Concordat was still delayed by the choosing of the new
bishops. Thirteen of the former prelates, who had taken refuge in England,
alone refused to resign at the command of the Holy See; and thirty-three
bishops, still abroad or already returned to France, obeyed generously and
without reluctance. The constitutional bishops had just dissolved their
council, which Bonaparte had authorized in order to influence the Court of
Rome; but he ordered its cessation as soon as the Concordat was signed.
His resolution to place several constitutional priests among the new
bishops annoyed and disturbed the Pope. The First Consul became angry,
making charges of systematic delay which prevented him from publishing the
Concordat, and introducing into their dioceses the prelates nominated
during Lent. The legate quietly claimed the submission which the
constitutional priests had promised. "There is haughtiness in asking it,"
exclaimed Bonaparte; "there would be cowardice in submitting." The conduct
of the constitutional prelates remained doubtful: ten, however, were
nominated. Cardinal Caprara was both less resolute and less clear-sighted
than Consalvi: at one time frightened, at another easily persuaded. In
spite of his resistance, "his cries and tears," he at last yielded to the
pressing demands of the First Consul. On the 18th April, 1802, Easter
Sunday, the Concordat was proclaimed in the streets of Paris. At eleven
o'clock an immense crowd thronged Notre Dame, curious to see the legate
officiating, and gaze again on the pompous ritual of the Catholic service;
but still more eager to look at the First Consul in the brilliancy of his
triumph and power, surrounded by his companions in arms, all compelled by
his will to assist at a ceremony at variance with the opinions of several
of them. The concessions of the Court of Rome and the obedience of the
generals could not conceal the vast gulf that separated Revolutionary
France from the religious tradition of the past. Bonaparte felt this. He
wished for the Concordat, understanding its lofty aim and practical
utility; he had conceded more in appearance than he intended to grant in
reality. The _Te Deum_ was chanted: the bishops were confirmed, and had
now set out for their dioceses. In every district, along with the
Concordat, and as if invested with the same sanction, the First Consul
published a series of "organic articles," regulating in detail the
relations of the civil power with the religious authority. Already, when
discussing the Concordat the representative of the Holy See had rejected
most of Bonaparte's pretensions on that subject; but he now reproduced
them, transformed, by the power of his will alone, into administrative
measures, voted like the Concordat by the Corps Legislatif, and having
equal force for the Catholic Church, the Protestant Church, and the Jewish
form of worship. The anger and sorrow of the Court of Rome had no effect
in modifying the resolution of the First Consul. Cardinal Caprara was
constantly passing from submission to despair. "He who is fated to treat
with the First Consul," he wrote to Cardinal Consalvi, "must bear always
in mind that he is treating with a man who is arbiter of the affairs of
the world--a man who has paralyzed, one might say, all the other powers of
Europe, who has conceived projects the execution of which seemed
impossible, and who has conducted them with a success which astonishes the
whole world. Nor should it be forgotten that I am appointed here in a
nation where the Catholic religion has not a ruling power, even in peace.
Here all the powerful personages are against her, and they strive as much
as possible against the First Consul. He is the only man who watches over
her. Unfortunately, her future depends on his intention, but at least that
intention is sure of completion. When the First Consul is against us,
things proceed with a frightful rapidity." The Pope felt obliged to
protest against the organic articles in an allocution to the Consistory,
and to address his claims to the First Consul, who took no notice of them.
In his communications with the religious authority in France, he proved
imperious and insolent. "If the morality of the gospel is insufficient to
direct a bishop," he wrote Portalis, "he must act by policy, and by fear
of the prosecution which government might institute against him as a
disturber of the public peace. I could not be otherwise than full of
sorrow at the conduct of certain bishops. Why have you not informed the
_prefets_?"

The ecclesiastical organization in France would have been incomplete, had
Bonaparte not extended his care to the Protestant churches. In a kindly
report addressed to him on the subject, it was stated that "the
government, in declaring that Catholicism was in a majority in France, had
no wish to authorize in its favor any political or civil pre-eminence.
Protestanism is a Christian communion, bringing together, in the same
faith and to the same rites, a very large number of Frenchmen. In recent
times the Protestants were in the foremost ranks under the standards of
liberty, and have never abandoned them. All that is secured to the various
Christian communions by the articles of agreement between his Holiness and
the Government of the Republic is equally guaranteed to the Protestants,
_with the exception of the pecuniary subvention_."

The original idea of Bonaparte had, in fact, been to leave to the
Protestants the full liberty of their internal government, as well as the
charge of their worship. The principle, admitted by the Constituent
Assembly, of compensating the Catholic clergy for the confiscation of
their property, was not applicable to the Protestant Church. On a
consideration of the administrative advantages of a church paid by the
state, Bonaparte decided that the law of the 18th Germinal, year X.,
should be drawn up, regulating the nomination of pastors and consistories
after the manner of the interior government of the Protestant Church. The
principle which, in this respect, equalized the Protestant and Catholic
modes of worship was hailed with satisfaction by the reformers. The Jews
established in France were admitted to enjoy the same privileges.

At the same time that an alliance between religion and the state was being
re-established in France, Chateaubriand, still a very young man, published
his "Genius of Christianity." The sense of the poetic beauty of
Christianity then reawakening in men's minds, the success of the book was
deservedly great. It marked in recent history the epoch of literary
admiration for the greatness and beauty of the gospel. We have since sadly
learnt that it was only a shallow and barren admiration.

Peace seemed again established in the world and the church. In spite of
several difficulties and suspicions, the definitive treaty with England
was at last to be signed at Amiens. But rest seemed already to weigh
heavily on the new master of France, and the increasing ambition of his
power could not deceive men of foresight as to the causes of disturbance
in Europe which were perpetually reappearing. Scarcely were the
preliminaries of peace signed in London, when the Batavian Republic--
recently composed, after the example of the French Republic, of a
Directory and two Legislative Chambers--found itself again undergoing a
revolution, the necessary reaction of what was being done in France. On a
new constitution being proposed to the Chambers they rejected it. The
Dutch Directory, with the assistance of General Augereau, effected at the
Hague, in September, 1800, the _coup d'etat_ which took place in Paris on
the 18th Brumaire; the representatives were dismissed, and the people were
assembled to pronounce upon the new constitution. Only 50,000 voters out
of 400,000 electors presented themselves in the Assemblies. A president
was chosen for three months. The absolute authority of the First Consul
was secured in the Batavian Republic.

In Switzerland, an agitation diligently kept up throughout all the
cantons, rendered a government there impossible. The French minister at
Berne, "a powerless conciliator of the divided parties," as Bonaparte
called him, received secret instructions from him. "Citizen Verninac must,
under all the circumstances, say publicly that the present government can
only be considered provisional, and give them to understand that, not only
does the French Government not rely upon it, but it is even dissatisfied
with its composition and procedure. It is a mockery of nations to believe
that France will acknowledge as the intention of the Helvetic people the
will of the sixteen persons who compose the Legislative Body." The French
troops had evacuated Switzerland. The First Consul was scheming to annex
the canton of Valais to the two departments of Mont Terrible and Leman,
which he had already taken from the Helvetian territory. After several
months passed, the seeds of discord began to bear fruit; and Aloys of
Reding, formerly Landamman, being overthrown, Dolder, the leader of the
radicals, was raised in his place. As a concession to the patriotic wishes
of the Swiss, the French troops were suddenly recalled from their
territory. When freed from that constant menace, interior dissensions
burst forth; the Landamman Dolder, replaced at Berne by Mulinen, took
refuge in Lausanne, where he founded a new government. The cantons were
already taking sides, when the First Consul launched a proclamation as the
natural arbiter of the destinies of Switzerland:--

"People of Helvetia, you have been disputing for three years without
understanding each other. If you are left longer to yourselves, you will
kill yourselves in three years without understanding each other any
better. Your history, moreover, proves that your civil wars have never
been finished unless by the efficacious intervention of France. I shall
therefore be mediator in your quarrels, but my mediation will be an active
one, such as becomes the great nation in whose name I speak. All the
powers will be dissolved. The Senate alone, assembled at Berne, will send
deputies to Paris; each canton can also send some; and all the former
magistrates can come to Paris, to make known the means of restoring union
and tranquillity and conciliating all parties. Inhabitants of Helvetia!
revive your hopes!" At the same time Bonaparte said to Mulinen, who had
already escaped to Paris, "I am now thoroughly persuaded of the necessity
of some definitive measure. If in a few days the conditions of my
proclamation are not fulfilled, 30,000 men will enter Switzerland under
General Ney's orders; and if they thus compel me to use force it is all
over with Switzerland. It is time to put an end to that; and I see no
middle course between a Swiss government strongly organized, and friendly
to France, or no Switzerland at all."

On the 15th October, 1802, General Ney received orders to enter
Switzerland, and publish "a short proclamation in simple terms, announcing
that the small cantons and the Senate had asked for the mediation of the
First Consul, who had granted it; but a handful of men, friends of
disorder, and indifferent to the evils of their country, having deceived
and led astray a portion of the people, the First Consul was obliged to
take measures to disperse these senseless persons, and punish them if they
persisted in their rebellion." At the same time, after an imperious
summons, the chiefs of the Swiss aristocracy, Mulinen, Affry, and
Watteville, joined the radical deputies in Paris. There could be no long
discussion, as the plan of the Helvetic Constitution was decided upon in
the mind of the First Consul. He had recognized the inconveniences arising
from the "unitary government:" he next abolished the old independent
institutions of the cantons, and systematically weakened the central
power, as the Diet, composed of twenty-five deputies, was to sit by
rotation in the six principal cantons; he at the same time nominated Affry
as President of the Helvetian Confederation, after carefully securing his
services. Henceforward the Swiss cantons, free in their internal
government, fell as a state under the rule of France. "I shall never
permit in Switzerland any other influence than my own, though it should
cost me 100,000 men," Bonaparte had said to the assembled deputies. "It is
acknowledged by Europe that Italy, Holland, and Switzerland are at the
disposition of France." At the same time (11th September, 1802), and as if
to justify this haughty declaration, the territory of Piedmont was divided
into six French departments, the Isle of Elba was united to France, and
the Duchy of Parma was definitively occupied by our troops.

For a long time the north of Italy was subjected to the laws of its
conqueror, and he arrogantly made it bear the whole burden. When the
Congress of Vienna had begun its sittings, Talleyrand absolutely forbade
Joseph Bonaparte to allow the usurpations of France in Europe to be
discussed. "You will consider it a fixed point that the French Government
can listen to nothing regarding the King of Sardinia, the Stadtholder, or
the internal affairs of Batavia, Germany, Helvetia, or the Italian
republics. All these subjects are absolutely unknown to our discussions
with England."

England admitted the truce of which she stood in need. She tacitly
accepted the reticences of the negotiators; and without any protest on her
part the First Consul set out for Lyons, where he had summoned the 500
members of the Italian Consulte. Overwhelmed with the gifts of her
conqueror, the Cisalpine Republic was now to receive from his hands a
definitive constitution. Lombardy as far as the Adige, the Legations, the
Duchy of Modena, had sent their deputies to France, prepared to vote by
acclamation for the constitution, which had been carefully prepared by
several leading Italians under the eyes of the First Consul. The Consulte
of Milan had accepted it. Bonaparte reserved to himself the direction of
the choice of functionaries, and the important nomination of the President
of the Republic. Lyons was in grand holiday, crowded by the Italians and
numerous bodies of troops. The old army of Italy, on arriving from Egypt,
had been ordered to Lyons; and the populace hailed with delight the
arrival of the First Consul, who was always popular personally. The
Consulte opened its sittings with distinction; and soon the Italian
deputies understood who was the president designed for them by the
solicitude of General Bonaparte. They accepted without repugnance his
proclamation:--"The Consulte has appointed a committee of thirty persons,"
wrote the First Consul to his colleagues; "they have reported that,
considering the internal and external circumstances of the Cisalpine, it
was indispensable to allow me to conduct the first magistracy, till such
time as the situation may permit, and I may judge it suitable, to name a
successor." To the request of the Consulte, in humble terms, the general
replied, "I find no one among you who has sufficient claims upon public
opinion--who would be sufficiently independent of local influences--who,
in short, has rendered to his country sufficiently great services, for me
to trust him with the first magistracy." The Count Melzi accepted the
vice-presidentship of the Republic. On the 28th January, after reviewing
the army of Egypt, the First Consul, president of the Italian Republic,
started again for Paris.

He was now waiting for news of the expedition which he had recently sent
to St. Domingo. The horrors which signalized the violent emancipation of
our negroes and their possession of the territory, was succeeded by a
state somewhat regular, largely due to the unexpected authority of a
black, recently a slave, who displayed faculties which are very unusual in
his race. In his difficult government, Toussaint Louverture had given
proofs of a generalship, foresight, courage, and gentleness which gave him
the right to address Bonaparte, the object of his passionate admiration,
in the following terms: "The first of the blacks to the first of the
whites." Toussaint Louverture loved France, and rendered homage to it by
driving from the island the Spanish and English troops. He claimed the
ratification of his Constitution, and sent his sons to France to be
properly educated.

The instructions given by the First Consul to his brother-in-law, General
Leclerc, are still secret. He had placed under his command 20,000 men,
excellent troops, borrowed from the old army of the Rhine, the generals
and officers of which were unwilling to resign during the peace. The
squadron, in charge of Admiral Villaret-Joyeuse, was a large one. The
English had been informed of the expedition, by a note signed by
Talleyrand but drawn up by Bonaparte himself. "Let England know," said he,
"that in undertaking to destroy the government of the negroes at St.
Domingo, I have been less guided by commercial and financial
considerations than by the necessity of smothering in all parts of the
world every kind of inquietude and disturbance--that one of the chief
benefits of peace for England at the present moment was that it was
concluded at a time when the French Government had not yet recognized the
organization of St. Domingo, and afterwards the power of the negroes. The
liberty of the blacks acknowledged at St. Domingo, and legitimized by the
French Government, would be for all time a fulcrum for the Republic in the
New World. In that case the sceptre of the New World must sooner or later
have fallen into the hands of the negroes; the shock resulting for England
is incalculable, whereas the shock of the empire of the negroes would,
with reference to France, reckon as part of the Revolution."

At the same time, and in contradiction to the intentions which he
announced to England, Bonaparte wrote to Toussaint Louverture: "We have
conceived esteem for you, and we are pleased to recognize and proclaim the
services which you have rendered to the French people. If their flag still
floats over St. Domingo, it is to you and the brave blacks it is due.
Called by your talents and the force of circumstances to the first
command, you have overthrown the civil war, curbed the persecution of
several fierce men, restored honor to religion and the worship to God, to
whom everything is due. The Constitution which you have made contains many
good things: the circumstances in which you are placed, surrounded on
every side by enemies, without the power of being assisted or provisioned
by the capital (mother country), have rendered legitimate the articles of
the Constitution which otherwise are not so. We have informed your
children and their tutor of our sentiments towards you. We shall send them
back to you. Assist the general by your advice, your influence, and your
talents. What can you desire? The liberty of the negroes? You know that in
every country in which we have been, we have given it to the peoples who
had it not. Hence consideration, honors, fortune! After the services which
you have rendered, which you can render in this matter, with the personal
feelings which we entertain for you, you ought not to be doubtful as to
the position before you. Consider, general, that if you are the first of
your color who has arrived at so great power, and is distinguished by his
valor and military talents, you are also before God and before us the most
responsible for their conduct. Count without reserve upon our esteem, and
let your behavior be that which becomes one of the principal citizens of
the greatest nation of the world."

One of the incurable evils of a long state of slavery is the distrust
begot in those who have undergone it, though it is also the defence and
instinctive protection of weakness. Along with his admiration for the
First Consul and his traditional attachment to France, Toussaint
Louverture remained uneasy and suspicious as a slave. Already, under the
orders of General Richepanse, the expedition was being prepared which was
to re-establish slavery in Guadeloupe, in spite of the decrees of the
Constituent Assembly and the formal declaration of the First Consul in a
statement of the State of the Republic (November 30th, 1801). When the
French squadron was signalled at St. Domingo, and the negro dictator
ascertained the crushing force brought to impose upon him the will of the
mother country, he made preparations for defence, entrusted his
lieutenant, Christophe, with the guard of the shore and the town of Le
Cap, ordering him to oppose the landing by threatening the white
population with fire and sword should they offer to assist the French
troops. Toussaint, counting upon the effect of threats, had not estimated
the savage horror of slavery which animated his companions, nor the
ferocity which could be displayed by men of his race when let loose upon
their former masters. On entering the roads the French squadron began to
fire; the negroes set the town on fire, put chains on some of the
principal white men, and withdrew to the mountains or hills. Toussaint
having preceded them, the army of negroes was again formed round him. The
coast, however, being already taken by General Leclerc, the white
population joined them; and a large number of the negroes, becoming
alarmed, accepted the conditions offered by the general. Then, after
offering some defence, several of Toussaint's lieutenants, one after
another, surrendered. The most ferocious of them, Dessalines, had just
been driven from St. Marc, where he committed great atrocities. Toussaint
was pursued to his retreat, and after his entrenchments were forced he
accepted a capitulation, and withdrew to his plantation at Ennery. The
climate of St. Domingo caused frightful ravages to the French army, and
the consequent weakness of his troops greatly increased General Leclerc's
alarm. He had, moreover received peremptory orders, the severity of which
he frequently modified. "Follow exactly my instructions," General
Bonaparte wrote to him on the 16th of March, 1802, "and as soon as ever
you have got rid of Toussaint, Christophe, Dessalines, and the leading
brigands, and the masses of the blacks are disarmed, send away all the
blacks and men of color who shall have played any part in the civil
troubles." A certain agitation continued to reign among the blacks, and
Leclerc seized upon this pretext to summon Toussaint to a conference. The
vanity of the former dictator was flattered, and triumphed over his
mistrust. "These white gentlemen who know everything still have need of
the old negro," said he, and he set out for the French camp (June 10,
1802). Immediately arrested and cast into a frigate, he was taken to the
town of Le Cap; his family had been captured as well as himself, and he
found them on board the vessel that carried him to France. He was alone
when he was imprisoned in the Temple, and afterwards transferred to the
fortress of Joux, in the icy casemates under the canopy of the mountains.
The only question asked him was where he had hidden his treasures. The
dictator of the blacks gave no answer; he had fallen into a deep lethargy.
On the 27th April, 1803, he at last expired, the victim of cold,
imprisonment, and solitude. A few months later (November, 1803) the
mournful remains of our army evacuated St. Domingo, for ever lost to the
power of France. General Leclerc was dead of fever, as well as the greater
part of his officers, like Richepanse at Guadeloupe. The climate of his
country had avenged Toussaint Louverture; the instruments of Bonaparte had
perished, the enterprise had failed. The sister of General Bonaparte
returned to France, ready for higher destinies; the wife and children of
the dictator of St. Domingo pined away slowly in exile.

This check was insignificant in the midst of so much success for his
armies, and so many easy triumphs over the subdued nations; but the
jealous susceptibility of the First Consul kept increasing. He had
punished Toussaint Louverture for the resistance he had encountered in St.
Domingo; he was irritated against the remnants of isolated opposition
which he encountered at times among a few members of the Tribunate. The
treaties of peace, so brilliantly concluded after the signature of the
preliminaries of London, had been ratified without difficulty by the Corps
Legislatif. A single article of the treaty with Russia raised strong
objections; it was obscure, and assured the Czar of the repression of
Polish plots in France. The republican pride was irritated at the word
_subjects_ which, was found in the clause. "Our armies have fought for ten
years because we were citizens," cried Chenier, "and we have become
subjects! Thus has been accomplished the desire of the double coalition!"
The treaty was, nevertheless, ratified by an immense majority. But the
anger of the master had been roused; "The tribunes are _dogs_ that I
encounter everywhere," he often exclaimed. The Tribunate and the Corps
Legislatif soon incurred his displeasure afresh--the one by discussing,
the other by rejecting, a few preliminary articles of the new civil code.
The First Consul was present at the discussions of the Council of State,
often taking part in them with singular spirit and penetration, sometimes
warped by personal or political prejudices. He had adopted as his own the
work of the learned lawyers who had drawn up and compiled for the honor
and utility of France the wisest and the simplest doctrines of civil and
commercial law. "We can still risk two battles," said Bonaparte, after the
rejection of the first head of the code. "If we gain them we will continue
the march we have commenced. If we lose them we will enter into our winter
quarters, and will advise as to the course to be taken."

The second head of the code was voted; the third, relative to the
deprivation of civil rights, was excessive in its rigor; it was rejected.
At the same time, and as if to give proof of its independence, the Corps
Legislatif, which had just chosen as its president Dupuis, author of a
philosophical work, then famous, upon the "Origin of all Religions," sent
up as candidates for the Senate the Abbe Gregoire and Daunou. The former
had been dismissed from his charge as constitutional bishop at the time of
the Concordat, the second was honored of all men, moderate in a very firm
opposition. The Abbe Gregoire was elected. The First Consul had presented
Generals Jourdan, Lamartilliere, and Berruyer, accompanying their
candidature with a message. He broke out violently during a sitting of the
Senate. "I declare to you," he said, "that if you appoint Daunou senator,
I shall take it as a personal injury, and you know that I never suffer
that!" General Lamartilliere was appointed, but the slight notion of
independence in the constituent bodies had troubled and displeased
Bonaparte; he recoiled before the risks that awaited the Concordat and the
great project of public instruction presented for the acceptance of the
Corps Legislatif. On the 8th of January, 1802, a message was brought in
during the sitting. "Legislators," said the First Consul, "the government
has resolved to withdraw the projects of law of the civil code. It is with
pain that it finds itself obliged to defer to another period laws in which
the interests of the nation are so much involved, but it is convinced that
the time has not yet come when these great discussions can be carried on
with that calm and unity of intention which they require."

This was not enough to assure the repose of General Bonaparte and the
docile acceptance of his wishes; Consul Cambaceres, clever at veiling
absolute power with an appearance of legality, proposed to confide to the
Senate the task of eliminating from the Tribunate and the Corps Legislatif
the fifth who ought regularly to be designated by lot. The legislative
labors were suspended; the First Consul had set out for Lyons, in order to
guide the destinies of the Italian Republic. He wrote thence to his
colleagues: "I think that I shall be in Paris at the end of the decade,
and that I shall myself be able to make the Senate understand the
situation in which we find ourselves. I do not think it will be possible
to continue to march forward when the constituted authorities are composed
of enemies; the system has none greater than Daunou; and since, in fine,
all these affairs of the Corps Legislatif and the Tribunate have resulted
in scandal, the least thing that the Senate can do is to remove the twenty
and the sixty bad members, and replace them by well-disposed persons. The
will of the nation is that the government may not be hindered from doing
well, and that the head of Medusa may no longer be displayed in our
Tribunes and in our Assemblies. The conduct of Sieyes in this circumstance
proves perfectly that, after having concurred in the destruction of all
the constitutions since 1791, he still wishes to try his hand against this
one. It is very extraordinary that he does not see the folly of it. He
ought to go and burn a wax taper at Notre Dame for having been delivered
so happily and in a manner so unhoped for. But the older I grow the more I
perceive that every one has to fulfil his destiny."

When the First Consul returned to Paris, the opposition, more brilliant
than effective, of a few eloquent members, had ceased in the Tribunate;
the Corps Legislatif had undergone the same purification. Faithful
servants had been carefully chosen by the Senate--some capable of ill-
temper and anger, like Lucien Bonaparte and Carnot; others distinguished
by their administrative merit, like Daru--all fit to vote the great
projects which the First Consul meditated. He did not, however, condescend
to submit to them the general amnesty in favor of all the emigrants whose
names had not yet been erased from the fatal list. Perhaps he still
dreaded some remains of revolutionary passion. This act of justice and
clemency was the object of a Senatus Consultum. The First Consul kept in
his own hands the unsold confiscated property of emigrants--a powerful
means of action, which he often exercised in order to attach to himself
men and families of consideration by direct or personal restitution.

He created at the same time a new instrument of government the fruit of a
powerful mind and profound acquaintance with human nature. Formerly the
honorary orders successively founded by kings of France had been reserved
for a small number of privileged persons; in this limited circle they had
been the object of great ambition and of long intrigues. By the
institution of the Legion of Honor, Bonaparte resolved to extend to the
entire nation, in the camp and in civil life, that rivalry of hopes and
that ardent thirst for honors which formerly animated the courtiers. He
had proved the importance which the military attached to arms of honor,
and he was impatient of the objections which the Council of State brought
before him on this subject. "People call this kind of thing a bauble,"
said he. "Well! it is with baubles that men are managed. I would not say
it to a Tribune, but I do not believe that Frenchmen love liberty and
equality; they have not been changed by ten years of Revolution; like the
Gauls, they must have distinctions. It is one means more of managing men."
The experience of the rulers who have succeeded him has justified the far-
seeing and cynical conception of Bonaparte. It has proved once more what
abuses can be brought about, and what weaknesses can be created, by an
institution originally intended to appeal to noble sentiments. The passion
for equality was much stronger than the First Consul thought; the
institution of the Legion of Honor encountered great opposition in the
purified Tribunate and Corps Legislatif, and was only voted by a small
majority.

A great law on public instruction prepared the way for the foundation of
the University, from that time one of the favorite ideas of the First
Consul. Primary instruction remained neglected, as it had been practically
by the Convention. The communes were entrusted with the direction and
construction of schools; no salary was assured to the instructor beyond
the school fees. The central schools were suppressed; their method of
mixed instruction had succeeded badly. The project of the First Consul
instituted thirty-two Lycees, intended for instruction in the classical
languages and in the sciences. He had little taste for the free exercise
of reflection and human thought; instruction in history and philosophy
found no place in his programme. "We have ceased to make of history a
particular study," said M. Roederer, "because history properly so called
only needs to be read to be understood." The great revival of historic
studies in France was soon to protest eloquently against a theory which
separated the present from the past, and which left in consequence a most
grievous blank in education. Military exercises were everywhere carefully
organized. Six thousand four hundred scholarships, created by the State,
were to draw the young into the new establishments, or into the schools
already founded to which the State extended its grants and its patronage.
Without being officially abolished, the freedom of secondary instruction
was thus subjected to a destructive rivalry, and the action of the
government penetrated into the bosom of all families. "What more sweet,"
said M. Roederer, "than to see one's children in a manner adopted by the
State, at the moment when it becomes a question of providing for their
establishment?" "This is only a commencement," said the First Consul to
Fourcroy, the principal author of the project, and its clever defender
before the Corps Legislatif; "by and by we shall do better."

The Treaty of Amiens had already been signed several months (25th March,
1802), but it had not yet been presented for the ratification of the Corps
Legislatif; this was the supreme satisfaction reserved for it, and the
brilliant consummation of its labors. It was at the same time the price
paid in advance for a manifestation long prepared for, but which, however,
still remained obscure even among those most trusted by the all-powerful
master of France. The destinies of the nation rested in his hands, but the
power had been confided to him for ten years only; it was necessary to
insure the prolongation of this dictatorship, which all judged useful at
the present moment, and of which few people had foreseen the danger.
Bonaparte persisted in hiding his thought; he waited for the spontaneous
homage of the constituent bodies in the name of the grateful nation.
Cambaceres was acquainted with this desire, and he exerted himself to
prepare the votes in the Senate. A certain mistrust reigned in some minds.
The Tribunate, alone permitted to speak, at length took the initiative.
Its President, Chabot de l'Allier, the friend of Cambaceres made this
proposal:--"The Senate is invited to give the consuls a testimony of the
national gratitude." This wish, transmitted to the Senate, was at the same
time carried to the Tuileries; Simeon was entrusted with presenting it to
the First Consul. "I desire no other glory than that of having entirely
completed the task which was imposed on me," replied Bonaparte; "I am
ambitious of no other recompense than the affection of my fellow-citizens;
life is only dear to me for the services I can render to my country; death
itself will have for me no bitterness, if I can only see the happiness of
the Republic as well assured as its glory."

So many protestations of disinterestedness deceived nobody; the thirst for
power betrayed itself even in the most modest words. Through ignorance, or
uneasiness as to the future, the Senate made a mistake as to the measure
of an ambition that knew no limit. It voted for General Bonaparte a
prolongation of his powers during ten years; Lanjuinais alone protested
against the dictatorship, as he had formerly protested against demagogy.
The officials, badly informed, ran with eagerness to the Tuileries; they
were received with evident ill-temper. The first impulse of Bonaparte was
to refuse the proposal of the Senate; prudent counsels opened to him
another way.

It was from Malmaison, the pretty country-house dear to Madame Bonaparte,
that the First Consul replied to the message of the Senate. "Senators,"
said he, "the honorable proof of esteem embodied in your deliberation of
the 18th will be always graven upon my heart. In the three years that have
just passed away, fortune has smiled upon the Republic; but fortune is
inconstant, and how many men whom she has loaded with her favors have
lived more than a few years!

"The interest of my glory and that of my happiness would seem to assign as
the term of my public life the moment when the peace of the world is
proclaimed.

"But you judge that I ought to make a new sacrifice for the people; I will
do it if the wish of the people commands what your suffrage authorizes."
In all times, and under all forms of arbitrary government, the appeal to
the people has offered to power an easy resource; Cambaceres had cleverly
suggested it to the First Consul. In explaining to the Council of State
the reasons which rendered the vote of the Senate unacceptable, he
formulated immediately the proposal which ought to be put before the
nation: "Napoleon Bonaparte, shall he be consul for life?" To this first
question Roederer proposed to add a second, immediately rejected by the
explicit wish of the First Consul himself: "Shall he have the right of
appointing his successor?" For three weeks, in all the cities and in all
the villages, the registries of votes remained open. The Tribunate and the
Corps Legislatif presented themselves in a body at the Tuileries, in order
to vote into the hands of the First Consul. The Senate had the honor of
casting up the votes. It remained mute and powerless in consequence of its
awkward proposal. "Come to the help of people who have made a mistake in
trying to divine your purposes too deeply," said Cambaceres to the First
Consul. 3,577,259 "Yeas" had agreed to the Consulate for life. Rather more
than 800 "Noes" alone represented the opposition. La Fayette refused his
assent; he wrote upon the registry of votes, "I should not know how to
vote for such a magistracy, inasmuch as political liberty will not be
guaranteed."

The feeble and insufficient guarantees of political liberty were about to
undergo fresh restrictions. In receiving from the Senate the return of the
votes, the First Consul said, "The life of a citizen is for his country.
The French people wish mine to be entirely consecrated to it; I obey its
will. In giving me a new pledge--a permanent pledge of its confidence, it
imposes upon me the duty of basing the legal system on far-seeing
institutions." A Senatus Consultum, reforming the Constitution of the year
VIII., substituted for the lists of notables, the formation of Cantonal
Colleges, Colleges of Arrondissements, and Colleges of Departments, the
members of which, few in number, and appointed for life by the cantonal
assemblies, were to nominate candidates for selection by the executive
authority. The Tribunate was limited to fifty members; the Council of
State saw its importance diminished by the formation of a Privy Council.
The number of senators was fixed at eighty, but the First Consul was left
at liberty to add forty members at his pleasure. This assurance of the
docility of the Assembly was not sufficient. The Senate was invested with
the right of interpreting the constitution, of suspending it when
necessary, or of dissolving the Tribunate and the Corps Legislatif; but it
might not adopt any measure without the initiative of the government. The
First Consul reserved for himself the right of pardon and the duty of
naming his successor. This last clause was forced on him by reasons of
State policy, but he deferred it for a long time. His mind could only be
satisfied with the principle of hereditary succession, and he had no
children. Madame Bonaparte feared a divorce, the principle of which had
been maintained by the First Consul in the Council of State with
remarkable earnestness. The choice of a successor remained an open
question, which encouraged many hopes. The brothers of the First Consul
were loaded with honors; the family of the master took rank by themselves
from the moment when the name they bore in common appeared with a
freshness which was in part to eclipse its glory. In imitation of the
Italian Consulate, the Senate proclaimed Napoleon Bonaparte Consul for
life.

A few prudent friends of liberty in France began to feel uneasy at this
unheard-of aggrandizement of power without a curb. To the fear which
France in anarchy had caused in Europe already succeeded the disquietude
inspired by an absolute master, little careful of rights or engagements,
led by the arbitrary instincts of his own mind, susceptible by nature or
by policy, and always disposed to use his advantages imperiously. Peace
was already beginning to be irksome to him; he cherished hopes of new
conquests; his temper became every day more exacting, and the feebleness
of the English minister furnished him with occasions of quarrel. A
stranger to the liberal spirit of the English constitution, a systematic
enemy to the freedom of the press, Bonaparte required from Addington and
Lord Hawkesbury that they should expel from England the revolutionary
libellers, whose daily insults in the journals irritated him, and the
emigrant Chouans, whose criminal enterprises he dreaded. To the demands of
the French minister at London was added the official violence of the
_Moniteur_, edited and inspired by Barere. "What result," said the journal
of the First Consul, "what result can the English Government expect by
fomenting the troubles of the Church, by harboring, and re-vomiting on our
territory, the scoundrels of the Cotes-du-Nord and Morbihan, covered with
the blood of the most important and richest proprietors of those
unfortunate departments? Does it not know that the French Government is
now more firmly established than the English Government? Does it imagine
that for the French Government reciprocity will be difficult? What might
be the effect of an exchange of such insults--of this protection and this
encouragement accorded to assassins?"

The irritation was real, and its manifestations sincere; but they cloaked
more serious incentives to anger, and pretensions fatal to the repose of
Europe. For a long time the First Consul had repelled with scorn any
intervention of England in the affairs of the new States he had created,
and which the English Government had constantly refused to recognize. The
complaints of Lord Hawkesbury on the subject of the French mediation in
Switzerland provoked an explosion of anger and threats. "Whatever may be
said or not said," wrote Talleyrand to Otto, "the resolution of the First
Consul is irrevocable. He will not have Switzerland converted into a new
Jersey. You will never speak of war, but you will not suffer any one to
speak to you of it. With what war could they threaten us? With a naval
war? But our commerce has only just started afresh, and the prey that we
should afford the English would be scarcely worth while. Our West Indies
are supplied with acclimatized soldiers! St. Domingo alone contains 25,000
of them. They might blockade our ports, it is true; but at the very moment
of the declaration of war England would find herself blockaded in turn.
The territory of Hanover, of Holland, of Portugal, of Italy, down to
Tarento, would be occupied by our troops. The countries we are accused of
domineering over too openly--Liguria, Lombardy, Switzerland, Holland--
instead of being left in this uncertain situation, from which we sustain a
thousand embarrassments, would be converted into French provinces, from
which we should draw immense resources; and we should be compelled to
realize that empire of the Gauls which is ceaselessly held up as a terror
to Europe. And what would happen if the First Consul, quitting Paris for
Lille or St. Omer, collecting all the flat-bottomed vessels of Flanders
and Holland, and preparing the means of transport for 100,000 men, should
plunge England into the agonies of an invasion--always possible, almost
certain? Would England stir up a continental war? But where would she find
her allies? In any case, if the war on the continent were to be renewed,
it would be England who would compel us to conquer Europe. The First
Consul is only thirty-three years old; he has as yet only destroyed States
of the second rank. Who knows but that he might have time enough yet (if
forced to attempt it) to change the face of Europe, and resuscitate the
Empire of the West?"

The violence of these words went beyond the thought of the First Consul;
he had not yet firmly made up his mind for the recommencement of
hostilities. France submissive, Europe silent and resigned, accepting
without a murmur the encroachments of his ambition--such were for him the
conditions of peace; England could not accept them. With Piedmont and the
island of Elba annexed to France, Holland and Switzerland subdued, and the
Duchy of Parma occupied, England had eluded the agreements relative to the
island of Malta. Profiting by the difficulties which opposed themselves to
the reconstitution of the order of things guaranteed by the great powers,
she had detained in her hands this pledge of empire in the Mediterranean.
It was the object of continual complaints from the First Consul, and the
pretext for his outburst of anger. "The whole Treaty of Amiens, and
nothing but the Treaty of Amiens," Otto kept constantly repeating to Lord
Hawkesbury. The minister of foreign affairs responded by a declaration
equally peremptory: "The condition of the continent at the time of the
Treaty of Amiens, and nothing but that condition." The mutual
understandings and reticences which had enabled a truce to be arranged,
little by little disappeared. The truth began to come to light. A mission
of General Sebastiani to Egypt resulted in awakening general uneasiness.

The report of the First Consul's envoy was textually published in the
_Moniteur_; it enumerated the forces at the disposal of England and Turkey
in the East, and in conclusion expressed its opinion that "6000 Frenchmen
would now be sufficient to reconquer Egypt."

This was, perhaps, saying more than Napoleon Bonaparte had resolved upon;
and the ambassador's desire to please had responded to the remote and
vague desires of the master. England was much disturbed at it, and yet
more so at the haughty declarations of the First Consul in a statement of
the condition of the republic. "In England," said he, "two parties contend
for power. One has concluded peace and appears resolved on its
maintenance; the other has sworn implacable hatred to France. Whilst this
strife of parties lasts, there are measures which prudence dictates to the
government. Five hundred thousand men ought to be, and shall be, ready to
defend and to avenge her. Whatever be the success of her intrigues,
England will not be able to draw other nations into new leagues, and the
government declares with just pride that England alone could not now
contend with France." The spirited indignation of the English people
prevailed over the moderation and weakness of the government. George III.,
in a message to his Parliament, said, "In view of the military
preparations which are being made in the ports of France and Holland, the
king has believed it to be his duty to adopt new measures of precaution
for the security of his States. These preparations are, it is true,
officially intended for colonial expeditions; however, as there exists
important differences of sentiment between his Majesty and the French
Government, his Majesty has felt it necessary to address his Parliament,
counting on its concurrence in order to assure all the measures which the
honor and interests of the English people require." The public voice
demanded the return to power of Pitt. "It is an astonishing and sorrowful
fact," said his old adversary, Sir Philip Francis, "that in a moment like
this all the eminent men of England are excluded from its government and
its councils. For calm weather an ordinary amount of ability in the pilot
might suffice; the storm which is now brewing calls for men of greater
experience. If the vessel founders, we shall all perish with her."

The ambassador from England had just arrived at Paris. Lord Whitworth was
a man of resolute and simple character, without either taste or ability
for the complicated manoeuvres of diplomacy; he was well received by the
First Consul, and conversation soon began. "He reproaches us above all
with not having evacuated Egypt and Malta," wrote the ambassador to Lord
Hawkesbury. "'Nothing will make me accept that,' he said to me. 'Of the
two, I would sooner see you master of the Faubourg St. Antoine than of
Malta. My irritation against England is constantly increasing. Every wind
that blows from England bears to me the evidence of its hatred and ill-
will. If I wanted to take back Egypt by force, I could have had it a month
ago, by sending 25,000 men to Aboukir; but I should lose there more than I
should gain. Sooner or later Egypt must belong to France, either by the
fall of the Ottoman Empire, or by some arrangement concluded with it. What
advantage should I derive from making war? I can only attack you by means
of a descent upon your coasts. I have resolved upon it, and shall be
myself the leader. I know well that there are a hundred chances to one
against me; but I shall attempt it if I am forced to it; and I assure you
that such is the feeling of the troops, that army after army will be ready
to rush forward to the danger. If France and England understand each
other, the one, with its army of 480,000 men which is now being got in
readings, and the other with the fleet which has rendered it mistress of
the seas, and which I should not be able to equal in less than ten years--
they might govern the world; by their hostility they will ruin it. Nothing
has been able to overcome the enmity of the English Government. Now we
have arrived at this point: Do you want peace or war? It is upon Malta
that the issue depends.'" Lord Whitworth attempted in vain a few
protestations. "I suppose you want to speak about Piedmont and
Switzerland? These are bagatelles! That ought to have been foreseen during
the negotiations; you have no right to complain at this time of day."

