ANXIETY OCCASIONED BY THE NEW RESTRICTIONS.—ANECDOTES OF CAMPO-FORMIO.—MM. DE COBENTZEL, GALLO, AND CLARKE.—THE COUNT D’ANTRAIGUES.
10th.—This morning we had agreed to meet together at the Grand Marshal’s, to deliberate on the restrictions which the Governor had recently transmitted to us, and to adopt a uniform resolution. I was unwell, and could not attend. I, however, wrote down my opinion: I stated that in the delicate situation in which I was placed I could do nothing; I could arrive at no positive conclusion; I always found 0—0.
The point in question was, indeed, of the most serious and difficult nature. We were required to subject ourselves to new restrictions, to place ourselves under the dependence of the Governor, who shamefully abused his power, employed the most insulting language towards the Emperor, and announced that we must submit to every grievance, under pain of being immediately separated from Napoleon, sent to the Cape, and thence to Europe.
On the other hand, the Emperor, indignant at the mortifications to which we were exposed on his account, insisted that we should no longer submit to them. He urged us rather to quit him, and to return to Europe, to bear witness that we had seen him absolutely buried alive.
But how could we for a moment endure this thought! Death was preferable to separation from him whom we served, admired, and loved; to whom we daily became more and more attached, through his personal qualities, and the miseries which injustice and hatred had accumulated upon him. This was the real state of the question. In these distressing circumstances, we knew not what determination to adopt. I closed my letter by stating that, if left to myself alone, I would sign, without scruple, any thing that the Governor might present to me; and that, if a collective resolution were taken, I would implicitly adopt it.
The Governor had now found out a method of attacking us in detail: he declared his intention of removing any individual of Napoleon’s suite according to his will and caprice.
The Emperor was indisposed: the Doctor has observed incipient scurvy. He desired me to attend him, and we conversed on the subjects which chiefly occupied our attention at the moment. He wanted something to amuse him, and he took up the chapter of Leoben, which happened to be beside him. When he had finished reading it, the conversation turned on the conferences which brought about the treaty of Campo-Formio. I refer to the chapters on that subject for the portrait and character of the first Austrian negotiator, M. de Cobentzel, whom Napoleon surnamed the “great northern bear,” on account of the influence which, he said, his heavy paw had exercised on the green table of the conferences.
“M. de Cobentzel was at that time,” said the Emperor, “the agent of the Austrian monarchy, the main spring of its plans, and the director of its diplomacy. He had been appointed on all the principal European embassies, and had been long at the Court of Catharine, whose peculiar favour he enjoyed. Proud of his rank and importance, he doubted not that his dignified and courtly manners would easily overawe a General who had just issued from the revolutionary camp. Thus,” observed Napoleon, “he shewed a want of respect in addressing the French General; but the first words uttered by the latter sufficed to reduce him to his proper level, above which he never afterwards attempted to rise.”
The conferences at first proceeded very slowly; for M. de Cobentzel, according to the custom of the Austrian Cabinet, proved himself very skilful in the art of retarding business. The French General, however, determined to bring matters to an issue: the conference, which he had declared should be the last, was maintained with great warmth. Napoleon came, resolved to have a decisive answer to his propositions; they were rejected. He then rose in a fit of passion, and exclaimed energetically: “You wish for war then?—You shall have it:” and laying his hands on a magnificent piece of porcelain (which M. de Cobentzel used with great complacency to boast of having received as a present from the great Catharine), he dashed it with all his force on the ground, where it was broken into a thousand pieces. “There,” he exclaimed, “such, I promise you, will be the fate of your Austrian monarchy in less than three months:” and[months:” and] so saying, he rushed out of the apartment. M. de Cobentzel stood petrified; but M. de Gallo, who was of a more conciliatory temper, followed the French General to his carriage, endeavouring to detain him. “He almost dragged me back by main force,” said the Emperor, “and with so pitiable an air, that, in spite of my apparent anger, I could not refrain from laughing in my sleeve.”
M. de Gallo was the ambassador from Naples to Vienna, whither he had conducted the Neapolitan Princess, the second wife of the Emperor Francis. He possessed the full confidence of the Princess, and she, in her turn, ruled her husband: thus the ambassador enjoyed great influence at the Court of Vienna. When the army of Italy, marching on Vienna, dictated the armistice of Leoben, the Empress, at this critical juncture, cast her eyes on her confident, and charged him to avert the danger. He was to gain an interview with the French General, as if accidentally, and to endeavour to prevail on him to accept his services as a negotiator. Napoleon, who was well acquainted with every circumstance, determined to turn his knowledge to a good account. Accordingly, on receiving M. de Gallo, he inquired who he was. The favourite courtier, disconcerted to find himself under the necessity of telling his name, replied that he was the Marquess de Gallo, and that he had been charged by the Emperor of Austria to make overtures to Napoleon. “But,” said the latter, “your name is not German.” “True,” replied M. de Gallo,” I am the Neapolitan ambassador.” “And how happens it,” said Napoleon drily, “that I have to treat with Naples? We are at peace. Has the Emperor of Austria no negotiators of the old school? Is the old aristocracy of Vienna extinct?” M. de Gallo, alarmed at the idea of such observations being officially communicated to the Cabinet of Vienna, now became intent on ingratiating himself into the favour of the young General.
