World's Best Histories — Volume 7: France

by François Guizot; Madame de Witt

"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 Lunéville 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 Lunéville 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 éclat 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 Fouché, 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 Fouché. At one period the royalists had thought General Bonaparte capable of playing the rôle 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."