Chapter IX: Russia in the Napoleonic Epoch (5)

As the remains of Napoleon’s army approached the frontiers of Russia, the complicated question presented itself to the emperor Alexander as to whether the Russian forces should stop at the Vistula and complete the triumph of Russia by a glorious peace or continue the struggle with Napoleon in order to re-establish the political independence of Germany and the exaltation of Austria. The emperor inclined to the latter decision--that is, to the prolongation of the war; such an intention was in complete accordance with the conviction he had previously expressed: “Napoleon or I--I or he; but together we cannot reign.” At the end of the year 1812 the final object of the war was already marked out by the emperor Alexander. This is evident from his conversation with Mademoiselle Sturdza not long before his departure for Vilna, in which the sovereign shared with her his feelings of joy at the happy results of the war. Alexander referred in their colloquy to the extraordinary man who, blinded by fortune, had occasioned so many calamities to mankind. Speaking of the enigmatical character of Napoleon, he called to mind how he had studied him during the negotiations at Tilsit; in reference to this the emperor said: “The present time reminds me of all that I heard from that extraordinary man at Tilsit. Then we talked a long while together, for he liked to show me his superiority and lavishly displayed before me all the brilliancy of his imagination. ‘War,’ said he to me once, ‘is not at all such a difficult art as people think, and to speak frankly it is sometimes hard to explain exactly how one has succeeded in winning a battle. In reality it would seem that he is vanquished who is afraid of his adversary and that the whole secret lies in that. There is no leader who does not dread the issue of a battle; the whole thing is to hide this fear for the longest time possible. It is only thus that he can frighten his opponent, and then there is no doubt of ultimate success.’ I listened,” continued the emperor, “with the deepest attention to all that he was pleased to communicate to me on the subject, firmly resolving to profit by it when the occasion presented itself, and in fact I hope that I have since acquired some experience in order to solve the question as to what there remains for us to do.” “Surely, Sire, we are forever secure against such an invasion?” replied Mademoiselle Sturdza. “Would the enemy dare again to cross our frontiers?” “It is possible,” answered Alexander, “but if a lasting and solid peace is desired it must be signed in Paris; of that I am firmly convinced.”

Kutuzov was of an entirely opposite opinion; he considered that Napoleon was no longer dangerous to Russia, and that he must be spared on account of the English, who would endeavour to seize upon his inheritance to the detriment of Russia and other continental powers. All the thoughts of the field-marshal were directed to the salvation of the fatherland, and not that of Europe, as those English and German patriots would have desired, who were already accustomed to look upon Russia as a convenient tool for the attainment and consolidation of their political aims. Kutuzov’s opinions, as might have been expected, were strongly censured by those around Alexander and in general by persons who judged of military movements from the depths of their studies.

The frame of mind of such persons is best described in the correspondence of Baron Ampheldt, who devoted the following witty lines to this burning question: “Our affairs might even go still better if Kutuzov had not taken upon himself the form of a tortoise, and Tchitchagov that of a weather-cock, which does not follow any plan: the latter sins by a superfluity of intellect and a want of experience, the former by excessive caution. I suppose, however, that after his passage across the Niemen Bonaparte has not a very large company left; cold, hunger, and Cossack spears must have occasioned him some difficulties. Meanwhile, as long as the man lives, we shall never be in a condition to count on any rest; and therefore war to the death is necessary. Our good emperor shares these views, in spite of the opinion of those contemptible creatures who would have wished to stop at the Vistula. But this is not the desire of the people, who, however, alone bear the burden of the war and in whom are to be found more healthy good sense and feeling than in powdered heads ornamented with orders and embroideries.”

On the 28th of November the Russian forces occupied Vilna, after having taken 140 guns, more than 14,000 prisoners, and vast quantities of stores. Prince Kutuzov arrived on the 30th of November; he came to a place with which he was already well acquainted, having formerly filled the position of Lithuanian military governor. The population, forgetting Napoleon and their vanished dreams of the re-establishment of the kingdom of Poland, welcomed the triumphant leader with odes and speeches, and on the stage of the theatre Kutuzov’s image was represented with the inscription: “The saviour of the country.”