Napoleon enquired what news had been received from Vienna, and spoke of the armies of the Rhine, the Sambre, and the Meuse. He obtained all the intelligence he could; and, when he was about to withdraw, M. de Gallo, in the most suppliant tone, inquired whether he might hope to be accepted as a negotiator, and whether he should proceed to Vienna to obtain full powers. Napoleon had no wish to decline this proposal; he had gained an advantage which he was not willing to lose. M. de Gallo, who subsequently became ambassador from Naples to the First Consul, and also ambassador from Joseph to the Emperor Napoleon, frequently mentioned this scene, and frankly avowed that he had never been so frightened in the whole course of his life.
In the French negotiations, Clarke acted the same kind of secondary part which M. de Gallo maintained with regard to Austria. “Clarke,” said the Emperor, “had been sent to Italy by the Directory, which had begun to consider me as dangerous. He was charged with an ostensible and public mission; but he had secret orders to keep an eye upon me, and to ascertain if, in case of necessity, it would be possible to arrest me. But little reliance could have been placed on the officers of my army, in an affair of this kind, and therefore the first inquiries were addressed to the Cisalpine Directory. The answer was that it would be as well to spare trouble on this point, and to give up all idea of it. As soon as I was made acquainted with Clarke’s real instructions, I frankly told him all I knew; at the same time assuring him that I should concern myself but very little about any reports that might be made. He was soon convinced of this. When, on his mission to Austria, he was dismissed, by that Power, I offered to find employment for him, and he afterwards remained with me; though perhaps there was, in reality, but little sympathy between us. I should undoubtedly have again taken him into my service, after my return, if I had found him in the ranks along with the rest. You know that I could not easily rid myself of those to whom I had become accustomed: when people had once embarked with me, I could never prevail on myself to throw them overboard. Nothing but absolute necessity could force me to such a course. Clarke’s chief merit was that of being a good man of business.”
After Brumaire, Clarke naturally came in contact with the First Consul as his aid-de-camp, &c. There was then little etiquette observed at the palace; the duties were not distinctly separated, and the whole presented a kind of family circle. The officers immediately connected with the Consul dined at a general table. Clarke, who was extremely susceptible and punctilious, got involved in quarrels with one of these persons. The circumstance having reached the ears of the First Consul, he appointed Clarke ambassador to Florence, to the court of the Queen of Etruria. This post was in itself highly agreeable; but Clarke had been appointed to it by way of disgrace. He urgently solicited his recal; and, at length, to his great satisfaction, he received an order to return to France. But his punishment was not yet at an end. The First Consul took but little notice of him: he sent him to the Tuileries, to St. Cloud, and to the camp of Boulogne, without explaining his intentions, or granting him any thing. Clarke, in despair, told one of his friends that he had no alternative but to throw himself into the Seine, as he could no longer endure the contempt to which he was exposed, added to the mortification of being deprived of his situation. Just at this time he was unexpectedly made Secretary of the Topographical Cabinet, Councillor of State, and appointed to some other posts, which altogether produced him a salary of 60 or 80,000 francs. This was Napoleon’s way: his first favour was usually followed immediately by several others. In these cases his bounty was overwhelming. But it was necessary to take advantage of the interval of favour; it might be endless, or it might be instantly and irretrievably lost.
I knew General Clarke well; he had been my comrade at the Military School. He informed me that, some days before the battle of Jena, the Emperor, from whose dictation he had just written numerous orders and instructions, entering into a familiar conversation, while he walked up and down his chamber, said: “In three or four days I will fight a battle, which I shall gain: it will bring me at least as far as the Elbe, and perhaps to the Vistula. There I will fight a second battle, which I shall also gain. Then ... then ...,” said he, with a meditative air, and placing his hand on his forehead ... “but that is enough; it is useless to invent romances,—Clarke, in a month you will be Governor of Berlin; and history will record that, in the space of one year, and in two different wars, you were Governor of Vienna and Berlin; that is to say, of the Austrian and Prussian monarchies. By the bye,” continued he, smiling, “what did Francis give you for governing his capital?”—“Nothing at all, Sire.”—“How, nothing at all?—That was hard indeed! Well, in that case, I must pay his debt.” And he gave him, as far as I can recollect, a sum sufficient to purchase an hotel in Paris, or a country house in the vicinity of the capital.
The course of events exceeded even Napoleon’s expectations. He fought but one battle, which brought him to Berlin, and enabled him to advance to the Vistula.
