“It is the duty of all to look our difficulties in the face and to lay the ground for getting the better of them.”
Wellington.
While the good folk of London were listening to the guns of the Tower and of the Park, which told of the Waterloo victory, and the joyful news was percolating to the smallest hamlet, Wellington was fighting a battle in which neither sword nor gun was involved. It was one of diplomacy, and he proved the conqueror. Blücher, armed with the Declaration of the 13th March 1815 to the effect that “Napoleon Bonaparte is put beyond the pale of social and civil relations, and as enemy and disturber of the repose of the world, he is delivered over to public vengeance,” was for seizing the fallen Emperor and shooting him as an outlaw at Vincennes, the scene of the Duc d’Enghien tragedy.[102] The bloodthirsty Prussian asked for Wellington’s views on the matter. He received them without delay, and expressed in such a way that Blücher must have felt thoroughly ashamed of himself, if only for a passing moment. “They had both acted too distinguished a part in the recent transactions to become executioners,” the Duke wrote. This single sentence reveals the sterling uprightness of the man and his hatred of unnecessary bloodshed. Even supposing that he had received authority for the carrying out of such a measure, it is extremely doubtful whether Wellington would have concurred in his colleague’s wish. Blücher sneered—and accepted the decision. Wellington also found himself in disagreement with the Prussian view regarding the bridge of Jena at Paris, which commemorated the crushing Prussian defeat of October 1806. Blücher, with true patriotic zeal as it seemed to him, was for blowing it to pieces. Wellington regarded the idea as foolish, and he carried his point. It would have been a bitter day for the Capital had Blücher been allowed to work his will. The Prussian Commander insisted on levying a contribution on the city of Paris of 100,000,000 francs. Wellington upset the scheme by insisting that the question was one for the Allied sovereigns to arrange. For the third time vindictive Blücher had to give in.
When the Provisional Government appealed to the Duke with reference to Napoleon’s successor, he bluntly told them that “the best security for Europe was the restoration of the King,” namely, Louis XVIII, and that he should be recalled “without loss of time, so as to avoid the appearance of the measure having been forced upon them by the allies.”
When the Exile King returned to Paris the enormous demands of certain of the Powers, particularly of Austria and Prussia, had to be discussed. Had it not been for the resistance of Castlereagh, Wellington, and Nesselrode, extensive partitions undoubtedly would have resulted. As finally settled by the Second Treaty of Paris, concluded on the 20th November, the territory of France was reduced to practically the limits of 1790, an indemnity of 700,000,000 francs was determined for the expenses of the war, and an army of occupation not exceeding 150,000 troops under the Duke was to garrison the chief frontier fortresses, including Valenciennes, Cambray, Quesnoy, Maubeuge, and Landrecy, for a maximum period of five years, the expense being met by the French Government. The magnificent art treasures, which Napoleon had gloried in plundering, were to be returned to their rightful owners. That is why the celebrated bronze horses of St Mark may be seen on the great Venetian Cathedral to-day, and the wonderful “Descent from the Cross,” by Rubens, admired in the Cathedral of Antwerp, from whence it had been taken to find a temporary resting-place in the Louvre.
An excellent account of the Army of Occupation is given by a Scotsman who visited Paris shortly after the battle of Waterloo. There were comparatively few Austrians, the majority of them being in the south of France, but those seen by the writer of Paul’s Letters to his Kinsfolk were “bulky men” who “want the hardy and athletic look of the British, Russians, or Prussians.” The Russian infantry were “fine, firm, steady-looking men, clean, handsome, but by no means remarkable for stature.” The artillery were “in the highest possible order,” the cavalry “remarkably fine men,” the appearance of the Cossacks “prepossessing.” The Prussians, while never having been accused of “gross violence,” succeeded in wrecking the Château de Montmorency, where a large body of them was quartered. Camp-kettles were boiled with picture-frames, and the furniture stripped by female camp followers. Paul notes that the Prussian officers were the principal customers of the expensive restaurants and theatres, but that many British officers of rank had gone so far as to decline the quarters appointed them in private houses. He bestows much praise on Wellington for his discipline and justice: “The strong sense and firmness for which the Duke is as much distinguished as for skill in arms and bravery in the field of battle, easily saw that the high and paramount part which Britain now holds in Europe, that preeminence which, in so many instances, has made her and her delegates the chosen mediators when disputes occurred amongst the allied powers, depends entirely on our maintaining pure and sacred the national character for good faith and disinterested honour. The slightest complaint, therefore, of want of discipline or oppression perpetrated by a British officer or soldier has instantly met with reprehension and punishment, and the result has been the reducing the French to the cruel situation of hating us without having any complaint to justify themselves for doing so, even in their own eyes.... The soldiers, without exception, both British and foreigners, conduct themselves in public with civility, are very rarely to be seen intoxicated, though the means are so much within reach; and, considering all the irritating circumstances that exist, few quarrels occur betwixt them and the populace. Very strong precautions are, however, taken in case of any accidental or premeditated commotion.”
