Shortly after this note had been lodged, Buonaparte, incensed at the message of the King to Parliament, seems to have formed the scheme of bringing the protracted negotiations betwixt France and England to a point, in a time, place, and manner, equally extraordinary. At a public court held at the Tuileries, on the 13th March, the chief consul came up to Lord Whitworth in considerable agitation, and observed aloud, and within hearing of the circle,—"You are then determined on war?"—and, without attending to the disclamations of the English ambassador, proceeded,—"We have been at war for fifteen years—you are determined on hostility for fifteen years more—and you force me to it."[21] He then addressed Count Marcow and the Chevalier Azara—"The English wish for war; but if they draw the sword first, I will be the last to return it to the scabbard. They do not respect treaties, which henceforth we must cover with black crape."[22] He then again addressed Lord Whitworth—"To what purpose are these armaments? Against whom do you take these measures of precaution? I have not a single ship of the line in any port in France: But if you arm, I too will take up arms—if you fight, I will fight—you may destroy France, but you cannot intimidate her."
"We desire neither the one nor the other," answered Lord Whitworth, calmly: "We desire to live with her on terms of good intelligence."
"You must respect treaties, then," said Buonaparte, sternly. "Woe to those by whom they are not respected! They will be accountable for the consequences to all Europe."
So saying, and repeating his last remark twice over, he retired from the levee, leaving the whole circle surprised at the want of decency and dignity which had given rise to such a scene.[23]
This remarkable explosion may be easily explained, if we refer it entirely to the impatience of a fiery temper, rendered, by the most extraordinary train of success, morbidly sensitive to any obstacle which interfered with a favourite plan; and, doubtless, it is not the least evil of arbitrary power, that he who possesses it is naturally tempted to mix up his own feelings of anger, revenge, or mortification, in affairs which ought to be treated under the most calm and impartial reference to the public good exclusively. But it has been averred by those who had best opportunity to know Buonaparte, that the fits of violent passion which he sometimes displayed, were less the bursts of unrepressed and constitutional irritability, than means previously calculated upon to intimidate and astound those with whom he was treating at the time. There may, therefore, have been policy amid the first consul's indignation, and he may have recollected, that the dashing to pieces Cobentzel's china jar in the violent scene which preceded the signing of the treaty of Campo Formio,[24] was completely successful in its issue. But the condition of Britain was very different from that of Austria, and he might have broken all the porcelain at St. Cloud without making the slightest impression on the equanimity of Lord Whitworth. This "angry parle," therefore, went for nothing, unless in so far as it was considered as cutting off the faint remaining hope of peace, and expressing the violent and obstinate temper of the individual, upon whose pleasure, whether originating in judgment or caprice, the fate of Europe at this important crisis unhappily depended. In England, the interview at the Tuileries, where Britain was held to be insulted in the person of her ambassador, and that in the presence of the representatives of all Europe, greatly augmented the general spirit of resentment.[25]
Talleyrand, to whom Lord Whitworth applied for an explanation of the scene which had occurred, only answered, that the first consul, publicly affronted, as he conceived himself, desired to exculpate himself in presence of the ministers of all the powers of Europe.[26] The question of peace or war came now to turn on the subject of Malta. The retention of this fortress by the English could infer no danger to France; whereas, if parted with by them under an insecure guarantee, the great probability of its falling into the hands of France, was a subject of the most legitimate jealousy to Britain, who must always have regarded the occupation of Malta as a preliminary step to the recapture of Egypt. There seemed policy, therefore, in Napoleon's conceding this point, and obtaining for France that respite, which, while it regained her colonies and recruited her commerce, would have afforded her the means of renewing a navy, which had been almost totally destroyed during the war, and consequently of engaging England, at some future and propitious time, on the element which she called peculiarly her own. It was accordingly supposed to be Talleyrand's opinion, that, by giving way to England on the subject of Malta, Napoleon ought to lull her suspicions to sleep.
Yet there were strong reasons, besides the military character of Buonaparte, which might induce the first consul to break off negotiation. His empire was founded on the general opinion entertained of his inflexibility of purpose, and of his unvaried success, alike in political objects as in the field of battle. Were he to concede the principle which England now contested with him in the face of Europe, it would have in a certain degree derogated from the pre-eminence of the situation he claimed, as autocrat of the civilized world. In that character he could not recede an inch from pretensions which he had once asserted. To have allowed that his encroachment on Switzerland and Piedmont rendered it necessary that he should grant a compensation to England, by consenting to her retention of Malta, would have been to grant that Britain had still a right to interfere in the affairs of the continent, and to point her out to nations disposed to throw off the French yoke, as a power to whose mediation he still owed some deference. These reasons were not without force in themselves, and, joined to the natural impetuosity of Buonaparte's temper, irritated and stung by the attacks in the English papers, had their weight probably in inducing him to give way to that sally of resentment, by which he endeavoured to cut short the debate, as he would have brought up his guard in person to decide the fate of a long-disputed action.
Some lingering and hopeless attempts were made to carry on negotiations. The English Ministry lowered their claim of retaining Malta in perpetuity to their right of holding it for ten years. Buonaparte, on the other hand, would listen to no modification of the treaty of Amiens, but offered, as the guarantee afforded by the occupation of Neapolitan troops was objected to, that the garrison should consist of Russians or Austrians. To this proposal Britain would not accede. Lord Whitworth left Paris, and, on the 18th May, 1803, Britain declared war against France.
Before we proceed to detail the history of this eventful struggle, we must cast our eyes backwards, and review some events of importance which had happened in France since the conclusion of the treaty of Amiens.