“Clarke,” said Napoleon, “possessed a strong taste for family parchments. At Florence he spent a great portion of his time in investigating my genealogy. He also took great pains to trace out his own, and I believe he at length persuaded himself that he was related to the whole Faubourg Saint-Germain. Doubtless he has a much higher opinion of his own dignity, now that he is the Minister of a legitimate King than[than] he had when he was merely the Minister of an upstart Emperor. It is said that he at present enjoys great favour; I wish it may last. It commenced a few days before my arrival at Paris, when the cause of the King was desperate. It certainly appeared useless to accept a ministry when all was lost; but I have nothing to say against that. This sort of conduct may have its fair side; yet it is necessary to observe some degree of decorum, and in that Clarke was wholly wanting. However, I willingly forgive him in all that concerns me.... In 1813 and 1814 some persons endeavoured to inspire me with doubts of Clarke’s fidelity; but I never would listen to any thing of the kind. I always believed him to be an honest man.” The intimate friends of the Duke de Feltre can bear witness that Napoleon was correct in the opinion he had formed of the character of his minister.
The Duke de Feltre, on communicating to the Emperor the intelligence of the arrival of the Count d’Artois in Switzerland, advised him to make peace. Napoleon replied, under date of 22d of February, 1814:—“As to your advice of making peace, it is too absurd: it is by cherishing such notions as this that public spirit is destroyed. Besides, it is supposing me either mad or stupid to imagine that, if I could conclude peace, I would not immediately do it. To the prevailing notion that it has been in my power to make peace for four months past, but that I declined doing so, must be attributed all the misfortunes of France. I expected, at least, to have been spared the pain of hearing such sentiments expressed.”
The Emperor, reverting to the events of Campo-Formio, alluded to the arrest of the Count d’Antraigues, the papers that were found upon him, and the discoveries to which they gave rise; he also mentioned the indulgence which the Count experienced, and the treachery with which that indulgence was repaid.
The Count d’Antraigues, who was a man of considerable talent, fond of intrigue, and endowed with personal advantages, had acquired a certain degree of importance at the commencement of our Revolution. He was a member of the right hand side of the Constituent Assembly, and he emigrated at the time of its dissolution. At the period when the French were about to assail Venice, the Count d’Antraigues was residing there, where he held a diplomatic appointment from the Russian Government, and was the main spring and agent of all the machinations that were plotting against France. On seeing the danger of the Venetian Republic, he attempted to escape; but he fell in with one of our posts, and was seized, with all his papers. The General-in-chief appointed a special commission to examine these documents, and the secrets which they unfolded were the subject of great astonishment. They contained, among other things, full proof of the treason of Pichegru, who had sacrificed his troops to facilitate[facilitate] the operations of the enemy. “Pichegru,” exclaimed the Emperor indignantly, “was guilty of the most odious crime that can possibly be conceived, that of coldly sacrificing the men whose lives had been entrusted to his honour and discretion.”
The Count d’Antraigues[d’Antraigues], finding that all his secrets were discovered, conducted himself with so much address and apparent candour, that Napoleon, conceiving he had gained him over, or, to speak more properly, suffering himself to be gained over by the Count, treated him with the utmost indulgence. He defended him against the proceedings of the Directory, which insisted on having him shot, and the Count was allowed to proceed to Milan on his parole. But what was Napoleon’s surprise on learning that M. d‘Antraigues had escaped to Switzerland, and had published an infamous libel against him, reproaching him with ill-treatment, and complaining of having been confined in chains? These falsehoods occasioned so much indignation that several foreign diplomatists, who knew how Napoleon had really acted towards the Count, spontaneously made a public declaration of what they had witnessed.
So late as the year 1814, the Count d‘Antraigues died in England, in a horrible way, being assassinated by his valet-de-chambre in the presence of his wife, who was the celebrated singer Saint Huberti.
At the time of the seizure of the Count d‘Antraigues‘ papers, Pichegru was at the head of the Legislative Body, and was almost at open war with the Directory. It may well be supposed that the members of the Directory were highly gratified by thus obtaining important and authentic documents against their adversaries. This discovery greatly influenced Napoleon in the course which he adopted in the events of Fructidor: it was one of the principal causes of his famous proclamation, which brought about the triumph of the Directory.
Desaix, who was serving under Moreau in the army of the Rhine, having taken advantage of the armistice to introduce himself to the General-in-chief of the army of Italy, for whom he had conceived the highest admiration, was with Napoleon at the time of the important discovery above mentioned. Napoleon having informed him of the treason of Pichegru, Desaix observed; “But we knew all this on the Rhine three months ago. A waggon, belonging to General Klinglin’s corps, which fell into our hands, furnished us with all Pichegru’s correspondence with the enemies of the Republic.”—“And did Moreau give no intimation of this to the Directory?” “No.”—“Then he is very blameable,” exclaimed Napoleon; “when the safety of one’s country is at stake silence is guilt!” After Pichegru’s fall, Moreau communicated to the Directory all he knew respecting the conspiracy, at the same time pronouncing a severe reprobation on those who were concerned in it. “This was but another instance of misconduct,” said Napoleon; “by not speaking earlier, he betrayed his country; and by speaking so late, he merely struck a blow at one who was already fallen.”