In his spiteful Memoirs, Barras labors hard to draw a repulsive portrait of the Napoleon of Toulon. The young officer is represented as bustling about with a bundle of his Supper of Beaucaire, handing copies right and left to officers and men. He is made to profess rank Jacobinism, and to allude to Robespierre and Marat as “my saints.” He pays servile court to the wife of Commissioner Ricord, and to the Convention potentates generally. Of course he was on his knees to Barras. That lofty magnate stoops low enough to mention, as a matter detrimental to Napoleon, that his uniform was worn out and dirty—as if a tattered and soiled uniform at the close of such a siege, such herculean work, could have been anything but a badge of honor to the soldier who wore it! Dugommier’s official report on the taking of Toulon contains no mention of Napoleon by name, but he uses this expression, “The fire from our batteries, directed with the greatest talent,” etc. This allusion could have been to no other than to Napoleon.
To the minister of war Duteil wrote on December 19, 1793, “I cannot find words to describe the merit of Bonaparte; a considerable amount of science, just as much intelligence, and too much bravery, such is a feeble outline of the virtues of that rare officer.”
The Commissioners themselves, whose names crowded the name of Bonaparte out of the official report, recognized his services by at once nominating him to the post of general of brigade.
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English authors dwell extensively on Napoleon’s hatred of their country: do they never recall the origin of the feeling? Had not England deceived old Paoli, crushed the opposite faction, and treated Corsica as a conquest? Was it not the English faction which had sacked the home, confiscated the property, and sought the lives of the Bonaparte family? Had not England been striving to force the Bourbons back on France; had it not seized the French ships at Toulon “in trust”; had it not then given to the flames not only the ships, but dockyards, arsenals, and magazines? Did not William Pitt, in the King’s speech of 1794, include among the subjects of congratulation “the circumstances attending the evacuation of Toulon”? Had not England, in 1793, bargained with Austria to despoil France and divide the booty: Austria to have Alsace and Lorraine; and England to have the foreign settlements and colonies of France? “His Majesty” (of England) “has an interest in seeing the house of Austria strengthen itself by acquisitions on the French frontier; the Emperor” (of Austria) “must see with pleasure the relative increase of the naval and commercial resources of this country” (England) “over those of France.”
Historians have long said that England’s war with France was forced upon her, that it was defensive. Does the language just quoted (official despatches) sound like the terms of self-defence? It is the language of aggression, of unscrupulous conquest; and the spirit which dictated this bargain between two powers to despoil a third is the same which gave life to each successive combination against the French Republic and the Napoleonic Empire.
Like master, like man: the British ministry having adopted the policy of blind and rancorous hostility in dealing with France, the same fury of hatred pervaded the entire public service. Edmund Burke and William Pitt inoculated the whole nation. “Young gentlemen,” said Nelson to his midshipmen, “among the things you must constantly bear in mind is to hate a Frenchman as you would the devil.” At another time, the same illustrious Englishman declared, “I hate all Frenchmen; they are equally the object of my detestation, whether royalists or republicans.” Writing to the Duke of Clarence, he stated: “To serve my king and to destroy the French, I consider the great order of all.... Down, down with the damned French villains! My blood boils at the name of Frenchman!” At Naples he exclaimed, “Down, down with the French! is my constant prayer.”
I quote Nelson simply because he was a controlling factor in these wars, a representative Englishman, a man in full touch with the policy, purpose, and passion of his government.
Consider England’s bargain with Austria; consider her bribes to Prussia to continue the struggle when even Austria had withdrawn; consider the animus of such leading actors as Burke and Nelson—is it any wonder that Napoleon regarded Great Britain as the one irreconcilable and mortal enemy of France?
And what was England’s grievance? Her rival across the Channel had overturned a throne, slain a king, and proclaimed principles which were at war with established tyranny. But had England never upset a throne, slain a king, and proclaimed a republic?