The contrast between these wiles to gain a momentary advantage, and the manly, vigorous policy of lord Wellington must make honest men of all nations blush for the cunning which diplomatists call policy. On one side the arts of guileful negociation masked with fair protestations but accompanied by a savage and revolting system of warfare; on the other a broad open hostility declared on manly and just grounds followed up with a strict regard to humanity and good faith; nothing put forward with an equivocal meaning and the actions true to the word. On the eastern frontier the Cossack let loose to ravage with all the barbarity of Asiatic warfare. On the western frontier the Spaniards turned back into their own country in the very midst of triumph, for daring to pass the bounds of discipline prescribed by the wise and generous policy of their commander. Terror and desolation and the insurrection of a people rendered frantic by the cruelty of the invaders marked the progress of the ferocious multitudes who crossed the Rhine. Order and tranquillity, profound even on the very edge of the battle-field, attended the march of the civilized army which passed the Bidassoa. And what were the military actions? Napoleon rising even above himself hurtled against the armed myriads opposed to him with such a terrible energy that though ten times his number they were rolled back on every side in confusion and dismay. But Wellington advanced without a check, victorious in every battle, although one half of the veterans opposed to him would have decided the campaign on the eastern frontier. Nor can this be gainsaid, since Napoleon’s career in this campaign was only stayed by the defection of his brother-in-law Murat, and by the sickening treachery of two marshals to whom he had been prodigal of benefits. It is undeniable that lord Wellington with sixty thousand Anglo-Portuguese acting in the south, effected more than half a million of the allies were able to effect on the opposite side of France; and yet Soult’s army on the 10th of November was stronger than that with which Napoleon fought the battle of Brienne.
That great man was never personally deceived by the allies’ pretended negociations. He joined issue with them to satisfy the French people that he was not averse to peace, but his instructions dated the 4th of January and addressed to Caulaincourt prove at once his sagacity and firmness. “I think,” he said, “that both the allies good faith and the wish of England to make peace is doubtful; for my part I desire peace but it must be solid and honourable. I have accepted the basis proposed at Frankfort yet it is more than probable the allies have other notions. These propositions are but a mask, the negociations are placed under the influence of the military operations and it is easy to foresee what the consequences of such a system must be. It is necessary therefore to listen to and observe every thing. It is not certain even that you will be admitted to the head-quarters of the allies. The Russians and the English watch to prevent any opening for explanation and reconciliation with the emperor of Austria. You must therefore endeavour to ascertain the real views of the allies and let me know day by day what you learn that I may frame instructions for which at present I have no sure grounds.”
The internal state of France was more disquieting to his mind than foreign negociations or the number of invaders. The sincere republicans were naturally averse to him as the restorer of monarchy, yet they should have felt that the sovereign whose ruin was so eagerly sought by the legitimate kings and nobles of Europe could not be really opposed to liberty. Meanwhile the advocates of legitimacy shrunk from him as an usurper, and all those tired of war, and they were a majority of the nation, judging from the stupendous power of his genius that he had only to will peace to attain it with security, blamed his tardiness in negociation. An unexpected opposition to his wishes was also displayed in the legislative body, and the partizans of the Bourbons were endeavouring to form a great conspiracy in favour of that house. There were many traitors likewise to him and to their country, men devoid of principle, patriotism, or honour, who with instinctive hatred of a failing cause plotted to thwart his projects for the defence of the nation. In fine the men of action and the men of theories were alike combined for mischief. Nor is this outbreak of passion to be wondered at when it is considered how recently Napoleon had stopped the anarchy of the revolution and rebuilt the social and political structure in France. But of all who by their untimely opposition to the emperor hurt their country, the most pernicious were those silly politicians, whom he so felicitously described as “discussing abstract systems of government when the battering ram was at the gates.”
Such however has been in all ages the conduct of excited and disturbed nations, and it seems to be inherent in human nature, because a saving policy can only be understood and worked to good by master-spirits, and they are few and far between, their time on earth short, their task immense. They have not time to teach, they must command although they know that pride and ignorance and even honesty will carp at the despotism which brings general safety. It was this vain short-sighted impatience that drove Hannibal into exile, caused the assassination of Cæsar, and strewed thorns beneath the gigantic footsteps of Oliver Cromwell. It raged fiercely in Spain against lord Wellington, and in France against Napoleon, and always with the most grievous injury to the several nations. Time only hallows human institutions. Under that guarantee men will yield implicit obedience and respect to the wildest caprices of the most stupid tyrant that ever disgraced a throne, and wanting it they will cavil at and reject the wisest measures of the most sublime genius. The painful notion is thus excited, that if governments are conducted with just the degree of stability and tranquillity which they deserve and no more, the people of all nations, much as they may be oppressed, enjoy upon an average of years precisely the degree of liberty they are fitted for. National discontents mark, according to their bitterness and constancy, not so much the oppression of the rulers as the real progress of the ruled in civilization and its attendant political knowledge. When from peculiar circumstances those discontents explode in violent revolutions, shattering the fabric of society and giving free vent and activity to all the passions and follies of mankind, fortunate is the nation which possesses a Napoleon or an Oliver Cromwell “to step into their state of dominion with spirit to controul and capacity to subdue the factions of the hour and reconstruct the frame of reasonable government.”
