What did Alexander mean by “our cause,” which might be ruined by Napoleon’s consent to allow Austria to mediate? If peace was all that the Allies wanted, why demur to Austria’s offer?
And what did Metternich mean by assuring the Czar that it made no difference whether Napoleon declined or accepted, the results would be the same?
Evidently he meant to convince Alexander that “our cause” was as dear to Austria as to Russia; and that if Napoleon trusted to Austrian mediation, he would be deceived and despoiled. The Czar so understood it, and he “seemed exceedingly well pleased.”
The political meaning of “our cause” was this: English diplomats had been unusually busy, and had (June 14 and 15, 1813) negotiated new treaties with Russia and Prussia whereby Great Britain agreed to pay heavy subsidies to those powers to prosecute the war, which was not to be ended without England’s consent.
Inasmuch as England was no party to the negotiations then pending between Napoleon and the Allies, one of two things is obvious: the Allies were intent upon betraying England, or of duping France. As to which of the two it was meant to deceive, the language used by Metternich to Alexander, and by Alexander to Metternich, leaves no doubt.
What, on the other hand, were the thoughts of Napoleon? On June 2, 1813, he wrote to Eugène, who had been sent back to Italy, “I shall grant a truce on account of the armaments of Austria, and in order to gain time to bring up the Italian army to Laybach to threaten Vienna.”
There are those who see in this a proof that Napoleon did not desire peace. Read in the light of the surrounding circumstances, it is just as easy to see in the letter an evidence that Napoleon merely wished to escape Austrian dictation.
He had already offered to treat for peace with Russia and Prussia; and they, controlled by English influence, had refused to treat, save through Austria.
Anxious, suspicious, harassed by all sorts of cares, Napoleon summoned Metternich to Dresden.
Napoleon understood Metternich thoroughly, and despised him. With this man, as with Fouché, Talleyrand, and Bernadotte, the proud Corsican had too lightly indulged in the perilous license of contempt.