The warlike ardour of the Parliament and the English nation was the answer
to the hostile declaration of the First Consul. He had counted upon a more
confirmed desire for peace, and upon the disquietude his threats would
produce. He attempted once more the effect produced by one of those
outbursts of violence to which he was subject, and of which he was
accustomed to make use.

The message of George III. to Parliament was known to the First Consul
when, on Sunday, March 13, 1803, the ambassador of England presented
himself at the Tuileries. Bonaparte was still in the apartment of his
wife; when Lord Whitworth was announced, he entered immediately into the
salon. The crowd was large; the entire corps diplomatique was present. The
First Consul, advancing towards Lord Whitworth, said, "You have news from
London;" then, without leaving the ambassador time to answer: "So you wish
for war!" "No," replied Lord Whitworth; "we know too well the advantages
of peace." "We have already made war for ten years; you wish to make it
for another fifteen years; you force it upon me." He strode with long
steps before the amazed circle of diplomats. "The English wish for war,"
said he, drawing himself up before the ambassadors of Russia and Spain--
Markoff and Azara; "but if they are the first to draw the sword, I will
not be the last to put it back in the scabbard. They will not evacuate
Malta. Since there is no respect for treaties, it is necessary to cover
them over with a black pall!" The First Consul returned to Lord Whitworth,
who remained motionless in his place. "How is it they have dared to say
that France is arming? I have not a single vessel of the line in our
ports! You want to fight; I will fight also. France may be killed, my
lord; but intimidated, never!" "We desire neither the one nor the other,"
replied the ambassador; "we only aspire to live on a good understanding
with her." "Then treaties must be respected," cried Bonaparte. "Woe to
those who don't respect treaties."

He went away his eyes sparkling, his countenance full of wrath--when he
stopped for a moment; the sentiment of decorum had again taken possession
of his mind. "I hope," said he to Lord Whitworth, "that the Duchess of
Dorset [Footnote: Wife of Lord Whitworth.] is well, and that after having
passed a bad season in Paris, she will be able to pass a good one there."
Then suddenly, and as if his former anger again seized him: "That depends
upon England. If things so fall out that we have to make war, the
responsibility, in the eyes of God and man, will rest entirely upon those
who deny their own signature, and refuse to execute treaties."

It was one of Bonaparte's habits to calm himself suddenly after an
outburst of violence. A few days were passed by Talleyrand and Lord
Whitworth in sincere efforts to plan pacific expedients; the ambassador
had received from the English Cabinet its ultimatum: "1. The cession of
the isle of Lampedusa. 2. The occupation of Malta for ten years. 3. The
evacuation of the Batavian Republic and Switzerland. 4. An indemnity for
the King of Sardinia. On these conditions England would recognize the
Kingdom of Etruria and the Cisalpine Republic."

The warmth of public opinion in England had obliged the minister to take
up a fixed attitude; the consequences could not be doubtful. In vain Lord
Whitworth retarded to the utmost limits of his power the departure for
which he had received orders. The advances of Talleyrand and the
concessions of the First Consul did not seriously touch the essence of the
questions in dispute. The decision of Napoleon remained the same: "I will
not let them have two Gibraltars in the Mediterranean, one at the entrance
and another in the middle." The ambassador quitted Paris on the 12th of
May, journeying by short stages, as if still to avert the inevitable
rupture between the two nations; at the same time General Andreossy,
accredited at the court of George III., quitted London. The two
ambassadors separated on the 17th of May at Dover, sorrowful and grave, as
men who had striven to avert indescribable sorrows and struggles from
their country and the world.

It was the harsh and barbarous custom of the English navy to fall upon the
merchant vessels of an enemy's country immediately peace was broken. Two
French ships of commerce were thus captured on the day following the
departure of General Andreossy for Paris. The First Consul replied to this
act of hostility by causing to be arrested, and soon afterwards interned
at various places in his territory, all the English sojourning or
travelling in France. Some had recently received from Talleyrand the most
formal assurances of their safety. "Many English addressed themselves to
me," said Napoleon in his "Memorial de Sainte-Helene;" "I constantly
referred them to their government. On it alone their lot depended."
England did not claim its citizens, it resolutely persisted in leaving
upon its author the full weight of this odious act, disapproved by his
most faithful adherents. No Frenchmen were annoyed on English soil.

Europe was agitated and disquieted, still entrenched in its neutrality,
more or less malevolent, and terrified at the consequences it foresaw from
the renewal of the strife between France and England. "If General
Bonaparte does not accomplish the miracle that he is preparing at this
moment," said the Emperor of Germany, Francis II., "if he does not pass
the straits, he will throw himself upon us, and will fight England in
Germany." "You inspire too much fear in all the world, for it to dream now
of fearing England," cried Philippe de Cobentzel, ambassador of Austria at
Paris. It was upon this universal fear that the First Consul had counted.
Already his troops had invaded Hanover, without England thinking it
possible to defend the patrimonial domains of its sovereign. The
Hanoverian army did not attempt to resist: Marshal de Walmoden concluded
with General Mortier at Suhlingen a convention which permitted the former
to retire beyond the Elbe with arms and baggage, on condition of not
serving against France in the present war. These resolutions not having
been ratified by George III., the Hanoverian army was disbanded after
laying down its arms; 30,000 Frenchmen continued to occupy Hanover. The
uneasiness of Germany continued to increase. The Emperor of Russia offered
himself as mediator; the King of Prussia offered to arrange for the
neutrality of the north; but the First Consul remained deaf to these
advances. He sent Gouvion de Saint Cyr into the gulf of Tarento, formerly
evacuated after the peace of Amiens. The forces intended for this
expedition were to live at the expense of the kingdom of Naples. "I will
no more suffer the English in Italy than in Spain or Portugal," he had
said to Queen Caroline. "At the first act of complicity with England, war
will give me redress for your enmity."

The attitude of Spain was doubtful, and its language little satisfactory.
By the threat of invasion by Augereau, whose forces were already collected
at Bayonne, the First Consul acted on the disgraceful terrors of the
Prince de la Paix; he only exacted money from his powerless ally. As he
now found it impossible to occupy Louisiana, Bonaparte conceived the idea
of ceding it to the United States for a sum of 80,000,000 francs, which
the Americans hastened to pay. Holland was to furnish troops and vessels,
Etruria and Switzerland soldiers.

It was upon a maritime enterprise that the efforts and thoughts of the
First Consul were at this moment entirely concentrated. The attempt at an
invasion of England which the Directory had formerly wished to impose on
him, and which he had rejected with scorn on the eve of the campaign in
Egypt, had become the object of his most serious hopes. To throw 150,000
men into England on a calm day by means of a flotilla of flat-bottomed
boats, which should be rowed across whilst the great vessels of the
English navy would be immovable through the absence of wind--such was the
primitive conception of the enterprise. Bonaparte prepared for it with
that persevering activity, and that marvellous pre-arrangement of details
with a view to the entire plan, which he knew how constantly to carry out
in administration as in war. To the original project of the Directory he
had added more masterly combinations, which still remained secret. A
squadron was preparing at Brest, under the orders of Admiral Ganteaume;
the Dutch vessels, commanded by Admiral Verhuell, were collected at Texel;
Admiral Latouche-Treville, clever and daring, was to direct the squadron
of Toulon destined for a decisive manoeuvre. Admiral Brueix was entrusted
with the conduct of the flotilla of the Channel; everywhere boats had been
requisitioned, gun-boats and pinnaces were in course of construction; the
departments, the cities, the corporate bodies, offered gifts of vessels or
maritime provisions; the forests of the departments of the north fell
under the axe. Camps had been formed at Boulogne, at Etaples, at St. Omer;
fortifications rose along the coast; the First Consul undertook a journey
through the Flemish and Belgian departments, accompanied by Madame
Bonaparte and all the splendor of a royal household. The presence of the
Legate in the _cortege_ was to impress with respect and confidence the
minds of the devout populations of the north. The first point at which
Napoleon Bonaparte stayed his progress was at Boulogne; he pressed forward
the works, commenced, and ordered new ones. On his return from the
triumphal march to Brussels and back, he resumed himself the direction of
his great enterprise. Established in the little chateau of Pont de Briques
at the gate of Boulogne, he hastened over to St. Cloud, and returned, with
a rapidity which knew no fatigue. Without cessation, on the shore, in the
workshops, in the camps, he animated the sailors, the workmen, and the
soldiers with the indomitable activity of his soul. The minister of
marine, Decres, clever, penetrating, with a nature gloomy and mournful,
suggested all the difficulties of the expedition, and yielded to the
imperial will that dominated all France. Admiral Brueix, already ill, and
soon afterwards dying, was installed in a little house which overlooked
the sea, witnessing the frequent experiments tried on the new vessels,
sometimes even the little encounter that took place with the English
ships. The First Consul braved all inclemencies of weather; he was eager
"to play his great game." "I received your letter of the 18th Brumaire,"
wrote he to Cambaceres. "The sea continues to be very bad, and the rain to
fall in torrents. Yesterday I was on horseback or in a boat all day. That
is the same thing as telling you I was continually wet. At this season
nothing can be accomplished without braving the water. Fortunately for my
purpose, it suits me perfectly, and I was never better in health."

Already the night expeditions, intended to exercise the sailors and inure
the soldiers, had commenced; the ardor of the chief spread to the army. On
the 7th of January, 1804, the minister of marine wrote from Boulogne to
the First Consul: "In the flotilla they are beginning to believe firmly
that the departure will be more immediate than is generally supposed, and
they have promised to prepare seriously for it. They shake off all
thoughts of danger, and each man sees only Caesar and his fortunes. The
ideas of all the subalterns do not pass the limits of the roadstead and
its currents. They argue about the wind, and the anchorage, and the line
of bearing. As for the crossing, that is your affair. You know more about
it than they do, and your eyes are worth more than their telescopes. They
have implicit faith in everything that you do. The admiral himself is in
just the same condition. He has never presented you any plan, because in
fact he has none. Besides, you have not yet asked him for it; it will be
the moment of execution which will decide him. Very possibly he will be
obliged to sacrifice a hundred vessels to draw down the enemy upon them,
whilst the rest, setting out at the moment of the defeat of the others,
will go across without hindrance."

The First Consul, ceasingly watching the sea which protected his enemies,
wrote to Cambaceres on November 16th: "I have passed these three days in
the midst of the camp and the port. I have seen from the heights of
Ambleteuse the coasts of England, as one sees the Calvaire from the
Tuileries. You can distinguish the houses, and the movements going on. It
is a ditch, which shall be crossed as soon as we shall have the audacity
to attempt it."

So many preparations, pushed forward with such ardor, disquieted England.
The most illustrious of her naval officers--Nelson, Lord Cornwallis, and
Lord Keith--were ordered to blockade the French ports, and hinder the
return of distant squadrons. Everywhere corps of volunteers were formed,
and actively exercised on the coasts. Men of considerable note in the
political or legal world--Pitt and Addington, as well as the great lords
and the great judges--clothed themselves in uniform, and commanded
regiments. Pitt proposed to fortify London. Insurrectionary movements were
being fomented in Ireland; the French squadron at Brest was destined to
aid them.

In the midst of this warlike and patriotic agitation, it was only natural
that the excitement should gain a party, naturally restless and credulous.
The French emigrants could not but feel a desire for action, in the hope
of taking an active part in the general struggle waged against the enemy
who kept them far from their country by the very fact of his existence and
his power. The First Consul had offered an amnesty to all the emigrants,
restored their property to some, and attracted a certain number of them
round his own person; he had recalled the priests, and re-established the
Catholic religion; but he had repelled the advances of the House of
Bourbon. His hostility to the restoration of the monarchy had always been
flagrant; the throne might be re-erected, but it should be for his own
profit. He alone was the obstacle to the hopes cherished by the exiled
princes and their friends, in presence of the re-establishment of order
and the public prosperity. Delivered from his yoke, that pressed heavily
upon her, France would salute with enthusiasm the return of her legitimate
sovereign.

It was in England even, and amongst the circle that surrounded the Count
d'Artois, that expression was given to these hopes and ignorant illusions
as to the true state of men's minds in France. The Princes of the House of
Conde, recently enrolled with their little army in the service of England,
held themselves ready to fight, without conspiring. Louis XVIII. lived in
Germany, withdrawn from the centre of warlike preparations; he was cold,
sensible, and prudent; he thought little of plots, and had a healthier
judgment than his brother as to the chances which might restore his
fortune. The actual resources, the noisy agents of the emigration, were
collected in England: there were found the chiefs of the Chouans, with
Georges Cadoudal at their head; there dwelt the generals who had had the
misfortune to abandon their country or betray their honor--Willot,
Dumouriez, Pichegru; there were hatched chimerical projects, impressed
from the first with the fatal errors and the terrible ignorance which doom
to inevitable sterility the hopes and the efforts of exiles.

By his counsels, or his orders, Georges Cadoudal had taken part in the
plot which had been discovered in 1801. After the failure of the infernal
machine of St. Rejant he had felt regret, and some repugnance, for such
proceedings. He proposed to go to Paris, with twenty or twenty-five
resolute men, to attack the guard of the First Consul while he passed
along the street, and strike him in the midst of his defenders. In order
to profit by this bold stroke intrigues were to be carried on beforehand
with discontented generals, who might be able to dispose the forces
necessary for the sudden overthrow of the consular government. Bonaparte
dead, the Count d'Artois and his son the Duc de Berry, secretly brought
into France, would rally their friends round them, and proclaim the
restoration of the House of Bourbon.

Two principal actors were indispensable to the execution of the project;
Georges at Paris, unknown to the prying police of the First Consul; and
General Moreau, favorable to the fall of Bonaparte, if not to his
assassination. A nearly complete rupture had succeeded to the professed
regard which for a long time covered the secret jealousy of the First
Consul with respect to his glorious companion-in-arms. At the summit of
his power and glory, Napoleon Bonaparte was never exempt from a
recollection of rivalry with regard to the former chiefs of the republican
army, his old rivals, and who had not bowed before the prestige of his
recognized superiority. He liked neither Kleber, nor Massena, nor Gouvion
St. Cyr. As regards Moreau, he experienced a concealed uneasiness; it was
the only military name that had been mentioned as that of a possible
successor to himself. Wounded susceptibilities, and the quarrels of women,
had aggravated a situation naturally delicate and strained. Moreau was
spirited as well as modest; he felt himself injured; he dwelt in the
country, living in grand style, sought after by the discontented, and
speaking of Bonaparte without much reserve. The emigrant conspirators
believed that circumstances were favorable for engaging him in their
plans. General Pichegru had formerly been his friend. Moreau had long
concealed the proofs of the former treason; perhaps he regretted having
given them up at the moment of his comrade's just disgrace: he was known
to be favorable to the return of Pichegru to France. It was in the name of
Pichegru, and for his interests, that Moreau was to be approached. The
first agent sent to Moreau was soon arrested; he has said in his
"Memoires," "Moreau would have nothing to do with conspiracy, and said,
'he must cease to waste men and things.'" Other emissaries had no better
success. An active intriguer, General Lajolais, an old friend of Pichegru,
meanwhile left Paris for London; he repeated the bitter words of Moreau
respecting the First Consul--words which created illusions and hopes. On
the 21st August, 1803, Georges landed at the cliff of Biville, crossing
the rocks by the footpaths of smugglers. The police had for some time been
on the traces of the conspiracy: they were, perhaps, actively concerned in
it. A few Chouans, obscure companions of Cadoudal, were arrested and put
in prison, without their trial being proceeded with; their chief succeeded
in reaching Paris safely, where he hid himself. Two successive arrivals
completed the band of conspirators; on January 16th, 1804, General
Pichegru, the Marquis de la Riviere, Jules and Armand de Polignac, landed
in France. On the same day, and by a coincidence which suggests the idea
of a certain knowledge of the situation, the First Consul said in his
statement as to the condition of the republic,--

"The British Government will attempt to cast, and has perhaps already cast
upon our shores, a few of those monsters which it has nourished during the
peace, in order to injure the land which gave them birth. But they will no
longer find the impious bands who were the instruments of their first
crimes; terror has dissolved them, or justice has purged our country of
their presence. They will no longer find that credulity they abused, or
that hatred which once sharpened their daggers. Surrounded everywhere by
the public power, everywhere within the grasp of the tribunals, these
horrible wretches will be able henceforth neither to make rebels, nor to
resume with impunity their profession as brigands and assassins."

The conspirators succeeded in assuring themselves that, contrary to the
hopes of some English diplomatists, an insurrection was no longer possible
in Vendee or Brittany. Already a certain amount of discouragement was
influencing their minds as to the success of their perilous enterprise. At
their first interview, by night, on the Boulevard of La Madeleine, Moreau
showed himself cold towards Pichegru. Georges, who had accompanied the
latter, was dissatisfied and gloomy. "This looks bad," said he, at once.
The two generals conferred. Moreau displayed no repugnance towards the
overthrow of the First Consul; he would form no project of conspiracy, but
he believed himself sure of becoming the master of power if Bonaparte
happened to disappear; he was, and he remained, a republican. He
reproached Pichegru with being mixed up with men unworthy of him. The
general had more than once bitterly felt this. "You are with us (_avec
nous_)," the Chouans used to say to him. "No gentlemen," cried Pichegru,
one day; "I am in your company (_chez vous_)."

"Poor man!" said the conqueror of Holland, on quitting the conqueror of
Hohenlinden, "he also has his ambition, and wishes to have a turn at
governing France: he would not be its master for twenty-four hours."
Georges Cadoudal laughed scornfully; "Usurper for usurper! I love better
the one who is ruling now than this Moreau, who has neither heart nor
head!" The conspirators felt their danger. Their preliminary interviews
had led to no result; the murmurs of discontent had not developed into
serious promises, still less into effective actions. La Riviere lost hope
every day; the First Consul every day became better informed as to what
was going on.

He had recently suppressed the ministry of police; Fouche continued,
without authority, the profession which he had always practised with
enthusiasm; he informed Napoleon as to the result of his researches. The
latter had ardently cherished a hope of pursuing, and striking down at one
blow, enemies of diverse origin, dangerous on different accounts. Amongst
the Chouans arrested in the month of August, two had remained obstinately
silent, and had been shot; a third was less courageous. "I have secret
information which makes me believe that they only came here to assassinate
me," wrote Bonaparte to Cambaceres. Querelle revealed all he knew of the
plot; he named the place of disembarkation; General Savory was sent there
in disguise, ordered to wait for that arrival of a prince, as had been
promised to the conspirators. Already his doom was determined on in the
mind of the First Consul.

Fresh arrests had taken place in Paris, for a servant of Georges had given
information. One of his principal officers, Bouvet de Lozier, vainly
attempted to kill himself; rescued from death, he asked to see the chief
judge. Regnier sent in his place Real, the counsellor of state, more
penetrating and more clever than himself. It is supposed that the latter
was no stranger to the drawing up of the deposition of Bouvet, who
implicated General Moreau in the gravest manner. "Here is a man who comes
back from the gates of the tomb, still surrounded by the shadows of death,
who demands vengeance upon those who by their perfidy have thrown him and
his party into the abyss where they now find themselves. Sent to sustain
the cause of the Bourbons, he finds himself compelled either to fight for
Moreau, or to renounce an enterprise which was the sole object of his
mission. Monsieur was to pass into France, to put himself at the head of
the royalist party. Moreau promised to unite himself to the cause of the
Bourbons; the royalists arrived in France, and Moreau retracts. He
proposes to them to work for him, and to get him named Dictator. Hence the
hesitation, the dissension, and the almost total loss of the royalist
party. I know not what weight you will attach to the assertions of a man
snatched an hour ago from the death to which he had devoted himself, and
who sees before him the fate which an offended government has in reserve
for him. But I cannot withhold the cry of despair, or refrain from
attacking the man who has reduced me to this."

Real hastened to the Tuileries. The First Consul was less astonished than
himself; he was acquainted with the interviews of Moreau and Pichegru. He
was well aware that the opinions of Moreau were quite opposed to any
thought of monarchical restoration. The general returned to Paris, after a
visit to Grosbois, on the morning of the 15th of February; he was arrested
on the bridge of Charenton, and taken to the Temple. Lajolais was arrested
at the same time. The trial was directed to take place before the civil
tribunal of the Seine. Cambaceres had proposed a military commission.
"No," said the First Consul; "it would be said that I desire to
disembarrass myself of Moreau, and to get him judicially assassinated by
own creatures." The jury was chosen in the department of the Seine; a
report upon the causes of the arrest of Moreau was sent to the Senate, the
Corps Legislatif, and the Tribunate.

The commotion in Paris was great, and the public instinct was favorable to
General Moreau. The presumed accomplices of his crime had not yet fallen
into the hands of the government. People refused to believe him guilty, a
traitor to the opinions of a lifetime, and mixed up in a royalist
conspiracy. The attitude of the general was firm and calm. For a moment,
the First Consul conceived the idea of seeing him. "I pardon Moreau," said
he; "let him own everything to me, and I will forget the errors of a
foolish jealousy." General Lajolais had recounted the details of the
interviews of Moreau with Pichegru; the accused persisted in denying
everything. "Ah, well," replied Napoleon, "since he will not open with me,
it will be necessary for him to yield to justice." Anger broke forth, in
spite of the efforts of the First Consul to preserve the appearance of a
sorrowful justice. The brother of Moreau, was a member of the Tribunate;
he had loudly pleaded in favor of the accused. "I declare," cried he, "to
the assembly, to the entire nation, that my brother is innocent of the
atrocious crimes that are imputed to him. Let him be given the means of
justifying himself, and he will do so. I demand that he may be judged by
his natural judges," The president of the Tribunate dared to style the
accusation against Moreau a _denunciation_; the First Consul warmly
criticised this expression. "The greatness of the services rendered by
Moreau is not a sufficient motive for screening him from the rigor of the
laws," cried he. "There is no government in existence where a man by
reason of his past services may screen himself from the law, which ought
to have the same grasp on him as on the meanest individual. What! Moreau
is already guilty in the eyes of the highest powers of the State, and you
will not even consider him as accused!" "Paris and France have only one
sentiment, only one opinion," wrote he to Comte Melzi, vice-president of
the Italian Republic.

The pursuit had become rigorous. It was known that Pichegru and Georges
were hidden in Paris; the gates of the city were closed, egress by the
river watched by armed vessels. The Corps Legislatif voted a measure
condemning to death whoever should conceal the conspirators, to the number
of sixty. Whoever should be cognizant of them without denouncing them, was
liable to six years in irons. One night General Pichegru went to ask
asylum of Barbe-Marbois, formerly intendant of St. Domingo, transported,
like himself, to Sinnamari, and now become a minister of the First Consul.
Barbe-Marbois did not hesitate to receive him. When he avowed it
afterwards to Napoleon, the latter warmly congratulated him upon it.

A few days passed by; General Pichegru, shamefully betrayed by one of his
former officers, was arrested on the 28th of February, bravely resisting
the agents of the police. Georges, seized in the street on the 9th of
March, blew out the brains of the first gendarme who seized the bridle of
his horse. La Riviere and Polignac were also in prison. Moreau had given
up his system of absolute denials; at the prayer of his wife and his
friends he wrote to the First Consul, simply recounting his relations with
Pichegru, without asking pardon, and without denying the past
transactions, seeking to disengage his cause from the Royalist conspiracy
--less haughty, however, than he had till then appeared. Bonaparte had the
letter affixed to the process of the trial. He appeared moved at the
situation of Pichegru. "A fine end!" said he to Real: "A fine end for the
conqueror of Holland. It will not do for the men of the Revolution to
devour each other. I have long had a dream about Cayenne; it is the finest
country in the world for founding a colony. Pichegru has been proscribed,
as he knows; ask him how many men and how much money he wants to create a
great establishment; I will give them to him, and he will retrieve his
glory by rendering a service to France." The general did not reject the
proposition, but he persisted in his silence. "I will speak before the
tribunal," said he. Before the supreme day when the trial was about to
take place before human justice, Pichegru had appeared before a more
august tribunal; on the morning of the 6th of April he was found dead in
his bed, strangled, it was said, by his own hands.

The royalist conspirators at first proudly avowed the aim of their
enterprise. "What did you come to do in Paris?" asked the prefect of the
police of Georges Cadoudal. "I came to attack the First Consul." "What
were your means?" "I had as yet little enough; I counted on collecting
them." "Of what nature were your means of attack?" "By means of living
force." "Where did you count on finding this force?" "In all France." "And
what was your project?" "To put a Bourbon in the place of the First
Consul." "Had you many people with you?" "No, because I was not to attack
the First Consul until there was a French prince in Paris, and he has not
yet arrived."

This was the prince for whom General Savary had been, waiting in vain for
nearly a month on the cliff of Biville. The anger of the First Consul
continued to increase. "The Bourbons think they can get me killed like a
dog," said he. "My blood is worth more than theirs; I shall make no more
of their case than of Moreau or Pichegru; the first Bourbon prince who
falls into my hands, I will have shot remorselessly." The Comte d'Artois
and the Duc de Berry were announced, and did not arrive. Napoleon
stretched forth his arm to seize an innocent prince, whose misfortune it
was to be within his reach. On the 10th of March, 1804, he wrote to
General Berthier: "You will do well, citizen minister, to give orders to
General Ordener, whom I place at your disposal, to repair at night, by
post, to Strasburg. He will travel under another name than his own, and
see the general of division. The aim of his mission is to throw himself
upon Ettenheim, invest the city, and carry away from it the Duc d'Enghien,
Dumouriez, an English colonel, and any other individual who may be in
their suite. The general of division, the marshal of the barracks of
gendarmes, who has been to reconnoitre Ettenheim, as well as the
commissary of police, will give him all necessary information."

The young Duc d'Enghien, son of the Duc de Bourbon, and grandson of the
Prince of Conde, resided in fact at Ettenheim, in the grand duchy of
Baden. Drawn at times to Strasburg, by his taste for the theatre, he was
held fast in this little city by a passionate attachment for the Princess
Charlotte of Rohan, who lived there. He was young and brave, and was
waiting for the call from England to take part in the war. He was not
implicated in the plot hatched round the Comte d'Artois, and was
absolutely ignorant of it. A few emigrants--very few in numbers, and
without political importance--resided near him; one of them was the
Marquis de Thumery, whose name, mispronounced with a German accent, gave
rise to the error which supposed the presence of Dumouriez at Ettenheim.
This supposition might for a moment deceive the First Consul as to the
complicity of the Duc d'Enghien; it was cleared up when, after having
violated the territory of the Grand Duke of Baden (for which Talleyrand
was careful to apologize), he learnt the arrival of the unfortunate prince
at Strasburg; all the papers seized at Ettenheim were in his hands.

The first movement of the Duc d'Enghien had been to defend himself. "Are
you compromised?" asked a German officer who was at his house. "No!"
replied the young man with astonishment. Resistance was useless; he
surrendered. There was one single ground of accusation against him: like
all the princes of his house, and thousands of emigrants, he had borne
arms against France. Nearly all the nobility had been permitted again to
tread the soil of their country: he alone was about to expiate the fault
of all. The minister of France at Baden, Massias, felt compelled to bear
witness that "the conduct of the Prince had always been innocent and
guarded." A few days later the _Moniteur_ had to announce the assembling
of emigrants, with a staff of officers and bureaux of officials round a
prince of the House of Bourbon. Massias had beforehand given the lie to
this rumor. The Duc d'Enghien was brought to Paris; detained for a few
hours at the barriers, he was then conducted to the chateau of Vincennes.
On the same morning the First Consul had sent this order to his brother-
in-law, General Murat, whom he had just named governor of Paris: "General,
in accordance with the orders of the First Consul, the Duc d'Enghien is to
be conducted to the castle of Vincennes, where arrangements are made to
receive him. He will probably arrive at his destination to-night. I pray
you to make such arrangements as shall provide for the safety of this
prisoner at Vincennes, as well as on the road from Meaux by which he
comes. The First Consul has ordered that the name of this prisoner, and
everything relative to him, shall be kept a profound secret. In
consequence, the officer entrusted with his guard ought not to be made
acquainted with the name and rank of his prisoner; he travels under the
name of Plessis."

Bonaparte was at Malmaison, gloomy and agitated; since the day when the
order had been given to arrest the Duc d'Enghien, the intimate companions
of the First Consul had no doubt as to his fatal resolution. Cambaceres
had warmly insisted upon the deplorable consequences of such an act;
Madame Bonaparte had cast herself at his feet, but he raised her up ill-
temperedly. "You have grown very saving over the blood of the Bourbons,"
said he bitterly to Cambaceres. "I shall not allow myself to be killed
without being able to defend myself." The fatal moment approached. Madame
de Remusat, playing at chess with Napoleon, heard him repeating in a low
voice the noble words of Augustus pardoning Cinna, and she believed the
prince saved: he had just entered the castle of Vincennes, and already the
judges were awaiting him.

Murat had loudly declared his repugnance for the functions imposed on him
by his brother-in-law. "He wants to stain my uniform with blood," said he
with anger. He was not called to Vincennes. General Savary, devoted
without reserve to the First Consul, had set out with a corps of
gendarmes. Already the Duc d'Enghien, weighed down by fatigue, was asleep;
he was roused up at midnight. A captain, as judge advocate, was entrusted
with a first examination. He being asked his names, Christian names, age,
and place of birth, in reply said "he was named Louis-Antoine-Henri de
Bourbon, Duc d'Enghien, born at Chantilly, the 2nd of August, 1772." Being
asked at what time he quitted France, in reply he said, "I cannot say
precisely, but I think it was on the 16th July, 1789, that I set out with
the Prince de Conde my grandfather, my father the Comte d'Artois, and the
children of the Comte d'Artois." Being asked where he had resided since
leaving France, in reply he said, "On leaving France I passed with my
parents, whom I always accompanied, by Mons and Brussels; thence we
returned to Turin, to the palace of the king, where we remained nearly
sixteen months. Thence, always with my parents, I went to Worms and the
neighborhood, upon the banks of the Rhine. Lastly the Conde corps was
formed, and I was with it throughout the war. I had before that made the
campaign of 1792, in Brabant, with the Bourbon corps, in the army of Duke
Albert. We terminated the last campaign in the environs of Graetz, and I
asked permission of the Cardinal de Rohan to go into his country, to
Ettenheim, in Brisgau, the former bishopric of Strasburg. For two years
and a half I remained in this country, with the permission of the Elector
of Baden." Being asked if he had ever passed into England, and if that
power had always accorded him a grant of money, in reply he said he had
never been there; that England always accorded him a grant of money, and
that he had only that to live upon. Being asked if he kept up
correspondence with the French princes in London, and if he had seen them
for some time, he said that naturally he kept up a correspondence with his
grandfather, and that equally naturally he corresponded with his father,
whom he had not seen, so far as he could recollect, since 1794 or 1795.
Being asked if he knew General Pichegru, and if he had any relations with
him, he said, "I believe I have never seen him; I have had no relations
with him. I know that he has desired to see me. I am thankful not to have
known him, after the vile means of which it is said he has desired to make
use, if it is true." Being asked if he knew the ex-general Dumouriez, and
if he had had relations with him, he said, "On the contrary, I have never
seen him." Being asked if, since the peace, he had not kept up
correspondence with the interior of the republic, he said, "I have written
to a few friends who are still attached to me, who have been my companions
in war, about their affairs and my own; these correspondences are not, I
think, those to which it is intended to refer."

Upon the minute of the examination, beneath his signature, the Duc
d'Enghien wrote, "I earnestly entreat to have a private audience with the
First Consul. My name, my rank, my way of thinking, and the horror of my
situation, make me hope that he will not refuse me my request." The
request was foreseen, and the answer, according to instructions given,
that under no pretext would the First Consul be willing to receive the Duc
d'Enghien.  At two o'clock in the morning the military commission was
assembled, presided over by General Hullin, formerly life-guard of Louis
XVI., and one of the insurgent leaders before the Bastille. The same
questions were addressed to the prince, more briefly--less explicitly, as
if the time was short, and the enemy threatening. Sometimes the president
interfered with an appearance of rude benevolence. General Savary did not
speak. When the examination was finished he rose up. "Now this is my
concern," said he. The judges deliberated a moment. The sentence, signed
in blank, was already in their hands. The Governor of Vincennes, Harel,
appeared at the gate carrying a light. He had formerly delivered to
Bonaparte the conspirators of the plot of Arena and Topino-Lebrun; to-day
he preceded in the sombre corridors the prisoner, escorted by a piquet of
troops. The prince did not pale; he reiterated his request for an
audience, which was harshly denied. Already the grave was dug in the ditch
of the chateau; a detachment of gendarmes waited for the condemned.

The Duke stopped. "Comrades," said he loudly, "there is without doubt
among you a man of honor who will charge himself with receiving and
transmitting my last thoughts." And as a young officer stepped out of the
ranks, "Has any one here a pair of scissors?" asked the Prince. He cut a
lock of his hair, and joining it in the form of a ring, he pronounced in
low tones the name of the person for whom he intended this souvenir; then
pushing back with his hands the bandage with which they wished to cover
his eyes, he made one step towards the soldiers: they fired, and he was
dead. General Savary went to tell his master that he was obeyed.

Shakespeare has depicted remorse with that terrible truthfulness which
carries home to our minds the horror of crime. Lady Macbeth passes before
us haunted by a vision, and ceaselessly washing her blood-stained hands.
During all his life, even in his exile, Napoleon vainly sought to wash off
the innocent and illustrious blood which he caused to flow in the fosse of
Vincennes on the 20th of March, 1804. The men whom he had employed as the
instruments of his heinous crime struggled like himself under this
terrible responsibility. In vain has Bonaparte reproached Talleyrand with
having perfidiously urged him on in the fatal path; in vain has Real
affirmed that an order reached his house during the night assuring to the
prisoner a new examination, unfortunately forestalled by his death. All
explanations, and all accusations have failed before the severe justice of
history and the infallible instinct of the public conscience. The odious
burden of a cowardly assassination was constantly weighing upon him who
had ordered it.  The blood of his victim created round him an abyss that
all the efforts of supreme power could never succeed in filling up.

When the news spread in Paris, on March 21st, it was received with stupor;
people wept, even at Malmaison. Caulaincourt, previously entrusted with
the explanatory letter for the Elector of Baden, complained bitterly of
the stain upon his honor. Fourcroy was sent to dissolve the Corps
Legislatif; Fontanes, who presided over the assembly, replied to the
counsellor of state without making allusion to the catastrophe, the
intelligence of which the latter had mixed up with matters of business.
His speech was modified in the _Moniteur_. Fontanes had the courage to
protest against the approbation which had been attributed to him. The same
journal contained the judgment of the military commission which had
condemned the Duc d'Enghien; like the speech of Fontanes, the wording had
been altered.

Alone amongst the public functionaries of every rank or origin, young
Chateaubriand, minister of France to the republic of Valais, felt himself
constrained to give in his resignation. Louis XVIII. sent back the collar
of the Golden Fleece to the King of Spain, who remained the ally of
Napoleon. The courts of Russia and Sweden put on mourning for the Duc
d'Enghien.

Thus was preparing in Europe, under the impulse of public opinion, the
third coalition, which was to unite all the sovereigns against France.
Alone till then, England had hatched against us the plots in which its
diplomatic agents were found compromised; but the denunciations of the
First Consul against Spencer and Drake vanish, and lose all importance in
presence of the crime committed at Vincennes. Prussia, long and
obstinately faithful to its policy of neutrality, and recently disposed to
draw nearer to us, began to incline towards Russia, with whom she soon
concluded an alliance. Austria evinced neither regret nor anger, but the
action of the German powers was silently influencing her. The First Consul
broke out against the Emperor Alexander, violently hurling a gross insult
at him. "When England meditated the assassination of Paul I., if it had
been known that the authors of the plot could be found at a place on the
frontiers, would not you have been inclined to have them seized?" General
Hedouville, ambassador of France at St. Petersburg, received the order to
set out in forty-eight hours. "Know for your direction," said he to the
charge d'affaires, "that the First Consul does not wish for war, but he
does not fear it with anybody."

In presence of this general perturbation of Europe, of the loud
indignation of some and the dull uneasiness of others--in order to respond
to the denunciations of the royalists, who understood the fatal
consequences of the blow that Bonaparte had dealt to his own glory, the
First Consul resolved to take at length the last step which separated him
from supreme greatness. A year before he had been appointed Consul for
life of the French Republic: the murderer of a prince of the house of
Bourbon, he raised again on his own account the overturned throne. Still
without children, he founded in his person an hereditary monarchy, assured
of finding in the nation the assent of admiration as of lassitude and
fear. Eight days had scarcely passed since the execution of the Duc
d'Enghien; the brothers of the First Consul were absent and discontented.
Cambaceres was opposed to the projects which he had divined in the mind of
Napoleon Bonaparte. In his place, Fouche, always eager to serve the man
whose favor he courted, cleverly prepared the minds of the Senate. No
equivocation was possible as to the desires of Napoleon. On March 27th the
first assembly of the state addressed to the supreme chief this humble
request: "You found a new era," said the Senate, "but you ought to make it
eternal. Splendor is nothing without duration. You are harassed by
circumstances, by conspirators, by the ambitious. You are also in another
sense harassed by the uneasiness which agitates all Frenchmen. You can
conquer the times, master circumstances, put a curb on conspirators,
disarm the ambitious, tranquillize all France, by giving it institutions
which shall cement your edifice, and prolong for the children what you
have done for the fathers. In town and country if you could interrogate
all Frenchmen one after another, no one would speak otherwise than we.
Great Man, complete your work by rendering it as immortal as your glory;
you have drawn us forth from the chaos of the past, you make us blessed in
the benefits of the present--make us sure of the future."

The clever manoeuvre of Fouche gave Napoleon the opportunity of declaring
himself; he wished to be invited to speak. His answer was not, and could
not, be ready; he asked of the Senate time to reflect. Meanwhile he set
himself to sound the courts of Europe. On the morrow of the insult he had
offered to all the sovereigns by the murder of the Duc d'Enghien, their
good-will was doubtful: the earnest adhesion of Prussia and Austria
astonished and satisfied him; he was at war with England, embroiled with
Russia; the rest of Europe seemed to be at his feet. Clever at managing
those of whom he had need, he wished to assure himself of the disposition
of the army still agitated by the arrest of Moreau. He wrote to General
Soult, who commanded the camp of Saint Omer: "Citizen General Soult, I
have received your letter. The Councils-General of the departments, the
Electoral Colleges, and all the great bodies of the State, ask that an end
should be at last put to the hopes of the Bourbons, by placing the
republic in safety from the shocks of elections and the uncertainty of the
life of a single man. But up to this moment I have decided upon nothing;
meanwhile I desire that you should instruct me in great detail as to the
opinion of the army on a measure of this nature. You perceive that I would
not be drawn into it except with the sole object of the nation's interest,
for the French people have made me so great and so powerful that I can
desire nothing more."