After the evacuation of Vilna the enemy fled, without stopping to Kovno; but on the 2nd of December Platov’s Cossacks made their appearance in the town, which was quickly cleared of the French. The piteous remainder of that once brilliant army crossed the Niemen; only 1,000 men with nine guns and about 20,000 unarmed men were left of it. “God punished the foolish,” wrote the emperor Nicholas twenty-seven years later in his order of the day to the troops, on the occasion of the unveiling of the Borodino monument; “the bones of the audacious foreigners were scattered from Moscow to the Niemen--and we entered Paris.”[g]

CAMPAIGNS OF THE GRAND ALLIANCE (1813-1814 A.D.)

[Sidenote: [1813 A.D.]]

Rallying with amazing promptitude from the tremendous blow he had suffered in Russia, Napoleon raised a fresh army of 300,000 men in the beginning of 1813, in order to crush the insurrection in which all northern Germany had joined, with the exception of Saxony, after Prussia had openly adhered to the Russian alliance. By the Treaty of Kalish, which established that alliance, Alexander engaged not to lay down his arms until Prussia had recovered the territory it possessed before the war of 1800. Great efforts were now made by the cabinets of St. Petersburg and Berlin to detach Austria from France; and so strongly were the national feelings declared in favour of that policy, that Metternich had the utmost difficulty in withstanding the torrent, and evading the hazard of committing his government prematurely. Temporising with consummate art, he offered the mediation of his government between the hostile parties, and at the same time prosecuted his military preparations on such a scale as would enable Austria to act no subordinate part on the one side or the other in the coming struggle. Meanwhile, hostilities began; the Russians and Prussians were defeated by Napoleon at Lützen and at Bautzen, where Alexander commanded the allied armies in person; and they were fortunate in concluding an armistice with him at Pleisswitz on the 4th of June, 1813. They availed themselves of this truce to reinforce their armies, and more than sixty thousand fresh troops reached the seat of war from the south and the middle of Russia.

On the 27th, Austria signed a treaty at Reichenbach, in Silesia, with Russia and Prussia, by which she bound herself to declare war with France, in case Napoleon had not, before the termination of the armistice, accepted the terms of peace about to be proposed to him. A pretended congress for the arrangement of the treaty was again agreed to by both sides; but Napoleon delayed to grant full powers to his envoy, and the allies, who had meanwhile heard of Wellington’s victory at Vittoria and the expulsion of the French from Spain, gladly seized this pretext to break off the negotiations. Meanwhile, Metternich, whose voice was virtually to decide Napoleon’s fate, met him at Dresden with an offer of peace, on condition of the surrender of the French conquests in Germany. Napoleon, with an infatuation only equalled by his attempts to negotiate at Moscow, spurned the proposal, and even went the length of charging Count Metternich with taking bribes from England. The conference, which was conducted on Napoleon’s part in so insulting a manner, and at times in tones of passion so violent as to be overheard by the attendants, lasted till near midnight on the 10th of August, the day with which the armistice was to expire. The fatal hour passed by, and that night Count Metternich drew up the declaration of war, on the part of his government, against France. Austria coalesced with Russia and Prussia, and the Austrian general, Prince Schwarzenberg, was appointed generalissimo of the whole of the allied armies.

The plan of the allies was to advance with the main body under Schwarzenberg, 190,000 strong, through the Hartz mountains to Napoleon’s rear. Blücher, with 95,000 men, was meanwhile to cover Silesia, or in case of an attack by Napoleon’s main body to retire before it and draw it further eastward. Bernadotte, crown prince of Sweden, was to cover Berlin with 90,000 men, and in case of a victory was to form a junction, rearward of Napoleon, with the main body of the allied army. A mixed division under Wallmoden, 30,000 strong, was destined to watch Davout in Hamburg, whilst the Bavarian and Italian frontiers were respectively guarded by 25,000 Austrians under Prince Reuss, and 40,000 Austrians under Hiller. Napoleon’s main body, consisting of 250,000 men, was concentrated in and around Dresden.

