"The Emperor Napoleon must become King of France. Up to now all his work has been done for the Empire. He lost the Empire when he lost his army. When he no longer makes war for the army, he will make peace for the French people, and then he will become King of France."—Such were the words of the most sagacious of French statesmen to Schwarzenberg. They were spoken on April 15th, 1813, when it still seemed likely that Napoleon would meet halfway the wishes of Austria. Such, at least, was Talleyrand's ardent hope. He saw the innate absurdity of attempting to browbeat Austria, and strangle the infant Hercules of German nationality, after the Grand Army had been lost in Russia.
If this was reasonable in the spring of 1813, it was an imperative necessity at the close of the year. Napoleon had in the meantime lost 400,000 men: and he could not now say, as he did to Metternich of his losses in Russia, that "nearly half were Germans." The men who had fallen in Saxony, or who bravely held out in the Polish, German, and Spanish fortresses, were nearly all French. They were, what the triarii were to the Roman legion, the reserves of the fighting manhood of France. That unhappy land was growing restless under its disasters. In Spain, Wellington had blockaded Pamplona, stormed St. Sebastian, thrown Soult back on the Pyrenees in a series of desperate conflicts, and planted the British flag on the soil of France, eleven days before Napoleon was overthrown at Leipzig. Then, pressing northwards, in compliance with the urgent appeals of the allied sovereigns, our great commander assailed the lines south of the Nivelle, on which the French had been working for three months, drove the enemy out of them and back over the river, with a loss of 4,200 men and 51 guns (November 10th).[385]
The same tale was told in the north. The allies were welcomed by the secondary German princes, who, in return for compacts guaranteeing their sovereignty, promised to raise contingents that amounted in all to upwards of a quarter of a million of men. Bernadotte marched against the Danes and cut off Davoust in Hamburg, where that Marshal bravely held out to the end of the war. Elsewhere in the north Napoleon's domination quickly mouldered away. Bülow, aided by a small British force, invaded Holland early in November; and, with the old cry of Orange boven, the Dutch tore down the French tricolour and welcomed back the Prince of Orange. In Italy, Eugène remained faithful to his step-father and repulsed all the overtures of the allies: but Murat, whose allegiance had already been shaken by the secret offers of the allies, now began to show signs of going over to them, as he did at the dawn of the New Year.[386]
Meanwhile Napoleon had arrived at Paris (November 9th). He found his capital sunk in depression, and indignant at the author of its miseries. Peace was the dearest wish of all. Marie Louise confessed it by her tears, Cambacérès by his tactful reserve, and the people by their cries, while the sullen demeanour or bitter words of the Marshals showed that their patience was exhausted. Evidently a scapegoat was needed: it was found in the person of Maret, Duc de Bassano, whose devotion to Napoleon had reduced the Ministry of Foreign Affairs to a highly paid clerkship. For the crime of not bending his master's inflexible will at Dresden, he was now cast as a sop to the peace party; and his portfolio was intrusted to Caulaincourt, Duc de Vicenza (November 20th). The change was salutary. The new Minister, when ambassador at St. Petersburg, had been highly esteemed by the Czar for his frank, chivalrous demeanour. Our countrywoman, Lady Burghersh, afterwards testified to his personal charm: "I never saw a countenance so expressive of kindness, sweetness, and openness."[387] And these gifts were fortified by a manly intelligence, a profound love of France, and by devotion to her highest interests. The first of her interests was obviously peace; and there now seemed some chance of his conferring this boon on her and on the world at large.
On November the 8th and 9th Metternich had two interviews at Frankfurt with Baron St. Aignan, a brother-in-law of Caulaincourt, and formerly the French envoy at Weimar. The Austrian Minister assured him of the moderation of the allies, especially of England, and of their wish for a lasting peace founded on the principle of the balance of power. France must give up all control of Spain, Italy, and Germany, and return to her natural frontiers, the Rhine, the Alps, and the Pyrenees. Lord Aberdeen, our ambassador to Austria, and Count Nesselrode, the Russian Minister for Foreign Affairs, were present at the second interview, and assented to this statement, the latter pledging his word that it had the approval of Prussia. Aberdeen added his assurance that England was prepared to relax her maritime code and sacrifice many of her conquests in order to attain a durable peace. To these Frankfurt overtures Napoleon charged Maret to answer in vaguely favourable terms, and to suggest the meeting of a European Congress at Mannheim. The effect of this Note (November 16th) was marred by the strange statement—"a peace based on the independence of all nations, both from the continental and the maritime point of view, has always been the constant object of the desires and policy of the Emperor [Napoleon]."[388]
Metternich in reply pointed out that the French Government had not accepted the proposed terms as a basis for negotiations. The new Foreign Minister, Caulaincourt, sent off (December 2nd) an acceptance which was far more frank and satisfactory; but the day before he penned it, the allies had virtually withdrawn their offer, as they had told him they would do if it was not speedily accepted. They had all along decided not to stay the military operations; and, as these were still flowing strongly in their favour, they could not be expected to keep open an offer which was exceedingly favourable to Napoleon even at the time when it was made, that is, before the support of the Dutch, of the Swiss, and of Murat was fully assured.