The malcontents in the army were silent; the ambitious, the courtiers, the
faithful and devoted servants of the great general, brought him the
protestation of their devotion; the addresses from the departments
succeeded each other in great numbers. On April 25 the First Consul sent a
message to the Senate: "Your address of the 6th Germinal has not ceased to
be present to my thoughts," said he. "You have judged the hereditary
succession of the chief magistrate to be necessary to shelter the French
people from the plots of our enemies, and the agitation born of rival
ambitions. Many of our institutions have at the same time appeared to you
to require to be improved in order to assure without reversal the triumph
of equality and public liberty, and to offer to the government and the
nation the double guarantee of which they have need. In proportion as I
have fixed my attention on these great objects, I have perceived more and
more that, under circumstances as novel as they are important, the
counsels of your wisdom and of your experience are necessary to me in
order to fix all my ideas. I invite you then to let me become completely
acquainted with all your thoughts. I desire that on the 14th July this
year we shall be able to say to the French people: Fifteen years ago, by a
spontaneous movement, you rushed to arms; you required liberty, equality,
and glory. To-day, this best of all national wealth, assured to you
without fear of reversal, is protected from all tempests. Institutions
conceived and commenced in the midst of the storms of internal and
external war, developed with constancy, have been brought to their climax
amidst the noise of the efforts and plots of our mortal enemies, by the
adoption of all that the experience of ages and of peoples has
demonstrated as fit to guarantee the laws which the nation has judged
necessary for its dignity, its liberty, and its honor."

On the day following the 14th of July, 1789, the Duc de Rochefoucauld
said, with prophetic sadness, "It is very difficult to enter into true
liberty by such a gate." General Bonaparte was destined to confirm this
solemn truth, so often and so sorrowfully misunderstood by our country.
France, exhausted and disgusted by the enthusiasms of demagogy and the
bloody tyranny of the Terror, had been tossed by shock after shock into
the arms of the conqueror who promised her order and energy in government;
she had forgotten for a time those great and salutary conquests of the
liberty which she unreservedly yielded up at his feet.

By a tardy return towards the convictions of the past, Carnot alone raised
his voice in the Tribunate to recall the Republic, abandoned by all, in
the name of that liberty which he wrongly attributed to it. "Was liberty
then always to be shown to man without his being able to enjoy it? Was it
ceaselessly offered for his desires, like a fruit to which he could not
stretch forth his hand without being in danger of death? No! I cannot
consent to regard this gift, so universally preferable to all others,
without which the others are nothing, as a simple illusion. My heart tells
me that liberty is possible, that its rule is easy and more stable than
any arbitrary or oligarchic government. You say that Bonaparte has
effected the salvation of his country, that he has restored public
liberty; is it then a recompense to offer up to him this same liberty as a
sacrifice?"

On the 3rd of May, on the proposal of Curee and the report of Jard-
Panvillier, the Tribunate sent to the Senate a proposal to the effect:
"Firstly, that Napoleon Bonaparte, at present Consul for life, be
appointed Emperor, and in this capacity entrusted with the government of
the French Republic. Secondly, that the title of Emperor and the imperial
power be hereditary in his family, from male to male, in order of
primogeniture. Thirdly and lastly, that in deciding as regards the
organization of the constituted authorities upon the modifications
required by the establishment of hereditary power--equality, liberty, and
the rights of the people, be preserved in their integrity."

The Senate was resolved not to lose the fruits of its initiative; the
project of the senatus-consultum was ready, and was immediately carried to
the First Consul, accompanied by the views of all the great bodies of the
State. When it returned to the Senate, amended and modified by the will of
the supreme chief, the authority which the senators had sought to arrogate
to themselves had been taken away. "The senators, if they were allowed to
do it, would go on to absorb the Corps Legislatif, and, who knows? perhaps
even to restore the Bourbons," said the First Consul to the Council of
State. "They wish at once to legislate, to judge, and to govern. Such a
union of powers would be monstrous; I shall not suffer it!" The Tribunate
ceased to exist as an assembly, and could no longer discuss except in
sections; the Corps Legislatif were permitted to debate in secret
committees only. A High Court was to be constituted, to judge the crimes
of personages too important for the jurisdictions of ordinary tribunals.
In order to satisfy the vanity of Joseph and Louis Bonaparte, alone
entitled to the succession of the empire, two officers were borrowed from
the constitution devised by Sieyes, and from mediaeval history; the one
became Grand Elector, and the other Constable. Sagacious and docile
counsellor of the First Consul in their apparent equality, Cambaceres was
appointed arch-chancellor of the empire, and Lebrun became arch-treasurer.
Four honorary marshals [Footnote: Kellermann, Perignon, Lefevre,
Serurier.] and fourteen active marshals [Footnote: Murat, Berthier,
Massena, Lannes, Soult, Brune, Ney, Augereau, Moncey, Mortier, Davout,
Jourdan, Bernadotte, Bessieres.] were grouped around the restored throne.
Alone and beforehand the Senate decided upon the destinies of France,
arrogantly called upon to ratify decisions over which it exercised no
authority; on May 19th, 1804, at the close of the sitting, all the
senators went together to St. Cloud, and by the voice of Cambaceres prayed
his _Imperial Majesty_ that the organic arrangements might come into force
immediately. "For the glory, as for the happiness of the country, we
proclaim at this very moment Napoleon Bonaparte Emperor of the French."

Those present cried, "Long live the Emperor!" Only the sanction of the law
of hereditary succession was submitted to the popular vote. By the force
of his genius as much as by the splendor of his military glory, Napoleon
had conquered France more completely than Italy or Egypt.




CHAPTER VIII.

GLORY AND SUCCESS (1804-1805).


On the eve of the declaration of the Senate in favor of the empire,
Cambaceres had said to Lebrun, "All is over! the monarchy is re-
established! But I have a presentiment that what they are now constructing
will not be durable. We made war upon Europe to give it republics, which
should be daughters of the French Republic; now we shall make it to give
Europe monarchs, sons or brothers of ours; and France, exhausted, will
finally succumb to such fatal attempts."

A year before that, when the consulship for life was proclaimed, the wise
and virtuous Tronchet, when a sorrowful witness of the revolutionary
crimes against which he had defended King Louis XVI., had shown the same
inquietude and fatal presentiment. "This young man begins like Caesar," he
said of General Bonaparte; "I am afraid he may end as he did."

The daggers of the Roman conspirators had arrested Caesar in his course.
Napoleon had found neither a Brutus nor a Cassius: he reigned without
contest, by a triumphal acclamation of 3,572,329 suffrages against 2569
"Noes." The country was eager to salute its new master, with a curiosity
mixed with confidence in the unexpected resources of his genius. The
courtiers alone around him who had found no place in the prodigal
distribution of honors, muttered their murmurs. They served him
nevertheless; and Talleyrand remained minister of foreign affairs, even
when all the important posts of the empire had escaped his desires.

With more calmness and pride than the courtiers, Moreau and the royalist
conspirators waited in prison for their verdict. Napoleon was as eager as
they were, being in haste to rid himself of an embarrassment which could
become a danger. In proportion as the trial proceeded, Moreau's case was
more and more kept distinct from that of the other prisoners. The mode of
defence adopted by the royalists tended entirely to prove his innocence.
"We entered France," they said, "deceived by false reports, and with the
hope of securing our restoration: General Moreau refused us his
assistance, and our project failed." The general did not appear disturbed
by the irregular jurisdiction to which his case was to be referred.
"Strive," he wrote to his wife, "to make sure that those who are to judge
me are just men, incapable of betraying their conscience. If I am judged
by persons of honor, I cannot complain, although they have apparently
suppressed the jury."

The public interest was lively, and openly shown, in spite of the evident
annoyance of the emperor. The friends of the royalist prisoners were
numerous and ardent; and, whether from admiration or indifference, the
public believed General Moreau innocent of all conspiracy, and made excuse
for the dissatisfaction or ambition which he might have manifested. The
sharers of his renown--Dessoles, Gouvion St. Cyr, Macdonald, Lecourbe--
were faithfully present at every sitting. I borrow from the interesting
recollections of Madame Recamier the picture of the spectacle then seen in
the hall of the Palace of Justice, every approach to which was choked by
the crowd. "The prisoners, of whom there were forty-seven, were for the
most part unknown to each other, and filled the raised seats facing those
where the judges sat. Each prisoner was seated between two gendarmes;
those near Moreau were full of respect. When I raised my veil the general
recognized me, and rose to salute me. I returned his salute with emotion
and respect. I was deeply touched at seeing them treat as a criminal that
great general whose reputation was then so glorious and unstained. It was
no longer a question of republic and republicans. Excepting Moreau, who I
am certain was an entire stranger to the conspiracy, it was the royalist
loyalty that alone was on its defence against the new power. This cause of
the ancient monarchy had as its head a man of the people, Georges
Cadoudal.

"That fearless Georges! We looked at him with the thought that that head,
so freely and energetically devoted, must fall on the scaffold; or that he
alone, probably, would not escape death, as he did nothing for that
purpose. Disdaining to defend himself, he only defended his friends; and
when they tried to persuade him to ask for pardon, as the other prisoners
had done, he replied, 'Do you promise me a fairer opportunity of dying?'

"In the ranks of the accused, Polignac and Riviere were still noticeable,
interesting from their youth and devotion. Pichegru, whose name will
remain historically united with Moreau's, was missing at his side--or
rather, one believed his shade was visible there, because it was known
that he also was not in the prison.

"Another recollection, the death of the Duc d'Enghien, increased the
sorrow and terror of many minds, even among the most devoted partisans of
Bonaparte."

Taken as a whole, and in spite of the embarrassment caused by the
persistence of two or three of the accusers, the public judicial
examination was favorable to General Moreau. On being accused of having
agreed to a reconciliation with the traitor Pichegru, he replied, "Since
the beginning of the Revolution there have been many traitors. There were
some who were traitors in 1789, without being so in 1793; there were
others who were so in '93 but were not in '95, others who were so in '95
but have not been so since. Many were republicans who are not so now.
General Pichegru may have had an understanding with Conde in the year IV.;
I believe that he had; but he was included in the proscription of
Fructidor, and must be considered as one of those who were then
proscribed. When I saw other Fructidorians at the head of the authorities
of state--when Conde's army filled the Parisian drawing-rooms and those of
the First Consul, I might very well take a share in restoring to France
the conqueror of Holland. I am credited with the absurd idea of making use
of royalists in the hope of regaining power if they were successful. I
have made war for ten years, and during those ten years I am not aware of
having done absurd things." When they laid emphasis on his interview with
Pichegru and Georges, he said, "A quarter of an hour is but little for the
discussion of a plan of government. It is said that Pichegru was
dissatisfied; probably we were not of the same mind." On the president
regretting that he had not denounced Pichegru and the royalists, saying
that he owed it to a government that loaded him with benefits, Moreau
exclaimed, "The conqueror of Hohenlinden is not a denouncer, M. le
President. Do not put my services and my fortune in the same balance, for
there is no possible comparison between the things. I should have fifty
millions to-day, had I made the same use of victory which many others have
done!"

Moreau wished to plead himself the cause of his life and renown. "It is
only by my counsel," he said, "that I wish to address justice"--here the
illustrious general looked round upon the attentive multitude--"but I feel
that both on your account and mine I ought to speak myself. Unfortunate
circumstances, produced by chance or caused by hatred, may for an instant
obscure the life of the most honorable man; and a clever criminal may keep
off suspicion and the proof of his crimes. The whole life of a prisoner is
always the most certain testimony against him and for him. I therefore set
my whole life to witness against my accusers and prosecutors; it has been
public enough to be known: I shall only recall a few of its epochs: and
the witnesses whom I shall summon will be the French people, and the
people whom France has conquered. I was devoted to the study of law at the
beginning of that revolution which was to establish the liberty of the
French people; and the object of my life being thus changed, I devoted it
to arms. I became a warrior because I was a citizen: I bore this character
beneath our standards, and have always preserved it. I was promoted
quickly, but always from step to step without passing any; always by
serving my country, never by flattering the committees. On being appointed
commander, when victory obliged us to march through the countries of our
enemies, I was as anxious that our character should be respected as that
our arms should be dreaded. War, under my orders, was a calamity only on
the battlefield. I have the presumption to think that the country has not
forgotten my services then, nor the ready devotion which I showed when
fighting as a subordinate; nor how I was appointed to the command-in-chief
by the reverses of our arms, and, in one sense, named general by our
misfortunes. It is still remembered how I twice recomposed the army from
the fragments of those which had been scattered, and how, after having
twice restored it to a condition of being able to cope with the Russians
and Austrians, I twice laid down the command to take another of greater
responsibility. I was not during that period of my life more republican
than during the others, though I seemed so. It is well known that there
was a proposal to put me at the head of a movement similar to that of the
18th Brumaire. I refused, believing that I was made to command armies, and
having no desire to command a Republic. I did more; on the 18th Brumaire I
was in Paris. That revolution, instigated by others, could not disturb my
peace of mind; but directed by a man surrounded by great renown, I might
have hoped for happy results from it. I took part in it to assist it,
whilst some other parties urged me to lead them in opposing it. I received
in Paris General Bonaparte's orders, and, in seeing them executed, I
assisted in raising him to that high degree of power which circumstances
rendered necessary. When, shortly afterwards, he offered me the command of
the army of the Rhine, I accepted it from him with as much devotion as
from the hands of the Republic itself. Never had my successes been more
rapid, more numerous, or more decisive, than during that period; and their
renown was reflected upon the government which accuses me. What a moment
for conspiring, if such a scheme had ever entered my mind! Would an
ambitious man, or a conspirator, have let slip the opportunity when at the
head of an army of 100,000 men so often victorious? I only thought of
disbanding the army before returning to the repose of civil life.

"During that rest, which has not been without glory, I enjoyed my honors
(such honors as no human power can deprive me of), the recollections of
what I had done, the testimony of my conscience, the esteem of my country
and of foreigners, and, to be candid, the flattering and pleasant
presentiment of the esteem of posterity. My mind and disposition were so
well known, and I kept myself so far aloof from any ambitious project,
that from the victory of Hohenlinden till my arrest my enemies were never
able to accuse me of any crime except freedom in speaking. Do conspirators
openly find fault with that which they do not approve? So much candor is
scarcely reconcilable with political secrets and plots. If I had wished to
adopt and follow the plans of any conspirators, I should have concealed my
sentiments, and solicited every appointment which might have restored me
to power. As a guide on such a route, in default of the political talent
which I have never had, there were examples known to all the world and
rendered imposing by success. I might have known that Monk retained
command of his armies when he wished to conspire, and that Cassius and
Brutus came nearer Caesar's heart in order to pierce it."

When the pleading was finished, the emperor and the public anxiously
waited for the sentence. The fact of the royalist plot being proved, the
condemnation of the prisoners was certain, and the inquietude and hopes of
all were concentrated on Moreau. "Towards the close of the trial," said
Madame Recamier, "all business was stopped, the entire population were out
of doors, they talked of nothing but Moreau." The emperor had informed the
judges that he would not demand that the general be condemned to death
unless in the interest of justice, and as a salutary example, his fixed
intention being to grant him pardon. One of the members of the tribunal,
Clavier, a man of great virtue and learning, said, on hearing General
Murat's proposition, "And who will pardon us ourselves, if we pass
judgment and condemnation against our consciences?" At the first
deliberation of the tribunal, seven judges out of twelve voted for
acquittal pure and simple: being afraid of Napoleon's anger, they
sentenced Moreau to two years' imprisonment. "Why, that's a punishment for
a pickpocket!" exclaimed the emperor in a passion. By wise counsel he was
induced to show a prudent clemency. Moreau, nearly ruined by the expense
of the trial, and as annoyed by the sentence as Napoleon was, refused to
ask any favor. "If it was certain that I took part in the conspiracy," he
exclaimed, "I ought to have been condemned to death as a leader. I undergo
the extremity of horror and disgrace. Nobody will believe that I played
the part of a corporal."

His young and handsome wife, being near confinement, asked for and
obtained permission to sail to America with her husband, and when delayed
at Cadiz by child-birth, was urged to set out on the voyage through
Fouche's influence in the Spanish court. "Four years ago about this time,"
wrote the general, "I gained the battle of Hohenlinden. That event, so
glorious for my country, procured for my fellow-countrymen a repose which
they had long wanted. I alone have been unable to obtain it. Will they
refuse it me at the extremity of Europe, 500 leagues from my native land?"

Moreau carried with him into exile the cruel recollection of the name
"brigand" (ruffian), which had been formerly abusively replied to him, and
that keen desire for vengeance which was one day to prove so fatal to his
renown.

Of the royalist prisoners, twenty were condemned to death. In spite of
Murat's eager pleading, eleven perished on the scaffold with Georges
Cadoudal, equal to him in the imperturbability of their political and
religious faith. Riviere and Polignac, General Lajolais, and four others
owed their lives to the supplications of their families, judiciously
assisted by the kindness of the Empress Josephine. They were all sent to
prison.

Napoleon felt with more justice than Moreau himself that the conscience of
the judges had been opposed to his supreme will. In spite of the silence
which he imposed upon the organs of the press, more and more roughly
treated by him, public opinion remained equally stirred up against the
murder of the Duc d'Enghien. A thought which had arisen in his mind from
the day of his elevation to the empire, gained fresh forces from the
feeling of silent disapprobation of all honorable men. He wished to place
a religious stamp upon his greatness, and instructed Cardinal Caprara to
ask the Pope to come to Paris to consecrate him. "It is most unlikely,"
said he, "that any power will make objection to it either in right or in
fact. Therefore broach the subject, and when you have transmitted the
reply, I shall make the suitable and necessary arrangements with the
Pope."

As in the case of the Concordat, the emperor's confidential advisers were
not favorable to the idea of consecration. The discussion in the Council
of State was lively, characterized by all the philosophical and
revolutionary suspicion as to the pretensions of a power being invited to
bestow the crown and thus probably believing it had the power to withdraw
it. Napoleon had formed a better judgment of the profound and permanent
effect of the condescension which he asked from the Pope. "Gentlemen,"
said he to his council, "you are deliberating in Paris in the Tuileries;
suppose that you were deliberating in London in the British cabinet, that
in a word, you were ministers of the King of England, and that you were
told that at this moment the Pope was crossing the Alps to consecrate the
Emperor of the French, would you consider that as a triumph for England or
for France?"

The council had not insisted, and the court of Rome felt their force of
resistance becoming weaker every day. The death of the Duc d'Enghien had
caused the Pope much sorrow:--"My tears now," said Pius VII., "at the
death of the one and the attempt upon the other." The French bishops who
had not resigned had renewed their protestations against the Concordat.
The Sacred College, when consulted as to the journey of the holy father,
were divided in their opinion. Five cardinals declared that by so doing
the Pope would ratify all the usurpations of which the new Emperor of the
French had rendered himself culpable; fifteen showed less severity, but
all insisted upon surrounding the solicited favor with numerous
conditions. "The actual advantage to religion expressly professed in the
invitation which his Holiness is about to accept, but actually injured in
the result, can alone excuse in the eyes of Catholics the temporary
abandonment of the holy seat," wrote Cardinal Consalvi to Cardinal
Caprara: "the dignity and honor of the head of religion both require it."
He also wrote, "The form of oath taken by the emperor raises great
difficulties. We cannot admit the oath _to respect and caused to be
respected the laws of the Concordat_, which is the same thing as saying
that one must respect the organic articles and cause them to be respected.
_To respect the liberty of worship_ supposes an engagement not to tolerate
and allow, but to sustain and protect, and extends not only to persons,
but to the thing, that is to say to all forms of worship. But a Catholic
cannot defend the error of false forms of worship."

Cardinal Caprara, as papal legate in Paris, and Cardinal Fesch, as French
ambassador in Rome, explained away or avoided the difficulties. The
legate, always timid and easily persuaded, gave grounds for hopes which he
was not always able to realize; the cardinal, haughty and violent, divided
between devotion to his all-powerful nephew and his own restoration to
ecclesiastical practices and sentiments, was at Rome lavish of presents
and threats. He at the same time advised the court of Rome to claim the
Legations, whatever were the scruples of the Pope to confound temporal
questions with spiritual concessions. Skilful in making use of the real
Intentions or wishes which he was aware of, without compromising his
government by any formal engagement, Cardinal Fesch at last triumphed over
the repugnances of the Pope by avoiding most of the conditions of the Holy
College, and on the 30th September, 1804, he presented to Pius VII.
General Caffarelli, the emperor's deputy at Rome, instead of the two
bishops formerly insisted upon. Still less explicit than his ambassador,
Napoleon gave no hopes to the holy father of the important concessions
with which the latter was fondly flattering himself.

"Very Holy Father," said the emperor, "the happy result evinced in the
morality and character of my people by the re-establishment of the
Christian religion, leads me to pray your Holiness to give me a new proof
of the interest which your Holiness takes in my destiny and that of this
great nation, in one of the most important periods shown in the annals of
the world. I beg your Holiness to come and give a religious character of
the highest degree to the ceremony of the consecration and coronation of
the first Emperor of the French. That ceremony will acquire a new lustre
if done by your Holiness. It will bring upon us and our peoples the
blessing of God, whose decrees govern according to His will the lot of
empires and of families.

"Your Holiness knows the friendly feeling which I have long had towards
you, and must therefore infer the pleasure which I shall have in giving
you fresh proofs.

"Thereupon we pray God, most holy father, that He may keep you for many
years in the rule and government of our mother the holy Church.

"Your devoted son,

"Napoleon."

The Pope had determined to set out, being convinced that resistance was
impossible, and harassed by a serious inquietude the importance of which
was afterwards confirmed, and by the vague fears of a sickly old man. He
was offended by the contemptuous terms which the foreign ambassadors
applied to the condescension of him whom they called the "French emperor's
chaplain." His Italian subtilty was disturbed, and his natural kindness
chafed by the dryness of the emperor's message. "This is poison which you
have brought to me," said he to General Caffarelli, after reading
Napoleon's letter. He set out nevertheless, obstinately refusing to take
with him Cardinal Consalvi, in whose hands he had placed his abdication.
"If they keep me here," said he one day in Paris, "they will find that
they only have in their power a wretched monk called Barnabus
Chiaramonti."

The Pope's departure had been much hastened by the repeated urgency of the
emperor, and his journey was so also. The time for the ceremony was fixed
without consulting him. As Cardinal Consalvi said in his Memoirs, "they
made the holy father gallop from Rome to Paris like an almoner summoned by
his master to say mass."

On the 25th November, 1804, about mid-day, the emperor was hunting in the
forest of Fontainebleau, and went towards Croix St. Herem at the moment
when the Pope's carriage just reached that spot. The carriage stopped, and
"the holy father stepped out in his white dress; as the road was muddy he
could not soil his silk stockings by stepping on the ground." He got out,
however, whilst the emperor, leaping from his horse, advanced to him and
embraced him. The meeting had been skilfully arranged in order that the
new master of France might be spared the annoyance of a deference which he
considered excessive. Both doors of the emperor's carriage were opened at
once, and Napoleon entering by the right, Pius VII. naturally took the
left. The empress and imperial family were waiting for the Pope at the
great portico of the palace. The emperor seemed triumphant. The Pope was
full of emotion, affected by the kind reception he had met with by the
people during his journey. "I have passed through a population all on
their knees," said he.

The Emperor Napoleon was not on his knees, and Pius VII. was even sensible
of it. Several questions had remained undecided before the holy father's
departure for France: Napoleon had resolutely disposed of them, and
yielded only on one point. Still bandied about between his own
uncertainty, the love which he still felt for the Empress Josephine, the
intrigues of her family, who were opposed to him, and the passionate
longing to have a son to inherit his crown, he had been on the point of
demanding a divorce a few days previously, but on the empress making the
Pope her confidant their union was confirmed, and on the eve of the
coronation, with the greatest secrecy, the religious marriage of the
emperor with Josephine was celebrated by Cardinal Fesch. Pius VII.
declared that it was impossible for him to proceed with the ceremony of
the double consecration so long as that act of reparation remained
unaccomplished.

Those who had charge of the arrangements for the great spectacle, the Abbe
Bernier, lately appointed Bishop of Orleans, and the Arch-chancellor
Cambaceres, had frequently discussed the ceremonial of the coronation
properly so-called. In France the peers, in Italy the bishops, formerly
held the crown above the head of the sovereign, who then received it from
the hands of the pontiff. "All the French emperors, all those of Germany
who have been consecrated by the popes were at the same crowned by them.
The holy father, in order to decide as to the journey, must receive from
Paris the assurance that in this case there will be no innovation contrary
to the honor and dignity of the sovereign pontiff." At Rome the replies
bad been vague; at Paris the emperor had calmed the zeal and inquietude of
his servants. "I shall arrange that myself," said he. On the 2nd December,
1804, the ceremony of consecration took place according to the solemn
ceremonial, and the emperor, after being anointed with the holy oil, held
out his hand towards the crown which the Pope had just taken from the
altar. Pius VII., completely taken by surprise, made no resistance, and
Napoleon himself placing on his head the emblem of sovereign power, then
crowned with his own hands the empress, who was in tears kneeling before
him. Mounting his throne whilst his brothers held up his robe, being
compelled to that act of humility by his imperious will, and their sisters
bore the train of the empress, the Pope pronounced the solemn formula,
"Vivat in aeternum Augustus!" And under the very eyes of the holy pontiff,
the Emperor Napoleon took the oath in the form which had been so much
opposed in Rome. His victory was complete: he triumphed over the old
revolutionary prejudices, whilst at the same time confirming in Notre
Dame, in spite of the scruples of the court of Rome, the principles of
liberty acquired by the French Revolution.

When the Pope, sad and discouraged, at last set out for Rome, 4th April,
1805, he had obtained none of the favors which he thought he had a right
to expect. The emperor was inflexible on the question of the "organic
articles," making no concession as to their application. The statement
presented by the Pope and drawn up by Cardinal Antonelli, the most
enthusiastic of his councillors, was on Napoleon's orders replied to by
Portalis, who was skilful in concealing the refusal under the grave
phraseology of legal and Christian language. Urged to extremity, Pius VII.
applied to the emperor himself to ask the restoration of the Legations.
Talleyrand wrote in reply, "France has very dearly bought the power which
she enjoys. It is not in the emperor's power to take anything from an
empire which is the fruit of ten years' war and bloodshed, continued with
an admirable courage and accompanied with the most unhappy agitation and
an unexampled constancy. It is still less in his power to diminish the
territory of a foreign state which, by entrusting him with the care of
governing, had laid upon him the duty of protecting it." A few sentences
added by the emperor to the diplomatic document left room for vague hopes
of certain consolations. The illusions of Pius VII. began to disappear;
without compensation or recompense, he had worked to consolidate for a
short time the throne of the conqueror; the conquests which he had won
were not of this world; the complete submission of the constitutional
bishops, and the genuine respect with which the French people constantly
surrounded him were due to the personal veneration which he inspired. When
at last he crossed the mountains the Emperor Napoleon had reached Italy
before him, as if to indicate more emphatically the condescension which
the sovereign pontiff had shown to him. It was at Turin that he finally
took leave of Pius VII., letting him return to Rome while he took in the
cathedral of Milan the iron crown of the Lombard kings, and placed it on
his head before an immense crowd of on-lookers, using the traditional
words of the ancient Lombard monarchy, "God has given it me, who dare
touch it?"

The Cisalpine Republic no longer existed, and the Emperor of the French,
King of Italy, boasted of the moderation he had evinced in keeping the two
crowns apart. At one time he intended raising his brother Joseph to the
new throne, but the latter was afraid of compromising his right to succeed
to the imperial crown. Louis Bonaparte refused to govern in the name of
the child which he had by Hortense de Beauharnais, daughter of the Empress
Josephine by her first marriage, whom he had married with regret.
Compelled to unite, on his own head, the two crowns of France and Italy,
Napoleon entrusted the care of the government to his son-in-law, Eugene de
Beauharnais. His protestations of respect for the independence of the
allied peoples did not prevent his annexing to the kingdom of Italy the
territory of Genoa, whilst forming the domains of Lucca and Piombino into
a principality in favor of his eldest sister, Elisa Baciocchi. The storm
was already threatening the feeble government of Naples: the queen,
obsequious in her alarm, had sent to Milan an ambassador to congratulate
the emperor and king. "Tell your queen," exclaimed Napoleon, "that her
intrigues are known to me, and that her children will curse her memory,
for I shall not leave in her kingdom enough of land to build her tomb
upon."

So much brilliance and severity in the display of his sovereign power
proved of service to the irreconcilable enemies who were stirring up
Europe against the already uncontrollable ambition of the new emperor.
Pitt had already returned to power (19th May, 1804), though with less
support in Parliament, and very infirm in health. He felt himself
sustained by the breath of public opinion, and by the firm confidence of
the mass of the nation. In this great duel, of which he was not to see the
end, it was the consolation, as well as the honor of the illustrious
minister, that he had constantly defended the principles of true liberty,
as well as European independence, against the encroachments and contagion
of the revolutionary powers, and those of anarchy or absolutism.

It was in the name of the same principles that the young Emperor of Russia
then proposed to Europe a mediation which was soon to end in a coalition.
Generously chimerical in his inexperience, Alexander dreamt of a general
rearrangement of Europe, which was to secure forever the peace of every
nation. Poland itself was to be reconstituted, Italy and Germany to
recover their independence, and a new code of the rights of nations on sea
and land was to regulate the relations of civilized states. Nowosiltzoff
was entrusted to discuss this scheme with Pitt.

It was by the prudence and skilful tact of the English minister that the
scaffolding of ambitious hopes was overthrown, and the Emperor Alexander
brought to the practical consideration of a durable alliance. England and
Russia engaged to carry out the formation of a great European league and
the legitimate re-establishment of the states. Hanover and Northern
Germany were to be evacuated, the independence of Holland and Switzerland
guaranteed, the King of Piedmont reestablished, the kingdom of Naples
consolidated, Italy delivered. In order to bring Prussia into that
alliance, Pitt proposed to grant him the Rhenish provinces. He refused
formally to evacuate Malta, and pleaded the English prejudices against the
Russian overtures with reference to the Turkish territory. The Emperor
Alexander still hoped to obtain important concessions from Napoleon.
Trusting in his sincere disinterestedness, the young monarch had got
Prussia to ask passports for his envoy; Napoleon was in Italy, and said he
could not receive Nowosiltzoff before July. "I expect nothing from this
mediation," he wrote to the King of Prussia: "Alexander is too fickle and
feeble; Russia is too far, too foreign to colonial and maritime interests;
the Woronzovs too much influenced by English money, for one to have
reasonable hopes of an advantageous general peace. Whenever propositions
are passed at St. Petersburg to reach Paris, there is no wish to come to
an understanding: in London they wish to gain time, dazzle the eyes of all
the peoples, and perhaps form a coalition which should bring disgrace upon
England. My brother, I wish for peace, but I do not wish to agree to my
people being disinherited of the commerce of the world. I have no
ambition: I have twice evacuated the third part of Europe without being
compelled to do so. I owe Russia no more as to Italian affairs than she
owes me with reference to Turkish and Persian affairs. Russia has not the
right to take that tone with anybody, and with me still less than with
anybody whatever."

The Emperor Napoleon had already given his reply to Europe. The annexation
of the territory of Genoa, and the threat to the Neapolitan government
sufficiently proved his intentions. The treaty provisionally signed on the
11th April between England and the Emperor Alexander was confirmed; and on
the 9th August, Austria, which already had a secret engagement with
Russia, adhered to the Anglo-Russian alliance. Sweden joining soon after,
the third coalition was now complete. Prussia remained as a common object
for the negotiations and advances of all. Napoleon gave her hopes of
obtaining Hanover.

He had just set out for Boulogne, always the centre of his adventurous
plans. Already in the previous year he believed that he had reached the
accomplishment of the project so carefully matured and prepared with that
mixture of foresight and boldness which so often secured the unexpected
success of his attempts. His enormous preparations were at last completed,
the Dutch squadron alone being waited for; and the emperor deceived the
impatience of his troops and his own agitation by reviews and military
ceremonies. On the 2nd July, he wrote to Admiral Latouche-Treville, whom
he had put in command of his Toulon squadron: "By the same messenger let
me know on what day you will weigh anchor. Let me know also what the enemy
is doing, and where Nelson is located. Reflect upon the great enterprise
which you are about to execute, and before I sign your definite orders let
me understand the manner in which you think they would be most
advantageously carried into effect. I have appointed you Grand Officer of
the Empire, Inspector of the Coasts of the Mediterranean; but I desire
much that the operation you are about to undertake may enable me to
elevate you to such a degree of consideration and honor, that you may have
nothing more to desire. The squadron of Rochefort (commanded by Admiral
Villeneuve), composed of five vessels, of which one is a three-decker, and
of four frigates, is ready to weigh anchor; it has before it only five of
the enemy's ships. The squadron of Brest (commanded by Admiral Ganteaume)
is of twenty-one ships; these ships have just weighed anchor in order to
harass the enemy and compel him to keep there a large number of vessels.
The enemy have also six ships before the Texel, and there blockade the
Dutch squadron, consisting of eight vessels, four frigates, and a convoy
of thirty ships in which the corps of General Marmont is embarked. Between
Etaples, Boulogne, Wimereux and Ambleteuse (two new ports which I have
constructed) we have 1800 gun-boats of various kinds, and 120,000 men, and
10,000 horses; only let us be masters of the strait for six hours, and we
shall be the masters of the world.

"The enemy have before Boulogne, before Ostend, and at the Downs, two
ships of seventy-four guns, two of sixty-four guns, and two or three of
fifty guns. Until now Admiral Cornwallis has had only fifteen vessels, but
all the reserves from Plymouth and Portsmouth have come to reinforce him
before Brest.

"The enemy keep also at Cork, in Ireland, four or five ships of war; I do
not speak of frigates or small vessels, of which they have a large number.
If you deceive Nelson, he will go to Sicily or to Egypt or to Ferrol. It
would then appear to me best to make a considerable roundabout, and arrive
before Rochefort; thus making your squadron one of sixteen ships and
eleven frigates; and then, without dropping anchor or losing a single
instant, arrive before Boulogne. Our squadron at Brest, twenty-three
vessels strong, will have on board an army, and will be constantly under
sail set, so that Cornwallis will be obliged to press close to the shore
of Brittany in order to try and prevent the escape of our fleet. For the
rest, in order to fix my ideas upon this operation, which has its risks,
but of which the success offers results so enormous, I wait for the scheme
you have mentioned to me, and which you will send me by return of the
courier. You must embark as many provisions as possible, so that under any
circumstances you may have nothing to hinder you."

It is the weakness as well as the honor of human enterprises to depend
upon the life and force of a man. Before Admiral Latouche-Treville had
been able to profit by the occurrence of the mistral to get out of Toulon
and deceive Nelson, he himself succumbed to the illness that had preyed
upon him since the expedition of San Domingo (20th August, 1804), and the
projected expedition against the coast of England was indefinitely
postponed. "The flotilla has been looked upon as temporary," wrote the
Emperor to Decres, the Minister of Marine; "it will be necessary
henceforth to look upon it as a fixed establishment, and from this moment
to give the greatest attention to all that is unchangeable, managing it by
other regulations than the squadron."

It was at the same time the plan of the emperor to try to turn away the
thoughts of the English from his schemes of invasion; in the midst of his
arrangements for the coronation, and of the diplomatic negotiations, and
whilst writing a private letter to the King of England, pompously
proposing peace, he had formed other designs and prepared new plans in
order at last to carry out his great enterprise.

It was no longer on the coasts of France or of Spain, but far away in the
regions of the Antilles that the French squadrons of Toulon, Brest, and
Rochefort were to effect their junction and concentrate their forces. The
hope of Napoleon was to see the English, deceived by their disappearance,
dash off in pursuit of them and rush to the succor of the Indies. The
emperor had for a moment thought of directing the blows of his united navy
against this distant and new formed empire. Returning to the project of
the descent on England, he had made Admiral Villeneuve set out directly
after the 30th of March. He was to join at Cadiz the Spanish Admiral
Gravina and at Martinique, Admiral Missiessy, who had left Rochefort on
the 11th of January. Admiral Ganteaume, taking advantage of the first
moment when the English should be obliged by contrary winds to withdraw
from Brest, was in his turn to set sail for Martinique. The fleet, which
would then be fifty or sixty strong, assured of triumphing over all the
English forces if they should dare to face it, would return into the
channel to cover the departure of the flotilla. "The English do not know
what calamity awaits them," wrote Napoleon on the 4th of August to the
Admiral Decres. "If we are masters of the passage for twelve hours,
England's day is done."

Racine has said by the mouth of Mithridates,--

               "Mais, pour etre approuves,
  De semblables projets veulent etre acheves."

Villeneuve quoted it to the Minister of Marine when the plans formed by
the emperor were confided to him. This mournful forecast haunted, no
doubt, more than once the thoughts of the admiral when he found himself at
sea, discontented and uneasy. "We have bad masts, bad sails, bad rigging,
bad officers, and bad sailors," said he. Arrived, on the 14th of May, at
Martinique, he found Missiessy no longer there, but his orders obliged him
to await the arrival of Ganteaume. A continuous calm prevented the latter
from leaving Brest, where he was blockaded by the English. At the two ends
of the world, discouragement weighed upon the admirals consigned to
inaction by unforeseen obstacles met with in the execution of a plan which
took no account of accidents of wind or sea. In vain wrote Napoleon to
Ganteaume, "You hold in your hands the destinies of the world." The
unfortunate commander of the Brest squadron communicated his despair to
the Minister of Marine: "I believe, my friend, that you share all my
experience. Every day that passes is a day of torment for me; and I
tremble lest at the end I should be obliged to commit some gross folly.
The length of the days and the beauty of the season cause me to despair of
the expedition." In the middle of May, Admiral Magon was despatched to
Martinique to give Villeneuve orders to return with his squadron, to raise
the blockade of Ferrol, to touch at Rochefort, and join Admiral Missiessy,
and then to present themselves before Brest in order to force the blockade
with the aid of Ganteaume. The united fleets were then to set sail towards
the channel.

Upon land, and until the day when success and presumption disturbed the
clearness of his judgment, and the penetrating light of his genius,
Napoleon was accustomed to judge soberly of the obstacles he calculated on
overcoming, and of his power to do so. Without maritime experience, and
struggling against the recognized superiority of the English navy, he
constantly committed the error of counting on the mistakes of the enemy
and of looking on the chiefs of his squadrons as equal in talent to
Nelson. No sooner had the latter learnt the direction of Villeneuve than
he dashed off in pursuit, caring little as to the number of vessels he
might have to confront. Napoleon had miscalculated the length of the
voyage. "Nelson will have been first to Surinam, thence to Trinidad, and
from that to Barbadoes," wrote he on the 28th of June to Admiral Decres;
"he will lose two days at Cape Verd; he will lose much time in collecting
his ships, on account of the vessels and frigates to which he will give
chase on his way. When he learns that Villeneuve is not in the Windward
Islands he will go to Jamaica, and during the days lost in provisioning
and waiting, great blows will be struck. This is my calculation. Nelson is
in America and Collingwood in the East Indies. Nelson will not venture
before Martinique; he will stay at Barbadoes in order to plan a junction
with Cochrane."

