On the other hand, Napoleon, in determining on a conflict of which he did not disguise from himself the importance, awoke for a moment to his former sense of the necessity of using able men in great affairs, and was disposed, notwithstanding his disagreements with M. de Talleyrand, to send him to Warsaw to organise a kingdom of Poland; nor was it surprising that, confident in the sagacity and tact of the agent he thought of employing, he was also satisfied that, in the event of that agent’s accepting employment, he might count perfectly on his fidelity; for throughout M. de Talleyrand’s long career and frequent changes there is not any instance of his having betrayed any one from whom he accepted a trust. The difficulty of reconciling the Prince de Benevent’s position with that of the Duc de Bassano, who accompanied the Emperor on this campaign as minister of foreign affairs, prevented, it is said, the projected arrangement. But neither during this transient gleam of returning favour, nor after it, did M. de Talleyrand’s opinion against the chances which Napoleon was unnecessarily (as he thought) running, ever vary; neither were they disguised. He insisted principally on the chance of war, which often decides against the ablest general and the most skilful combinations; on the great loss which would result from a defeat, and the small gain that would follow a victory. The whole of Europe that the reckless general left behind him was, he knew, kept down merely by fear and constraint, and though ready to assist an advancing army, certain to fall on a retreating one. Besides, supposing defeat was almost impossible, what had France to gain by success?
Alexander might reiterate his promise of preventing all commercial interchange between Great Britain and his dominions; but would he be able to keep that promise? He could not. The mind of Napoleon, however, had now been trained by Fortune to consider wars mere military parades, shortly after the commencement of which he entered the capital of his conquered enemy and returned to Paris to be greeted by enthusiastic acclamations at the theatre. He required this sort of excitement, and like most men similarly influenced, convinced himself that what was pleasing to his vanity was demanded by his interests.
There were three epochs, indeed, in Napoleon’s career: the first, when he fought for glory abroad to gain empire at home; the second, when, being master of the government of France, he fought to extend the limits of France, and to make himself the most powerful individual in his nation, and his nation the most powerful nation in the world; the third, when France being but a secondary consideration, his ambition was bent on becoming master of the universe, and acquiring a dominion of which France would be almost an insignificant portion.
It is necessary to bear this in mind, since it explains Napoleon’s Russian campaign; it explains the difficulties he raised against withdrawing his troops from Germany after that campaign had ended in defeat; and his constant dislike to accept any conditions that put a positive extinguisher on his gigantic projects. To support his own confidence in such projects he persuaded himself that a charm attached to his existence, that supernatural means would arrive to him when natural means failed. He did not, however, neglect on this occasion the natural means.
When Fouché expressed his apprehensions at so vast an enterprise, the soldier’s answer is said to have been, “I wanted 800,000 men, and I have them.”56 But France had begun to be at this period wearied even with his successes; and the affair of Mallet, which happened just previously to the arrival of the bad intelligence from Russia, showed pretty clearly that her Emperor’s fall or defeat left an open space for any new system that circumstances might favour or impose.
No sooner, then, had the news that Moscow was burnt reached Paris than M. de Talleyrand considered the Bonapartist cause as lost. Not that Bonaparte might not yet have saved himself by prudence, but he was not prudent; not but that the French government might not yet have brought as many men in uniform into the field as the allies, but that nations fought on one side, and merely soldiers on the other.
The sagacious statesman, therefore, who now began again to be consulted, advised a conclusion of the war, promptly, at once, and on almost all conditions. So, again, when the defection of the Prussians was known, and Napoleon summoned a council to determine what should be done under such circumstances, he said: “Negotiate: you have now in your hands effects which you can give away; to-morrow they may be gone, and then the power to negotiate advantageously will be gone also.”57
During the armistice at Prague (June, 1813), when the prestige of two or three recent victories coloured the negotiations, and France might have had Holland, Italy, and her natural frontiers, both Talleyrand and Fouché, who was also asked for his advice, repeated constantly, “The Emperor has but one thing to do – to make peace; and the more quickly he makes it, the better he will make it.” So also, when M. de St. Aignan, after the battle of Leipsic, brought propositions from Frankfort, which might even yet have given France her frontier of the Rhine (November), M. de Talleyrand urged their acceptance with the least delay, and told the Emperor that a bad peace was better than the continuation of a war that could not end favourably.58
Napoleon himself at this time wavered, and with a momentary doubt as to his own judgment, and a remembrance very possibly of happier times, offered the portfolio of foreign affairs to his ancient minister, but on the condition that he should lay down the rank and emoluments of vice-grand-elector.
The object of the Emperor was thus to make M. de Talleyrand entirely dependent on his place; but M. de Talleyrand, who would have accepted the office, refused the condition, saying, “If the Emperor trusts me, he should not degrade me; and if he does not trust me, he should not employ me; the times are too difficult for half measures.”
The state of affairs at this period was assuredly most critical. In looking towards Spain, there was to be seen an English army, crowned by victory, and about to descend from the Pyrenees. In looking towards Germany, there was a whole population, whom former defeat had exasperated, and recent success encouraged, burning to cross the Rhine in search of the trophies of which an enemy still boasted. In Italy, a defection in the Emperor’s family was about to display the full extent of his misfortunes. In Holland, the colours of the exiled family (the House of Orange) were displayed with rapture amidst shouts for national independence; even the King of Denmark had left the French alliance; while in France a people unanimated by liberty, an army decimated by defeat, generals that had lost their hopes, and arsenals which were empty, were the sole resources with which its ruler had to encounter all Europe in arms.
The refusal of M. de Talleyrand, then, to accept office at such a time, unless with all the confidence and splendour that could give it authority, was natural enough; but it is also not surprising that the sovereign who had made that offer should have been irritated by its rejection, whilst many urged that the vice-grand-elector, if not employed, should be arrested. All proof, however, of treason was wanting; and the chief of the Empire justly dreaded the effect which, both at home and abroad, any violent act might produce; for it was far more difficult, than many have supposed, for him to strike, when his power was once on the decline, any strong blow against an eminent functionary. His government was a government of functionaries, throughout whom there reigned a sort of fraternity that could not safely be braved.
This stern man had, moreover, – and this was one of the most remarkable and amiable portions of his character – a sort of tenderness, which he never overcame, for those who had once been attached to his person, or had done eminent service to his authority.59 He resolved, then, not to take any violent measure against M. de Talleyrand; but though he could restrain his anger from acts, he could not from expressions.
A variety of scenes was the consequence. Savary relates one which happened in his presence and that of the arch-chancellor. I have also read of one in which Napoleon, having said that if he thought his own death likely he would take care that the vice-grand-elector should not survive him, was answered by M. de Talleyrand rejoining, quietly and respectfully, that he did not require that reason for desiring that his Majesty’s life might be long preserved. M. Molé recounted to me another, in the following terms: “At the end of the Council of State, which took place just before the Emperor started for the campaign