The campaign opened with the march of a French force under Oudinot against Berlin. This attack having completely failed, Napoleon marched in person against Blücher, who cautiously retired before him. Dresden being thus left uncovered, the allies changed their plan of operations, and marched straight upon the Saxon capital. But they arrived too late, Napoleon having already returned thither, after despatching Vandamme’s corps to Bohemia, to seize the passes and cut off Schwarzenberg’s retreat. The allies attempted to storm Dresden, on the 26th of August, but were repulsed after suffering a frightful loss. On the following day Napoleon assumed the offensive, cut off the left wing of the allies, and made an immense number of prisoners, chiefly Austrians. The main body fled in all directions; part of the troops disbanded, and the whole must have been annihilated but for the misfortune of Vandamme, who was taken prisoner, with his whole corps, on the 29th. It was at the battle of Dresden that Moreau, who had come from his exile in America to aid the allies against his old rival Napoleon, was killed by a cannon ball whilst he was speaking to the emperor Alexander.

At the same time (August 26th) a splendid victory was gained by Blücher, on the Katzbach, over Macdonald, who reached Dresden almost alone, to say to Napoleon, “Your army of the Bober is no longer in existence.” This disaster to the French arms was followed by the defeat of Ney at Dennewitz by the Prussians and Swedes on the 6th of September. Napoleon’s generals were thrown back in every quarter, with immense loss, on Dresden, towards which the allies now advanced again, threatening to enclose it on every side. Napoleon manœuvred until the beginning of October, with the view of executing a _coup de main_ against Schwarzenberg and Blücher, but their caution foiled him, and at length he found himself compelled to retreat, lest he should be cut off from the Rhine, for Blücher had crossed the Elbe, joined Bernadotte, and approached the head of the main army under Schwarzenberg. Moreover, the Bavarian army under Wrede declared against the French on the 8th of October, and was sent to the Main to cut off their retreat. Marching to Leipsic, the emperor there encountered the allies on the 16th of October, and fought an indecisive action, which, however, was in his case equivalent to a defeat. He strove to negotiate a separate peace with the emperor of Austria, as he had before done with regard to the emperor of Russia, but no answer was returned to his proposals. After some partial engagements on the 17th, the main battle was renewed on the 18th; it raged with prodigious violence all day, and ended in the defeat of Napoleon; Leipsic was stormed on the following day, and the French emperor narrowly escaped being taken prisoner. He had lost 60,000 men in the four days’ battle; with the remainder of his troops he made a hasty and disorderly retreat, and after losing many more in his disastrous flight, he crossed the Rhine on the 20th of October with 70,000 men. The garrisons he had left behind gradually surrendered, and by November all Germany, as far as the Rhine, was freed from the presence of the French.

In the following month the allies simultaneously invaded France in three directions: Bülow from Holland, Blücher from Coblentz, and Schwarzenberg, with the allied sovereigns, by Switzerland and the Jura; whilst Wellington also was advancing from the Pyrenees, at the head of the army which had liberated the peninsula. In twenty-five days after their passage of the Rhine the allied armies had succeeded, almost without firing a shot, in wresting a third of France from the grasp of Napoleon. Their united forces stretched diagonally across France in a line three hundred miles long, from the frontiers of Flanders to the banks of the Rhone. On the other hand, the French emperor, though his force was little more than a third of that which was at the command of the allies, had the advantage of an incomparably more concentrated position, his troops being all stationed within the limits of a narrow triangle, of which Paris, Laon, and Troyes formed the angles. Besides this, there was no perfect unanimity among his enemies. Austria, leaning on the matrimonial alliance, was reluctant to push matters to extremities, if it could possibly be avoided; Russia and Prussia were resolute to overthrow Napoleon’s dynasty; whilst the councils of England, which in this diversity held the balance, were as yet divided as to the final issue. There was a prospect, therefore, that the want of concert between the allies would afford profitable opportunities to the military genius of the French emperor.