Nelson had already quitted Barbadoes and was pursuing his adversary from
anchorage to anchorage. Troubled by this formidable proximity, and pressed
by the formal orders which enjoined him to transfer his efforts to the
seas of Europe, Villeneuve crowded all sail to reach Ferrol. Nelson soon
followed him, directing his course towards the Mediterranean, but careful
to warn the Admirality, who sent Admiral Calder with fifteen vessels to
the neighborhood of Cape Finisterre. It was in these waters that
Villeneuve encountered Nelson on July 22nd, 1805. The weather was foggy,
and the sea rough; the engagement ended without any important result, two
Spanish vessels being captured by the English. Villeneuve set sail
speedily towards Ferrol, without entering the Channel, the order having
arrived to take his course to Brest immediately; but he lingered at
Corunna, persuaded that Nelson had joined Admiral Calder, and that both
would combine with Lord Cornwallis for his destruction. In again taking to
sea, he let it be thought that he was setting out for Brest; General
Lauriston, aide-de-camp to the emperor, and who had accompanied Villeneuve
in his expedition, wrote so immediately to the emperor. But the
discouragement of Villeneuve, more profound than ever, showed itself in a
letter to his friend, Admiral Decres. "They make me the arbiter of the
highest interests," wrote he; "my despair doubles in proportion as more
confidence is placed in me, because I cannot pretend to any success,
whatever plan I adopt. It is perfectly plain to me that the fleets of
France and Spain cannot be effective in large squadrons. Divisions of
three or four, or five at the most, are all that we are capable of
conducting. Let Ganteaume get out, and he will judge the point. Public
opinion will be settled. I am about to set out, but I know not what I
shall do. Eight vessels are in view of the coast at a few leagues'
distance. They will follow us, but I shall not be able to join them, and
they will go to unite with the other squadrons before Brest or Cadiz,
according as I make my way to one or other of those ports. I am far from
being in a position, in leaving this place with twenty-nine vessels, to be
able to fight against a similar number; I do not fear to tell you that I
should be hard put to it to encounter twenty."

For three weeks past the emperor had been at Boulogne, consumed with
impatience, exercising the troops every day, repeating the manoeuvres of
embarkation, his attention fixed upon the sea, and ready to deliver his
flotilla and his army to the mercy of the waves as soon as his squadrons
should at last appear in the Channel. The days sped by; in vain ships
after ships were hurried off to Admiral Villeneuve, bearing the most
urgent orders. "If you run up here in three days, if only for twenty-four
hours, your mission would be accomplished. The English are not so numerous
as you think; they are everywhere detained by the wind. Never will a
squadron have run a few risks with so great an end, and never will our
soldiers have had the chance on land or sea to shed their blood for a
grander or nobler result. For the great object of aiding a descent upon
that power which for six centuries has oppressed France, we ought all to
die without regret."

The Minister of Marine, clever and experienced in naval affairs, endowed
with a cold and prudent spirit, had never approved the projects of
Napoleon, and had constantly sought to turn him from them. The conviction
which was firmly rooted in the mind of Decres as to the impossibility of
success, in connection with the sorrowful discouragement which impelled
Villeneuve towards Cadiz instead of towards Brest, increased the
uneasiness as well as the anger of the emperor. Located in barracks by the
seashore, whilst Napoleon resided at the Chateau du Pont de Briques,
Decres wrote to his terrible master: "I throw myself at the feet of your
Majesty, to beseech of you not to associate the Spanish vessels with the
operations of the squadrons. Far from having gained anything in this
respect, your Majesty hears that this association would add to the vessels
of Cadiz and Carthagena. In this state of things, in which your Majesty
counts as nothing my arguments and experience, I know of no situation that
would be more painful than mine. I desire your Majesty to take seriously
into consideration that I have no other interest than that of your banner
and the honor of your arms; and if your fleet is at Cadiz, I beseech you
to consider this event as an act of destiny which reserves it for other
operations. I implore you not to cause it to come from Cadiz into the
channel, because the attempt at this moment would only be attended by
misfortunes. I reproach myself with not being able to persuade your
Majesty. I doubt if a single man could succeed in doing so. Deign to form
a council upon maritime affairs--an admiralty, of those who may suit your
Majesty, but as for me, I perceive that in place of growing stronger, I
grow weaker every day. And it cannot but be true that a Minister of
Marine, overruled by your Majesty in naval affairs, becomes useless for
the glory of your arms, if, indeed, not positively hurtful."

A single word from the emperor was the reply to the despairing letter of
his minister:--"Raise yourself to the height of the circumstances and of
the situation in which France and England now find themselves; never again
write me a letter like that which you have written to me; it is not to the
purpose. As for me, I have only need of one thing, and that is to
succeed."

In the depth of his soul; and in his secret thoughts, Napoleon saw himself
conquered by a concurrence of circumstances which he had not been willing
to foresee. His anger continued violent against the instrument who had
failed him in his imprudent designs; he asked Decres, however, what should
be his plans in case Admiral Villeneuve were found at Cadiz, which he
still refused to believe. On August 13th he wrote to Talleyrand: "The more
I reflect upon the state of Europe, the more I see how urgent it is to
take a decisive part. I have in reality nothing to expect from the
explanations of Austria. She will answer by fine phrases and gain time, in
order that I may not be able to act this winter. Her treaty of subsidies
and her act of coalition will be signed this winter under the pretext of
an armed neutrality, and in April I shall find 100,000 Russians in Poland,
provided by England with equipment of horses, artillery, etc., 15,000 to
20,000 English at Malta, and 15,000 Russians at Corfu. I shall find myself
then in a critical situation. My decision is taken. My fleet left Ferrol
on the 29th Thermidor with thirty-four vessels. It had no enemy in sight.
If it followed its instructions, joined itself to the squadron at Brest
and entered the Channel, there is yet time, and I am master of England.
If, on the contrary, my admirals hesitate, manoeuvre badly, and do not
accomplish their purpose, I have no other resource than to wait for the
winter to cross with the flotilla. The plan is a hazardous one. It would
be more so if, pressed by circumstances, political events placed me under
the obligation of passing over in the month of April. In this state of
things I rush to the point where I am most needed; I raise my camps, and
replace my war battalions with my third battalion, always an army
sufficiently formidable for Boulogne; and on the 1st Vendemiaire I find
myself with 200,000 men in Germany, and 25,000 men in the kingdom of
Naples. I march upon Vienna, and I do not lay down my arms till I have
taken Naples and Venice, and have so augmented the States of the Elector
of Bavaria that I shall have nothing to fear from Austria. She will in
this manner be certainly pacified for the winter. I return to Paris, but
to be off again immediately."

It was always one of the sources of power of the Emperor Napoleon, and
perhaps the rarest among them, that the marvellous fecundity of his mind,
and the inexhaustible variety of the projects and conceptions which he was
constantly turning over, reciprocally sustained and complemented each
other. This characteristic of his genius has been ignored; and little
honor has been done to his foresight when he has been depicted as taken in
some degree unawares by the failure of his maritime plans, and constrained
to improvise by a supreme effort the direction of his campaign in Germany.
In the last days of August, whilst he was still uncertain as to the
movements of his squadrons, all the orders were already given for the
concentration of his armies. Bernadotte was to proceed to Goettingen with
the army of Hanover; Prince Eugene was collecting his forces on the Adige;
Gouvion St. Cyr was ready to march upon Naples; and Marmont to advance
from the Texel upon Mayence. General Duroc had set out for Berlin,
commissioned to propose an alliance. "My intention is not to leave Austria
and Russia to combine with England," said Napoleon. "My conduct in that
event would be that of the great Frederic in his first war." He wrote to
Marshal Berthier on August 25th: "The decisive moment has arrived; you
know how important a day is in this affair. Austria restrains herself no
longer; she believes, without doubt, that we are all drowned in the
ocean."

Doubt was no longer possible; time was flying, and no news arrived of the
squadron. Villeneuve had evidently retired to Cadiz. The violence and
injustice of the emperor's utterances vexed Decres beyond expression.
"Villeneuve is a wretch, who ought to be ignominiously discharged," cried
he; "he has neither contrivance, nor courage, nor public interest; he
would sacrifice everything provided that he could save his skin." He broke
out thus before Monge, for whom he had retained a true friendship,
notwithstanding the known opinions of the savant, who had remained
republican. Troubled by the anger of Napoleon, Monge went to apprise Daru,
then principal Secretary of War, who presented himself before the emperor.
Badly informed as to the intentions of the master and the causes of his
discontent, he waited silently. The emperor, coming up to him, exclaimed,
"Do you know where Villeneuve is? He is at Cadiz." And, unfolding before
Daru all the projects he had been cherishing for six months, and
attributing their failure to the cowardice and incapacity of the men he
had employed, he launched out into invectives and recriminations. All of a
sudden, and as if he had relieved his soul by the outburst of his passion,
"Sit down there," said he to Daru, "and write!" A powerful effort, and the
natural play of a fruitful imagination, had recalled him to the
combinations which were to make his enemies tremble, and to assure him of
the triumph over Austria of which he had been baulked as regards England.
The plan of his campaign was fixed; all his thoughts turned towards a
dreadful execution of his will.

The secret had been carefully guarded, and already, on all sides, the
French armies were threatening the enemy, when, on the 1st Vendemiaire,
the emperor opened the session of the Senate. "The wishes of the eternal
enemies of the Continent are fulfilled," said he. "War has broken out in
the centre of Germany; Austria and Russia are leagued with England; and
our generation is dragged once more into all the calamities of war. A few
days ago I still hoped that peace might not be broken; menaces and
outrages found me impassive; but the Austrian army has passed the Inn,
Munich is invaded, the Elector of Bavaria is driven from his capital, all
my hopes have vanished. Senators, when, at your desire, at the call of the
entire French people, I placed upon my head the imperial crown, I received
from you, and from all citizens, the promise to maintain it pure and
without blemish. All the promises I have made to you I have kept; the
French people in their turn have made no engagement with me which they
have not even surpassed. Frenchmen, your emperor will do his duty; my
soldiers will do theirs; you will do yours."

General Mack had entered Ulm, and the emperor was still at Saint-Cloud.
The movements of our troops were quietly going forward, when Napoleon
conceived the idea of surrounding the enemy in Suabia by cutting off his
communications with Austria. A note in his own handwriting, written on the
22nd of September, indicates beforehand the positions of all the corps of
the army. On the 27th he arrived at Strasburg, prolonging his residence
there in order to deceive the Austrian general, who kept his attention
constantly fixed upon the Black Forest. On the 30th, at Strasburg, the
emperor addressed to his troops a simple and firm proclamation, animated
by that martial spirit which always inspired the army when he addressed
it. "Soldiers, the war of the third coalition has commenced. The Austrian
army has passed the Inn, broken the treaties, attacked our ally, and sent
him from his capital. You yourselves have been compelled to hasten, by
forced marches, to the defence of our frontiers. But already you have
passed the Rhine. We will not stay our progress until we have assured the
independence of the Germanic state, succored our allies, and confounded
the pride of the unjust aggressors. We will have no more peace without a
guarantee. Our generosity shall not again deceive our policy. Soldiers,
your emperor is in the midst of you; you are only the vanguard of the
great people. If it is necessary, they will rise as one man, to confound
and dissolve this new league woven by the hatred and the gold of England.
But, soldiers, we have forced marches to make, fatigues and privations of
every kind to endure. Whatever obstacles maybe opposed to us we shall be
victorious, and we will take no rest till we have planted our eagles upon
the territory of our enemies."

Napoleon had said, "I reckon on making more use of the legs of my soldiers
than even of their bayonets." The fatal circle was narrowing round General
Mack by the rapid movements of the French troops, without his appearing to
comprehend their aim, or divine the danger which threatened him. On the
8th of October he still wrote, that never had an army been posted in a
manner more fitted to assure its superiority. On the same day, advancing
upon Guenzburg, Marshals Lannes and Murat encountered at Wutingen an
Austrian corps, which was tardily marching to the succor of General
Kienmayer, already dislodged from the bridges of the Danube and the Lech.
The engagement was short and brilliant; the fugitives bore at length to
Ulm the conviction of the overwhelming forces which menaced the Austrian
army. The Emperor Napoleon had arrived at Donauwerth. The first bulletin
from the Grand Army was dated October 7th, explaining all the military
operations: "This grand and vast movement has carried us in a few days to
Bavaria; has enabled us to avoid the Black Mountains, the line of parallel
rivers which fall into the Danube, and the inconvenience of a system of
operations which would have always had the defiles of the Tyrol on the
flank; and lastly, has placed us several marches in the rear of the enemy,
who has no time to lose, to avoid his entire destruction."

Napoleon was particularly watchful with respect to the Tyrol, for he had
settled in his own mind that General Mack would seek an outlet on this
side, to escape from the blockade with which he was menaced. The little
German princes, terrified or won over, had submitted to the yoke of
Napoleon, and accepted his alliance; the French troops had violated
neutral territories with impunity; the Russian armies were at last making
forced marches, and had just entered into Germany. At one moment Mack
appeared to discover the feeble point in the enemy's line; the left bank
of the Danube at Albech, was occupied by the divisions of Dupont and
Baraguey d'Hilliers, insufficient for resisting a violent attack. Murat,
who commanded the three divisions posted near Ulm, ordered Ney to recall
all the troops posted on the left bank. The marshal was indignant and
furious, but obeyed; but General Dupont had not accomplished his movement
when he was assailed by a corps of 25,000 Austrians, commanded by the
Archduke Ferdinand. The heroic resistance of the French troops enabled
them to fall back upon Albech with 1500 prisoners. The enemy contented
themselves with occupying the little town of Elchingen, and burning the
bridge.

Napoleon had quitted Augsburg, and Marshal Soult had just effected the
capitulation of Meiningen. The emperor ordered Ney to retake the positions
of Elchingen. The piles of the bridge had not been burnt, and under the
fire of the Austrians the platform was replaced, and the troops rushed
forward to the attack on the village. The convent which crowned the height
was taken at the bayonet's point. Always pushing the enemy before him, Ney
seized upon the heights of Michelsberg; the fire of his cannons commanded
the grand square in Ulm. The emperor in person had just arrived at the
camp.

The Archduke Ferdinand had succeeded in escaping during the night. In
spite of a frightful tempest he gained Biberach, and rejoined Wernek in
Bohemia. Murat pursued him, while Marshal Soult occupied Biberach.

Henceforth Mack found himself without resources. "The general-in-chief was
in the city," said the sixth bulletin of the grand army. "It is the
destiny of generals opposed to the emperor to be taken in town. It will be
remembered that after the splendid manoeuvres of the Brenta, the old
Field-Marshal Wurmser was made prisoner at Mantua; Melas was taken in
Alexandria; so is Mack in Ulm."

The emperor caused the Prince of Lichtenstein, major-general of the
Austrian army, to be summoned. "I desire" said he "that the place
capitulate; if I take it by assault, I shall he compelled to do what I did
at Jaffa, where the garrison was put to the sword. It is the sad law of
war. I desire that the necessity for such a frightful act should he spared
to me, as well as to the brave Austrian nation. The place is not tenable."

Mack consented to surrender if he was not succored before the 25th of
October. The rain fell in torrents. For eight days the emperor had not
taken off his boots. The Austrian prisoners were astonished to see him,
"soaked, covered with mud, as much fatigued as the lowest drummer in his
army, and even more so." An aide-de-camp repeated to Napoleon the remarks
of the enemy's officers. Napoleon replied quickly, "Your master has been
desirous of making me remember that I am a soldier," said he. "I hope he
will be convinced that the throne and the imperial purple have not made me
forget my first business."

Wernek had laid down his arms at Nordlingen; the archduke was fleeing into
Bohemia before the cavalry of Murat: the corps of Jellachich in the Tyrol,
and that of Kienmayer beyond the Inn, could send no succors to General
Mack. Urged to escape the horror of the situation, he forestalled the day
fixed for the capitulation: on the 20th of October, 1805, the garrison at
Ulm, which still counted 24,000 or 25,000 men, defiled slowly before the
conqueror. The troops were prisoners of war, the cannons and flags had
been abandoned; seven lieutenant-generals, eight generals, and the
general-in-chief, Mack, kept at the emperor's side, were present with
death in their souls at the ceremonial which proved their defeat. "In
fifteen days we have finished a campaign," said the proclamation of
Napoleon to his soldiers. "That which we proposed is completed. We have
driven the troops of the House of Austria from Bavaria, and re-established
our ally in the sovereignty of his States. That army which, with as much
ostentation as imprudence, came forward to place itself on our frontiers,
is annihilated. But what matters it to England? Her purpose is answered;
we are not at Boulogne, and the subsidy which she grants to Austria will
be neither larger nor smaller."

England resented the defeat of her ally more keenly than Napoleon
acknowledged in the bitterness of his hate. The rumor of the capitulation
of Ulm had reached London. On November 2nd, Lord Malmesbury was seated at
table beside Pitt, and spoke to him of the rumors he had heard. "Don't
believe a word of it; it is simply a lie," said Pitt, roughly, raising his
voice so as to make himself heard by those around him. "But the next day,
Sunday, the 3rd," continues Lord Malmesbury in his journal, "he entered my
house with Lord Mulgrave, about one o'clock, and they brought with them a
Dutch journal which contained at full length the capitulation of Ulm.
Neither of them knew that language, and all the officials were away. I
translated the article as well as I could, and I saw very clearly the
effect that it produced upon Pitt, in spite of the efforts he made to hide
it. This was the last time that I saw him. This visit left upon me a
profound impression, his manners and countenance were so altered; I
conceived from it, in spite of myself, the sad presentiment of the
misfortune which threatened us."

Pitt was again, for one day only, to taste for an instant of patriotic
joy, bitterly mingled with regret. In spite of the bravery to which
Napoleon did not always render justice, the French sailors, inexperienced
and badly commanded, had alone failed in the great projects confided to
them, and thwarted the hopes of the emperor. Before setting out for
Strasburg he had ordered the fleet at Brest to make several cruises, and
the fleet at Cadiz to take the soldiers it had on board to the support of
the movement of Gouvion St. Cyr in the Bay of Naples. "It might seize an
English vessel and a Russian frigate which are to be found there: it could
remain in the waters near Naples all the time necessary to do the greatest
possible harm to the enemy and intercept the convoy which he is projecting
to send to Malta. After this expedition it will return to Toulon, where it
will effect for me a powerful diversion. I estimate then that it is
necessary to do two things, first to send a special message to Admiral
Villeneuve, ordering him to effect this manoeuvre; second, as his
excessive pusillanimity will hinder him from undertaking it, you will send
Admiral Rosily to replace him. He will be the bearer of letters enjoining
upon Admiral Villeneuve to return to France, to render an account of his
conduct."

The minister of Marine was a friend of Villeneuve, and in announcing to
him the departure of Admiral Rosily, he did not make him acquainted with
his own disgrace. Leaving the consequences to chance, he had given up the
endeavor to influence the imperious will of Napoleon with regard to the
squadrons, and he dared not give instructions to Villeneuve. Villeneuve
divined what his friend hid from him. "The sailors of Paris and the
departments will be very unworthy and very foolish if they cast a stone at
me," wrote he to Decres. "They will have themselves prepared the
condemnation which will strike them later on. Let them come on board the
squadrons, and they will see against what elements they are exposed to
fight. For the rest, if the French marine, as is maintained, has only
failed in daring, the emperor will shortly be satisfied, and may count
upon the most brilliant successes."

In the middle of October, without having united with the Spanish squadron
of Carthagena, nor the vessels which he had formerly imprudently detached
under the orders of Captain Allemand, Villeneuve left Cadiz in company
with Admiral Gravina and some Spanish vessels. The latter were large and
heavy, difficult to manoeuvre, and fitted with very second-rate crews. The
squadron of battle, commanded by Admiral Villeneuve and the Spanish Vice-
Admiral Alava, numbered twenty-one vessels. The squadron of reserve,
composed of twelve vessels, had been placed under the orders of Admiral
Gravina.

The forces of Nelson numerically equalled those of Villeneuve, but they
were infinitely superior to his in the quality of the vessels and their
crews. The illustrious English admiral was ill; for several weeks he had
sought repose in England. When he offered to resume the command of the
fleet, he was impressed with the idea that he should not again see his
country. He called upon the workman entrusted with making a coffin, which
Captain Hollowell had ordered to be made from a fragment of the keel of
the French vessel L'Orient [Footnote: L'Orient, commanded by Admiral
Brueys, foundered at Aboukir.] "Engrave the history of this coffin on the
plate," said he; "I shall probably have need of it before long."  When at
length he appeared on board, the sailors cheered him as the assurance of
victory. The English admiral had carefully concealed the number of his
vessels, fearing Villeneuve might hesitate in view of his forces. On the
21st the Franco-Spanish fleet was entirely at sea, sailing in order of
battle. The English had formed in two lines; Admiral Collingwood, upon the
_Royal Sovereign_, commanded the first; Nelson, on board the _Victory_,
directed the second. He had given orders to bear down upon the French
lines in order to cut them.  "The part of the enemy's fleet that you leave
out of the fight," said he, "will come with difficulty to the assistance
of the part attacked, and you will have conquered before it arrives."  The
same signal was hoisted all over the fleet, "England expects that every
man will do his duty." Villeneuve had not less nobly announced his
intentions to his officers. "You need not wait for signals from the
admiral," were his orders; "in the confusion of a naval battle it is often
impossible to see what is going forward, or to give orders, or above all
to get them understood. Each one ought to listen only to the voice of
honor, and throw himself into the place of greatest danger. Every captain
is at his post if he is under fire." It was the misfortune of Admiral
Villeneuve in the battle of Trafalgar, that he did not adhere to his
original instructions. Gravina asked for authority to manoeuvre in an
independent manner. Villeneuve objected, and ordered him to place himself
in line. Already at midday Admiral Collingwood, separated from his column
by the superior swiftness of the _Royal Sovereign_, engaged so hotly in
battle with the _Santa Anna_, the flag-ship of the Spaniard Alava, that he
soon found himself in the midst of the enemy. "See how that brave
Collingwood hurls himself into action," said Nelson to his flag-officer;
whilst on his own deck, in the midst of the bullets that rained around
him, Collingwood cried, "Nelson would give all the world to be here." The
greater number of the Spanish captains offered a feeble resistance, and
Collingwood had already cut the line of battle. Gravina, upon the _Prince-
des-Asturies_, was surrounded by English vessels. The _Fougueux_, the
_Pluton_, the _Algesiras_, commanded by Rear-Admiral Magon, heroically
resisted overwhelming attacks. The _Redoutable_, the _Santissima-
Trinidad_, and the French flag-ship the _Bucentaure_, crowded in upon each
other, waited for the assault of the second column, which Nelson brought
against them. Like Collingwood, he had got in advance of his squadron. The
officers had begged of him to leave the vanguard to the _Temeraire_. "I am
quite willing," said Nelson, "that the _Temeraire_ should get in front if
it can;" and spreading all sail on board the _Victory_, he advanced first
against the enemy.

Already his topmast had been struck, and fifty men placed _hors de
combat_. The English admiral had given orders to separate the _Redoutable_
from the _Bucentaure_; but Captain Lucas, who commanded the former vessel,
profited by a slight breath of wind, and his bowsprit touched the stern of
the _Bucentaure_. Nelson then engaged the _Redoutable_, dashing against it
with a shock so violent that both vessels were thrown out of the line; the
_Bucentaure_ and the _Santissima-Trinidad_ were also surrounded by the
English. The struggle continued between Nelson and his courageous
adversary; the flames were breaking out every moment upon the French
vessel. "Hardy, this is too hot to last long," said Nelson to his flag-
captain. Presently a ball from the topmast of the Redoutable struck the
illustrious sailor in the loins. He fell, still supporting himself by one
hand. "Hardy, they have done for me now," said he. "No! not yet," cried
the captain, who sought to raise him up. "Yes," replied Nelson, "the spine
is hit;" and drawing his handkerchief from his pocket, he himself covered
his face and his decorations, in order to hide his fall from his crew.
"Take care!" said he, as they carried him down; "the cable of the helm is
cut." Between decks was crowded with the wounded and the dying. "Attend to
those whom you can save," said he to the surgeon; "as for me, there is
nothing to be done." Meanwhile he listened anxiously, noticing the
discharges of artillery, seeking to divine the issue of the combat. The
_Redoutable_ had been attacked by the _Temeraire_ and the Neptune at the
moment when the French sailors were preparing to board the _Victory_.
Captain Lucas was compelled to haul down his flag; of the 660 men of his
crew, 522 were _hors de combat_. The _Bucentaure_, caught by its bowsprit
in the gallery of the _Santissima-Trinidad_, was overwhelmed by the enemy,
and, held in its position by the Spanish vessel, completely dismasted.
Already the flag-officer and two lieutenants had been wounded by the side
of Admiral Villeneuve, who courted death in vain. The _Bucentaure_ was cut
down close like a pontoon. The admiral wished to pass on to another
vessel. Not a single boat was left him. When he at last pulled down his
flag he could not reply with a single cannon-shot to the English vessels
that were bent on his destruction.

Nelson still breathed. "Where is Hardy?" he repeated; "if he does not come
to me, it is because he is dead." The captain presently came down, too
much moved to utter a word. "How is it now with us?" said the dying man.
"All goes well," said Hardy; "ten vessels have already lowered their flag.
I see that the French are signalling to the vanguard to tack about. If
they come against the _Victory_ we will call for aid, and give them a
beating." "I hope none of our ships have surrendered," said Nelson. "There
is no danger," replied Hardy, who returned to his post. When he
reappeared, Nelson's eyes were closed. The captain stooped over him. "We
have fifteen prizes," said he. "I counted upon twenty," murmured the dying
man. Then rousing himself, "Anchor, Hardy, anchor; give the signal! Kiss
me ... I am satisfied. Thank God, I have done my duty." He expired,--just
forty-seven years of age.

The French Admiral Magon was still defending the _Algesiras_, attacked by
the _Tonnant_; he wanted to board her, but his deck was swept by the grape
shot of fresh assailants. Himself threatened with being boarded, the
admiral repulsed the English, axe in hand, at the head of his sailors. He
was covered with wounds. Bretonniere, become flag officer by the death of
his seniors, implored Magon to have his wounds dressed; as he yielded to
the request, a cannon-shot penetrating between decks struck him in the
chest, and he was dead. The _Algesiras_ at last hauled down her flag, at
the moment when the _Achille_, for some time already the prey of flames
which the crew had no time to extinguish, blew up with a terrific
explosion. Thus ended the battle. Admiral Gravina rallied round him eleven
vessels; a few had at an early period withdrawn from the combat. Admiral
Dumanoir, who had not succeeded in engaging his vanguard, had already
retired. The English carried off seventeen vessels, for the most part too
shattered to be of service. The unfortunate French admiral was received by
the conquerors with the honor due to his bravery. A few months later, when
released by the enemy, Villeneuve in despair was to die by his own hand in
an inn at Rennes, writing in the last moment these heartrending words:
"What a blessing that I have no child to receive my horrible inheritance,
and live under the weight of my name!"

The last orders of Nelson in dying, recommended the fleet to be anchored;
Collingwood judged otherwise, and waited till daylight. Already Admiral
Gravina had taken his vessels into the port of Cadiz, when a furious
tempest broke forth, irresistible by the ships so dreadfully damaged in
the conflict. The English had so much to do in looking after their own
safety that they could not attend to their prizes, and the officer having
charge of the _Bucentaure_ resigned it to the French commanders: the
unfortunate vessel perished on the coast, opposite Cape Diamant.

Indomitable in defeat as in battle, the officers and sailors of the
_Algesiras_ forced their guardians to surrender the vessel. They at last
escaped death, after two nights of anguish and struggle. At their side the
_Indomptable_, all hung with lanterns, its deck crowded with a despairing
crew, was forced from its anchors by the hurricane, and shattered against
the rocks. The English lost all their prizes but four; they were compelled
to sink the _Swiftsure_, captured by Admiral Ganteaume and which they were
intent on recapturing from us.

Nelson had made the request in dying, "Do not cast my poor body into the
sea." The most extraordinary honors awaited in England the remains of this
great seaman: the broken mast of his flag-ship, and one of the French
bullets whicn struck him, still attract attention in a room at Windsor.
The whole nation put on mourning; the politicians forgot the embarrassment
which he had more than once caused them, and which had drawn from one of
them the expression, "He is an heroic cockney." The splendor of his
military genius, his devotion to his country, the noble simplicity of his
character, inspired all minds with respect. The hero of the struggle
against France, he fell at the height of his glory. He had taken part in
nearly all the maritime victories which had signalized the war: the names
of Aboukir, Copenhagen, and Trafalgar render his memory glorious.

The emperor bore the blow of his defeat without showing despondency or
anger. "All this makes no change in my cruising projects," wrote he on the
18th November, to Admiral Decres; "I am even annoyed that all is not
ready. They must set out without delay. Cause all the troops that are on
board the squadron to come to me by land. They will wait my orders at the
first town in France."

Napoleon was then at Znaim in Moravia, and the date of his letter told the
story of his astonishing successes. Abandoned by the King of Prussia, with
whom the Austrians and the Russians had turned to account the violation of
his territory, Napoleon prepared to dispute Hanover with new enemies,
without modifying his general plan, and without renouncing his march upon
Vienna. The Russian army of Kutuzof alone barred his way; but already it
was commencing a clever movement of retreat, never fighting without
necessity, firm and resolute, however, when attacked. The Russians passed
the Danube at Krems, destroying the bridges behind them. They committed
great ravages during their march, and had gained the ill-will of the
Austrian corps who went with them, and who fell back upon Vienna. With
great imprudence General Mortier had been detached on the left bank of the
Danube, where he was attacked by the larger portion of the Russian army at
the very moment when he found himself separated from the division of
Dupont. In spite of the heroic resistance of the French soldiers the
danger was imminent. Mortier was urged to take to a boat, and not deliver
to the enemy a marshal of France. "Who would leave such brave men?"
replies Mortier; "we will be saved or perish together." A road lay open
across the ground occupied by the Russians, to the village of Dernstein;
the soldiers of General Dupont entered it at the same time from another
direction. They hastened by forced marches to the succor of the marshal.
Napoleon's anger fell heavily on Murat, whom he accused, not without
reason, of vainglorious levity. Already the brilliant general of cavalry
had presented himself at the gates of Vienna. The Emperor Francis had not
wished to expose his capital to the horrors of a siege; when he saw the
proposals for an armistice rejected which he had addressed to Napoleon
(November 8th) he prepared to quit Vienna. Less menacing than at Ulm, the
conqueror no longer invited the Emperor of Austria to meditate upon the
fall of empires: he reminded him that the present war was for Russia only
a fancy war; "for your Majesty and myself it is a war that absorbs all our
means, all our sentiments, all our faculties." Fifteen days later Napoleon
entered the palace of Schoenbrunn. Thanks to a ruse, more daring than
fair, Murat had succeeded in carrying the bridges of Vienna at the moment
when the workmen were preparing to blow them up; he was on the march for
Moravia, pursuing the Russians, with the co-operation of Mortier and
Bernadotte.

By his superior ability Napoleon struck his enemies at once with terror
and astonishment, paralyzing their forces by their anxiety at the
unforeseen blows he dealt them. The Archduke Charles had long remained
immovable on the Adige; when he at last commenced his retreat he marched
to the assistance of the threatened empire, and was pursued by Massena.
The marshal attacked the archduke in his camp of Caldiero after having
seized Verona by night, and had fought him on the shores of the
Tagliamento; he was now approaching Marmont, who occupied the Styrian
Alps. The Archduke Charles rallying the remains of the army of his
brother, the Archduke John, was engaged with him in Hungary, in order to
rejoin the Russian army in Moravia. Before the two masses of the enemy
could reach Bruenn, and in spite of the clever manoeuvre of Kutuzoff, who
succeeded before Hollabrunn in concealing from Murat and Lannes the great
bulk of his army, the French were, on the 19th of November, in possession
of the capital of Moravia. Napoleon entered it next day.

The Emperor Alexander joined the Emperor of Austria at Olmuetz. Proud of
his diplomatic successes at Berlin, and convinced that his visit to the
King of Prussia had alone decided him to attach himself to the coalition,
he nursed a military ambition, assiduously encouraged by his young
favorites. The Emperor Francis sent Stadion and Giulay to Bruenn,
commissioned to treat for conditions of peace. Napoleon referred them to
Talleyrand, whom he had sent to Vienna. "They know the state of the
question by what I have said to them in a few words," wrote he; "but you
have to treat it smoothly and at full length. My intention is absolutely
to have the State of Venice, and to reunite it to the kingdom of Italy. I
have good cause to think that the court of Vienna has taken its resolution
on that point."

Napoleon was wishing for peace--immediate, glorious, and fruitful. He had
vainly sought to separate the Austrians from the Russians; he could not
doubt the hostile intentions of Prussia. The very explanations that
Haugwitz had just given him as to the motives for the entry of a Prussian
army into Hanover foreshadowed plenty of approaching hostilities: a
brilliant victory, forestalling the union of the German and Russian
forces, became necessary. For a few days the soldiers rested, recruiting
their forces after their long and perilous marches. The impatience of the
Emperor Alexander had already carried the general quarters of the allies
to Wischau. It was there that General Savary presented himself, intrusted
with aimless negotiations, which gave him opportunity to examine the
condition of the Austro-Russian army. Prince Dolgorouki, sent from Bruenn
with the reply of the Emperor Alexander, was received at the advanced
posts. The young favorite was thoughtless and proud. "What do they want of
me?" said Napoleon. "Why does the Emperor Alexander make war on me? Is he
jealous of the growth of France? Well, let him extend his frontiers at the
expense of his neighbors on the side of Turkey, and all quarrels will be
at an end." Dolgorouki protested the disinterestedness of his master. "The
emperor wishes," said he "for the independence of Europe, the evacuation
of Holland and Switzerland, an indemnity for the King of Sardinia, and
barriers round France for the protection of its neighbors." Napoleon broke
out in a passion: "I will never yield anything in Italy, even if the
Russians should camp upon the heights of Montmartre." He sent back the
negotiator, who had perceived the movements of troops falling back around
Bruenn. Ignorant of the great principle which directed the campaigns of
Napoleon--"divide in order to subsist, concentrate in order to fight"--he
thought he divined the preparations for retreat. The ardor of the Russian
army grew more intense. It advanced towards the position long studied by
Napoleon, and which he destined for his field of battle. In accordance
with the plan of the Austrian general, Weirother, who was in great favor
with the Emperor Alexander, the allies had resolved to turn the right of
the French army, in order to cut off the road to Vienna by isolating
numerous corps dispersed in Austria and Styria. Already the two emperors
and their staff-officers occupied the castle and village of Austerlitz. On
December 1st, 1805, the allies established themselves upon the plateau of
Platzen; Napoleon had by design left it free. Divining, with the sure
instinct of superior genius, the manoeuvres of his enemy, he had cleverly
drawn them into the snare. His proclamation to the troops announced all
the plan of the battle.

"Soldiers," said he, "the Russian army presents itself before you to
avenge the Austrian army of Ulm. These are the same battalions which you
have beaten at Hollabrunn, and that you have constantly pursued to this
place.

"The positions that we occupy are formidable, and whilst they march to
turn my right they will present me their flank.

"Soldiers, I will myself direct your battalions. I will keep myself away
from the firing if, with your accustomed bravery, you carry disorder and
confusion into the enemy's ranks. But if the victory were for a moment
uncertain you would see your emperor expose himself to the brunt of the
attack; for this victory will finish the campaign, and we shall be able to
resume our winter quarters, where we shall be joined by new armies which
are forming in France. Then the peace I shall make will be worthy of my
people, of you, and of me."

It was late, and the emperor had just dismissed Haugwitz, whom he had sent
back to Vienna. "I shall see you again if I am not carried off to-morrow
by a cannon-ball. It will be time then to understand each other." Napoleon
went out to visit the soldiers at the bivouac. A great ardor animated the
troops; it was remembered that the 2nd December was the anniversary of the
coronation of the emperor. The soldiers gathered up the straw upon which
they were stretched, making it into bundles, which they lit at the end of
poles; a sudden illumination lit up the camp. "Be assured," said an old
grenadier, advancing towards the chief who had so many times led his
comrades to victory, "I promise thee that we will bring thee to-morrow the
flags and the cannon of the Russian army to signalize the anniversary of
the 2nd December."

The fires were extinguished, and the enemies thought they saw in it the
indication of a nocturnal retreat. Gathered around a map, the allied
generals listened to Weirother, who developed his plan of battle "with a
boasting air, which displayed in him a clear persuasion of his own merit
and of our incapacity," says General Langeron, a French emigrant officer
in the Russian army. Old Kutuzof slept. "If Bonaparte had been able to
attack us, he would have done it to-day," was the assurance of Weirother.
"You do not then think him strong?" "If he has 40,000 men, it is all." "He
has extinguished his fires; a good deal of noise comes from his camp." "He
is either retreating or else he is changing his position; if he takes that
of Turas, he will spare us a good deal of trouble, and the dispositions of
the troops will remain the same." The day was scarcely begun (2nd
December, 1805) when the allied army was on the march. The noise of the
preparations in the camps had reassured Napoleon as to the direction the
enemy would take. On the previous evening, whilst listening to the learned
lecture of Weirother, Prince Bagration, formerly the heroic defender of
the positions of Hollabrunn, had uttered under his long moustache, "The
battle is lost!" In seeing his enemies advance towards the right, as he
had himself announced to his soldiers, Napoleon could not withhold the
signs of his joy. He held the victory in his own hands. He waited
patiently until his enemies had deployed their line. The sun had just
risen, shining through the midst of a fog, which it dispersed with its
brilliant rays. The plateau of Pratzen was in part abandoned; the emperor
gave the signal, and the whole French army moved forward, forming an
enormous and compact mass, eager to hurl itself on the enemy. "See how the
French climb the height without staying to respond to our fire!" said
Prince Czartoriski, who watched the battle near the two emperors. He was
still speaking when already the allied columns, thrown out one after
another on the slope, found themselves arrested in their movement and
separated from the two wings of the army. Old Kutuzof, badly wounded,
strove in vain to send aid to the disordered centre. "See, see, a mortal
wound!" he cried, extending his arms towards Pratzen.

During this time the right, commanded by Marshal Davout, disputed with the
Russians the line of Goldbach, extricating with the division of Friant
General Legrand for a moment outflanked. Murat and Lannes attacked on the
left eighty-two Russian and Austrian squadrons, under the orders of Prince
John of Lichtenstein. The infantry advanced in quick time against the
Uhlans sent against them, soon dispersed by the light cavalry of
Kellermann. The Russian batteries drowned the sound of all the drums of
the first regiment of the division of Cafarelli. General Valhubert had his
thigh fractured, and his soldiers wished to carry him away. "Remain at
your posts," said he calmly. "I know well how to die alone. We must not
for one man lose six." The Russian guard at last turned towards Pratzen. A
French battalion, which had let itself be drawn in pursuit, was in danger.
Napoleon, stationed at the centre with the infantry of the guard, and the
corps of Bernadotte, perceived the disorder. "Take there the Mamelukes and
the chasseurs of the guard," said he to Rapp. When the latter returned to
the emperor he was wounded, but the Russians, were repulsed, and Prince
Repnin prisoner. A Russian division, isolated at Sokolnitz, had just
surrendered; two columns had been thrown back beyond the marshes. The
bridge broke under the weight of the artillery. The cold was intense; and
the soldiers thought to save themselves by springing upon the ice, but
already the French cannon-balls were breaking it under their feet. With
cries of despair they were engulfed in the waters of the lake. Generals
Doctoroff and Keinmayer effected their painful retreat, under the fire of
our batteries, by a narrow embankment, separating the two lakes of Melnitz
and Falnitz. Only the corps of Prince Bagration still kept in order of
battle, Marshal Lannes having restrained his troops which were rushing
forward in pursuit.