Wellington threw the whole weight of his influence on the side of moderation. Prussia was all for partition, for getting her territorial “pound of flesh,” but the calmer statesmanship of the diplomatists already mentioned, especially of Wellington, won the day. The Duke’s policy is clearly outlined in his dispatch of the 11th August, which, in the opinion of Dr Holland Rose, “deserves to rank among his highest titles to fame.”
Wellington states that while France has been left “in too great strength for the rest of Europe, weakened as all the powers of Europe have been by the wars in which they have been engaged with France,” his objection to the demand of a “great cession from France upon this occasion is, that it will defeat the object which the Allies have held out to themselves in the present and the preceding wars.” He then proceeds to detail what were, in his opinion, the various causes which led to so much bloodshed: “to put an end to the French Revolution, to obtain peace for themselves and their people, to have the power of reducing their overgrown military establishments, and the leisure to attend to the internal concerns of their several nations, and to improve the situation of their people. The Allies took up arms against Buonaparte because it was certain that the world could not be at peace as long as he should possess, or should be in a situation to attain, supreme power in France; and care must be taken,” he adds, “in making the arrangements consequent upon our success, that we do not leave the world in the same unfortunate situation respecting France that it would have been in if Buonaparte had continued in possession of his power.”
The Duke then goes on to review the situation. If Louis XVIII were to refuse the cession of territory, his people would undoubtedly support him, and the Allies “might take the fortresses and provinces which might suit them, but there would be no genuine peace for the world, no nation could disarm, no Sovereign could turn his attention from the affairs of this country.” If the King consented to the partition, “which, from all that one hears, is an event by no means probable, the Allies must be satisfied, and must retire; but I would appeal to the experience of the transactions of last year for a statement of the situation in which we should find ourselves.” France was then reduced to her limits of 1792, and “the Allies were obliged to maintain each in the field half of the war establishment stipulated in the treaty of Chaumont, in order to guard their conquests, and what had been ceded to them.” In France “the general topic of conversation was the recovery of the left bank of the Rhine as the frontier of France.” Wellington therefore preferred “the temporary occupation of some of the strong places, and to maintain for a time a strong force in France, both at the expense of the French Government, and under strict regulation, to the permanent cession of even all the places which in my opinion ought to be occupied for a time. These measures will not only give us, during the period of occupation, all the military security which could be expected from the permanent cession, but, if carried into execution in the spirit in which they are conceived, they are in themselves the bond of peace.”
During the remainder of his stay in France, broken by a short visit to England in 1816, Wellington was far from popular, and one or two attempts were made on his life. It was scarcely to be expected that a man who had been pre-eminently successful in the field against the nation’s armies would be lauded as a popular hero, but, as we have seen, he had helped to save the country from a bitter and vindictive humiliation. He finally returned home in 1818, when the Army of Occupation evacuated France with the consent of the Powers at the request of its Commander-in-Chief. He never again drew his sword in warfare, but he maintained a commanding position in the affairs of Great Britain until the close of his long life.
His honours and orders were now varied and many. England and foreign countries honoured themselves by honouring him. Parliament voted him £200,000 for the erection or purchase of Strathfieldsaye, Hampshire, and the estate granted to him as Prince of Waterloo by the King of the Netherlands was valued at £4000 per annum. On his return to England he became Master of the Ordnance, which entitled him to a seat in the Cabinet.