[Sidenote: [1814 A.D.]]

On the 29th of January, 1814, Napoleon made an unexpected attack on Blücher’s corps at Brienne, in which the Prussian marshal narrowly escaped being made prisoner. But not being pursued with sufficient vigour, and having procured reinforcements, Blücher had his revenge at La Rothière, where he attacked Napoleon with superior forces and routed him. Still Schwarzenberg delayed his advance and divided his troops, whilst Blücher, pushing rapidly forward on Paris, was again unexpectedly attacked by the main body of the French army, and all his corps, as they severally advanced, were defeated with terrible loss, between the 10th and 14th of February. On the 17th, Napoleon routed the advanced guard of the main army at Nangis, and again on the 18th he inflicted a heavy defeat on them at Montereau. Augereau, meanwhile, with an army levied in the south of France, had driven the Austrians under Bubna into Switzerland, and had posted himself at Geneva, in the rear of the allies, who became so alarmed as to resolve on a general retreat, and proposed an armistice. Negotiations for peace had been in progress for several weeks at Châtillon, and the allies were now more than ever desirous that the terms they offered should be accepted. But so confident was Napoleon in the returning good fortune of his arms, that he would not even consent to a suspension of hostilities while the conferences for an armistice were going on. As for the conference at Châtillon, he used it only as a means to gain time, fully resolved not to purchase peace by the reduction of his empire within the ancient limits of the French monarchy.

Blücher became furious on being informed of the intention to retreat, and with the approval of the emperor Alexander, he resolved to separate from the main army, and push on for Paris. Being reinforced on the Marne by Winzingerode and Bülow, he encountered Napoleon at Craon on the 7th of March. The battle was one of the most obstinately contested of the whole revolutionary war; the loss on both sides was enormous, but neither could claim a victory. Two days afterwards the emperor was defeated at Laon; but Blücher’s army was reduced to inactivity by fatigue and want of food.

Napoleon now turned upon the grand army, which he encountered at Arcis-sur-Aube; but after an indecisive action, he deliberately retreated, not towards Paris but in the direction of the Rhine. His plan was to occupy the fortresses in the rear of the allies, form a junction with Augereau, who was then defending Lyons, and, with the aid of a general rising of the peasantry in Alsace and Lorraine, surround and cut off the invaders, or, at least, compel them to retreat to the Rhine. But this plan being made known to the allies by an intercepted letter from Napoleon to the empress, they frustrated it by at once marching with flying banners upon Paris, leaving behind only ten thousand men, under Winzingerode, to amuse Napoleon, and mask their movement. After repulsing Mortier and Marmont, and capturing the forces under Pacthod and Amey, the allies defiled within sight of Paris on the 29th. On the 30th they met with a spirited resistance on the heights of Belleville and Montmartre; but the city, in order to escape bombardment, capitulated during the night; and on the 31st, the sovereigns of Russia and Prussia made a peaceful entry. The emperor of Austria had remained at Lyons.[k]

ALEXANDER I AT THE CAPITULATION OF PARIS (1814 A.D.)

The success at Paris was dearly bought; on the day of the battle the allies lost 8,400 men, of whom 6,000 were Russians. The magnitude of the losses is explained by the absence of unity in the operations of the allies and the consequent want of simultaneousness in the attacks from all parts of the allied army. However, the success of the day dealt a direct and decisive blow at the very strongest part of the enemy’s position. While negotiations were being carried on with the French marshals for the surrender of Paris, the emperor Alexander made the tour of the troops, which were disposed near Belleville and Chaumont, and congratulated them on the victory; he then raised Count Barclay de Tolly to the rank of field-marshal. After that he returned to Bondy.