The day had come to a close; the two emperors had abandoned the terrible
battle-field. Behind them resounded the French shouts of victory; around
them, before them, they heard the imprecations of the fugitives, the
groans of the wounded, unable any longer to keep on their way, the
complaints of the peasants ravaged by the furious soldiery. They arrived
thus at the imperial castle of Halitsch, where they found themselves next
day pressed by Marshal Davout. Austerlitz became the headquarters of the
conqueror.

Before even having reached a place of safety the Emperor Francis, gloomy
and calm, had in his own mind taken his decision. Prince John of
Lichtenstein was sent to ask from Napoleon an armistice and an interview.
The conqueror was still traversing the field of battle, attentive in
procuring for his soldiers the care that their bravery merited. "The
interview, when the emperor will, the day after to-morrow, at our advanced
posts," said he to the Austrian envoy; "until then, no armistice." Whilst
Napoleon was speaking to his army and to Europe, Marshal Lannes and the
cavalry were already pursuing the vanquished enemy.

"Soldiers, I am satisfied with you," said he in his proclamation of the
3rd December, 1805. "You have upon the day of Austerlitz justified all
that I expected from your intrepidity. An army of 100,000 men, commanded
by the Emperors of Russia and Austria, has been in less than four hours
either cut up or dispersed, and what escaped from your steel is drowned in
the lakes. Forty flags, the standards of the Imperial Guard of Russia, a
hundred and twenty pieces of cannon, twenty generals, and more than thirty
thousand prisoners are the results of this ever-memorable day. In three
months this third coalition has been vanquished and dissolved. Soldiers,
when all that is necessary in order to assure the happiness and prosperity
of France shall be accomplished, I will lead you back into France; there
you will be the object of my most tender solicitude. My people will see
you again with joy, and it will suffice for you to say, 'I was at the
battle of Austerlitz,' to receive the reply, 'There is a hero!'"

The army rested, intoxicated with pride and joy. The losses, considerable
in themselves, were small in comparison with the disasters inflicted on
the coalition; the arrogance of the Russians had undergone a most painful
check; the youthful illusions of their Czar cruelly dissipated. The
Emperor of Austria informed him of his pacific intentions, and Alexander
hastened to release his allies from their engagements; he was in a hurry
to retire and disengage himself from a war which could procure for him no
other advantage than a vain hope of glory.

Napoleon repeated his former sentiments to the Emperor Francis when he met
him next day at the mill of Paleny, between Nasiedlowitz and Urschitz. "Do
not confound your cause with that of the Emperor Alexander. Russia can to-
day only make a fancy war (_une guerre de fantaisie_). Conquered, she
retires into her deserts, and you pay all the costs of the war." Then,
gracefully returning to the courtesies of society, the all-powerful
conqueror made excuses for the poor place in which he was compelled to
receive his illustrious host.

"These are the palaces," said he, "which your Majesty has compelled me to
inhabit for three months past." "Your visit has succeeded sufficiently
well for you to have no right to bear me any grudge," replied the Emperor
Francis. The two monarchs embraced, and the armistice was concluded. The
Russians were to retire by stages, and the seat of negotiations was fixed
at Bruenn. A formal order from Napoleon was necessary in order to stop the
march of Marshal Davout in pursuit of the Russian army. General Savary was
entrusted with this order; he brought to the Czar the conditions of the
armistice. "I am satisfied, since my ally is," replied Alexander, and he
allowed to escape from him the expression of an admiration which was long
to exercise over him a profound influence. "Your master has shown himself
very great," said he to Savary.

Napoleon left Talleyrand at Bruenn exchanging arguments with Stadion and
Giulay; he himself repaired to Vienna, where Haugwitz awaited him.
Imperfectly instructed as to the alliance concluded on the 3rd of November
at Potsdam between the King of Prussia and the allies, he knew enough of
it to break forth in violent reproaches against the perfidy of the
Prussian Government. And as Haugwitz made excuses and protests, the
Emperor proposed to him all of a sudden that union with France which had
been so often discussed. Hanover was to be the price of it. Prussia was
uneasy, frightened, divided in her councils, but she accepted; the
Marquisate of Anspach, the Principality of Neufchatel, and the Duchy of
Cleves were ceded to France, and the treaty was signed at Schoenbrunn on
the 15th December, 1805. Prussia recognized all the conquests of Napoleon;
the two sovereigns reciprocally guaranteed each other's possessions.

Talleyrand had just quitted Bruenn, which had become unhealthy through the
overcrowding of the hospitals; the negotiations were being carried on at
Presburg. In spite of the wise and prudent counsels of his minister,
Napoleon was resolved on exacting from Austria still more than he had
declared before Ulm. The defection of Prussia had thoroughly disheartened
the plenipotentiaries of the Emperor Francis. The French armies
concentrated afresh around Vienna. Napoleon was doubly imperious,
threatening to recommence the war; the negotiators at length yielded to
necessity. On the 26th of December, 1805, peace was signed at Presburg
between France and Austria. The Emperor Francis abandoned to the conqueror
Venice, Istria, Frioul, and Dalmatia, which were to become part of the
kingdom of Italy; the Tyrol and Vorarlberg, of which Napoleon made a
present to Bavaria; the outlying territories of Suabia, handed over to
Wurtemberg; the Brisgau, Ortenau, and the city of Constance, which were
added to the territories of the Elector of Baden. Napoleon ceded to the
Emperor the Principality of Wurtzburg for one of the archdukes; the
secularization of the Teutonic Order was agreed upon to the profit of
Austria; the latter power was to pay a war indemnity of forty millions.

The small German princes, who beheld their possessions increased and their
titles made more glorious by the powerful hand of the conqueror, were in
their turn to pay the price of the terrible alliance which weighed upon
them. The new Kings of Wurtemberg and Bavaria found themselves obliged to
give their daughters to Jerome Bonaparte and to Eugene de Beauharnais; the
marriage that the former had contracted in America, and the betrothal of
the Princess of Bavaria to the son of the Elector of Baden, weighed
nothing in the balance in comparison with the iron will of Napoleon.
Intimidated and restless, the Elector of Baden himself broke off the
marriage of his son, accepting for him the hand of Stephani de
Beauharnais, niece of the Empress Josephine. Before taking the road to
France, the Emperor was present at the marriage of the vice-King of Italy
with the princess whose portrait he had seen a few days before upon a
porcelain cup. Everything had yielded to his power,--sovereigns, families,
and hearts. Russia and England alone remained openly enemies. "Rest
awhile, my children," said the Archduke Charles in disbanding his army;
"rest awhile, until we begin again."

I have been desirous of conducting General Bonaparte, now become the
Emperor Napoleon, up to the popular summit of his glory. He had already
tainted it by many acts of violence, and by an exclusive devotion to
personal ends, in defiance of justice and liberty. Henceforward and under
the disastrous inspirations of a mad ambition, victory itself was to
become a fatal seduction which by inevitable degrees draws us on to ruin.
Great and terrible lesson of Divine justice on the morality of nations!
Starting from the violation of the peace of Amiens, and in spite of the
glory of the sun of Austerlitz, the history of the glory of the conqueror
includes in germ the history of his fall, and of the ever-increasing
misfortunes of France.




CHAPTER IX.

GLORY AND CONQUEST (1805-1808).


Guizot has said at the commencement of his essay on Washington: "There is
a spectacle as fine as that of a virtuous man struggling with adversity,
and not less salutary to contemplate; it is the spectacle of a virtuous
man at the head of a good cause and assuring his triumph."

There is a spectacle, sorrowful and sad, also salutary to contemplate in
its austere teachings: it is that of a man of genius bearing along in his
train an enthusiastic nation, and squandering all the living forces of his
genius and his country in the service of a senseless ambition, as fatal to
the sovereign as the people, both foolishly dragged along by a vision of
glory towards injustices and crimes not at first foreseen. Such is the
spectacle offered to us by the history of the Emperor Napoleon, and of
France, after the battle of Austerlitz and the Peace of Presburg.

For the moment a stupor seemed to oppress the whole of Europe. Prussia,
humiliated and indignant, had, however, just ratified the treaty of
Schoenbrunn; Austria was panting and conquered; England had lost her great
minister: William Pitt died 23rd January, 1806, struck to the heart in his
patriotic passion, by the new victory of the conqueror whom he dreaded for
the liberty of the world. "Roll up this map of Europe," said he when the
news was brought to him as he lay dying in his little house at Putney, "in
ten years time there will be no further need for it." Already his rival
had succeeded him in office, and Fox did not yet foresee that he would
presently be inevitably brought to adopt the policy of resistance to the
long increasing power of Napoleon. He was then making cordial advances
towards him. The Emperor Alexander had not disarmed, but the appeals to
him from the Court of Naples found him immovable. Already the Bourbons
were trembling on the thrones they still occupied.

Napoleon announced it in his thirty-seventh bulletin, dated from Vienna.
"General Saint Cyr marches by long stages towards Naples, to punish the
treason of the queen, and hurl from the throne this criminal woman who has
violated everything that is held sacred among men." Intercession was
attempted for her with the Emperor. He replied, "Ought hostilities to
recommence, and the nation to sustain a war of thirty years, a perfidy so
atrocious cannot he pardoned."

In this struggle between violence and treason the issue could not remain
long doubtful. In the name of Joseph Bonaparte, Massena commanded the army
which came to take possession of the kingdom of Naples. For the second
time, King Ferdinand and Queen Charlotte took refuge in Sicily. "It is the
interest of France to make sure of the kingdom of Naples by a useful and
easy conquest," the _Moniteur_ had formerly declared, in publishing the
treaty of neutrality agreed to by the House of Bourbon. The work was
accomplished; on the 30th of March, Joseph Bonaparte was proclaimed King
of the Two Sicilies. The city of Gaeta alone was to prolong its
resistance.

Two months later, with the appearance of the national consent, Napoleon
elevated his brother Louis to the throne which he had instituted for him
in Holland. The prince had been ordered to protect this country,
threatened by the Anglo-Swedish army. After the battle of Austerlitz he
presented himself before the Emperor. "Why have you quitted Holland?"
demanded the latter brusquely, "we saw you there with pleasure, and you
should have remained there." "Sounds of a monarchical transformation
circulate in Holland," replied Louis Bonaparte, "they are not agreeable to
this free and worthy nation, nor are they any more pleasant to me."

Napoleon broke out into a passion. "He gave me to understand," says Prince
Louis in his _Memoires_, "that if I had not been more consulted over this
affair, it was for a subject only to obey." At the same time the Emperor
wrote to Talleyrand, "I have seen this evening Admiral Verhuell. In two
words hear what this question amounts to. Holland is without executive
power. It requires that power, and I will give it Prince Louis. In place
of the Grand Pensionary Schimmelpenninck, there shall be a king. The
argument is that without that I shall not be able to give peace a firm
settlement. Prince Louis must make his entry into Amsterdam within twenty
days." The accession to the throne of the new monarch was celebrated on
the 5th June, 1806.

Napoleon disposed at his will of crowns and appanages, elevating or
dethroning kings, magnificently dowering the companions of his military
life and the servants of his policy. He had at the same time conceived the
idea of forming beyond his States a barrier which should separate them
from the great German powers, always secretly hostile. The dukes and the
electors whom he had made kings, the princes whose domains he had
aggrandized, were to unite in a confederation for the protection of the
new State of Germany. The seat of government was established at Frankfort.
The town of Ratisbon, formerly honored by the assemblies of the Diet, had
been ceded to Bavaria. The Diet was officially informed that Prussia
received a decisive authorization to form in its turn a confederation of
the North. Most of the German States having been forcibly taken from him,
Francis II voluntarily resigned the vain title he still bore; he ceased to
be Emperor of Germany, and became Emperor of Austria.

Meanwhile the overtures of Fox towards France had until now remained
without result. England refused to treat without Russia, whom the Emperor
would not admit to a common negotiation. "Regrets are useless," wrote Fox
to Talleyrand on the 10th April, 1806; "but if the great man whom you
serve, could see with the same eye with which I behold it, the true glory
which would accrue to him from a moderate and just peace, what good
fortune would not result from it for France and for all Europe?"

In the depth of his soul and in his secret thoughts Napoleon now desired
peace. Amongst the English prisoners detained in France after the rupture
of the treaty of Amiens, a few had been exchanged since the advent of Fox
to the ministry; one of them, Lord Yarmouth (afterwards Lord Hertford),
elegant and dissipated, had been commissioned by his government to talk
over familiarly with Talleyrand the chances of peace that existed between
the two nations. Napoleon had conceded Hanover to Prussia as the price of
peace; he was ready to retrocede it to England, free to indemnify Prussia
at the expense of Germany. The negotiation was carried on secretly, the
negotiators meeting as men of the world rather than diplomats. Oubril, an
envoy from the Emperor Alexander, had just arrived in Paris, charged with
reassuring France on the subject of a circumstance which had recently
taken place in Dalmatia. The Russian admiral, Sinavin, animated with
unseasonable zeal, with the aid of the Montenegrins had seized the mouths
of the Cattaro. The Austrian officers, appointed to hand over the
territory to the French, had not opposed any resistance to the Russians.
The two Emperors of Austria and Russia hastened to disavow their agents;
on 20th July Oubril signed with France a separate peace.

This was failing in loyalty towards England, who had refused to treat
without its ally. The Emperor of Russia perceived it; he had thought the
cabinet of London more inclined to conclude peace at any cost. The health
of Fox was giving way, and his successors were likely to be less favorable
to the demands of Napoleon. Alexander declared that he would not ratify
the treaty negotiated by Oubril. This news arrived at Paris on the 3rd of
September, 1806. On the 13th of the same month Fox expired in London,
amiable and beloved to the last day of his life; ardently devoted to his
friends, to freedom, to all noble and generous causes; a great orator and
a great debater; feeble in his political conduct even in opposition,
incapable of governing and of sustaining the great struggle which for so
long agitated Europe. At his death the party of resistance resumed power
in England. In Germany the secret of the negotiations with regard to
Hanover had transpired; the disregard of sworn faith which Prussia had
more than once practised during the war fell back upon herself with
crushing weight. Napoleon thought nothing of his engagements; he had
detached King Frederick William from his natural allies, and showed
himself disposed to snatch from him the price of his compliance. The
nation and the king had with great difficulty accepted the treaty
negotiated by Haugwitz; indignation broke forth on every side. It had
already betrayed itself for a few weeks past by numerous and violent
pamphlets against the Emperor of the French and against the armies of
occupation. Napoleon responded to them by a despotic and cruel act which
was to bear bitter fruits. On the 5th August he wrote to Marshal
Berthier:--

"My cousin,--I imagine that you have had the booksellers of Augsburg and
Nuremberg arrested. My intention is that they should be indicted before a
military tribunal, and shot within twenty-four hours. It is no ordinary
crime to spread libels in places where the French army is stationed, in
order to excite the inhabitants against it. It is a crime of high treason.
The sentence shall set forth that wherever there is an army, the duty of
the commander being to watch over its safety, such and such individuals
convicted of having attempted to stir up the inhabitants of Suabia against
the French army are condemned to death. You will place the criminals in
the midst of a division, and you will appoint seven colonels to try them.
You will have the sentence published throughout Germany." Only one
bookseller of Nuremberg, named Palm, was arrested, and suffered the
terrible sentence. Berthier never forgot the cruel necessity to which he
had been subjected in ordering this odious procedure. "He makes us condemn
under the penalty of being condemned ourselves," said General Hullin, in
reporting the murder of the Duc d'Enghien.

The growing irritation of Germany only awaited an excuse for bursting
forth. A despatch of the Marquis of Lucchesini, then minister of Prussia
at Paris, gave the protracted irritation of the court of Berlin its
opportunity. According to the information received from this diplomatist,
the French government was putting pressure upon the German Princes of the
North, to prevent them from entering the Confederation projected by
Prussia. A letter from King Frederick William and a diplomatic note
demanded peremptorily the evacuation of Germany by the French troops, and
liberty of action for the German Princes. At the same time the armaments
of Prussia, for a long time prepared in secret, became public. Already the
Emperor Napoleon had quitted Paris, without Laforest, his minister at
Berlin, having been authorized to reply to the demands of the Prussians.
"We have been deceived three times," said Napoleon. "We must have facts;
let Prussia disarm, and France will re-cross the Rhine, and not before."
It was to the Senate and to the soldiers alone that Napoleon now addressed
the explanation of his aggressive movements against Prussia.

"Soldiers, the order for your re-entry into France was issued; you had
already approached it by several marches. Triumphant fetes awaited you,
and the preparations to receive you had already commenced in the capital.

"But whilst we abandon ourselves to this too confident security, new plots
are hatched under the mask of friendship and alliance. War cries have made
themselves heard from Berlin. For two months we have been provoked more
and more every day.

"The same faction, the same spirit of giddiness which, under favor of our
internal dissensions, conducted the Prussians fourteen years ago into the
midst of the plains of Champagne, rules in their councils; if it is no
longer Paris that they wish to burn and overthrow to its foundations, it
is to-day their flag that they wish to plant in the capitals of our
allies; it is Saxony that they wish to compel by a shameful transaction to
renounce its independence by ranging it in the number of their provinces;
it is, in fine, your laurels that they wish to snatch from your foreheads.
They wish us to evacuate Germany at the sight of their arms. Fools! What?
Shall we then have braved the seasons, the seas, the deserts, conquered
Europe several times allied against us, carried our glory from the east to
the west, in order to return to-day into our country like fugitives who
have abandoned their allies; to hear it said that the French eagle fled in
fear at the mere sight of the Prussian armies?"

It was, in fact, a fourth continental coalition which was beginning to be
formed against France. Prussia alone was then on the scene: long prudent
and circumspect in its conduct, it had been drawn in this time, in spite
of its weakness, by irresistible anger and indignation. Napoleon did not
dread the war. "I have nearly 150,000 men in Germany," wrote he to King
Joseph; "with them I can subdue Vienna, Berlin, St. Petersburg." The reply
that he at last deigned to address to the King of Prussia from the camp of
Gera breathed the most haughty confidence. A few engagements had already
taken place. "Monsieur my brother," wrote Napoleon to Frederick William,
"I only received on the 7th the letter of your Majesty of the 25th
September. I am vexed that you have been induced to sign this sort of
thing. You appoint a meeting with me on the 8th. Like a good knight, I
keep faith with you, I am in the middle of Saxony; believe me I have such
forces with me that all your forces cannot long prevent my victory. But
why spill so much blood? To what end? Sire, I have been your friend for
six years past. I do not wish to profit by that species of giddiness which
animates your council, and has caused you to commit political errors, at
which Europe is still astonished, and military errors of such an enormity
that Europe will soon ring with them. If in your note you had asked
possible things from me, I would have granted them to you; you have asked
for my dishonor: you ought to have been certain of my reply. War is then
made between us, the alliance broken forever; but why make our subjects
kill each other? Sire, your Majesty will be conquered; you will have
compromised the peace of your days and the existence of your subjects
without the shadow of a pretext. I have nothing to gain against your
Majesty. I want nothing, and I have wanted nothing from you. The present
war is an impolitic war."

Napoleon had well estimated the forces of the enemy he was preparing to
crush; he had concentrated under his hand a power superior to all the
resources of the Prussians, whose soldiers were courageous and well
disciplined, but for a long time little exercised in war. Napoleon's
precautions were taken at every point of his vast territory; he had called
new troops under his banners; everywhere he held in check his enemies,
either secret or avowed. At one moment he thought of tendering his hand to
Austria; he wrote to his ambassador at Vienna, M. de la Rochefoucauld: "My
position and my forces are such that I have no cause to fear any one; but
at length all these efforts are burdensome to my people. Of the three
powers, Russia, Prussia, and Austria, I must have one for an ally. In any
case one cannot rely on Prussia: there remains only Austria. The navy of
France formerly flourished through the benefit resulting from an alliance
with Austria. This power also feels the need of remaining quiet, a
sentiment that I partake with all my heart. The house of Austria having
often caused hints to be thrown out to me, the present moment, if it knows
how to profit by it, is the most favorable."

Austria remained immovable, the uneasy spectator of the events that were
preparing. The Russians had not quitted their positions on the Vistula;
already the Prussians had invaded Saxony, compelling that little power to
furnish them with an army of 20,000 men. The old Duke of Brunswick
collected at the same time the contingent of the Elector of Hesse-Cassel,
who had sought in vain to maintain his neutrality. The French army
occupied Franconia; it was across these mountainous defiles that Napoleon
had resolved to march against the enemy divided into two corps, under the
orders of the Duke of Brunswick and the Prince of Hohenlohe. Already
Marshals Davout and Bernadotte were established upon the left bank of the
Saale. The troops of the Prince of Hohenlohe occupied the road from Weimar
to Jena. Marshal Lannes had taken possession of the heights which
commanded this last town. On the morning of the 14th October, the combat
was opened against the corps of the Prince of Hohenlohe; superior in
number to the troops employed by the Emperor Napoleon, but surprised by an
attack of which they had not foreseen the vigor, the Prussian soldiers
were soon thrown into a panic terror. The two wings of the French army,
commanded by Soult and Augereau, already enveloped the enemy when Napoleon
sent forward the guard and the reserves. The centre of the Prussian army
fell back before this enormous mass; the retreat changed into a rout. At
the same moment Marshal Biechel arrived by forced marches to the aid of
the Prince of Hohenlohe; he brought 20,000 men, but in vain did he
struggle to rally and curb the fugitives; he was drawn along and repulsed
by the conquered as well as by the conquerors. French and Germans entered
at the same time into Weimar; already the crowd of prisoners hindered the
march of the victorious army.

At the same hour on the same day, with forces less considerable, Marshal
Davout struggled alone, near Auerstadt, against the enemy's corps,
commanded by the Duke of Brunswick and by King Frederick William. Marshal
Bernadotte had quitted him, obeying literally the orders of the Emperor,
who had enjoined him to occupy Hamburg, little careful, perhaps, of the
danger to which he exposed his companion-in-arms. Davout cut the road of
the Prussians in the defile of Koesen. The Duke of Brunswick, marching
himself at the head of his troops, rushed upon him, violently attacking
our immovable squares under a murderous fire. The old general fell,
mortally wounded; the effort of Prince William and the king remained
equally fruitless. Profiting by the trouble caused by his resistance,
Davout threw his troops forward, and seized the heights of Eckartsberg;
there, protected by his artillery, he could still defend his positions.
The King of Prussia gave orders to retire on Weimar; he counted on joining
the corps of the Prince of Hohenlohe, in order to renew the attack with
all his forces. He had already travelled over half the distance without
being harassed by Marshal Davout, whose troops were exhausted; but
Bernadotte barred his passage; the confused waves of fugitives from Jena
precipitated themselves into the ranks of their friends and compatriots.
Behind them appeared the French soldiers, ardent in pursuit. The king
turned off hastily, by way of Sommerda; the darkness was increasing, and
the disorder increased with the darkness. In a single day the entire
Prussian army was destroyed. "They can do nothing but gather up the
_debris_," said Napoleon.

He took care to crush everywhere these sad remains of a generous and
patriotic effort. Whilst his lieutenants were pursuing the wandering
detachments of the Prussian army, the emperor imposed upon the nation he
had just conquered a contribution of a hundred and fifty-nine millions. He
sent the elector of Hesse to Metz, announcing in a letter to Marshal
Mortier his intention that the house of Hesse should cease to reign, and
would be effaced from the number of the powers. The Saxon prisoners, on
the contrary, were sent back free to their sovereign. Everywhere the
English merchandise found in the ports and warehouses was confiscated for
the profit of the army. The Prussian commerce was ruined like the state.

Napoleon advanced upon Berlin; the King of Prussia sought to reach
Magdeburg, constantly accompanied by the queen, whose warlike and
patriotic ardor excited the rage and the insults of the emperor. "The
Queen of Prussia has been many times in view of our posts," says the 8th
bulletin of the grand army; "she is in continual fear and alarms. Last
night she passed her regiment in review; she continually excited the king
and the generals; she craves for blood. Blood the most precious has
flowed; the most distinguished generals are those upon whom the first
blows have fallen." Gross insinuations aggravated these rude allusions.
"All the Prussians assign the misfortunes of Prussia to the journey of the
Emperor Alexander. The change which has since then taken place in the
spirit of the queen, who, from being a timid and modest woman, occupied
with her home affairs, has become turbulent and warlike, is quite a sudden
revolution. She desired all at once to have a regiment, to go to the
Council, and she has led the monarchy so well that in a few days she has
conducted it to the edge of a precipice."

A few battles finally opened everywhere the roads to the conqueror;
Magdeburg was besieged, Erfurt had surrendered, Marshal Davout occupied
Wittemberg, and Lannes occupied Dessau; Bernadotte had thrown himself
against Halle, still defended by Prince Eugene of Wurtemberg. The
resistance was severe; when the emperor came to visit the battle-field, he
recognized among the corpses still scattered upon the ground the uniforms
of the 32nd half-brigade. "Still the 32nd!" cried he. "I have had so many
of them killed in Egypt, in Italy, everywhere, that there ought to be no
more of them." It was with the same accent of indifferent and cold
reflection that he was to say much later, in contemplating his sleeping
son, "How long it takes to make a man! I have, however, seen fourteen of
them cut off by a cannon-shot!"

Napoleon was at Potsdam, in the palace of the great Frederick, the
military genius of this prince had for a long time excited his admiration.
"At Potsdam has been found the sword of the great Frederick, the sash of a
general, which he carried in the Seven Years' War, and his cordon of the
Black Eagle," says the 19th bulletin.

The emperor seized upon these trophies with eagerness, and said, "I prefer
these to twenty millions." Then, thinking a moment to whom he should
confide this precious trust, "I will send it," said he, "to my old
soldiers of the Hanoverian War; I will make a present of it to the
governor of the Invalides; it shall remain at the Hotel."

On the 27th, for the first time in his life, Napoleon entered in triumph
into an enemy's capital. For two days Berlin had been occupied by Marshal
Davout. A gloomy sadness rested on all faces, but order was everywhere
respected. The Prussian nation had valiantly defended itself, and there
was no shame mingled with its sorrow. The dying Duke of Brunswick
recommended his subjects to the emperor. The latter, in a passion,
recalled bitterly to the old general the wild manifesto published in his
name at the commencement of the French Revolution. "If I had the city of
Brunswick demolished, and if I did not leave of it one stone on another,
what would your prince say? Does not the law of retaliation permit me to
do to Brunswick what he wanted to do to my capital? It is the Duke of
Brunswick whom France and Prussia can accuse of being the sole cause of
this war. Tell the general that he will be treated with all the respect
due to a Prussian officer, but that in a Prussian general I cannot
recognize a sovereign."

The same harshness characterized the reception by the emperor of the great
Prussian nobles. "Do not come into my presence," said he to the Prince of
Hatzfeld, who brought before him the civil magistrates of Berlin. "I have
no need of your services; retire to your own estates." A letter from the
prince to the King of Prussia, giving an account of the entry of the
emperor, was intercepted. Napoleon saw treason in this communication, and
a decree was immediately sent to Marshal Davout. "The Prince of Hatzfeld,
who presented himself at the head of the deputation from Berlin, as
entrusted with the civil government of this capital, and who,
notwithstanding this office, and the duties which are attached to it, has
made use of the knowledge which his position afforded him as to the
situation of the French army, to convey intelligence respecting it to the
enemy, will be tried before a military commission, in order to be judged
as a traitor and a spy.

"Marshal Davout is charged with the execution of this order.

"The military commission will be composed of seven colonels of the corps
of Marshal Davout, by whom he will be tried."

In vain all the most faithful servants of the emperor wasted their
entreaties in order to obtain mercy for the Prince of Hatzfeld; only the
wife of the accused, far advanced in pregnancy, and overwhelmed with
terror, succeeded in arresting the anger of the conqueror. "This is most
certainly the writing of your husband," said he to the poor woman, who
could scarcely support herself. And as she dared not deny it: "Throw this
letter into the fire," added Napoleon, "and I shall no longer have any
power to procure his death." It was Marshal Duroc who had taken upon
himself the introduction of the Princess of Hatzfeld to the palace.

The prince of Hohenlohe, hard pushed by Murat and Marshal Lannes, had
capitulated before Prenzlow, on the 28th of October; General Blucher, who
had seized by force the free city of Lubeck, in the hope of finding there
a place of support, was constrained, on November 7th, to follow his
example. On the 8th, Magdeburg surrendered to Marshal Ney. Lannes occupied
Stettin, and Davout occupied Custrin. "Sire," wrote Lannes to Napoleon, "I
read your proclamation to the soldiers; they all began to cry 'Long live
the Emperor of the West!' I beseech your Majesty to let me know if, for
the future, you wish me to address my despatches to the Emperor of the
West, and I ask it in the name of my _corps d'armee_."

Napoleon did not reply; this dream of supreme glory, which he had had an
idea of realizing in the footsteps of Charlemagne, doubtless appeared to
him still beyond his reach. More than one sign, however, betrayed the
undying hope, that he was never to realize. It is only by reason and the
general good that genius is effectively sustained in extraordinary
enterprises. From day to day, and from victory to victory, these great
supports of the human mind became less and less visible in the conduct of
the Emperor Napoleon.

Hanover and the Hanseatic towns were occupied by the French army; Prussia
asked for a suspension of hostilities, in order to treat for peace. But
the emperor had conceived a new project. In the ceaseless activity of his
thoughts he reasonably enough looked on England as the implacable and
invincible enemy who directed and excited against him the animosity of
Europe. It was against England that he henceforth directed his efforts. "I
am about to reconquer the colonies over the globe," he wrote to the King
of Holland. It was in the same spirit that he made his declaration to the
Senate: "We have unalterably determined not to evacuate Berlin or Warsaw,
or the provinces which have fallen into our hands by force of arms, until
a general peace be concluded, the Spanish, Dutch, and French colonies
restored, the foundations of the Ottoman power confirmed, and the absolute
independence of this vast empire, the first interest of our people,
irrevocably secured."

These brilliant pledges of victory, which Napoleon kept in his hand as
hostages for the purpose of enforcing submission on England, did not,
however, appear to him sufficient; he resolved to strike at the wealth of
his enemy a mortal blow, which should exhaust its resources at the
fountain-head. On the 21st of November, 1806, he sent from Berlin to
Talleyrand a decree, putting England in the Index Expurgatorius of Europe
--at least, of that part of Europe which was in submission to his rule. The
continental blockade was established and regulated in the following
terms:--

"The British Isles are declared in a state of blockade.

"All commerce, and all correspondence, with the British Isles are
forbidden. Consequently, letters or packets addressed to England, or to an
Englishman, or written in the English language, will not pass through the
post, and will be seized.

"Every individual English subject, whatever may be his state or condition,
who shall be found in the countries occupied by our troops, or in the
countries of our allies, shall be made prisoner of war.

"Every warehouse, all merchandise, all property of whatsoever nature it
may be, belonging to an English subject, shall be deemed lawful prizes.

"Commerce in English merchandise is forbidden; any ships coming directly
from England or from the English colonies, or having been there since the
publication of the present decree, shall not be admitted into any port."

The Emperor Napoleon was right in recognizing, in his declaration to the
Senate, that it was lamentable, after so many years of civilization, to
recur to the principles, the barbarism, of the first ages of nations; and
the pretexts which he adduced for this necessity were as insufficient as
the consequences that flowed from his policy were odious. More than once
the English had replied by violent and rude proceedings to the proceedings
of the same nature in which Napoleon had for a long time been indulging on
all seas. They had claimed to interdict the commerce of neutrals by
imprudent and unjust "Orders in Council;" a still more inexcusable
iniquity fettered at one stroke the commerce of Europe in all its
branches, carrying annoyance into all families, and arbitrarily modifying
the conditions of all existence. From henceforth, in the poorest
household, no one could forget for a single day the power and the
vengeance of the Emperor Napoleon, as well as the death grapple between
him and England. It is a terrible undertaking for the most powerful of men
to change on all sides the habits of life, and lay his hands upon the
daily interests, of every one. The continental blockade was in Napoleon's
hands a redoubtable weapon against his enemy; the firmness of England and
the general distress, were yet cruelly to turn that weapon against his own
bosom.

He was not yet satisfied, and Napoleon resolved on making an end of all
his adversaries. Russia alone, silent and immovable, remained the ally of
England, and its last support. Its armies occupied Poland, always
quivering under the hands of its oppressors, ready to rise up against them
at the first appeal. It was upon the Vistula that the emperor had resolved
to go and seek the Russians, intoxicating the Poles beforehand with the
hope of the reconstitution of their country, and assured of finding
amongst them inexhaustible stores of provisions, ammunition, and soldiers.
"A Pole is not a man," he was accustomed to say, "he is a sabre." He
counted on all these sabres being ready to leap from their scabbards at
his voice, for the service of Poland. To the disquietude of the court of
Vienna on the subject of the insurrections which might be produced in
Galicia, Napoleon answered in advance by the promise of Silesia. "The
insurrection in Poland is a consequence of my war with Russia and
Prussia," wrote he to General Andreossy, recently sent to Vienna. "I have
never recognized the partition of Poland; but, a faithful observer of
treaties, in favoring an insurrection in Russian and Prussian Poland, I
will not mix myself up with Austrian Poland. Does Austria wish to keep
Galicia? Would she cede a part of it? I am willing to give her all the
facilities she can desire. Does she wish to treat openly or secretly?
After these manifestations I ought to say that I fear no one."

At the same time that he entered Poland, Napoleon excited the hostile
sentiment of the Porte against Russia. General Sebastiani was charged to
say to Sultan Selim: "Prussia, who was leagued with Russia, has
disappeared; I have destroyed its armies, and I am master of its fortified
towns. My armies are on the Vistula, and Warsaw is in my power. Prussian
and Russian Poland are rising, and forming armies to reconquer their
independence; it is the moment for reconquering yours. I have given orders
to my ambassador to enter into all necessary engagements with you. If you
have been prudent up to this time, a longer forbearance towards Russia
would be weakness, and cause the loss of your empire."

The King of Prussia had refused to accept the harsh conditions of the
armistice; he had resolved to struggle to the end, and to join the remains
of his forces to the army of the Emperor Alexander. "Your Majesty has had
me informed that you are throwing yourself into the arms of the Russians,"
wrote Napoleon to King Frederick William. "The future will make it
apparent whether you have chosen the best and most effective part. You
have taken the dice-box and thrown the dice, and the dice will decide the
question." Already the French armies had entered Poland, but they were not
there alone; two Russian corps, under the orders of General Benningsen and
General Buxhouden, had crossed the Niemen, and advanced towards the
Vistula, and soon afterwards they entered Warsaw. Marshals Davout and
Lannes sent reports, apparently contradictory, but in reality identical,
as to popular feeling in Poland. Davout had found at Posen an extreme
enthusiasm; he could scarcely furnish with arms those who pressed forward
to ask for them; the same sentiment animated the population of Warsaw,
when he made his entry in pursuit of the Russians, who fell back before
him. Meanwhile he wrote to the emperor, on December 1st: "Levies of men
are very easily made, but there is a want of persons who can direct their
instruction and organization. There is also a want of guns. The feeling of
Warsaw is excellent, but the upper class are making use of their influence
to calm the ardor which is prevalent in the middle classes. The
uncertainty of the future terrifies them, and they leave it to be
sufficiently understood that they will only openly declare themselves
when, with the declaration of their independence, they can also receive
tacit guarantees for its maintenance." Lannes regretted the campaign in
Poland; he recommended that they should establish themselves on the Oder,
and pointed out the inconveniences and dangers of the enterprise they were
about to attempt in a sterile and desert country. "They are always the
same--frivolous, divided, anarchical; we shall uselessly waste our blood
for their sakes, without founding anything durable."

Murat dreamed of seating himself on the throne of a restored Poland, and
he was angry at the mistrust of the great nobles. Napoleon read in his
correspondence a thought that the brilliant chief of the vanguard dared
not express; he had said to Davout, at the beginning of the campaign,
"When I shall see 40,000 Poles in the field I will declare their
independence, not before." In their turn the Poles, long crushed down by
harsh servitude, asked for guarantees from the conqueror, who had only
delivered them in order to subjugate them afresh. "Those who show so much
circumspection, and ask so many guarantees, are selfish persons, who are
not warmed by the love of country," wrote the emperor to Murat, already
Grand Duke of Berg for several months past. "I am experienced in the study
of men. My greatness is not founded on the aid of a few thousand Poles. It
is for them to profit, with enthusiasm, by present circumstances; it is
not for me to take the first step. Let them display a firm resolution to
render themselves independent--let them engage to uphold the king who will
be given to them, and then I shall see what I shall next have to do. Let
it be well understood that I do not come to beg a throne for any of my
relations; I have no lack of thrones to give to my family."

In that conversation with the world which he kept up by bulletins from the
grand army, Napoleon spoke of the Poles in other language; but he no
longer laid bare the secret of his thoughts. "The army has entered into
Warsaw," wrote he from Posen on December 1st. "It is difficult to paint
the enthusiasm of the Poles. Our entry into this great city was a triumph,
and the feelings that the Poles of all classes display since our arrival
cannot be expressed. The love of country and the national sentiment is not
only preserved in its entirety in the hearts of the people, but it has
even gained new vigor from misfortune. Their first passion, their chief
desire, is to become once more a nation. The richest leave their castles
in order to come and demand, with loud cries, the re-establishment of the
nation, and to offer their children, their fortunes, their influence. This
spectacle is truly touching. Already they have everywhere resumed their
ancient costume and their ancient customs.

"Shall the throne of Poland be re-established, and shall this great nation
reassert its existence and its independence? From the depths of the tomb
shall it be born again to life? God alone, who holds in His hands the
results of all events, is the arbiter of this grand political problem."

Under the hand of God, which in the depths of his soul he often
recognized, the Emperor Napoleon believed himself to be the arbiter of the
grand problem of the independence of Poland. He remained personally
indifferent to it, resolved on pursuing his own interest, either in aid
of, or in contempt of, the interests and aspirations of the Poles.

In spite of the generous cordiality of the population, who lavished their
resources upon those from whom they hoped for deliverance, Napoleon and
his troops perceived that they had entered a desert. "Our soldiers find
that the solitudes of Poland contrast with the smiling fields of their own
country; but they add immediately, 'They are a fine people, these Poles!'"
Before establishing himself for the winter in this savage country, under a
frozen sky, and on a cold and damp soil, it was necessary to push back the
enemy. Napoleon only went to Warsaw, and advanced towards the Russians
entrenched behind the Narew and the Ukra. Already his lieutenants, Davout,
Augereau, Ney, had taken up positions for attack. Furious battles at
Czarnovo, at Pultusk, at Golymin, at Soldau, obliged the Russians to fall
back upon the Pregel, without disaster to their _corps d'armee_, although
they had been constantly beaten. The rigor of the season had prevented
those grand concentrations of forces and those brilliant strokes in which
Napoleon ordinarily delighted; the troops advanced with difficulty through
impenetrable forests, soaked by the rain: the men fell in great numbers
without a battle. In the month of January, 1807, the emperor at last took
up his winter-quarters, carefully fortifying his positions, and laying
siege to the towns which still resisted him in Silesia. Breslau, Glogau,
Brieg successively succumbed. The old Marshal Lefebvre was charged with
the siege of Dantzig.