For great as these two men were in the field of battle, especially the former, they were infinitely greater when they placed themselves in the seat of power, and put forth the gigantic despotism of genius essential to the completion of their holy work. Nor do I hold the conduct of Washington to be comparable to either of those men. His situation was one of infinitely less difficulty, and there is no reason to believe that his capacity would have been equal to the emergencies of a more formidable crisis than he had to deal with. Washington could not have made himself master of all had it been necessary and he so inclined, for he was neither the foremost general nor the foremost statesman of his nation. His forbearance was a matter of necessity, and his love of liberty did not prevent him from bequeathing his black slaves to his widow.
Such was Napoleon’s situation, and as he read the signs of the times truly he knew that in his military skill and the rage of the peasants at the ravages of the enemy he must find the means to extricate himself from his difficulties, or rather to extricate his country, for self had no place in his policy save as his personal glory was identified with France and her prosperity. Never before did the world see a man, soaring so high and devoid of all selfish ambition. Let those who honestly seeking truth doubt this, study Napoleon carefully; let them read the record of his second abdication published by his brother Lucien, that stern republican who refused kingdoms as the price of his principles, and they will doubt no longer. It is not however with these matters that this History has to deal but with the emperor’s measures affecting his lieutenants on the Spanish frontier of France. There disaffection to his government was extensive but principally from local causes. The conscription was peculiarly hateful to the wild mountaineers, who like most borderers cherish very independent notions. The war with England had ruined the foreign commerce of their great towns, and the advantage of increased traffic by land on the east was less directly felt in the south. There also the recollection of the Vendean struggle still lingered and the partizans of the Bourbons had many connections. But the chief danger arose from the just and politic conduct of lord Wellington which, offering no cause of anger and very much of private advantage to the people, gave little or no hope of insurrection from sufferings.
While France was in this state England presented a scene of universal exultation. Tory politics were triumphant, opposition in the parliament was nearly crushed by events, the press was either subdued by persecution or in the pay of the ministers, and the latter with undisguised joy hailed the coming moment when aristocratic tyranny was to be firmly established in England. The most enormous subsidies and military supplies were poured into the continent, and an act was passed to enable three-fourths of the militia to serve abroad. They were not however very forward to volunteer, and a new army which ought to have reinforced Wellington was sent, under the command of general Graham, to support the insurrection of Holland, where it was of necessity engaged in trifling or unsuccessful operations in no manner affecting the great objects of the war. Meanwhile the importance of lord Wellington’s army and views was quite overlooked or misunderstood. The ministers persevered in the foolish plan of removing him to another quarter of Europe, and at the same time, instigated by the ambassadors of the allied sovereigns, were continually urging him to push his operations with more vigour in France. As if he was the man who had done least!
His letters were filled with strong and well-founded complaints that his army was neglected. Let his real position be borne in mind. He had, not as a military man but with a political view and to meet the wishes of the allied sovereigns backed by the importunities of his own government, placed himself in a confined and difficult district of France, where his operations were cramped by rivers and fortresses and by a powerful army occupying strong positions on his front and flanks. In this situation, unable to act at all in wet weather, he was necessarily dependent upon the ocean for supplies and reinforcements, and upon the Spanish authorities for his hospitals, depôts, and communications. Numbers were requisite to balance the advantages derived by the enemy from the peculiar conformation of the country and the position of the fortresses. Money also was wanted to procure supplies which he could not carry with him, and must pay for exactly, if he would avoid a general insurrection and the consequent ruin of the political object for which he had adopted such critical military operations. But though he had undertaken the invasion of France at the express desire of the government the latter seemed to be alike ignorant of its importance and of the means to accomplish it, at one moment urging progress beyond reason, at another ready to change lightly what they had proposed ignorantly. Their unsettled policy proved their incapacity even to comprehend the nature of the great tide of events on which they floated rather than sailed. Lord Wellington was forced day by day to teach them the value of their own schemes, and to show them how small their knowledge was of the true bearing of the political and military affairs they pretended to direct.
“Assure,” he wrote on the 21st of December to lord Bathurst, in reply to one of their ill-founded remonstrances, “Assure the Russian ambassador there is nothing I can do to forward the general interest that I will not do. What do they require? I am already further advanced on the French territory than any of the allied powers, and better prepared to take advantage of any opportunities which might offer as a consequence of my own situation or of their proceedings.”—“In military operations there are some things which can not be done, and one is to move troops in this country during or immediately after a violent fall of rain. To attempt it will be to lose more men than can be replaced, a guilty waste of life.”
“The proper scene of action for the army was undoubtedly a question for the government to decide, but with thirty thousand men in the Peninsula, he had for five years held two hundred thousand of Napoleon’s best soldiers in check, since it was ridiculous to suppose that the Spaniards and Portuguese could have resisted for a moment if the British troops had been withdrawn. The French armies actually employed against him could not be less than one hundred thousand men, more if he included garrisons, and the French newspapers spoke of orders to form a fresh reserve of one hundred thousand at Bordeaux. Was there any man weak enough to suppose one-third of the number first mentioned would be employed against the Spaniards and Portuguese if the British were withdrawn? They would if it were an object with Buonaparte to conquer the Peninsula and he would in that case succeed; but he was more likely to give peace to the Peninsula and turn against the allied sovereigns his two hundred thousand men of which one hundred thousand were such troops as their armies had not yet dealt with. The war every day offered a crisis the result of which might affect the world for ages, and to change the scene of operations for the British army would render it incapable of fighting for four months, even if the scene were Holland, and it would even then be a deteriorated machine.”