Meanwhile negotiations for the capitulation of Paris were being carried on in a house occupied by Marshal Marmont. There a large company had assembled anxiously awaiting the decision of the fate of Paris. At the head of those present was Talleyrand. An agreement between the French and the representatives of the allied armies was at last arrived at, and at the third hour after midnight the capitulation of Paris, composed by M. F. Orlov, was signed; the victors, however, had to give up their original stipulation that the French troops which had defended Paris should retire by the Brittany route. In the concluding 8th article of the capitulation, specially referring to the approaching occupation of Paris by the allies, it was said that the town of Paris was recommended to the generosity of the allied powers.

Orlov told Marshal Marmont that the representatives of the town of Paris could unrestrainedly express their desires in person to the emperor Alexander. A deputation from the town was therefore assembled which should proceed without delay to the headquarters of the allies; it consisted of the prefect of police Pasquier, the prefect of the Seine Chabrolles, and a few members of the municipal council and representatives of the garde nationale. At dawn the deputies set off in carriages for Bondy accompanied by Colonel Orlov, who led them through the Russian bivouacs.

On their arrival at headquarters the French were taken into a large room in the castle. Orlov ordered that his arrival should be announced to Count Nesselrode, who went to meet the deputies whilst Orlov went straight to the emperor, who received him lying in bed. “What news do you bring?” asked the emperor. “Your majesty, here is the capitulation of Paris,” answered Orlov. Alexander took the capitulation, read it, folded the paper, and putting it under his pillow, said, “I congratulate you; your name is linked with a great event.”

At the time when the above described events were taking place before Paris, Napoleon had made the following arrangements. When Winzingerode’s division reached Saint-Dizier Napoleon moved from Doulevant to Bar-sur-Aube. In order to ascertain the real intentions of the allies he ordered increased reconnoitering, which led to the combat at Saint-Dizier, and Winzingerode was thrown back on Bar-le-Duc. From the questions addressed to prisoners Napoleon was convinced that only the cavalry division was left against him and that the chief forces of the allies were directed towards Paris. “This is a fine chess move! I should never have thought that a general of the coalition would have been capable of it!” exclaimed Napoleon. Without delaying, on the 27th of March, Napoleon directed the forces he had at his disposal towards Paris by a circuitous route through Troyes and Fontainebleau. On the 30th of March, at daybreak, when the allies were already before Paris and were preparing to attack the capital, Napoleon and his vanguard had hardly reached Troyes (150 versts from Paris). In the hope that at least by his presence he might amend matters in Paris, the emperor left the troops behind and galloped off to Fontainebleau; arriving there at night, he continued his journey without stopping to Paris. But it was already late, and on the night of the 31st of March, at twenty versts from Paris, Napoleon met the fore ranks of the already departing French troops, from whom he learned of the capitulation concluded by Marmont. At six in the morning Napoleon returned to Fontainebleau.

It was about the same time, on the morning of the 31st of March, that the deputation from Paris was received by the emperor Alexander at Bondy. Count Nesselrode presented the members by name to the emperor; after which Alexander addressed to them a discourse which Pasquier has reproduced in his Mémoires in the following manner: “I have but one enemy in France, and that enemy is the man who has deceived me in the most shameless manner, who has abused my trust, who has broken every vow to me, and who has carried into my dominions the most iniquitous and odious of wars. All reconciliation between him and me is henceforth impossible, but I repeat I have no other enemy in France. All other Frenchmen are favourably regarded by me. I esteem France and the French, and I trust that they will enable me to help them. I honour the courage and glory of all the brave men against who I have been fighting for two years and whom I have learned to respect in every position in which they have found themselves. I shall always be ready to render to them the justice and the honour which are their due. Say then, gentlemen, to the Parisians, that I do not enter their walls as an enemy, and that it only depends on them to have me for a friend, but say also that I have one sole enemy in France, and that with him I am irreconcilable.” Pasquier adds that this thought was repeated in twenty different tones and always with the expression of the utmost vehemence, the emperor meanwhile pacing up and down the room.