Meanwhile the Russians, henceforth concentrated under the orders of
General Benningsen, and less affected than the French by the inclemencies
to which they were accustomed, had not suspended their military
operations. Soon Marshal Ney, in one of those armed reconnoitering
expeditions which he often risked without orders, was able to assure
himself that the enemy was approaching us by a prolonged movement, which
was to bring him to the shore of the Baltic. Already a few battles had
taken place. The weather became cold; ice succeeded to the mud. Napoleon
quitted Warsaw on January 30th, resolved to march against the enemy.
"Since when have the conquered had the right of choosing the finest
country for their winter-quarters?" said the proclamation to the army.
Twice a great battle appeared imminent; twice a movement of the Russians
in retreat enabled them to escape from the overwhelming forces which
Napoleon had been able to collect; a few skirmishes, however, signalized
the first days of February. On the seventh day's march General Benningsen
entered Eylau.

The French entered in pursuit, and dislodged them. The Russians made their
bivouac outside the city whilst the battle was preparing for the morrow.
The weather was cold; one half of the country upon which the armies were
camped was only a sheet of ice covering some small lakes. The snow lay
thick upon the ground, and continued to fall in great flakes. The two
armies were composed of nearly equal forces; several French corps,
detached or delayed, were about to fail in the great effort which this
rough winter campaign required. The troops were fatigued and hungry. "I
have wherewith to nourish the army for a year," wrote Napoleon to Fouche,
annoyed at the reports current in France as to the sufferings of the
soldiers, "it is absurd to think one can want corn and wine, bread and
meat, in Poland." The provisions remained, nevertheless, insufficient. "I
can assure you," said the Duc de Fezensac in his military souvenirs, "that
with all these orders so freely given in January, our _corps d'armee_ was
dying of hunger in March."

Long before the dawn of a slowly breaking and cloudy day Napoleon was
already in the streets, establishing his guard in the cemetery of Eylau,
and ordering his line of battle. The formidable artillery of the Russians
covered their two lines; presently the shells fired the town of Eylau and
the village of Rothenen, which protected a division of Marshal Soult's.
The two armies remained immovable in a rain of cannon-balls. The Russians
were the first to move forward, in order to attack the mill of Eylau;
"they were impatient at suffering so much," says the 58th bulletin of the
grand army. Nearly at the same moment the corps of Marshal Davout arrived;
the emperor had him supported by Marshal Augereau. The snow fell in thick
masses, obscuring the view of the soldiers; the troops of Augereau turned
swiftly to the left, decimated by the Russian artillery. The marshal
himself, already ill before the battle, was struck by a ball. The officers
were nearly all wounded. The emperor called Murat: "Wilt thou let us be
annihilated by these people?" The cavalry shot immediately in advance;
only the imperial guard remained massed round Napoleon.

In a moment Murat had routed the Russian centre, but already the
battalions were reforming. Marshal Soult defended with difficulty the
positions of Eylau; Davout maintained a furious struggle against the left
wing of the Russians: the Prussians, preceding by one hour Marshal Ney,
who had been pursuing them for several days, made their appearance on the
battle-field. The dead and dying formed round the emperor a ghastly
rampart; gloomy and calm he contemplated the attack of the Prussians and
Russians united, in great numbers, and pressing upon Marshal Davout. The
latter glanced along the ranks of his troops: "The cowards will go to die
in Siberia," said he, "the brave will die here like men of honor." The
effort of the enemy died out against the heroic resistance of the French
divisions, who maintained their positions.

The night was falling; the carnage was horrible. In spite of the serious
advantage of the French troops, General Benningsen was preparing to
attempt a new assault, when he learnt the approach of Marshal Ney, who was
debouching towards Althof. The bad weather and the distance retarded the
effect of the combinations of the emperor. He had caused much blood to be
spilt; victory, however, remained with him; the Russians and Prussians
were decidedly beating a retreat. The French remained masters of this most
sanguinary battlefield, destitute of provisions, without shelter, in the
wet and cold. Marshal Ney, who had taken no part in the action, to which,
however, he assured success, surveyed the plain, covered with corpses and
inundated with blood. "He turned away from the hideous spectacle," says M.
de Fezensac, "crying, 'What a massacre, and without result!'" The Russians
had retired behind the Pregel to cover Koenigsberg. Napoleon re-entered his
cantonments. He established his headquarters at the little town of
Osterode, directing from this advanced post the works of defence on the
Vistula and Passarge, at the same time as the preparations for the siege
of Dantzig. On arriving there he wrote to King Joseph: "Staff-officers,
colonels, officers, have not undressed for two months, and a few of them
not for four; I have myself been fifteen days without taking off my boots.
We are in the midst of snow and mud, without wine, without brandy, without
bread, eating potatoes and meat, making long marches and countermarches,
without anything to sweeten existence, and fighting at bayonet-point and
under showers of grape-shot, the wounded very often obliged to be removed
on a sledge for fifty leagues in the open air. After having destroyed the
Prussian monarchy, we are making war against the remnants of Prussia,
against the Russians, the Calmucs, the Cossacks, and the peoples of the
north who formerly invaded the Roman Empire; we are making war in all its
energy and all its horror." Such vigorous language was not permitted to
all. "The gloomy pictures that have been drawn of our situation," wrote
Napoleon to Fouche on April 13th, "have for authors a few gossips of
Paris, who are simply blockheads. Never has the position of France been
grander or finer. As to Eylau, I have said and resaid that the bulletin
exaggerated the loss; and, for a great battle, what are 2000 men slain?
There were none of the battles of Louis XIV. or Louis XV. which did not
cost more. When I lead back my army to France and across the Rhine, it
will be seen that there are not many wanting at the roll-call."

It was against Russia and against the vigor of its resistance that
Napoleon now concentrated all his efforts. Tardy hostilities had at length
commenced between the Porte and Russia. For a moment the Sultan had
appeared to hesitate before the demands of the English, united to those of
the Russians: Admiral Duckworth forced the Dardanelles at the head of a
squadron, and destroyed the Turkish division anchored at Cape Nagara. In
spite of the terror which reigned in Constantinople, the energetic
influence of General Sebastiani carried the day. The overtures of the
English Legation were repulsed; the capital was armed all of a sudden,
under the direction of French officers. When Admiral Duckworth appeared
before the place, he found it in good condition of defence; thus the
English squadron could not leave the Straits of the Dardanelles without
sustaining serious damage. For the British navy the evil was small; the
moral effect could not but have some influence.

The Emperor Napoleon sought to profit by this circumstance to enter afresh
into negotiations with Austria. On the day after the battle of Eylau he
sent General Bertrand to the King of Prussia, offering to surrender him
his States as far as the Elbe. The messenger was charged with the
significant insinuation: "You will give just a hint that as to Poland,
since the emperor has become acquainted with it, he attaches to it no
value." The sacrifice of a fourth of the Prussian monarchy seemed too
bitter for King Frederick William; he replied to the envoy with evasive
answers. Napoleon became disdainful as regards the Prussians. It was with
Austria that he determined henceforth to treat concerning the affairs of
Prussia. "See now my plan, and what you must say to M. de Vincent," wrote
he on March 9, 1807, to Talleyrand: "To restore to the King of Prussia his
throne and his estates, and to maintain the integrity of the Porte. As to
Poland, that will be found included in the first part of the sentence. If
these bases of peace suit Austria, we shall be able to understand each
other. As for the remark of M. de Vincent, that Prussia is too thoroughly
humiliated to hope for recovery, that is reasonable. The end of all this
will be an arrangement between France and Austria, or between France and
Russia; for there will be no repose for the people, who need it so much,
except by this union."

Austria responded to these propositions of alliance by offer of mediation;
at the same time, and without ostentation, as a precautionary measure, she
was getting ready for war, and was secretly preparing her armaments. The
small places in the north of Prussia had fallen, one after another;
Dantzig alone was still waiting for the army which was to besiege it. The
Prussians had profited by this delay to put the place into a good state of
defence. On all sides Napoleon collected fresh forces, as if resolved upon
terrifying his secret enemies and crushing his declared ones. The
conscription for 1808 was enforced in France by an anticipation of nearly
two years; the Italian regiments and the auxiliary German corps were
concentrated on the Vistula; the emperor even went so far as to demand
from Spain the contingent which the Prince de la Paix had offered him on
the day after the battle of Jena. Formerly the Spanish minister had nursed
other ideas, and had counted on serving the Prussians; he, however,
hastened to despatch 10,000 men to the all-powerful conqueror. An army of
reserve had just been created on the Elbe; by the middle of March the town
of Dantzig was completely invested.

I do not care to recount the incidents of a siege which lasted more than
two months, and which was conducted in a masterly manner by Chasseloup and
Lariboisiere. Marshal Lefebvre grew weary of the long and able
preparations of his colleagues, and wished to begin the actual assault.
Authorization for this step was asked of the emperor. "You only know how
to grumble, to abuse your allies, and change your opinion at the will of
the first comer," wrote Napoleon to the old warrior. "You treat the allies
without any consideration; they are not accustomed to be under fire, but
that will come. Do you think that we were as brave in '92 as we are to-
day, after fifteen years of warfare? The chests of your grenadiers that
you wish to push everywhere will not overturn walls; you must let your
engineers work, and whilst waiting learn to have patience. The loss of a
few days, which I should not just now know how to employ, does not require
you to get several thousand men killed whose lives it is possible to
economize. You will have the glory of taking Dantzig; when that is
accomplished, you will be satisfied with me."

Meanwhile, the Russians and Prussians had resolved upon an attempt to
raise the siege of Dantzig: a considerable body came to attack the French
camp before the fort of Weichelsmunde. They were repulsed, after a furious
combat, by the aid of the reinforcements which had arrived to succor
Marshal Lefebvre; and the attempts of the English corvettes to re-victual
the town were equally unsuccessful. A previous attack of the Swedes upon
Stralsund had brought about no definite result, and their general, Essen,
had been constrained to conclude an armistice. Dantzig capitulated at
last, on the 26th of May, without having undergone the assault which the
French soldiers loudly demanded. As early as the 22nd, Napoleon had
written to Marshal Lefebvre: "I authorize Marshal Kalbreuth to go out
under the ordinary regulations, wishing to give this general an especial
proof of esteem; however, the capitulation of Mayence cannot be taken as a
basis, as the siege was less advanced than that of Dantzig now is. I
allowed, at the time, an honorable capitulation for General Wurmser, shut
up in Mantua; I wish to accord one more advantageous to General Kalbreuth,
taking a middle position between that of Mayence and that of Mantua."

All the French _corps d'armee_ occupied entrenched camps, prudently
defended against the attacks of enemies; they were suffering from the
rigors of the winter, and the large stores of wine found in Dantzig were
an important resource for the soldiers. The attempts at mediation by
Austria had failed; the campaign of 1809 was being prepared; everywhere
the grass was springing up in the fields, affording necessary sustenance
for the horses; the wild swans were reappearing in flocks upon the shores
of the Passarge. The Emperor Napoleon had fixed upon the 10th of June for
the resumption of hostilities.

The Russians forestalled it: Alexander had sent his guard to General
Benningsen. "Brothers, uphold honor!" said the young emperor to his
soldiers as they began the march. "We will do everything that is
possible," cried the troops: "adieu, master!" Already Benningsen was
advancing against the corps of Ney, who occupied the advanced posts, but
the clever and prudent arrangements of Napoleon had prepared the retreat
of his lieutenants; without disorder and without weakness, always
victoriously fighting, Marshal Ney fell back upon Deppen; two other
attacks upon the bridges of Lanutten and Spanden were likewise repulsed.
The concentration of the French _corps d'armee_ began to be effected near
Saafeldt, when General Benningsen changed all of a sudden his plan of
campaign: passing from the offensive to the defensive, he decided to
repass the Alle, in order to protect the entrenched camp of Heilsberg, and
by the same movement the town of Koenigsberg, the last refuge of the
resources of Prussia. The retreat of the Russians commenced on the evening
of the 7th of June.

Napoleon followed them with almost the whole of his army; the detachments
of the vanguard and rearguard had more than once been engaged in partial
combats when, on the evening of the 10th of June, the French army
debouched before the entrenched camp of Heilsberg strongly supported by
the banks of the Alle. Napoleon followed the left bank, seeking to
forestall the enemy at the confluence of the Alle and the Pregel, in the
hope of seizing Koenigsberg before the place could be succored. Murat and
Davout were already threatening the city.

It was the supreme feature in the genius of Napoleon, that an indomitable
perseverance in wisely calculated projects did not exclude the
thunderbolts of a marvellous promptitude in resolution and combinations.
Uncertainty and want of foresight reigned, on the contrary, in the
military councils of the Russians. General Benningsen, formerly in the
attitude of attack, now compelled to engage in a defensive march, and
projecting the defence of Koenigsberg, thought it all of a sudden necessary
to protect himself against an attack in flank. He crossed the Alle under
the eyes of the French, and meeting them on the left bank of the river, he
advanced towards the corps of Marshal Lannes, whom the emperor had sent
against Domnau; a strong Russian detachment drove from Friedland the
regiment of French hussars, who had established themselves there. The
whole Russian army attacked Marshal Lannes, who had just collected a few
reinforcements. It was to judge badly of the able prudence of the Emperor
Napoleon, to hope to encounter a single corps of his grand army: Lannes
held out till mid-day upon the field of battle with heroic skill; he sent
meanwhile express after express to the emperor, who arrived at a gallop,
his face radiant with the anticipation of the joys of victory. "It is the
14th of June," said he, "the anniversary of Marengo; it is a lucky day for
us."

Napoleon and his staff had preceded the march of the troops; Lannes and
his soldiers recovered their forces in the presence of the invincible
chief who had so many times led them to victory. "Give me only a
reinforcement, sire," cried Oudinot, whose coat was pierced with bullets,
"and although my grenadiers can do no more, we will cast all the Russians
into the water."

This was the aim of the emperor as well as of his soldiers; and the
positions which General Benningsen had taken, concentred in a bend of the
river, rendered the enterprise practicable. The day was advanced, and a
few of the generals had been wishing to put off the battle till the
morrow. "No!" said Napoleon; "one does not surprise the enemy twice in
such a blunder." Then sweeping with his telescope the masses of the enemy
grouped before him, he quickly seized the arm of Marshal Ney. "You see the
Russians and Friedland," said he; "the bridges are there--there only.
March right on before you; enter into Friedland; take the bridges,
whatever it may cost, and do not disquiet yourself about what shall take
place on your right, or your left, or in your rear. That concerns us--the
army and me."

When Marshal Ney had set out, marching to danger as to a festival, the
emperor turned towards Marshal Mortier and said, "That man is a lion."

Upon the field of battle, where he had just arrived in face of the enemy,
who appeared hesitating and troubled, Napoleon dictated his orders, which
he caused to be delivered to all his lieutenants. The troops continued to
arrive; all the corps formed again at the posts which had been assigned to
them. The emperor checked the impatience of his generals. "The action," he
told them, "will commence when the battery posted in the village of
Posthenen shall commence to fire." It was half-past five when the cannon
at last sounded.

Ney advanced towards Friedland under a terrible fire from the Russians;
extricated by the cavalry of Latour-Marbourg, and protected by the
artillery of General Victor, suddenly thrown in advance, the French
columns had reached a stream defended by the imperial Russian guard. The
resistance of these picked troops for a moment threw disorder into our
lines, who fell back; when General Dupont, arriving with his division,
broke the Russian guard. The French in pursuit of their enemies penetrated
into Friedland. The city was in flames; the fugitives fled towards the
bridges; a very small number had succeeded in reaching them when this only
means of safety was snatched from them; the bridges were cut and set on
fire when Marshal Ney took possession of the burning remains of Friedland.
At the same moment the corps of General Gortschakoff, pressed by Marshals
Lannes and Mortier, fighting valiantly in a position without egress,
sought in vain to reconquer the city, and afterwards redescended the
length of the river in the hope of finding fordable passages. Many
soldiers were drowned, others succeeded in regaining the right shore.
Almost the entire column of General Lambert succeeded in escaping. Night
at length followed the long twilight; it was ten o'clock in the evening
when the combat ceased. The victory was complete; the remains of the
Russian army retired upon the Pregel without Napoleon being able again to
encounter them. They soon afterwards gained the Niemen. Meanwhile Marshal
Soult had occupied Koenigsberg, evacuated by Generals Lestocq and Kaminsky.
The King of Prussia possessed nothing more than the little town of Memel.

The Emperor Alexander had rejoined his troops, vanquished and decimated in
spite of their courage; the King Frederick William placed himself close to
his ally, at Tilsit. Peace had become necessary for the Russians; for the
Prussians it had long been so. Napoleon resolved on negotiating for
himself. In response to the request for an armistice, he proposed an
interview, with the Emperor Alexander. It was in the middle of the Niemen,
upon a raft constructed for this purpose, that the two emperors met.

Alexander was young, amiable, winning, drawn along at times by chivalrous
or mystical sentiments and enthusiasms, at other times under the dominion
of Oriental tastes and passions. No one could be more capable of being
influenced by the charm of a superior genius and an extraordinary destiny,
and the personal ascendancy of a man who knew at once how to please and
how to vex.

Napoleon wished to captivate his vanquished enemy, whom he desired to make
his ally; he succeeded in doing so with ease. Master of the destinies of
the world--in his own idea more so than he even was in reality--he had
resolved upon offering to Alexander compensations which might satisfy him,
whilst distracting his attention from the conquests and encroachments
which Napoleon reserved for himself. On the eve of Austerlitz, Napoleon
had said to Prince Dolgorouki: "Ah well! let Russia extend herself at the
expense of her neighbors!" It was the same thought that he was about to
present to the young monarch, humiliated and conquered, wishing to display
it before his eyes in order to blind him more completely.

The Russians and Prussians were equally irritated against England. She had
granted them money, but her military efforts had not corresponded with her
promises; and it was to her obstinate hatred of France that the two
monarchs attributed the origin of their defeats. "If you have a grudge
against England," said Alexander, "we shall easily understand each other,
for I have myself to complain of her as much as you have." It was in this
first interview the sole effort of Napoleon to develop in the mind of
Alexander the sentiments of anger and weariness by which he had been
inspired by the selfishness which he imputed to Great Britain and the
inability and weakness which he recognized in Prussia, and to engage the
Russian emperor to become friendly with the only power which could offer
him a glorious and profitable alliance. In the mind of the emperor, we
have already said, the necessity for a continental alliance had long since
made itself felt. "Austria or Russia," he had said to Talleyrand. Napoleon
offered his hand to the Emperor Alexander.

The city of Tilsit was neutralized, and the two emperors established their
quarters there. Before quitting the opposite shore of the Niemen,
Alexander presented the King of Prussia to Napoleon in that floating
pavilion on the river which flowed between the two nations. Honest,
moderate, and dignified even in his profound abasement, Frederick William
neither experienced nor exercised in any degree the seductiveness to which
the Emperor Alexander succumbed, and which he was in his turn capable of
displaying. He entreated his ally to make constant and persevering efforts
in his behalf, which Alexander felt himself compelled to do not without a
secret ill feeling. It was with an ostentatious display of graciousness
and condescension that Napoleon ceaselessly reminded the young Czar that
he accorded no favor to the King of Prussia except out of regard for his
entreaties.

"In the midst of the war in which Russia and France have been engaged,"
wrote Napoleon, on the 4th of July, 1807, "both sovereigns, enlightened as
to the situation and the true policy of their empires, have desired the
re-establishment not only of peace, but of a common accord, and by the
force of reason and truth have wished to form an alliance, and to pass in
a single instant from open war to the most intimate relations. The
boundless amity and confidence which the high qualities of the Emperor
Alexander have inspired in the Emperor Napoleon have caused his heart to
seal that which his reason had already approved and ratified. The
protection of the emperor will result in the King of Prussia being allowed
to re-enter into the possession of all the countries which border on the
two Haffs, extending from the sources of the Oder to the sea. Solely with
a desire of pleasing the Emperor Alexander, a large number of fortified
towns will be restored to the King of Prussia. The policy of the Emperor
Napoleon is that his immediate influence should be bounded by the Elbe;
and he has adopted this policy because it is the only one which can be
reconciled with the system of sincere and constant amity which he wishes
to maintain with the great empire of the north."

Under the veil of this apparent moderation the pretensions or resolutions
of the Emperor Napoleon were thus summed up: King Frederick William
recovered Old Prussia, Pomerania, Brandenburg, Upper and Lower Silesia; he
would abandon all the provinces to the left of the Elbe, which were to
constitute, with the Grand Duchy of Hesse, a kingdom of Westphalia,
destined for Joseph Bonaparte. The Duchies of Posen and Warsaw, snatched
from Russian Poland, were to form a Polish State under the title of the
Grand Duchy of Warsaw, of which the Elector of Saxony, recently elevated
to the royal dignity, received the gift, on condition of maintaining a
military road across Silesia. All the States founded by Napoleon were to
be recognized. Russia was charged with the mediation between France and
England; France became arbitrator between Russia and the Porte.

It was much, and indeed too much, for Prussia, torn asunder without being
completely destroyed, reduced to the half of its territory, and deprived
of its most important towns--for Dantzig became a free city, and Magdeburg
formed part of the new kingdom of Westphalia. When these hard conditions
were revealed to Frederick William by the Emperor Alexander, the
unfortunate king protested against a ruin so complete. He conceived, for a
moment, the vain hope of obtaining from Napoleon some concessions, by
bringing to bear on him the influence of the genius and beauty of Queen
Louisa. This princess quitted Memel to present herself at Tilsit. "She is
charming," wrote Napoleon to the Empress Josephine; but this cold
appreciation of the accomplishments of the woman exercised no influence
upon the resolutions of the conqueror and the politician. The queen in
vain brought into play all the resources of her intellect and her charming
graces; in vain presenting to the conqueror a rose which she had just
plucked, she ventured to ask for Magdeburg in exchange for her flower. "It
is you who have offered it to me, madame," said Napoleon, roughly. Queen
Louisa quitted Memel, humiliated and sorrowful down to the very depths of
her soul. Her children and her people were never to pardon us for their
wrongs.

Alexander had loyally defended his friend, and felt assured of having
obtained for him all that it was possible to obtain; in his secret
thoughts he consoled himself for the concessions he had been constrained
to make for others as well as for himself, by the dazzling prospects which
Napoleon knew so well how to open brightly to his view. To the north and
south the young Czar believed himself master of new territories, long
objects of ambition to the Russian Empire. The Sultan Selim had just
fallen at Constantinople before a revolt of the Janissaries; he was a
prisoner in his own palace, and the government which was about to succeed
him would naturally be hostile to French influence. Napoleon then found
himself free to abandon to Russia a large part of that Ottoman Empire
always coveted by her. "Constantinople! never!" Napoleon had said, in
exclamation to himself, heard by one of his secretaries; "the empire of
the world is at Constantinople!" But the _debris_ of the Turkish power
were of a character to satisfy all the claimants; and in case Turkey
should not accept the peace, the secret treaty concluded between France
and Russia assured to the Czar all the European provinces, with the
exception of Constantinople and Roumelia. In case of the cabinet of London
refusing the mediation of Russia, Alexander engaged himself to declare war
against England. Should Portugal and Sweden, equally subject to European
influence, participate in the same refusal, it was agreed that the Emperor
Napoleon should send an army into Portugal, and that the Emperor Alexander
should enter Sweden. Finland lay very convenient for the Russian Empire.
"The King of Sweden is in truth your brother-in-law and your ally," said
Napoleon; "let him follow the changes in your policy, or let him undergo
the consequences of his ill-will. Sweden is the geographical enemy of
Russia. St. Petersburg finds itself too near to Finland. The good Russians
must no longer hear from their palaces at St. Petersburg the cannon of the
Swedes."

The treaty of Tilsit was concluded on the 7th of July, 1807, and was
signed on the 8th. The King and Queen of Prussia departed immediately,
full of bitter sorrow and discouragement. The two emperors separated on
the 9th, with a cordiality at that time sincere in its ostentatious
display. More than once they had together passed their troops in review;
yet once again they showed themselves to the two armies. Napoleon
decorated, with his own hand, a soldier of the Russian army, who had been
pointed out to him by the Czar. At last he accompanied Alexander to the
shores of the Niemen, waiting upon the bank until his friend and ally had
reached the farther shore. Then entering his carriage, he took the road to
Koenigsberg, and immediately afterwards that to France, charging Berthier
and Marshal Kalbreuth with the regulation of the details of the evacuation
of Prussia, and the payment of the war contributions with which the
conquered countries were to be crushed down. On the 27th of July, at six
o'clock in the morning, the emperor re-entered Paris, which he had quitted
the preceding year, and which, since then, he had so many times
intoxicated with the report of his victories. The military glory was
brilliant and even dazzling; the political work remained precarious, by
its nature as well as by its immensity. Empires founded upon conquest are
necessarily fragile, even when the war has been undertaken from serious
and legitimate motives. When the war is carried on through the ambition of
a man or a people, in scorn of right or justice--when it injures at once
the interests, the pride, and the repose of all nations--no genius or
brightness of glory can succeed in assuring its duration, or
legitimatizing its success. France perceived this in the midst of the
enthusiasm of victory. England repeated it with malicious confidence, in
the hope of confirming the courage of its people. Once more the latter
power found itself alone, in face of the ever-increasing might of France
and the incomparable genius of its sovereign.

It is the mournful effect of a weakening of the moral sense in the chief
of a state, to enfeeble that moral sense at the same time, and by an
inevitable contagion, amongst his rivals and adversaries. In presence of
the continental blockade, and of the resolution which the Emperor Napoleon
had announced of imposing it upon the whole of Europe, the English
cabinet, henceforth directed by the inheritors of the policy of Pitt, by
Canning and Lord Castlereagh, resolved upon using violence in its turn.
Fearful of seeing the maritime forces of Denmark pass into the power of
Napoleon, England violated the neutrality of this little kingdom, and
forestalled the secret conditions of the treaty of Tilsit. Lord Cathcart,
at the head of a considerable squadron, was charged with the duty of
summoning the Prince Regent to deliver to him the Danish fleet, as a
pledge of the loyal intentions of his country; he offered at the same time
to defend the Danish territory and all its colonies. The prince responded
with bitter irony, "Your protection? Have we not seen your allies waiting
for succor more than a year, without receiving it?" Copenhagen was
bombarded; Sir Arthur Wellesley, whose name, for the first time, became
known in Europe, effected his disembarkation with a corps of 10,000 men.
The prince saw himself compelled to capitulate, and deliver to the English
his fleet, with all the materiel of his arsenals. Vehemently did Europe
reprobate this act of violence. The English cabinet made public the
article of the Treaty of Tilsit, which had furnished the motive for its
aggression. But any effort at mediation was now ridiculous. The Emperor
Alexander perceived it to be so. On the 11th of November, Lord Leveson
Gower, then Ambassador of England at St. Petersburg, received his
passports, and the Czar haughtily adhered to the French alliance. "I deem
it prudent to close one's eyes against the orders which English mercantile
vessels have received to quit Russian ports," said General Savary, whom
Napoleon had accredited to the Emperor Alexander. The latter treated the
French envoy with distinction, but the court and world of St. Petersburg
had not forgotten the part that Savary had taken in the murder of the Duke
d'Enghien; he remained isolated in his palace, and even in the saloons of
the emperor. The Russian declaration of war was responded to by the
manifesto of England. "Publish the treaty of Tilsit, with the secret
articles," said Canning; "they have not been communicated to England, but
we are acquainted with them, nevertheless; they will explain to Europe our
conduct and our fears, as well as the change of attitude on the part of
Russia." The Emperor Napoleon was already regretting the magnificent
prospect which he had opened before the Czar on the side of Turkey; the
government of the Sublime Porte had adroitly accepted the mediation of
France. Napoleon sought to excite the covetousness of the Russians towards
the north; M, de Caulaincourt, who had replaced Savary at St. Petersburg,
pushed forward with ardor the war against Sweden, and the conquest of
Finland. As a consequence of the English aggression, Denmark had cast
itself into the arms of France; it accordingly became easy to close
against England the passage of the Sound. The Czar and his favorite
counsellor, M. de Romanzoff, returned ceaselessly to the hopes that
Napoleon had led them to conceive. "The ancient Ottoman Empire is played
out," said the Russian minister; "unless the Czar lays his hand on it, the
Emperor Napoleon will be soon obliged to announce in the _Moniteur_ that
the succession of the Sultans is open, and the natural heirs have only to
present themselves."

In the meantime, and as a constant menace against an ally whom he was not
completely satisfying, Napoleon was prolonging his occupation of the
Prussian territory, under the pretext of the alleged slowness of payment
of the war contributions; he was organizing provisionally the government
of Hanover, which he had reserved as a future bait for the English
government; and he was treating with Spain for the passage of troops
necessary for the invasion of Portugal. This power, constantly faithful to
the English alliance, having refused to give in its adhesion to the
continental blockade, the emperor had sent against it General Junot with
26,000 men. The negotiations with Madrid had not been completed, and the
French soldiers had already entered Spanish territory. A second army was
preparing to follow them. Austria remained disquieted, and ready to take
offence; a convention favorable to her was signed at Fontainebleau, on
October 10th. On the 27th the eventual and provisional partition of
Portugal was accepted by the Spanish envoy, Yzquierdo. A kingdom of
Southern Lusitania was assigned to the Queen of Etruria, who renounced her
Italian possessions; the independent principality of Algarve was to be
constituted for the Prince de la Paix; the emperor reserved for himself
the centre of the country, conquered by anticipation. A Spanish corps was
to join the French troops for the invasion of Portugal. General Junot
marched upon Lisbon. Vast projects, unjustifiable in their nature, were
linked with this invasion of the Peninsula, necessarily entailing blunders
and crimes as dangerous as lamentable. Napoleon had resolved upon driving
the Bourbons from all the thrones of Europe, in order to replace them with
Bonapartes. He set out for Italy with the view of completing one part of
his work before laying his hand on Spain.

Quitting Paris on November 16th, the Emperor surprised Eugene Beauharnais
(whom he was about solemnly to adopt) by assuring to him the succession of
the crown of Italy. He ran through the north of the Italian peninsula,
reorganizing at Venice the public services, which had fallen into
desuetude; decreeing the creation of a commune on Mont Cenis; and
providing for the needs of travellers by the new route which he had
opened. At Mantua he had an interview with his brother Lucien, whom he
would have wished to place upon the throne of Portugal, but that the
latter remained obstinately rebellious against the authority of his all-
powerful brother, who required of him the rupture of an already old union
with Madame Jouberthon. Having returned to Milan on the 13th of December,
Napoleon published there, on the 17th, a decree destined to aggravate the
rigors of the continental blockade. By reprisals as unjust as awkward,
directed against decree of Berlin, the English Cabinet had promulgated, on
the 11th of November, 1807, an Order in Council which compelled the ships
of all neutral nations to touch at an English port to import or export
merchandise, paying custom-house dues averaging 25 per cent. The ships
which neglected this precaution were to be declared lawful prizes. In
response, the Emperor Napoleon decreed that any vessel touching at an
English port, or submitting to inspection from an English ship, should be
by that very fact deneutralized, and become in its turn a lawful prize. In
this insensate rivalry, which ruined at the same time the commerce of
England and of the world, the Cabinet of London had taken no care to
modify, in favor of the United States, the rigor of its ordinances. This
was for England the occasion of grave difficulties, and of a war at one
time dangerous. Arbitrary interference and violence were the rule on all
the seas.

Through difficulties and sufferings which threatened to destroy the army
placed under his orders, General Junot arrived at the gates of Lisbon. He
had to struggle with no other enemy than the bad roads and the want of
provisions. Terror had seized upon the royal house of Portugal. The
_Moniteur_ of November 13th already contained an article upon the fall of
the illustrious house of Braganza. "The Prince Regent of Portugal loses
his throne," said the official journal; "he loses it influenced by the
intrigues of the English; he loses it for not having been willing to seize
the English merchandise at Lisbon. What does England do.--this ally so
powerful? She regards with indifference all that is passing in Portugal.
What will she do when Portugal shall be taken? Will she go to seize
Brazil? No; if the English make this attempt the Catholics will drive them
out. The fall of the House of Braganza will remain another proof that the
fall of whatever attaches itself to the English is inevitable."

The Prince Regent of Portugal had thought it possible to arrest the march
of General Junot by sending to him emissaries charged to make all the
submissions required by Napoleon. The envoys had not been able to meet the
French army, scattered and decimated by the ills it had undergone; it
advanced, however, and the news of its approach drove the Court of
Portugal on board the ships which were still to be found at the mouth of
the Tagus. On November 27th the mad queen, her son the prince regent, her
daughters, and nearly all the families of distinction in Lisbon,
accompanied by their servants, crowded on board the Portuguese fleet,
resolved to take their flight to Brazil. From seven to eight thousand
persons, with all their portable property, thus obstructed the mouth of
the Tagus, protected by the English fleet; on the 28th a favorable wind
permitted them to sail. When General Junot entered Lisbon, on the 30th of
November, at eight o'clock in the morning, the treasures which he was
charged to seize were beyond his reach. He established himself without
resistance in the capital, soon overwhelmed with confiscations and war
contributions. "Everything is more easy in the first moment than
afterwards," wrote the Emperor to Junot on the 13th of December, 1807. "Do
not seek for popularity at Lisbon, nor for the means of pleasing the
nation; that would be failing in your aim, emboldening the people, and
preparing misfortunes for yourself. The hope that you conceive of commerce
and prosperity, is a chimera with which one is lulled asleep."

Jerome Bonaparte had been declared King of Westphalia on the 8th of
December. On the 10th the act announced by the treaty of Fontainebleau was
consummated. The Queen Regent of Etruria, Maria Louisa of Bourbon,
declared to her subjects, in the name of her son, that she was called upon
to reign over a new kingdom. Tuscany then fell directly into the hands of
the Emperor Napoleon, who confided its government to his sister, Eliza
Baciocchi, to whom he had already given the principality of Lucca and
Piombino.

Submission or flight! such was the only alternative that seemed to remain
to continental sovereigns in presence of the exactions and the imperious
will of Napoleon. The Pope alone, as already for two years past, was still
resisting his demands, and was evincing an independence with regard to him
which was every day irritating more and more the all-powerful master of
Europe. Sadly disabused of the illusions and the hopes which had drawn him
to Paris for the coronation of Napoleon, Pius VII. had preserved in his
personal communications with the emperor a paternal and tender
graciousness. He had much to obtain and much to fear on the part of the
conqueror. Returning to Italy in the month of June, 1805, he said, in his
allocution to the cardinals: "We have clasped in our arms at Fontainebleau
this prince, so powerful and so full of love for us. Many things have
already been done, and are only the earnest of that which is yet to be
accomplished."

Meanwhile, the Code Napoleon had been applied to Italy, authorizing
divorce, and taking the place of the Italian Concordat, which declared the
Catholic religion to be the religion of the State. The Pope had complained
of it, not without warmth, and had received on the part of the emperor
assurances which were as vain as they were futile. But already the
conflict was becoming personal and more pressing; the refusal of the Holy
Father to dissolve the marriage of Jerome Bonaparte with Miss Paterson
(June, 1805), at once produced antagonism between the conscience of the
Pope and the views of Napoleon as to the elevation of his family to the
new or ancient thrones which he destined for them in Europe. Pius VII. had
long studied canonical interdictions; he consulted neither his ministers
nor his doctors; it was a personal reply he addressed to the emperor. "It
is out of our power." said he, "to pronounce the judgment of nullity; if
we were to usurp such an authority that we have not, we should render
ourselves culpable of an abominable abuse before the tribunal of God; and
your Majesty yourself, in your justice, would blame us for pronouncing a
sentence contrary to the testimony of our conscience and to the invariable
principles of our Church."

Napoleon's anger remained warm, but he had surmounted the difficulty by
dissolving by an imperial decree the marriage of his brother, and by
causing him soon after to marry a princess of Wurtemberg. The disagreement
with the Court of Rome, which was soon to break forth, depended on his
all-powerful will, and caused him no care. In the movement of the troops,
necessitated in October, 1805, by his campaign against Austria, the
emperor had charged General Gouvion St. Cyr to traverse the States of the
Church in order to take up a position in Lombardy. Upon the route lay the
town of Ancona. The French troops received an order to seize the place and
establish a garrison there, an order which was immediately executed.

In spite of the difficulties which had recently arisen between the emperor
and himself, the Pope thought that Napoleon and the French Revolution were
much indebted to him personally. Europe took this view, and frequent
reproaches had been addressed to the Court of Rome by the powers who were
enemies or rivals of France. It was, then, with astonishment, mingled with
indignation, that Pius VII. learnt the news of the occupation of Ancona;
he wrote, on the 13th November, 1805, a personal and secret letter to the
emperor:--"We avow frankly to your Majesty the keen chagrin that we
experience in seeing ourselves treated in a way that we do not think we
have in any degree merited. Our neutrality has been recognized by your
Majesty, as by all other powers. The latter have fully respected it, and
we had especial motives for thinking that the sentiments of amity which
your Majesty professed with regard to us would have preserved us from such
a cruel affront. We will tell you frankly, since our return from Paris we
have experienced only bitterness and trouble, and we do not find in your
Majesty a return of those sentiments which we think ourselves warranted in
justly expecting from you. That which we owe to ourselves is to ask from
your Majesty the evacuation of Ancona, and, if met with a refusal, we
should not see how to reconcile therewith a continuation of a good
understanding with the French minister."

It was from Munich, on the morrow of the battle of Austerlitz and of the
peace of Presburg, that Napoleon at length responded, on the 7th of
January, 1806, to the letter of the Pope, in the midst of the concert of
adulations and transports which were lavished on him by the vanquished as
well as by his courtiers. The protest of Pius VII. recalled to him the
disagreeable remembrance of an independent authority, and one which he had
not been always able to submit to his will; the anger of the despot broke
forth with violence at once spontaneous and measured: "Your Holiness
complains that since your return from Paris you have had nothing but
causes of sorrow. The reason is, that since then all those who were
fearing my power and testifying their friendship have changed their
sentiments, thinking themselves authorized to do so by the power of the
coalition; and that since the return of your Holiness to Rome I have
experienced nothing but refusals to all my designs, even those that were
of the utmost importance to religion; as, for example, when it was a
question of hindering Protestantism from raising its head in France. I
look upon myself as the protector of the Holy See, and by this title I
have occupied Ancona. I look upon myself, like my predecessors of the
second and third dynasty, as the eldest son of the Church, as alone
bearing the sword to protect it and to shelter it from being defiled by
Greeks and Mussulmans. I should ever be the friend of your Holiness, if
you would only consult your heart and the true friends of religion. If
your Holiness wishes to send away my minister, you are free to do so. You
are free to receive in preference the English and the Caliph of
Constantinople. God is the judge who has done most for the religion of all
the princes who reign."

Napoleon had excluded his brother Jerome from the succession to the
Empire, but he affected to dread for France the possibility of a
Protestant sovereign. It was with an increase of coarse violence that he
wrote on the same day to his uncle, Cardinal Fesch: "Since these imbeciles
think there will be no inconvenience in a Protestant occupying the throne
of France, I will send them a Protestant ambassador. I am religious, but I
am not a bigot. Constantine separated the civil from the military, and I
also may appoint a senator to command in my name at Rome. Tell Consalvi--
tell even the Pope himself--that since he wishes to drive my minister from
Rome, I should be well able to re-establish him there. For the Pope, I am
Charlemagne, because, like Charlemagne, I unite the crown of France with
that of the Lombards, and my empire borders on that of the East. I expect
then that his conduct towards me shall be regulated from this point of
view. Otherwise I shall reduce the Pope to the position of Bishop of
Rome."

