Peter III. withdrew from the Austrian alliance, and concluded peace with Prussia. But his reign was not destined to be long. At once weak in intellect, and profligate in habits, he offended and alarmed his empress, by personal neglect, and by threats of sending her to a convent. Catherine, a German, and not accustomed to the submissiveness of Russian wives, formed a party against him. The people were on her side; and, what was of more importance, the Guards declared for her. An insurrection took place; the foolish Czar, after a six months’ reign, was dethroned July 1762, was sent to a prison, and within a week was no more. The Russians assigned his death to poison, to strangulation, or to some other species of atrocity. Europe talked for a while of the “Russian Tragedy!” but the emperor left no regrets behind him; and “Catherina, Princess of Anhalt Zerbst,” handsome, young, accomplished, and splendid, ascended a throne of which her subjects were proud; which collected round it the elite of Germany, its philosophers and soldiers; which the empress connected with the beaux esprits of France, and the orators and statesmen of England; and which, during her long, prosperous, and ambitious reign, united the pomp of Asia with the brilliancy and power of Europe. The shroud of the Czar was speedily forgotten, in the embroidered robe which Catherine threw over the empire.
But the greatest crime of European annals was committed in this bold and triumphant reign. Russia, Prussia, and Austria, tempted by the helplessness of Poland, formed a league to seize upon portions of its territory; and the partition of 1772 took place, to the utter astonishment of Europe, but with scarcely a remonstrance from its leading powers.
Poland had so long been contented to receive its sovereign from Russia, its religions disputes had so utterly weakened the people, its nobility were so profligate, and its peasantry were so poor, that it had lost all the sinews of national defence. It therefore fell an easy prey; and only waited, like a slave in the market, till the bargain for its sale was complete.
In 1793, a second partition was effected. In the next year, the Polish troops took up arms under the celebrated Kosciusko; but the Russians advanced on Warsaw with a force which defied all resistance. Warsaw was stormed, twenty thousand gallant men were slain in its defence, Suwarroff was master of the unfortunate capital; and, in 1795, the third and last partition extinguished the kingdom.
Having performed this terrible exploit, which was to be as terribly avenged, the career of Catherine was closed. She died suddenly in 1796.
Paul, her son, ascended the throne, which he held for five years; a mixture of the imbecility of his father, and the daring spirit of his mother. Zealous for the honour of Russia, yet capricious as the winds, he first made war upon the French Republic, and then formed a naval league to destroy the maritime supremacy of England. This measure was his ruin; England was the old ally of Russia,—France was the new enemy. The nation hated the arrogance and the atheism of France, and resolved on the overthrow of the Czar. In Russia the monarch is so far removed from his people, that he has no refuge among them in case of disaster. Paul was believed to be mad, and madness, on a despotic throne, justly startles a nation. A band of conspirators broke into his palace at midnight, strangled the master of fifty millions of men, and the nation, at morning, was in a tumult of joy.
His son, Alexander, ascended the throne amid universal acclamation. His first act was peace with England. In 1805, his troops joined the Austrian army, and bore their share in the sufferings of the campaign of Austerlitz. The French invasion of Poland, in two years after, the desperate drawn battle of Eylau, and the disaster of Friedland, led to the peace of Tilsit. Alexander then joined the Continental system of Napoleon; but this system was soon found to be so ruinous to Russian commerce, as to be intolerable. Napoleon, already marked for downfall, was rejoiced to take advantage of the Russian reluctance, and instantly marched across the Polish frontier, at the head of a French and allied army amounting to the astonishing number of five hundred thousand men.
Infatuation was now visible in every step of his career. Instead of organising Poland into a kingdom, which would have been a place of retreat in case of disaster; and, whether in disaster or victory, would have been a vast national fortification against the advance of Russia, he left it behind him; and, instead of waiting for the return of spring, commenced his campaign on the verge of winter, in the land of winter itself, and madly ran all the hazards of invading a boundless empire of which he knew nothing, of which the people were brave, united, and attached to their sovereign; and of which, if the armies had fled like deer, the elements would have fought the battle.
Napoleon was now infatuated in all things, infatuated in his diplomacy at Moscow, and infatuated in the rashness, the hurry, and the confusion of his retreat. His army perished by brigades and divisions. On the returning spring, three hundred thousand men were found buried in the snow; all his spoil was lost, his veteran troops were utterly destroyed, his fame was tarnished, and his throne was shaken.
He was followed into France by the troops of Russia and Germany. In 1814, the British army under Wellington crossed the Pyrenees, and liberated the southern provinces of France. In the same year, the Austrian, Prussian, and Russian armies marched to Paris, captured the capital, and expelled Napoleon. The battle of Waterloo, in the year after, destroyed the remnant of his legions in the field, threw him into the hands of the British government, and exiled him to St Helena, where he remained a British prisoner until he died.