It may be well to pause for a moment to inquire what were the views of the allied Governments, and of Napoleon himself, at this crisis when Europe was seething in the political crucible. Had Metternich the full assent of those Governments when he offered the French Emperor the natural frontiers? Here we must separate the views of Lord Aberdeen from those of the British Cabinet, as represented by its Foreign Minister, Lord Castlereagh: and we must also distinguish between the Emperor Alexander and his Minister, Nesselrode, a man of weak character, in whom he had little confidence. Certainly the British Cabinet was not disposed to leave Antwerp in Napoleon's hands.
"This nation," wrote Castlereagh to Aberdeen on November 13th, "is likely to view with disfavour any peace which does not confine France within her ancient limits…. We are still ready to encounter, with our allies, the hazards of peace, if peace can be made on the basis proposed, satisfactorily executed [sic]; and we are not inclined to go out of our way to interfere in the internal government of France, however much we might desire to see it placed in more pacific hands. But I am satisfied we must not encourage our allies to patch up an imperfect arrangement. If they will do so, we must submit; but it should appear, in that case, to be their own act, and not ours…. I must particularly entreat you to keep your attention upon Antwerp. The destruction of that arsenal is essential to our safety. To leave it in the hands of France is little short of imposing upon Great Britain the charge of a perpetual war establishment."[389]
Thenceforth British policy inclined, though tentatively and with some hesitations, to the view that it was needful in the interests of peace to bring France back to the limits of 1791, that is, of withdrawing from her, not only Holland, the Rhineland and Italy, but also Belgium, Savoy, and Nice. The Prussian patriots were far more decided. They were determined that France should not dominate the Rhineland and overawe Germany from the fortresses of Mainz, Coblenz, and Wesel. On this subject Arndt spoke forth with no uncertain sound in a pamphlet—"The Rhine, Germany's river, not her boundary"—which proved that the French claim to the Rhine frontier was consonant neither with the teachings of history nor the distribution of the two peoples. The pamphlet had an immense effect in stirring up Germans to attack the cherished French doctrine of the natural frontiers, and it clinched the claim which he had put forward in his "Fatherland" song of the year before. It bade Germans strive for Trèves and Cologne, aye, even for Strassburg and Metz. Hardenberg and Stein, differing on most points, united in praising this work. Even before it appeared, the former chafed at the thought of Napoleon holding the left bank of the Rhine. On hearing of Metternich's Frankfurt offer to the French Emperor, he wrote in his diary: "Propositions of peace without my assent—Rhine, Alps, Pyrenees: a mad business."[390]
Frederick William's views were less pronounced: in fact, his proneness to see a lion in every path earned for him the sobriquet of Cassandra in his Chancellor's diary. But in the main he was swayed by the Czar; and that autocrat was now determined to dictate at Paris a peace that would rid him of all prospect of his great rival's revenge. Vanity and fear alike prescribed such a course of action. He longed to lead his magnificent Guards to Paris, there to display his clemency in contrast to the action of the French at Moscow; and this sentiment was fed by fear of Napoleon. The latter motive was concealed, of course, but Lord Aberdeen gauged its power during a private interview that he had with Alexander at Freiburg (December 24th): "He talked with great freedom: he is more decided than ever as to the necessity of perseverance, and puts little trust in the fair promises of Bonaparte.—'So long as he lives there can be no security'—he repeated it two or three times."[391] We can therefore understand his concern lest the Frankfurt terms should be accepted outright by Napoleon. Metternich, however, assured him that the French Emperor would not assent;[392] and, as in regard to the Prague Congress, he was substantially correct.