The French troops did not evacuate Ancona, and the French minister
remained at Rome. But soon new subjects of disagreement arose between
Napoleon and the Pope, always a scrupulous observer of the neutrality
which he thought due from him to all the powers. The emperor had already
required that all the ports of his allies should be closed against English
commerce; in proportion as his enemies became more numerous and his
arbitrary power more oppressive, he extended his pretensions even over the
countries neutral by situation and by state obligations. Joseph Bonaparte
had just been proclaimed King of Naples; the house of Bourbon occupied in
Italy only the ridiculous throne of Etruria, already on the point of being
taken from them. Napoleon wished to exact from the Pope an interdiction of
his ports and his territory to the exiles or the refugees who had from
time immemorial been accustomed to seek an asylum in Rome. "Your Holiness
would be able to avoid all these embarrassments by going forward in a
straight road," wrote Napoleon to Pius VII., on February 22, 1806. "All
Italy will be subject to my laws. I will not touch in any way the
independence of the Holy See; I will even repay it for the injuries which
the movements of my armies may occasion to it; but it must be on the
condition that your Holiness will show the same regard for me in temporal
affairs as I show for you in spiritual ones, and that you will cease your
useless consideration for the heretical enemies of the Church, and for the
powers who can do nothing for you. Your Holiness is sovereign of Rome, but
I am its emperor. All my enemies ought to be yours. It is not proper then
that any agent of the King of Sardinia, any Englishman, Russian, or Swede,
should reside at Rome or in your states, neither that any ship belonging
to these powers should enter your ports. Those who speak any other
language to your Holiness deceive you, and will end by drawing down upon
you misfortunes that will be disastrous." He added in his letter to
Cardinal Fesch: "Say plainly that I have my eyes open, that I am not
deceived any more than I choose to be; that I am Charlemagne, the sword of
the Church, the emperor; and that they ought not to know that there is an
empire of Russia. I make the Pope acquainted with my intentions in a few
words. If he does not agree, I shall reduce him to the same position which
he occupied before Charlemagne."

It was against Cardinal Consalvi, formerly the clever and firm negotiator
of the Concordat, that the emperor, assisted by Cardinal Fesch, nursed his
suspicions and his anger; he regarded him as systematically hostile to
France; but the attachment of the Pope for his minister remained
unshakable; it was from Consalvi alone that a voluntary submission might
be hoped for. "If he loves his religion and his country, tell Consalvi,
plainly," wrote the emperor to his uncle, "that there are only two courses
to select from--either to do always what I wish, or to quit the ministry."

The moderation and prudent resolutions of the Roman ministry showed itself
in the response of the Pope to the requirements of Napoleon. Already an
obscure Englishman--Mr. Jackson, for a long time accredited to the King of
Sardinia--had excited the mistrust of Napoleon, who insulted him in
official documents. "An English minister, the disgrace of his country,
found in Rome an asylum. There he organized conspiracies, subsidized
brigands, hatched perfidies, bribed assassins; and Rome protected the
traitor and his agents--becoming a theatre of scandal, a manufactory of
libels, and an asylum of brigandage." The only crime of Jackson had been
to keep his court _au courant_ with the state of affairs in Rome. Quietly,
and with all the respect his character merited, Cardinal Consalvi
prevailed on Mr. Jackson to quit Rome. The cardinals were assembled in
secret Consistory. Cardinal Fesch was not summoned; he was informed that
they were aware of his opinions, and that his station as ambassador
disqualified him for the Council of the holy father.

The Consistory did not deceive itself for a single instant as to the
consequences that the concessions demanded by Napoleon would forcibly draw
in their train. "We all saw," says Cardinal Consalvi in his memoirs, "that
far from admitting the neutrality of the Holy See, Bonaparte expected it
in the capacity of feudatory and vassal to take up the quarrels of France
in no matter what war the latter might subsequently be engaged. The Holy
See might then see itself, any morning or evening, attacked by Austria or
Spain, or by all the Catholic or non-Catholic powers. What! the sole
ambition or greed of France was to have the right of despoiling the holy
father of his title of the common father of the faithful, and of
compelling the representative of a God of Peace and the head of the
religious world, to sow everywhere desolation and ruin, by keeping in a
perpetual state of war the nations owing fealty to the tiara."

So many reasons, human and divine, as evident to common sense as to
conscience, decided the response of the Pope. He was moderate, tender,
prudent; but he replied categorically to the requirements of the emperor.
Pius VII wished to remain neuter, and not to drive from his states the
English or the Russians; he did not admit the claim of the emperor to
exercise over Rome a supreme protectorate. "The Pope does not recognize,
and never has recognized, any power superior to himself. Your Majesty is
infinitely great; you have been elected, crowned, consecrated, recognized
emperor of the French, but not emperor of Rome. There exists no emperor of
Rome."

There was a good deal of boldness in repelling so haughtily the imperial
pretensions; the Pope and Cardinal Consalvi were soon involved in a still
more dangerous course. The accession of the new King of Naples had been
announced to the court of Rome, by Cardinal Fesch, in arrogant terms: "The
throne of Naples being vacant by a penalty incurred by the most scandalous
perfidy of which the annals of nations have ever made mention, and his
Majesty having found himself under the necessity of shielding this
country, and the whole of Italy, from the madness of an insensate court,
has judged it suitable to his dignity to confide the destinies of this
country, which he loves, to a prince of his own house. The undersigned
doubts not but that the Pontifical Government will see in this happy event
a new guarantee of the system of order, justice, and consistency, which he
has always had at heart to establish in all the places which have
submitted to his influence."

To this circuitous demand for the recognition of Joseph Bonaparte, the
Pope replied by urging his ancient feudal rights over the kingdom of
Naples--"agreements," said Cardinal Consalvi, "which have always been
observed, especially in the case of conquests; not only at the
establishment of a new dynasty, but also at the commencement of each new
reign."

It was going very far back into history to reclaim doubtful rights.
Napoleon keenly criticised the pretension: "His Majesty needs to make no
researches to become aware of the fact that in times of ignorance the
court of Rome usurped the right of giving away crowns and temporal rights
to the princes of the earth; but if we found that in other ages the court
at Rome dethroned sovereigns, preached crusades, and laid entire kingdoms
under interdict, we should also discover that the Popes have always
considered their temporal power as springing from the French emperors; and
the court of Rome, without doubt, does not claim that Charlemagne received
from it the investiture of his kingdom. If this is to go on," added
Napoleon, brusquely abandoning his historic researches, "I shall cause
Consalvi to quit Rome, and make him responsible for what he is trying to
do, because he is evidently bought by the English. He will see whether or
not I have the power to maintain my imperial crown. Lay stress on that
word _imperial_, and not royal, and upon the fact that the relations of
the Pope with me must be those of his predecessors with the emperors of
the west." [Footnote: Draft of a note sent to Talleyrand by the emperor.]

At the same time, and as the thunder follows the lightning, the court of
Rome learnt that the threat had been followed by performance. Upon the
express order of the Emperor Napoleon, Civita Vecchia had been occupied by
two regiments of the Neapolitan army. The districts of Benevento and
Ponte-Corvo, surrounded by the kingdom of Naples, and belonging to the
Holy See, were erected into principalities in favor of Talleyrand and
Marshal Bernadotte. Cardinal Fesch was recalled. He quitted Rome after a
warm altercation with the Pope. A few days later, and in the vain hope of
ameliorating political relations becoming more and more difficult,
Cardinal Consalvi gave in his resignation. He wrote to Cardinal Caprara,
perpetual papal legate at Paris and completely subject to the imperial
authority: "If any one had told me when I was negotiating the Concordat
that in a short time I should appear to the French Government in the light
of an enemy, I should have thought I was dreaming. But I am too much
attached to the Holy See, to my sovereign, to my benefactor, and to my
country, not to consider myself as compelled to dispel by my retirement
the evils which might result from my presence. His Holiness consents to my
resignation. His object has been to satisfy the emperor, and give him a
proof of his desire to preserve harmony with his government by removing
everything that might compromise it."

The sacrifice of Cardinal Consalvi was useless, and passed unnoticed.
Napoleon required from the Holy See not only submission to his will, but
the acceptance of his principles. The caution of the court of Rome
irritated him more and more. He frightened Cardinal Caprara with a violent
scene: "Write that I demand from his Holiness a declaration without
ambiguity, stating that during the present war, and any other future war,
all the ports of the pontifical states shall be closed to all English
vessels, either of war or commerce. Without this I shall cause all the
rest of the pontifical states to be occupied, I will have the eagles fixed
up over the gates of all its cities and domains, and, as I have done for
Benevento and Ponte Corvo, I shall divide the provinces possessed by the
Pope into so many duchies and principalities, which I shall confer upon
whomsoever I please. If the Pope persists in his refusal, I will establish
a senate at Rome; and when once Rome and the pontifical states shall be in
my hands, they will never be out of them again." Already the revenues of
Civita Vecchia had been seized by Generals Lemarrois and Duhesme. "By what
right do you do this?" demanded an employe of the pontifical treasury.
"You serve a little prince and I serve a great sovereign," replied the
officer; "in that you can see all my right." Such was throughout Europe
the foundation of the right of the Emperor Napoleon. The governor of
Civita Vecchia, Mgr. Negreta, had been seized by force in his residence,
and sent back to Rome without an escort. Personal communication no longer
existed between the Pope and the emperor. The letter of Pius VII., sent by
the hands of Cardinal Caprara, remained unanswered. Alquier alone, who had
succeeded Cardinal Fesch at Rome, still informed Napoleon as to the state
of feeling there. An old Conventional, intelligent and moderate, the
Minister of France, reported to Talleyrand, then Minister of Foreign
Affairs, "People are strangely mistaken as to the character of the
sovereign pontiff, if they have thought his apparent flexibility was
yielding to all that they were striving to impress upon him. In all that
pertains to the authority of the head of the Church, he takes counsel with
himself alone. The Pope has a mild character, but very irritable, and
susceptible of displaying a firmness proof against any trial; already they
are openly saying, 'If the emperor overturns us, his successor will re-
establish us.'"

On the morrow of the battle of Jena, when the ruin of the Prussian
monarchy had added new lustre to the splendor of Napoleon's victories, the
emperor wished to make one last effort in order to establish an absolute
dominion over that little corner of Italy which still preserved an
independent sovereignty. For more than a year he had not accepted any
direct communication with the court of Rome: he commanded the attendance
of Mgr. Arezzo, Bishop _in partibus_ of Seleucia, formerly papal nuncio in
Russia, and who then happened to be at Dresden. The prelate was admitted
to the emperor at Berlin, in the cabinet of the great Frederick: he has
preserved a textual account of his conversation with Napoleon. "What did
you have to do with Russia?" "Your Majesty is aware that there are in
Russia 4,000,000 of Catholics. It is for that reason that the Pope
maintains a representative there." "The Pope ought not to have a minister
at St. Petersburg; the Greeks have always been the enemies of Rome, and I
do not know by what spirit of madness Rome can be possessed to desire the
good of its enemies rather than of its friends. You are about to quit
Dresden, and repair to Rome. You are my enemy. In the first place, you are
not a Sicilian for nothing. I do not mean by that that you have spoken
abusively of me, but you have desired that I should come to nothing, that
my armies should be beaten, and that my enemies should triumph. You are
not the only one to wish me evil; at Rome people think no better than
elsewhere. The Pope is a holy man, whom they make believe whatever they
please. They represent my demands to him under a false aspect, as Cardinal
Consalvi has done, and then the good Pope is roused up to say that he will
be killed rather than yield. Who thinks of killing him, _bon Dieu_? If he
will not take the course I wish, I will certainly deprive him of his
temporal power at Rome, but I shall always respect him as the head of the
Church. There is no necessity that the Pope should be sovereign of Rome.
The most holy Popes were not so. I shall secure him a good appanage of
three millions, upon which he can properly keep up his position; and I
shall place at Rome a king or a senator, and I shall divide his states
into so many duchies. In reality, the main point of the matter is, that I
wish the Pope to accede to the confederation; I expect him to be the
friend of my friends, and the enemy of my enemies. In fifteen days you
will be at Rome, and will peremptorily signify this to him." "Your Majesty
will permit me to repeat to him that which has been already said to him so
many times: that the Pope, being the common father of the faithful, cannot
separate himself from some to attach himself to others; and his ministry
being a ministry of peace, he cannot make war against anybody, nor declare
himself the enemy of any one whatever without failing in his duties and
compromising his sacred character." "But I do not claim at all that he
should make war against anybody. I wish him to shut his ports against the
English, and that he should not receive them into his states, and that not
being able to defend his ports and fortresses he should permit me to
defend them. Rest assured that at Rome they have lost their heads. They
have no longer there the great men of the time of Leo X. Ganganelli would
not have conducted himself in this style. I wish to be in safety in my own
house. The whole of Italy belongs to me by right of conquest. Let the Pope
do what I wish, and he will be recompensed for the past and for the
future. I only forewarn you that all must be completed before the 1st of
January: if the Pope will consent, he will lose nothing; if he will
refuse, then I shall take away his states. Excommunications are no longer
in fashion, and my soldiers will not refuse to march wherever I send them.
Call to mind Charles V., who kept the Pope prisoner, and who made him
recite prayers for him at Madrid. I shall take the same course if I am
brought to bay."

Mgr. Arezzo having asked for some prolongation of the delay: "Ah well! I
give you till February," replied the emperor; "but let everything be
finished before February." "And where will it be necessary to send the
ambassador of the Pope? to Berlin, to Warsaw, to St. Petersburg? Your
Majesty moves so quickly!" Napoleon began to laugh. "No, to Paris," said
he.

It was in fact at Paris, in the month of October, 1807, when the victory
of Friedland had delivered Russia, like Prussia, to the influence of
Napoleon, that the envoy of the Pope succeeded in obtaining an audience--
not of the emperor, but of Champagny, his new Minister of Foreign Affairs.
New difficulties had aggravated the bitterness of the relations between
France and Rome. Pius VII., however, had perceived that the requirements
of the emperor, so absolute in their harshness, would not yield to his
moderate and passive resistance. He had authorized his French
representative, the Cardinal de Bayanne, to make an important concession.
"The last demands of his Imperial Majesty," wrote Cardinal Casoni,
Minister of State, on the 14th of October, "are limited as regards the
English to the closure of the ports. The holy father has every reason to
think that his adherence ought to be limited to this closure; but if
anything else is required of him he will consent to it, provided that it
does not compel him to engage in actual war, and that it does not injure
the independence of the pontifical sovereignty. It will he desirable then
that your Eminence and the cardinal legate, to whom this despatch is
common, should be on your guard, to concert the explanation and import of
these words in order to satisfy his Imperial Majesty as the holy father
desires, but at the same time not to impose upon his Holiness an
obligation opposed to his duties and his honor."

This was a good deal to grant, and it curtailed considerably the formal
declarations of neutrality so often repeated by the court of Rome.
Napoleon required still more, and his secret thoughts were not in accord
with his public declarations. The obstacles to the free choice of an
ambassador; the requirements with regard to the full powers which were to
be conferred on Cardinal de Bayanne; the forcible hindrance to the journey
of the latter, arbitrarily detained at Milan; the systematic neglect of
his requests for an audience--clearly proved the decision taken to obtain
all or nothing--to subjugate or break the pontifical power. The last
offers of the Pope fully satisfied the demands of the emperor, as
expressed by Cardinal Fesch, Talleyrand, and Napoleon himself again and
again. Champagny declared that these concessions were no longer
sufficient. The Pope was to engage himself to make common cause with the
Emperor Napoleon, and to unite his land and sea forces with those of
France in all wars against England. The ports closed against the English;
the care of the ports of Ostia, Ancona, and Civita Vecchia confided to
France; 2000 men of the French troops maintained at Ancona at the cost of
the Holy See; and concessions without reserve on the subject of the number
of French cardinals, as of the consecration of Italian bishops--such were
the conditions of the convention presented to the Cardinal de Bayanne by
Champagny. A few other articles, treating of the spiritual power, and
which had been abandoned at the request of Cardinal Fesch, remained as a
menace suspended over the head of the negotiator, in case his submission
should not be sufficiently prompt and complete. General Lemarrois had
already taken possession of the duchy of Urbino, of the province of
Macerata, of Fermo, and Spoleto. The Cardinal de Bayanne was still
negotiating, but the order for his recall had been sent from Rome (9th of
November, 1807). "God and the world will do us justice against the
proceedings of the emperor, let them be what they may," wrote Pius VII.

The exactions of Champagny had heaped up a measure which was already
overflowing. In full Consistory, and without any hesitation on the part of
either Pope or cardinals, the proposals were unanimously rejected. "This
is the fruit of our journey to Paris, of our patience, of the forbearance
which has led us to make so many sacrifices, to suffer so many
humiliations. If such pretensions are persisted in, you must immediately
demand your passport, and come away." Such were the instructions sent on
the 2nd of December to the Cardinal de Bayanne by the holy father. The
orders sent by the emperor to his agents did not wait long for a response.
Already for some time past very considerable forces had been grouped to
the north and south of the pontifical states, under the orders of General
Miollis. Six thousand Frenchmen were destined for this expedition. A
Neapolitan column of 3000 men was to occupy Terracina. All the movements
of the troops had been carefully calculated and foreseen; the care of
watching over their execution was confided to Prince Eugene and the King
of Naples. The emperor wrote to Champagny on the 22nd of January, 1808:

"On the 25th of January the French army will be at Perugia; on the 3rd of
February it will be at Rome. The express, setting out on the 25th, will
arrive at Rome on the 1st of February, and will thus carry your orders to
Signer Alquier two days before the troops arrive. You ought to make known
to Signer Alquier that General Miollis, who commands my troops, and who
appears to be directing his course towards Naples, will stay at Rome and
take possession of the castle of St. Angelo. When Signer Alquier shall
become aware that the troops are at the gate of Rome, he shall present to
the Cardinal Secretary of State the subjoined note: 'The arrival of
General Miollis has for its aim the protection of the rearguard of the
army of Naples. On his way, he presents himself at Rome to give force to
the measures which the emperor has resolved on taking to purge this city
of the scoundrels to whom it has given asylum, and consequently to all the
enemies of France.' You will put in cipher in your despatch the following
paragraph: 'The intention of the emperor is to accustom by this note, and
by these proceedings, the people of Rome and the French troops to live
together, in order that if the court of Rome should continue to show
itself as insensate as it now is, it might insensibly cease to exist as a
temporal power without any notice being taken of it.' Nevertheless, whilst
desiring to avoid disturbance, and to leave things _in statu quo_, I am
prepared to take strong measures the first time the Pope indulges in any
bull or manifesto; for a decree shall be immediately published, revoking
the gift of Charlemagne, and reuniting the states of the Church to the
kingdom of Italy, furnishing proofs of the evils that religion has
suffered through the sovereignty of Rome, and making apparent the contrast
between Jesus Christ dying on the cross and His successor making himself a
king!"

It was not without a certain uneasiness that the emperor was preparing
thus to use violence against an unarmed sovereign, and historical decrees
were not the only arms on which he expected to rely. "The slightest
insurrection that may break out," wrote he to Prince Eugene (February 7th,
1808), "must be repressed with grape-shot, if necessary, and severe
examples must be made."

No insurrection broke out; the Pope and his followers had resolved upon
giving to the world a startling demonstration of the material
powerlessness of the Holy See in presence of brute force. Whilst General
Miollis was entering Rome, on February 2nd, 1808, at eight o'clock in the
morning, disarming the pontifical troops in order to seize upon the Castle
of St. Angelo, the Pope was officiating in the chapel of the Quirinal,
surrounded by the Sacred College. The palace was invested by the troops,
and cannon were pointed at the walls; the cardinals went forth without
tumult or protest. The French officers were not a little surprised to see
them get into their carriages and retire without letting any trace of
annoyance be visible on their countenances. [Footnote: Memoirs of Cardinal
Pacca.]

Only a protest by the holy father, conceived in the most moderate terms,
was affixed to the walls of Rome: "Not having been able to comply with all
the demands which have been made to him on the part of the French
Government, because the voice of his conscience and his sacred duties
forbade it, his Holiness Pius VII. has believed it his duty to submit to
the disastrous consequences with which he has been threatened as the
result of his refusal, and even the military occupation of his capital.
Resigned in the humility of his heart to the unsearchable judgments of
heaven, he commits his cause into the hands of God; but at the same time,
unwilling to fail in his essential obligations to guarantee the rights of
his sovereignty, he has given orders to protest, as he protests daily,
against every usurpation of his dominions, his will being that the rights
of the Holy See should be and remain always intact."

The times of supreme violence had not yet come, and the emperor himself
had not perhaps foreseen to what extremities he would be led, by the
aggression he had just committed, and the underhand struggle he had been
maintaining for three years against the conscientious will of an unarmed
old man. However, the habitual roughness of his arbitrary proceedings did
not fail to manifest themselves from the beginning. Champagny had been
ordered to declare to the Cardinal de Bayanne that the French soldiers
established at Rome would remain there until the Pope should have entered
into the Italian Confederation, and should have consented to make common
cause with the powers composing it, in every case and against all enemies.
"This condition is the _sine qua non_ of his Majesty's proposal. If the
Pope does not accept it, his Majesty will not know how to recognize his
temporal sovereignty. He has decided to transfer the power of Rome into
secular hands."

At the same time, and as a necessary commentary on these imperious
injunctions, the foreign cardinals in the pontifical states received
orders from Napoleon to quit Rome. The Neapolitan cardinals, to the number
of seven, had up to that time refused to take an oath to King Joseph. At
the first news of the measure which threatened them, the Pope ordered them
to remain near himself, "for the service of the Holy See;" they were
seized in their houses, and conducted to the frontiers of the kingdom of
Naples by gendarmes. On March 10th the same order was addressed by the
emperor to the vice-King of Italy for fourteen new members of the Sacred
College. "Let Litta return to Milan; let the Genoese return to Genoa, the
Italians to the kingdom of Italy, the Piedmontese to Piedmont, the
Neapolitans to Naples. This measure is to be executed by fair means or
foul. Since it is the cardinals who have lost the states of the Church by
their evil counsels, let them return every one to his own place." Cardinal
Casoni, till recently Secretary of State to the Pope, and Cardinal Doria
Pamphili, now officiating--the one born at Sarzana, the other a Genoese--
were prevented by this interdiction from living in the Roman States.
Alquier, the minister of France, was quietly recalled to Paris; a simple
secretary of legation remained at Rome to represent the diplomatic
service. General Miollis well seconded the intentions of the emperor with
regard to the Holy See. Against the advice of his counsellors, the Pope
sent to Cardinal Caprara an order to quit Paris. "Violence has been
resorted to," wrote Pius VII. to his easygoing legate, "even to laying
hands on four of our cardinals and conducting them to Naples in the midst
of an armed force; an excess which only requires the violation of our own
personal freedom for the scandal to be complete. We cannot, by the
residence of our representative with the French Government, give occasion
for thinking any longer that we are not deeply wounded by the persecution
we have been made to suffer, and the oppression manifested towards the
Holy See. Our intention is, then, if our capital is not without delay
evacuated by the French troops, that you should demand your passports, and
that you should set out with the Cardinal de Bayanne, our legate
extraordinary, in order to come and share with us and your brothers the
lot which is reserved for us."

I wished to tell in some detail the relations of Napoleon with the court
of Rome, because they clearly point out the first steps decidedly taken
along a path that grew more and more daring. Conquest had for a long time
borne its bitter fruits. Conquered sovereigns had submitted to the yoke
and to the haughty requirements of the conqueror; such was the absolute
right of victory, and those who suffered from it recognized a power which
in all time had belonged to the conqueror. The emperor henceforth went
much further than this; he did not confine himself to fighting,
conquering, and dispossessing those he had vanquished, and dividing their
spoils. He began at Rome to impose his arbitrary caprices upon a prince
who had never taken up arms against him. At the same time, and by a
manoeuvre concocted in the most masterly manner, and yet most inexcusable,
he was about to dethrone a king, his ally, humbly submissive to his power
and his exactions. The throne of Spain was the only one still occupied by
a prince of the house of Bourbon. Napoleon had resolved upon seating a
Bonaparte upon it. Already the troops destined for this enterprise were
quitting Paris, marching, without knowing it, towards long disasters.
Yielding to the irresistible impulses of absolute power without limits and
without a curb, Napoleon was led into having recourse to every description
of violence, and making use of every kind of perfidy. He wished to be
everywhere and always obeyed. For six years past no one had resisted his
will without being crushed; he was at last about to meet with a check--at
Rome, in the conscience of the Pope; in Spain, in the passions of an
aroused people.

The situation of Spain had for a long time been sad and wretched. Governed
by a favorite, whose crimes he ignored, King Charles IV. had abandoned
power into the hands of the Prince de la Paix. At his side, and in a
condition of suspicion which resembled captivity, the heir to the throne,
Ferdinand, Prince of Asturias, had become the idol of the people, as a
consequence of the scorn and aversion inspired by the favorite. The young
prince, weak and cunning, submissive in his turn to his old tutor, the
Canon Escoiquiz, was carrying on underhand intrigues with a few great
lords who were devoted to him. He had attached to himself Beauharnais, the
ambassador of France, an upright and sincere man, with no great political
penetration. The little council of the prince had thought themselves
capable of concluding an alliance between Ferdinand and the all-powerful
sovereign of France. On the 11th of October, 1807, the Prince of Asturias
sent by Beauharnais a letter addressed to the "hero who threw into the
shade all those who had preceded him;" Ferdinand solicited the hand of a
princess of the imperial house.

It was the moment of the negotiation of the treaty of Fontainebleau and
the anticipated partition of Portugal. On the same day on which the
signatures were exchanged (October 27th, 1807) the Prince of Asturias, for
a long time suspected of criminal intrigues, was arrested at Madrid, as
well as his accomplices. On the 29th, King Charles IV. wrote to the
emperor, in order to make him acquainted with the sad discovery which had
just wounded all his paternal sentiments. "I pray your Majesty," added the
unfortunate monarch, "to aid me with your knowledge and advice."

The troops that were to enter Spain were ready, and the first movement of
Napoleon was to march them forward immediately. The trouble existing in
the royal house afforded a ready excuse for an intervention entreated at
once by both father and son. The King of Spain himself invoked assistance.
The army of the Gironde was immediately reinforced and provisioned. A
second corps was already preparing, but the Prince de la Paix discovered
in the correspondence of Ferdinand the proof of his relations with
Beauharnais. He did not wish to compromise his principality of Algarve by
exciting the anger of Napoleon: the Prince of Asturias was exempted from
the law, and his pardon solemnly proclaimed in an official decree by
Charles IV. Only his accomplices were prosecuted, but the tribunals
acquitted them. Meanwhile the army of the Gironde, under General Dupont,
had entered Spain. The corps for watching the sea coasts, commanded by
Marshal Moncey, followed in the same direction. Other detachments seized
upon the fortresses of the frontiers. "On arriving at Pampeluna, General
Duhesme will take possession of the town," wrote the emperor to General
Clarke, Minister of War (January 28th, 1808), "and without making any show
he will occupy the citadel and the fortifications, treating the
commandants and the inhabitants with the greatest courtesy, making no
movement, and saying that he is expecting further orders."

The orders were not long in arriving; 100,000 men of the grand army were
effecting a backward movement, approaching France, and consequently Spain.
At the same time, Joachim Murat, the living hero of hazardous and doubtful
enterprises, had just been appointed general-in-chief of the armies in
Spain. His instructions were all military. "Do not disturb in any manner
the division of Duhesme," wrote the emperor to his lieutenant, on the 16th
of March, 1808; "leave that where it is. It guards Barcelona and holds
that province, and fulfils its purpose sufficiently. When the 3000 men of
the reinforcement who are about to rejoin this division, and who will be
at Barcelona towards the 5th or 6th of April, shall have arrived, it will
be another thing. Then he will have an army capable of carrying him
anywhere. At the moment when you receive this letter, the head of General
Verdier's corps will touch the borders of Spain, and General Merle ought
to find himself at Burgos. Continue to speak smooth words. Reassure the
king, the Prince de la Paix, the Prince of Asturias, and the queen. The
great thing is to arrive at Madrid, and there let your troops rest, and
replenish their stores of provisions. Say that I am soon coming in order
to reconcile and arrange matters; above all, do not commit any
hostilities, if it can possibly be helped. I hope that everything may be
arranged, and it would be dangerous to scare these folks too much."

Murat had conceived intoxicating hopes which did not tend to the
tranquillity of the Spanish court. He had asked for political
instructions, which were refused to him. "What I do not tell you is what
you ought not to know," wrote Napoleon to his lieutenant. Uneasiness and
fear reigned in the household of the king, under the outside show of
welcome lavished on the French soldiers. Already the Prince de la Paix was
preparing for the flight of the royal family. That which the house of
Braganza had done by setting out for Brazil, the house of Bourbon could do
by taking refuge in Peru. The departure of the court for Seville was
announced; it was the first step in a longer journey, of which the project
had not yet been revealed to Charles IV. The royal family were besides
profoundly divided. The Prince of Asturias swore that he would not quit
Aranjuez; his uncle Don Antonio supported him in resistance. A few of the
ministers were seemingly throwing off the yoke of the Prince de la Paix.
The Marquis of Caballero, the Minister of Justice, refused to sign the
orders necessary for the departure. "I command it," said the Prince de la
Paix imperiously. "I only receive orders from the king," said the Spanish
nobleman in a tone to which the favorite was not accustomed.

Meanwhile the population of Madrid, and the peasants in the environs of
Aranjuez, were stirred up by the reports of the departure which circulated
in the country; the preparations carried on by the confidants of the
Prince de la Paix, excited much anger and uneasiness. An agitated and
inquisitive crowd ceaselessly surrounded the palace, carefully watching
all the movements of the inmates: a proclamation of the King, promising
not to withdraw, did not suffice to allay suspicion. On the night of March
17th, a veiled lady came forth from the house of the Prince de la Paix to
a carriage which was waiting for her. The multitude thought they had
discovered a prelude to the departure; all hands were extended to stay the
fugitive. In the struggle a shot was fired; the crowd immediately rushed
forward, forcing the gates, and overturning the guards who protected the
palace of the favorite. In an instant his dwelling was pillaged, his art
treasures destroyed, his tapestries torn up and scattered to the winds. We
have been witnesses of the sorrowful results of popular fury. The Princess
de la Paix alone, trembling for her life in the palace where her just
pride had so often suffered, was spared by the vengeance of the multitude;
they brought her in triumph to the house of the king. "Behold innocence!"
cried the people. The Prince de la Paix had disappeared.

They were seeking for him thirty-six hours, and the anxiety of the king
and queen was becoming insupportable; both loudly demanded their favorite.
With a view of turning away the anger of the people from his head, Charles
IV. issued an edict depriving Emanuel Godoy, Prince de la Paix, of all his
offices and dignities, and authorizing him to choose for himself the place
of his retreat. The favorite had more correctly estimated the hatred
excited against himself; he had sought no other retreat than a loft in his
palace. There, rolled up in a mat, with a few pieces of gold in his hands,
he waited for the moment to take his flight. On March 19th, at ten o'clock
in the morning; as he attempted to escape secretly, he was perceived by a
soldier of that guard to which he had formerly belonged; immediately
arrested, he was dragged to a guard-house. When he at length reached this
sad refuge he was bruised and bleeding, from the blows showered upon him
by all those who could reach him through the crowding ranks of the
multitude and the barriers formed by the soldiers. At the barracks where
the Prince de la Paix lay on the straw, the Prince of Asturias came to
seek him out in the name of his parents, and to promise him his life. "Art
thou already king, that thou canst thus dispense pardon?" asked Godoy,
with a bitter perception of the change which had been effected in the
position of the prince as in his own. "No," replied Ferdinand, "but I soon
shall be."

The royal uneasiness did not permit them long to leave the favorite in a
guard-house, a prey to the insults and ill-usage of the populace; the king
and queen remained obstinately faithful to their friend. A coach was got
ready to take him away to a place of safety; as soon as it appeared, the
people threw themselves upon the carriage and broke it up. When the noise
reached the palace the old king burst into tears: "My people no longer
love me!" cried he; "I will no longer reign over them. I shall abdicate in
favor of my son." The queen's mind was occupied with no other thought than
the safety of Godoy; she thought it assured by this renunciation of the
throne, and willingly set her hands to it. The act of abdication was
immediately made public, and saluted, at Madrid as at Aranjuez, by the
transports of the multitude. Henceforth King Ferdinand VII. was alone
surrounded by the courtiers; his aged father remained abandoned in the
palace of Aranjuez. Murat was already approaching Madrid, and all eyes
were turned towards him as towards the forerunner of the supreme arbiter.
Ferdinand VII. hastened to send emissaries to him. The Queen of Etruria,
who had only just reached her parents, wrote to him conjuring him to come
to Aranjuez, to judge for himself of the situation. On March 25th, 1808,
the French army made its entry into the capital.

The popular insurrection which had overthrown the Prince de la Paix and
provoked the abdication of Charles IV., had thwarted the plans of Napoleon
so far as his lieutenant was able to divine them. The flight of the royal
family would have left the throne of Spain vacant, and Murat had cherished
the hope of posing as a liberator of the Spanish nation, delivered from
the yoke so long imposed on it by a miserable favorite. In the presence of
a new and popular royalty, born of a patriotic sentiment, Murat
comprehended for the first time the necessity of reserve and prudence. The
distrust of the new monarch as regards fallen royalty, the anger and ill-
will of the parents as regards the son who had dethroned them, were to
bring both parties before the powerful protector who had been wise enough
beforehand to effect a military occupation of their country. It was
important to remain free, and to prepare for war with King Ferdinand VII.
The popular passion naturally offered a point of support against Charles
IV., his wife, and his favorite. Montyon, aide-de-camp to Murat, repaired
to Aranjuez, counselling the old king to draw up a protest against the
violence of which he had been the victim. Until then, the queen in the
letters which she had addressed to Napoleon and to Murat, had only asked
for a place in which to lay her head: "Let the grand duke prevail upon the
emperor to give to the king my husband, to myself, and to the Prince de la
Paix, sufficient for all three to subsist upon in a place good for our
health, free from oppression or intrigues." At the instigation of Murat,
and not without some hesitation, Charles IV. declared that he had only
abdicated in order to avoid greater evils, and to prevent the effusion of
the blood of his subjects, "which rendered the act null and of no effect."
Murat at the same time made use of the friendship and confidence which had
long existed between Beauharnais and Ferdinand VII., to suggest to this
prince the idea of presenting himself before the emperor and asking
sanction for his royal authority. The Spanish troops received orders to
effect a retrograde movement, and the new monarch solemnly entered into
Madrid on the 24th of March, amidst impassioned cries of joy from the
populace.

The lieutenant had well divined the idea of the imperious master from whom
he was separated by a distance that perilously retarded his orders. The
emperor had heard the news of the royal departure for Seville and for
America. He had written, on March 23rd, the same day upon which Murat had
watered Madrid in the footprints of the revolutions: "I suppose I am about
to receive the news of all that will have taken place at Madrid on the
17th and 18th of March." Unforeseen events having occurred, he wrote to
Murat on the 27th: "You are to prevent any harm from being done, either to
the king or queen or to the Prince de la Paix. If the latter is brought to
trial, I imagine that I shall be consulted. You are to tell M. de
Beauharnais that I desire him to intervene, and that this affair should be
hushed up. Until the new king is recognized by me you are to act as if the
old king was still reigning; on that point you are to await my orders. As
I have already commanded you, maintain good order at Madrid; prevent any
extraordinary warlike preparations. Employ M. de Beauharnais in all this
until my arrival, which you are to declare to be imminent. You are always
saying that you have no instructions; I give you them every time; I tell
you to keep your troops well rested, to replenish your commissariat, and
not to prejudice the question in any way. It seems to me that you have no
need to know anything more."

The political instructions were to reach Murat through the agency of
General Savary, often charged by the emperor with delicate missions
requiring absolute and unscrupulous devotion. On seizing by stratagem the
fortress of Pampeluna, General Darmagnac had frankly said, "This is dirty
work." General Savary obeyed without reserve, always absorbed in the
enterprise confided to him, and never letting himself be turned aside by
any obstacle. The emperor wrote on the 30th of March to the Grand Duke of
Berg:--

"I received your letters with those of the King of Spain. Snatch the
Prince de la Paix from the hands of these people. My intention is that no
harm shall be done to him, since he is two leagues from Madrid and almost
in your reach; I shall be much vexed to hear that any evil has happened to
him.

"The king says that he will repair to your camp; I wait to know that he is
in safety, in order to make known to you my intentions.  You have done
well in not recognizing the Prince of Asturias.

"You are to place King Charles IV. at the Escurial, to treat him with the
greatest respect, to declare that he continues always to rule in Spain,
until I shall have recognized the revolution.

"I strongly approve your conduct in these unforeseen circumstances. I
suppose you will not have allowed the Prince de la Paix to perish, and
that you will not have permitted King Charles to go Badajoz. If he is
still in your hands, you must dissemble with Beauharnais, and say that you
cannot recognize the Prince of Asturias, whom I have not recognized; that
it is necessary to let King Charles come to the Escurial; that the first
thing I shall require on my arrival will be to see him. Take all measures
not to have his life in jeopardy. I hope the position in which you find
yourself will have led you to adopt a sound policy."

On the 27th of March, three days before ordering Murat to hold the balance
suspended between father and son, Napoleon had written to the King of
Holland, Louis Bonaparte: "My brother, the King of Spain has just
abdicated; the Prince de la Paix has been thrown into prison. The
commencement of an insurrection has broken forth at Madrid. On that
occasion my troops were forty leagues away from Madrid. The Grand Duke of
Berg was to enter on the 23rd with 40,000 men. Up to this time the people
loudly call for me. Certain that I should have no solid peace with England
except by effecting a great change on the continent, I have resolved to
place a French prince upon the throne of Spain. The climate of Holland
does not suit you. Besides, Holland would never know how to emerge from
its ruins. In this whirlwind of the world, whether we have peace or not,
there are no means by which Holland can sustain herself. In this state of
things, I think of you for the throne of Spain. You will be the sovereign
of a generous nation, of 11,000,000 of men, and of important colonies.
With economy and activity, Spain could have 60,000 men under arms and
fifty vessels in her ports. You perceive that this is still only a
project, and that, although I have 100,000 men in Spain, it is possible,
according to the circumstances that may arise, either that I may march
directly, and that all may be accomplished in a fortnight, or that I may
march more slowly, and that this may be a secret during several months of
operations. Answer me categorically. If I appoint you King of Spain, do
you agree? Can I count upon you? Answer me only these two words: 'I have
received your letter of such date; I answer Yes;' and then I shall
conclude that you will do what I wish; or, otherwise, 'No,' which will
give me to understand that you do not agree to my proposition. Do not take
anyone into your confidence, and do not speak to anyone whatever as to the
purport of this letter, for a thing must be done before we confess to
having thought of it."

Full of these resolves, which he had not yet completely revealed to his
most intimate confidants, the emperor quitted Paris on the 2nd of April.
He was expected in Spain, and he had announced his arrival over and over
again, but his purpose was not to push forward his journey so far.
Already, at the instigation of General Savary, who knowingly seconded the
advice innocently given by Beauharnais, the new king had resolved upon
presenting himself before Napoleon. The latter was equally expecting the
arrival of the Prince de la Paix, the bearer of messages from the king,
Charles IV., and the queen. The emperor had written on his behalf to
Marshal Bessieres, recommending him to protect the progress of the
formerly all-powerful favorite. "I have not to complain of him in any
way," said he; "he is only sent into France for his safety; reassure him
by all means." The counsellors of Ferdinand VII. refused to allow the
Prince de la Paix to set out; he was regarded as a hostage. The young king
had vainly solicited from his father a letter of introduction to Napoleon.
"In this letter," said he, "you will felicitate the emperor on his
arrival, and you bear witness that I have the same sentiments with regard
to him that you have always shown." Anger and distrust remained very
powerful in the little court of Aranjuez. Ferdinand VII. set out on the
10th of April, accompanied by General Savary, who lavished upon him the
royal titles rigorously refused by Murat. The emperor had given similar
instructions to Bessieres. "Without entering into the political question,
on those occasions on which you will be compelled to speak of the Prince
of Asturias do not call him Ferdinand VII.; evade the difficulty by
calling those who rule at Madrid the government." A junta, or Council of
State, had been formed at Madrid, under the presidency of the Infanta Don
Antonio, in order to direct affairs in the absence of the new monarch. The
latter had already arrived at Burgos.

Napoleon had not yet passed Bordeaux, where he remained a few days,
designedly vying in delay with the Spanish court. He wrote on the 10th of
April to Murat: "If the Prince of Asturias presents himself at Burgos and
at Bayonne, he will have kept his word. When the end that I propose to
myself, and with which Savary will have made you acquainted, is
accomplished, you will be able to declare verbally and in all
conversations that my intention is not only to preserve the integrity of
the provinces and the independence of the country, but also the privileges
of all classes, and that I will pledge myself to do that; that I am
desirous of seeing Spain happy, and in such circumstances that I may never
see it an object of dread to France. Those who wish for a liberal
government and the regeneration of Spain will find them in my plan; those
who fear the return of the queen and the Prince de la Paix may be
reassured, since those individuals will have no influence and no credit.
The nobles who wish for consideration and honors which they did not have
in the past administration, will find them. Good Spaniards who wish for
tranquillity and a wise administration, will find these advantages in a
system which will maintain the integrity and independence of the Spanish
monarchy."

Perhaps some provision of the _system_ that the Emperor Napoleon was
projecting had crossed the mind of Ferdinand VII. and of his counsellors;
perhaps the Spanish pride was wounded by the little eagerness to set foot
in Spain shown by the all-powerful sovereign of the French. Certain it is
that General Savary, who had had much difficulty in persuading Ferdinand
VII. to decide on pursuing his journey beyond Burgos, failed in his
efforts to induce him to quit Vittoria. The behavior of the general became
rude and haughty. "I set out for Bayonne," said he; "you will have
occasion to regret your decision." Napoleon arrived, in fact, at Bayonne a
few hours after his envoy.

Two days later General Savary retook the road to Vittoria, $he bearer of a
letter from the emperor for the _Prince of Asturias_.

"My brother, I have received the letter of your Royal Highness. You ought
to have found proof, by the papers which you have had from the king your
father, of the interest I have always taken in him. You will permit me,
under the circumstances, to speak to you freely and faithfully. On
arriving at Madrid I was hoping to induce my illustrious friend to accept
a few reforms necessary in his states, and to give some satisfaction to
public opinion. The dismissal of the Prince de la Paix appeared to me
necessary for his happiness and that of his subjects. The affairs of the
north have retarded my journey. The events of Aranjuez have taken place. I
am not the judge of what has passed, and of the conduct of the Prince de
la Paix; but I know well that it is dangerous for kings to accustom their
people to shed blood and do justice for themselves. I pray God that your
Royal Highness may not one day have to make the experiment. How could you
bring the Prince de la Paix to trial without including with him the queen,
and your father the king? He has no longer any friends. Your Royal
Highness will have none if ever you are unfortunate. The people willingly
avenge themselves for the honor they render to us. I have often manifested
a desire that the Prince de la Paix should be withdrawn from affairs; the
friendship of King Charles has as often induced me to hold my tongue and
turn away my eyes from the weakness of his attachment. Miserable men that
we are! feebleness and error are our mottoes. But all this can be set
right. Let the Prince de la Paix be exiled from Spain, and I will offer
him a refuge in France. As to the abdication of Charles IV., it took place
at a moment when my armies covered Spain, and in the eyes of Europe and of
posterity I should appear to have despatched so many troops only to
precipitate from the throne my ally and friend. As a neighboring sovereign
it is permitted me to wish to become fully acquainted with this abdication
before recognizing it. I say to your Royal Highness, to the Spaniards, to
the entire world, If the abdication of King Charles is a spontaneous
movement, if it has not been forced upon him by the insurrection and the
mob of Aranjuez, I make no difficulty about admitting it, and I recognize
your Royal Highness as King of Spain. I desire then to talk with you on
this point. When King Charles informed me of the occurrence of October
last I was sorrowfully affected by it.

"Your Royal Highness has been much in the wrong: I did not require as a
proof of it the letter you wrote to me, and which I have always wished to
ignore. Should you be a king in your turn you would know how sacred are
the rights of the throne; any application to a foreign sovereign on the
part of an hereditary prince is criminal. As regards the marriage of a
French princess with your Royal Highness, I hold it would be conformable
to the interests of my people, and above all a circumstance which would
attach me by new bonds to a family that has won nothing but praises from
me since I ascended the throne. Your Royal Highness ought to mistrust the
outbreaks of popular emotions; they may be able to commit a few murders on
my isolated soldiers, but the ruin of Spain would be the result of it.
Your Highness understands my thoughts fully; you see that I am floating
between diverse ideas, that require to be fixed. You may be certain that
in any case I shall comport myself towards you as towards the king your
father."

On receiving this letter, by turns menacing and caressing, and on
listening to the commentaries with which General Savary accompanied it,
the prince and his followers still hesitated to advance beyond the
frontiers. The repugnance manifested by the population became every day
more intense. Urquijo, one of the oldest and wisest counsellors of King
Charles IV., insisted upon the advantages that Napoleon would realize by
counterbalancing the claims of the son by those of the father, and by thus
placing the peninsula under the laws of the general system of the French
Empire. He asserted that the intention was already apparent under the
words used, official and private, and that Ferdinand would lose himself,
and lose Spain, in repairing to Bayonne. "What!" cried the Duc de
l'Infantado, for a long time an accomplice in all the intrigues of the
Prince of Asturias, "what! would a hero surrounded with so much glory
descend to the basest of perfidies?" "You do not understand heroes,"
replied Urquijo, bitterly. "You have not read Plutarch. The greatest
amongst them have raised their greatness upon heaps of corpses. What did
our own Charles V. do in Germany and Italy, and in Spain itself? I do not
go back to the most wicked of our princes. Posterity takes no account of
means."

This counsel was too prudent and wise to prevail with minds at once
headstrong and feeble. Ferdinand resolved to trust to the hopes that
Napoleon caused to gleam before his eyes; he knew not that his retreat was
cut off. "If the prince comes to Bayonne," the emperor had written to
Marshal Bessieres, "it is very well; if he retires to Burgos, you will
have him arrested, and conducted to Bayonne. You will inform the Grand
Duke of Berg of this occurrence; and you will make it known at Burgos that
King Charles has protested, and that the Prince of Asturias is not king.
If he refuses the interview that I propose, it is a sign of his belonging
to the English party, and then there will be nothing more to arrange." On
the 20th of April the prince and his suite crossed the little river of the
Bidassoa. As he was leaving Vittoria, the crowd assembled in the streets
became violent, and cut the traces of the horses. In order to avoid a
popular riot, the squadrons of the imperial guard had to surround the
carriage of the prince; he set out from his states as if already a
prisoner.

It was as a suppliant that he arrived at Bayonne, and the sorrowful
impression he had experienced on passing the frontier increased as he drew
nigh to the end of his journey. There was no one on his road to meet him
or compliment him, save the three Spanish noblemen whom he had himself
sent to Napoleon, and who returned to their prince troubled with the
gloomiest presentiments. Marshals Duroc and Berthier received him,
however, with courtesy when he arrived at Bayonne, and the emperor soon
had him brought to the chateau of Marac, in which he himself was
installed. Carrying out his previous declaration, Napoleon would give to
his visitor no other title than that of Prince of Asturias. At the end of
the day, General Savary escorted Ferdinand to his apartment; the emperor
kept beside himself Canon Escoiquiz.

The hour for revelations had arrived. Napoleon took the trouble to develop
to the canon preceptor his reasons for depriving the house of Bourbon of
the throne, and for placing upon it a prince of the Bonaparte family. "I
will give Etruria to Prince Ferdinand in exchange," said he; "it is a fine
country; he will be happy and tranquil. The populace will perhaps rebel on
a few points, but I have on my side religion and the monks. I have had
experience of it, and the countries where there are plenty of monks are
easy to subjugate."

Napoleon paced to and fro in his room, sometimes stopping in front of the
canon, whom he terrified by his flashing glances and by the extreme
animation of his language, sometimes according to him one of those
familiar and waggish gestures which were the signs of his favor. The
unfortunate Escoiquiz sought in vain to defend the cause of his prince,
making the most of his merits and his personal attachment to the emperor,
and pledging his submission if he became sovereign of Spain and an ally of
the imperial family. "You are telling me stories, canon," replied
Napoleon. "You are too well informed to be ignorant of the fact that a
woman is too feeble a bond to determine the political conduct of a prince:
and who will guarantee that you will be near him in six months' time. All
this is only bad politics. Your Bourbons have never served me except
against their will. They have always been ready to betray me. A brother
will be worth more to me, whatever you say about it. The regeneration of
Spain is impossible in their hands; they will be always, in spite of
themselves, the support of ancient abuses. My part is decided on; the
revolution must be accomplished. Spain will not lose a village, and I have
taken my precautions as to the colonies. Let your prince decide before the
arrival of King Charles relative to the exchange of his rights against
Tuscany. If he accepts, the treaty will be concluded; if he refuses, it is
of little consequence, for I shall obtain from his father the cession that
I require, Tuscany will remain in possession of France, and his royal
highness will receive no indemnity."

The canon covered his face with his hands. "Alas!" cried he, "what will be
said of us who counselled our prince to come hither?" The emperor again
reassured him. "Do not annoy yourself, canon," said he; "neither you nor
the others have any cause to afflict yourselves. You could not divine my
intentions, for nobody was acquainted with them. Go and find your prince."

General Savary displayed less eloquence and power of persuasion in
announcing to the unfortunate Ferdinand the intentions of the emperor,
whom he had on his part so adroitly served. The prince was utterly
astounded when his old preceptor entered his room. The intimate
counsellors were convoked; they persisted in seeing in the declaration of
Napoleon a daring manoeuvre intended to terrify the house of Spain into
some important cession of territory. The prince formally refused to accept
the kingdom of Etruria; he maintained that the rights of the crown of
Spain were unalienable; he possessed them by consent of his father Charles
IV., who alone could dispute the throne with him. Two negotiators were
successively commissioned to carry this reply to Champagny, the Minister
for Foreign Affairs.

The latter had just drawn up a report for the emperor, deciding upon
taking possession of Spain. "We must recommence the work of Louis XIV.,"
it said. "That which policy counsels, justice authorizes. The present
circumstances do not permit your Majesty to refrain from intervention in
the affairs of this kingdom. The King of Spain has been precipitated from
his throne. Your Majesty is called upon to judge between the father and
son: which part will you take? Would you sacrifice the cause of sovereigns
and of all fathers, and permit an outrage to be done to the majesty of the
throne? Would you leave upon the throne of Spain a prince who will not be
able to preserve himself from the yoke of the English, so that your
Majesty will have constantly to maintain a large army in Spain? If, on the
contrary, your Majesty is determined to replace Charles IV. on the throne,
you know that it could not be done without having to overcome great
resistance, nor without causing French blood to flow. Lastly, could your
Majesty, taking no interest in these great differences, abandon the
Spanish nation to its doom, when already a violent fermentation is
agitating it, and England is sowing there the seeds of trouble and
anarchy? Ought your Majesty then to leave this new prey to be devoured by
the English? Certainly not. Thus your Majesty, compelled to undertake the
regeneration of Spain, in a manner useful for her and useful for France,
ought neither to re-establish at the price of much blood a dethroned king,
nor to sanction the revolt of his son, nor to abandon Spain to itself; for
in these two last cases it would be to deliver it to the English, who by
their gold and their intrigues have succeeded in tearing and rending this
country, and thus you would assure their triumph.

"I have set forth to your Majesty the circumstances which compel you to
come to a great determination. Policy counsels it, justice authorizes it,
the troubles of Spain impose it as a necessity. Your Majesty has to
provide for the safety of your empire, and save Spain from the influence
of the English."

Even the most resolute and scrupulous men love to be bolstered up with
words, and to surround themselves with vain pretexts. The Emperor
Napoleon, resolved on robbing the house of Bourbon of a throne which had
become suspected by him, had asked from Champagny an explanatory memoir,
and took care to pose as an arbitrator between King Charles IV. and his
son, in order to cover his perfidy with a mantle of distributive justice.
He had already apprised Murat of his desire to see the old sovereign of
Spain before him; the request of Charles IV. and his queen forestalled
this proposal. The lieutenant-general had at last snatched away the Prince
de la Paix from the hands which detained him. The favorite had taken
refuge under the wing of Murat, in the most pitiable condition. "The
Prince de la Paix arrives this evening," wrote Napoleon to Talleyrand on
the 25th of April; "he has been for a month between life and death, always
menaced with the latter. Would you believe it that, in this interval, he
has never changed his shirt, and has a beard seven inches long? The most
absurd calumnies have been laid to his charge. Cause articles to be
written, not justifying the Prince de la Paix, but depicting in characters
of fire the evils of popular insurrections, and drawing forth pity for
this unfortunate man. It will be as well for him not to delay his arrival
in Paris." On the 1st of May, after the arrival of the entire royal
family: "The Prince de la Paix is here. King Charles is a brave man. I
know not whether it is his position or circumstances, but he has the air
of a frank and good patriarch. The queen has her heart and history on her
countenance; that is enough to say to you; it surpasses everything that it
is permitted to imagine. The Prince de la Paix has the air of a bull. He
is beginning to feel himself again; he has been treated with unexampled
barbarity. It will be well for him to be discharged from all false
imputations, but it will be necessary to leave him covered by a slight
touch of contempt.

"The Prince of Asturias is very stupid, very evilly disposed, very much
the enemy of the French. You readily perceive that with my practice in
managing men his experience of twenty-four years has not been able to
impose upon me; and this is so evident to me, that it would take a long
war to bring me to recognize him as King of Spain. Moreover, I have had it
notified to him that I ought not to hold communications with him, King
Charles being upon my frontiers. I have consequently had his couriers
arrested. One of them was the bearer of a letter to Don Antonio: 'I
forewarn you that the emperor has in his hands a letter from Maria Louisa
(the Queen of Etruria, his sister), which states that the abdication of my
father was forced. Act as if you did not know this, but conduct yourself
accordingly, and strive to prevent these accursed Frenchmen from gaining
any advantage by their wickedness.'" All the correspondence of the Prince
of Asturias passed under the eyes of Napoleon.

On their arrival at Bayonne on the 30th of April, King Charles IV. and his
queen were received with all royal honors. The emperor had himself
regulated the ceremonial. "All who are here, even the Infantado and
Escoiquiz, came to kiss the hand of the king and queen, kneeling," wrote
Napoleon to Murat on May 1st. "This scene roused the indignation of the
king and queen, who all the time regarded them with contempt. They
proceeded to their apartments ushered by Marshal Duroc, when the two
princes wished to follow them; but the king turning towards them, thus
addressed them: 'Princes, you have covered my gray hairs with shame and
sorrow; you come to add derision also. Depart, that I may never see you
again.' Since this occurrence the princes appear considerably stunned and
astonished. I know not yet upon what they have resolved."

On arriving at the gate of the chateau of Marac the old king, Charles IV.,
fell weeping into the arms of Napoleon. "Lean upon me," said the emperor;
"I have strength enough for both." "I know it well!" replied Charles: it
was the genuine expression of his thoughts. The Prince de la Paix was not
long in coming to the conclusion that all hope of his master's restoration
was lost. Repose, with an ample competency, was promised to him; Napoleon
also enabled him to get a taste of the pleasure of vengeance. Charles IV.
had given command to his son, requiring from him a pure and simple
renunciation of the crown which he had usurped: the prince peremptorily
refused. The old king rose up with difficulty, brandishing his cane above
his head: "I will have you treated like the rebel emigrants," cried he,
"as an unnatural son who wished to snatch away my life and my crown." They
had to restrict themselves to written communications. A letter from
Charles IV. reclaimed the crown, and presented to his son's notice a
mournful picture of his proceedings. "I have had recourse to the Emperor
of the French," said he, "no longer as a king, at the head of his army and
surrounded with the splendor of a throne, but as an unfortunate and
forsaken monarch. I have found protection and refuge in the midst of his
camp. I owe him my life and that of my queen and of my First Minister. All
now depends on the mediation and protection of this great prince. I have
reigned for the happiness of my subjects; I do not wish to bequeath them
civil war, rebellions, and the popular assemblies of revolution.
Everything ought to be done for the people, and nothing for one's self.
All my life I have sacrificed myself for my people; and it is not at the
age at which I have now arrived that I should do anything contrary to
their religion, their tranquillity, and their happiness. When I shall be
assured that the religion of Spain, the integrity of my provinces, their
independence and their privileges, will be maintained, I shall descend
into the tomb pardoning you the bitterness of my last years."

The king had already invested Murat with supreme power in the capacity of
Lieutenant-General of the Kingdom. Ferdinand continually resisted--
proposing, indeed, to make an act of renunciation, but only at Madrid, in
presence of the Cortes, and under the condition that the king, Charles
IV., should himself resume possession of the throne. The preliminary
negotiations became each day more bitter. Napoleon pursued his aim without
disturbing himself at the refusals of the prince, who, however, provoked
in him some ill-humor. He had by a single stroke destroyed the illusions
and hopes of Murat by writing to him on the 2nd of May, "I intend the King
of Naples to reign at Madrid. I wish to give you the kingdom of Naples, or
that of Portugal. Answer me immediately what you think of it, for it is
necessary for this to be done in a day." The very day on which Napoleon
thus inflicted on his brother-in-law a stroke for which Murat never
consoled himself, the insurrection which broke out at Madrid rendered
impossible the elevation to the throne of Spain of the man whose duty it
was so roughly to repress it. For a fortnight the excitement in the
capital had been intense, carefully kept up by the reports which Ferdinand
and his friends found the means of freely spreading amongst the
population. An order had been sent to Murat to make all those princes of
the royal house who were still at Madrid set out for Bayonne; when the
Junta had been induced with great difficulty to give its consent to this
measure, the populace opposed the departure. A certain number of soldiers
were massacred, an aide-de-camp of Murat escaping by a miracle from the
popular anger. The troops had for a long time been posted as a precaution
against an insurrection, and all the streets were soon swept by charges of
cavalry; cannon resounded in all directions. The Spanish troops, consigned
to their quarters, only took part in the struggle at one point; a company
of artillery gave up its pieces to the people. When the insurrection was
suppressed a hundred insurgents were shot without any form of trial.

This was, in the capital, the last and feeble effort of a resistance which
had not yet had time to become a patriotic passion. Henceforth Murat felt
himself master of Madrid; he became President of the Junta. Don Antonio
had accompanied to Bayonne his nephew, Francois de Paule, and his niece,
the Queen of Etruria.

"Your Majesty has nothing more to do than to designate the king whom you
destine for Spain," mournfully wrote the lieutenant-general on the morning
of the 3rd; "this king will reign without obstacle." But lately he had
repeated this proposal, heard on several occasions amongst the inhabitants
of Madrid: "Let us run to the house of the Grand Duc de Berg, and proclaim
him king."

The news of the insurrection of Madrid precipitated at Bayonne the
_denoument_ of the tragi-comedy in which for several days the illustrious
actors had been playing their parts. The emperor feigned great anger, and
the terror of the old Spanish sovereigns was real.

"It is thou who art the cause of all this!" cried the king, Charles IV.,
violently apostrophizing his son. "Thou hast caused the blood of our
subjects and of our allies to flow, in order to hasten by a few days the
moment of bearing a crown too heavy for thee. Restore it to him who can
sustain it." The prince remained taciturn and sombre, limiting himself to
protesting his innocence. His mother threw herself upon him. "Thou hast
always been a bad son," she cried with violence; "thou hast wished to
dethrone thy father, to cause thy mother's death; and thou art standing
there before us insensible, without replying either to us or to our friend
the great Napoleon: speak, justify thyself, if thou canst." The emperor,
who was present at this sorrowful scene, intervened: "If between this and
midnight you have not recognized your father as the lawful king, and have
not sent word to Madrid to that effect, you shall be treated as a rebel."

This was too much for the courage of Ferdinand; he was in the hands of an
irritated master, who had drawn him and his into a snare which was at this
time impossible to be broken through. Weakness and cowardice in the
present did not forbid far-off hopes; the prince yielded, counting on the
future. "For any one who can see it, his character is depicted by a single
word," Napoleon had said; "he is a sneak."

The treaty was concluded the same evening, through the mediation of the
Prince de la Paix. King Charles IV., recognizing that he and his family
were incapable of assuring the repose of Spain, of which he was the sole
lawful sovereign, surrendered the crown to the Emperor of the French, for
him to dispose of it at his will. Spain and her colonies were to form an
independent state. The Catholic religion was to remain dominant, to the
exclusion of all others. King Charles IV. was to enjoy during life the
castle and forest of Compiegne; the castle of Chambord was to belong to
him in perpetuity; a civil list of 7,500,000 francs was assured to him
from the French Treasury. A particular convention accorded the absolute
property of the castle of Navarre to Prince Ferdinand, with a revenue of
1,000,000 francs, and 400,000 livres income for each of the Infantas. When
the emperor notified to Count Mollien, then Minister of the Treasury, the
tenor of the treaty, he added: "That will make 10,000,000. All these sums
will be reimbursed by Spain." The Spanish nation was to pay for the fall
of its dynasty and the pacific conquest upon which Napoleon counted. She
reserved for him another price for his perfidious manoeuvres.

Already the Spanish princes were on the way to their retreats. Compiegne
and Navarre not being ready for their reception, the old king was to
inhabit Fontainebleau provisionally. The emperor ordered Talleyrand to
receive the Infantas at Valencay, thus confiding to his vice-grand-elector
the honorable functions of a jailer. "I desire," he wrote to him on the
9th of May, "that the princes may be received with no external ceremony,
but with respect and care, and that you do everything possible to amuse
them. Be on Monday evening at Valencay. If you have a theatre there, and
could get a few comedians to come, it would not be a bad idea; you might
bring Madame de Talleyrand there, with four or five ladies. I have the
greatest interest in the Prince of Asturias being prevented from taking
any false steps. I desire, then, that he may be amused and occupied. Harsh
policy would lead one to put him in the Bicetre, or in some strong castle;
but as he has thrown himself into my arms, and has promised me to do
nothing without my orders, and as all goes on in Spain as I desire, I have
decided to send him into a country place, surrounding him at the same time
with pleasures and keeping him under strict surveillance. Let this last
during the month of May and part of June; the affairs of Spain will have
taken a turn, and I shall then see what part I shall take.

"As to you, your mission is honorable enough; to receive at your house
these three illustrious personages, in order to amuse them, is altogether
worthy of the nation and of your rank."

The captivity of the Spanish princes was to be much longer and less
cheerful than the Emperor Napoleon was depicting it beforehand. He had
already provided for the government of Spain. Sorrowfully and with great
difficulty, Murat had prevailed upon the Grand Council of Castile and the
Indies to indicate a preference for the King of Naples. The Junta had
absolutely refused to take part in any manifestations of this nature. On
the 10th of May, Napoleon wrote to King Joseph, "King Charles, by the
treaty I have made with him, cedes to me all the rights of the crown of
Spain. The nation, through the medium of the Supreme Council of Castile,
asks from me a king. It is for you that I destine this crown. Spain is not
like the kingdom of Naples: it has 11,000,000 of inhabitants, more than a
hundred and fifty millions of revenue, without counting the immense
revenues and possessions of all the Americas. It is, besides, a crown
which places you at Madrid, within three days of France, which entirely
covers one of its frontiers. At Madrid you are in France; Naples is at the
end of the world. I desire, then, that immediately you have received this
letter you should confide the regency to whoever you will, and the command
of the troops to Marshal Jourdan, and that you should set out for Bayonne
by way of Turin, Mont Cenis, and Lyons. You will receive this letter on
the 19th, you will set out on the 20th, and you will be here on the 1st of
June. Withal, keep the matter secret; people will perhaps suspect
something, but you can say that you have to go to Upper Italy in order to
confer with me on important affairs."

Napoleon had said, the moment when he concluded the treaty which deprived
the house of Bourbon of its last throne, "What I am doing is not well in a
certain point of view, I know. But policy demands that I should not leave
in my rear, so near Paris, a dynasty inimical to my own."

Justice and right possess lights of which the cleverest framers of human
politics are at times ignorant. The Emperor Napoleon descended several
steps towards his fall when he abused his power as regards Pope Pius VII.,
and used odious means to dethrone the feeble and ignorant princes who were
ruling over Spain. Very slippery are the roads of universal power; in the
steps of its master, France was rushing to disaster.




CHAPTER X.

THE HOME GOVERNMENT (1804-1808).


For more than twenty years the history of France was the history of
Europe; for more than fifteen years the history of Napoleon was the
history of France, but a history cruelly bloody and agitated, often
adorned with so much glory and splendor, that the country might, and in
fact did, indulge itself in long and fatal illusions which drew down
bitter sufferings. All this life of our country, however, was not
dissipated afar off in the train of its victorious armies, or its arrogant
ambassadors; if old France was sometimes astonished to find herself so
much increased that she ran the risk of becoming one of the provinces of
the Empire, she always remained the centre, and her haughty master did not
forget her. Carried beyond her territory by the wild instinct of ambition,
he did not renounce the home government of his first and most famous
conquest. Seconded by several capable and modest men to whom he
transmitted peremptory orders, often modified by them in the execution,
Napoleon founded again the French administration, formerly powerful in the
hands of the great minister of Louis XIV., but destroyed and overthrown by
the shocks of the Revolution. He established institutions, he raised
monuments which have remained while all the dazzling trophies of his arms
have disappeared, while all his conquests have been torn from us, after
worn out France, bruised and bleeding, found herself smaller than at the
end of the evil days of the French Revolution.

"Scarcely invested with a sovereignty, new both to France and to himself,"
said Count Mollien in his memoirs, "Napoleon imposed upon himself the task
of ascertaining all the revenues and expenses of the state. He had
acquired patience for the details from the fact that, in his campaigns, he
depended entirely upon himself for the care of securing food, clothing and
pay of his armies." On the eve of Austerlitz, after immense efforts made
by the government as well as the public, to re-establish order and
activity in a country so long agitated and weakened by incessant shocks,
the measure of new enterprises had been exceeded; embarrassments extended
from public to private fortunes, all the symptoms of a serious and
impending crisis were already shown. Napoleon did not hide this from
himself, but he saw and sought for no other remedy than victory. Passing
before Mollien, when going to theatre, he said to him, "The finances are
in a bad way, the Bank is embarrassed. I cannot put these matters right."
For a long time the fortune as well as the repose of France was to depend
upon the ever doubtful chances of victory; long she submitted to it with a
constancy without example. The day came when victory was not sufficient
for our country, she had not strength enough to support the price of her
glory. The Emperor Napoleon was deceived in seeking the sources of public
prosperity in conquest; the blood which flows in the veins of a nation is
not restored as soon as another nation, humiliated and vanquished, shall
in its turn give up drop by drop its blood, its children, and its
treasures. Society is exhausted unless war contributions and exactions
definitively fill the coffers of the victor. The long hostilities of
Europe, and our alternate successes and reverses, have sufficiently taught
us this hard lesson. Victor or vanquished, France has never completely
crushed her enemies, she has never been crushed by them. All have
suffered, all still suffer from this outrage on the welfare of society,
which is called a war of conquest. In the beginning of his supreme power,
Napoleon thought to find in victory an inexhaustible source of riches. "It
was the ideas of the ancients which Napoleon applied to the right of
conquest," said Mollien.

He learnt even on the morrow of the battle of Austerlitz that victory is
not sufficient for the repose and prosperity of a state; the expenses
necessitated by the preparations for war, the enormous sums which the
treasury had had to pay, the general crisis in the commercial world had
induced the minister of the treasury, Barbe Marbois, to have recourse to
hazardous enterprises entrusted to unsafe hands. "You are a very honest
man," the emperor wrote [Footnote: The "Negociants reunis."] to his
minister, "but I cannot help believing that you are surrounded by rogues."
Six weeks after the battle of Austerlitz, on the 26th January, 1806,
Napoleon arrived at Paris in the night and summoned a council of finance
for the following morning. The emperor scarcely permitted a few words to
be addressed to him on a campaign so promptly and gloriously terminated.
"We have," he said, "questions to deal with which are more serious; it
appears that the greatest dangers of the state are not in Austria; listen
to the report of the minister of the treasury."

"Barbe Marbois commenced the report with the calm of a conscience which
has nothing to reproach itself," adds M. Mollien. He soon showed how the
receipts, constantly inferior to the indispensable expenses, had obliged
the treasury to borrow, first from the receivers-general, then from a new
company of speculators at the head of whom was M. Ouvrard, a man of
ability, but of doubtful reputation; the brokers as they were called, had
in their turn engaged the state in perilous affairs with Spain, and the
commissions upon the receivers-general, which had been conceded to them,
enormously surpassed their advances. "The State is the sole creditor of
the company," Marbois said at last. The emperor got in a passion. His
prompt and penetrating mind, always ready to distrust, discovered by
instinct, and without penetrating into details, the fraud to which his
minister was blind. He called before him the brokers, the principal clerks
at the treasury, and confounding them all by the bursts of his anger, he
forgot at the same time the respect he owed to the age and character of
Marbois, who was suddenly dismissed, and immediately replaced by Mollien.

"I had no need to listen to the entire report to guess that the brokers
had converted to their own use more than sixty millions," said Napoleon to
his new minister; "the money must be recovered."

The debts of the brokers to the public treasury were still more
considerable: Mollien had to find the proof and ward off in a great
measure the dangers resulting to the treasury from this fatal association
with a company of speculators.

Two years later the emperor placed Barbe Marbois at the head of the Court
of Accounts which he had just founded. He did not admit the want of repose
or a wish for retirement. For a moment Mollien had hesitated to accept the
post imposed upon him by his master. He was director of the _caisse
d'amortissement_ (bank for redemption of rents), and was satisfied with
his place. "You cannot refuse a ministry," said the emperor, suddenly,
"this evening you will take the oath." Count Mollien introduced important
improvements into the management of the finances. The foundation of the
bank of service, in current account with the receivers-general, book-
keeping by double entry, formerly brought into France by Law, but which
had not been established at the treasury, the publication of annual
balance sheets, such were the improvements accomplished at that time by
the minister of the treasury.

The public works had not been neglected in this whirlwind of affairs which
circled round Napoleon. He had ordered vast contracts in road and canal-
making; in the intervals of leisure which he devoted to France and the
home government, he conceived the idea of monuments destined to
immortalize his glory and to fix in the spirit of the people the
remembrance of the past, on which the new master of France, set much
value. He repaired the basilica of St. Denis, built sepulchral chapels,
and instituted a chapter composed of former bishops. He finished the
Pantheon, restored to public worship under the old name of Sainte-
Genevieve, ordered the construction of the arcs de triomphe (triumphal
arches) of the Carrousel and l'Etoile, and the erection of the column in
the Place Vendome. He also decreed two new bridges over the Seine, those
of Austerlitz and Jena. The termination of the Louvre, the construction of
the Bourse, the erection of a temple consecrated to the memory of the
exploits of the great army and which became the church of the Madeleine,
were also decreed. In the great range of his thoughts, which constantly
advanced before his epoch and the resources at his disposal, Napoleon
prepared an enormous task for the governments succeeding him. All have
laboriously contributed to the completion of the works which he had
conceived.

At the same time that he constructed monuments and reorganized the public
administration, Napoleon desired to found new social conditions. He had
created kings and princes; he had raised around him his family and the
companions of his glory, to unheard-of fortune; he wished to consolidate
this aristocracy, which owed all its splendor to him, by extending it. He
had magnificently endowed the great functionaries of the Empire; he wished
to re-establish below and around them a hierarchy of subalterns, honored
by public offices and henceforth, for this reason, to have themselves and
families distinguished by hereditary titles. In the speech from the
throne, by which he opened the session of the legislative body in 1807,
Napoleon showed his intentions on this subject. "The nation," said he,
"has experienced the most happy results from the establishment of the
Legion of Honor. I have created several imperial titles, to give new
splendor to my principal subjects, to honor striking services by striking
recompenses, and also to prevent the return of any feudal titles
incompatible with our Constitution."

Thus it was that, by a child of the Revolution, still possessed by most of
its doctrines, a nobility was to be created in France. The country was not
deceived. The emperor could make dukes, marquises, counts, barons; he
could not constitute an aristocracy, that slow product of ages in the
history of nations. The new nobles remained functionaries when they were
not soldiers, illustrious by themselves as well as by the incomparable
lustre of the glory of their chief.

The emperor gained battles, concluded treaties, raised or overthrew
thrones; he founded a new nobility, and decreed the erection of
magnificent monuments by the simple effort of his all-powerful will; he
imagined that his imperial action had no limit, and thought himself able
to command the master-pieces of genius as well as the movements of his
armies. He was not, and had never been, indifferent to the great beauties
of intellect, and his taste was shocked when he was extolled at the opera
in bad verses.

In his opinion, mind had its place in the social state, and should be
everywhere regulated as a class of that institute which he had
reconstituted and completed. He had already laid the foundations of a
great university corporation, which he was soon to establish, and which
has since, in spite of some defects, rendered such important services to
the national education and instruction. In the session of 1806, a project
of law, drawn up by M. Fourcroy, Director of Public Instruction, had made
the fundamental principles known. By the side of the clerical body, to
whom Napoleon would not confide the public education, he had imagined the
idea of a lay corporation, which should not be subject to permanent vows,
while at the same time imbued with that _esprit de corps_ which he had
come to look on as one of the great moral forces of society. Under the
name of the Imperial University, a new body of teachers was to be
entrusted with the public education throughout the empire; the members of
this body of teachers were to undertake civil, special, and temporary
obligations. The professional education of the men destined to this
career, their examinations, their incorporation in the university, the
government of this body, confided to a superior council, composed of men
illustrious by their talents; all this vast and fertile scheme, due in a
great measure to the aid of Fontanes, was afterwards to be developed in
the midst of the storms which already commenced to gather around France.
Napoleon had long conceived the project, but deferred the details to
another time, waiting until he had created the nursery which should
furnish France with learned men, whose duty was to educate the rising
generation. The all-powerful conqueror, in the midst of his Polish
campaign, and in his winter-quarters of Finkestein, prepared a minute on
the establishment of Ecouen, which had been recently founded for the
education of poor girls belonging to members of the Legion of Honor. I
wish to quote this document, which, though blunt and insolent, shows much
good sense, in order to show how this infinitely active and powerful mind
pursued at once different enterprises and thoughts, stamping on all his
works the seal of his character and his personal will.

"This establishment must be handsome in all that relates to building, and
simple in all that relates to education. Beware of following the example
of the old establishment of St. Cyr, where they spent considerable sums
and brought up the young ladies badly. The employment and distribution of
time are objects which principally demand your attention. What shall be
taught to the young ladies who are to be educated at Ecouen? We must begin
by religion in all its strictness. Do not admit on this point any
modification. Religion is an important matter in a public institution for
young ladies. It is, whatever may be said to the contrary, the surest
guarantee for mothers and for husbands. Let us bring up believers, and not
reasoners. The weakness of woman's brain, the uncertainty of their ideas,
their destiny in society, the necessity of constant and perpetual
resignation, and a sort of indulgent and easy charity; all this cannot be
obtained, except by religion, by a religion charitable and mild. I
attached but small importance to the religious institutions of the
military school of Fontainebleau, and I have ordained only what is
absolutely necessary for the lyceums. It is quite the reverse for the
institution of Ecouen. Nearly all the science taught there ought to be
that of the Gospel. I desire that there may proceed from it not very
charming women, but virtuous women; that their accomplishments may be
those of manners and heart, not of wit and amusement.

"There must, therefore, be at Ecouen a director, an intelligent man, of
middle age and good morals. The pupils must each day say regular prayers,
hear mass, and receive lessons on the catechism. This part of their
education must be most carefully attended to.

"The pupils must then also be taught arithmetic, writing, and the
principles of their mother tongue, so that they know orthography. They
must be taught a little geography and history, but be careful not to teach
them Latin or any foreign tongue. To the eldest may be taught a little
botany, or a slight course of physics or natural history, and even that
may have a bad effect. They must be limited in physics to what is
necessary to prevent gross ignorance or stupid superstition, and must keep
to facts, without reasonings which tend directly or indirectly to first
causes.

"It will afterwards be considered if it would be useful to give to those
who attain to a certain class a sum for their clothing. They might by that
get accustomed to economy, to calculate the value of things, and to keep
their own accounts. But, in general, they must all be occupied during
three fourths of the day in manual work; they ought to know how to make
stockings, chemises, embroidery--in fact, all kinds of women's work. These
young girls ought to be considered as if they belonged to families who
have in the provinces from fifteen to eighteen thousand francs a year, and
be treated accordingly. You will therefore understand that hand-work in
the household should not be indifferent to them.

"I do not know if it is possible to teach them some little of medicine and
pharmacy, at least of that kind of medicine which is within the reach of a
nurse. It would be well also if they knew a little part of the kitchen
occupied by medicinal herbs. I wish that a young girl, quitting Ecouen to
take her place at the head of a small household, should know how to cut
out her dresses, mend her husband's clothes, make her baby-linen, and
procure little comforts for her family by the means usually employed in a
provincial household; nurse her husband and children when ill, and know on
these points, because it has been early inculcated on her, all that nurses
have learnt by habit. All this is so simple and trivial as scarcely to
require reflection. As to dress, it ought to be uniform and of common
material, but well made. I think that on that head the present female
costume leaves nothing to be desired. The arms, however, must of course be
covered, and other modifications adopted which modesty and the conditions
of health require.

"As to the food, it cannot be too simple; soup, boiled beef, and a little
_entree_; there is no need for more.

"I do not dare, as at Fontainebleau, order the pupils to do their own
cooking; I should have too many people against me; but they may be allowed
to prepare their dessert, and what is given to them either for lunch or
for holidays. I will dispense with their cooking, but not with their
making their own bread. The advantage of all this is, that they will be
exercised in all they may be called on to do, and find the natural
employment of their time in practical and useful things.

"If I am told that the establishment will not be very fashionable, I reply
that this is what I desire, because it is my opinion that of all
educations the best is that of mothers; because my intention is
principally to assist those young girls who have lost their mothers, and
whose relations are poor. To sum up all, if the members of the Legion of
Honor who are rich disdain to put their daughters at Ecouen, if those who
are poor desire that they shall be received, and if these young persona;
re