THE RUSSIAN OCCUPATION OF PARIS

Then entering into details as to the occupation of Paris, the emperor Alexander consented to leave the preservation of tranquillity in the capital to the national guard, and gave his word that he would require nothing from the inhabitants, beyond provisions for the army; it was decided that the troops should be bivouacked. Having dismissed the deputation, the emperor Alexander ordered Count Nesselrode to set off immediately for Paris to Talleyrand and concert with him as to the measures to be taken in the commencement; the count entered the town accompanied by a single Cossack.

“The boulevards were covered with well-dressed crowds of people,” writes Count Nesselrode in his Mémoires. “It seemed as if the people had assembled for a holiday rather than to assist at the entry of the enemy’s troops. Talleyrand was at his toilet; his hair only half-done; he rushed to meet me, threw himself into my arms and bestrewed me with powder. When he was somewhat tranquillised he ordered certain persons with whom he was conspiring to be called. They were the duke of Dalberg, the abbe de Pradt, and Baron Louis. I transmitted the desires of the emperor Alexander to my companions, telling them that he remained firmly determined upon one point--not to leave Napoleon on the throne of France; that later on the question as to what order of things must from henceforth reign would be decided by his majesty, not otherwise than after consultation with the prominent personages with whom he would be brought into relations.”[57]

The emperor Alexander had intended to stop at the Élysée palace (Élysée Bourbon), but, having received information that mines had been laid under the palace, he sent the communication on to Count Nesselrode; when Talleyrand heard of it he would not believe the truth of the information, but, from excess of caution, he proposed that the emperor should stay with him until the necessary investigations should be made. In all probability the alarm raised had been prepared by the dexterity of Prince Bénévent himself, who thus made sure of the presence of the head of the coalition in his house.

After Count Nesselrode’s departure for Paris, Colencourt made his appearance at Bondy, being sent to the emperor Alexander by Napoleon with proposals for the conclusion of immediate peace on conditions similar to those exacted by the allied powers at Châtillon. The emperor told the duke of Vicenza that he considered himself bound to secure the tranquillity of Europe, and that therefore neither he nor his allies intended to carry on negotiations with Napoleon. It was in vain that Colencourt endeavoured to shake Alexander’s decision, representing to him that the allied monarchs, by deposing from the throne a sovereign whom they had all acknowledged, would show themselves upholders of the destructive ideas of the revolution. “The allied monarchs do not desire the overthrow of thrones,” replied Alexander, “they will support not any particular party of those dissatisfied with the present government but the general voice of the most estimable men of France. We have decided to continue the struggle to the end, in order that it may not have to be renewed under less favourable circumstances, and we shall combat until we attain a solid and durable peace, which it is impossible to look for from the man who has devastated Europe from Moscow to Cadiz.” In conclusion Alexander promised to receive Colencourt at any time in Paris.

“The subjection of Paris has shown itself to be an indispensable inheritance for our chroniclers. Russians could not open the glorious book of their history without shame if after the page on which Napoleon is represented standing amidst Moscow in flames did not follow that where Alexander appears in the midst of Paris.”

As he left Bondy, Napoleon’s envoy saw the horse prepared for Alexander to ride on his approaching entry into Paris; it was a light-grey horse called Eclipse which had formerly been presented to the emperor when Colencourt was ambassador in St. Petersburg. About eight o’clock in the morning Alexander left Bondy. “All were prepared to meet a day unexampled in history,” writes an eye-witness.

After he had ridden about a verst, the emperor met the king of Prussia and the guards; letting the Russian guard and his own guard’s light cavalry pass in front, as they were to head the troops entering Paris, Alexander followed after them with the king of Prussia and Prince Schwarzenberg, accompanied by a suite of more than a thousand generals and officers of various nationalities. After them came the Austrian grenadiers, the Russian grenadier corps, the foot-guards, and three divisions of cuirassiers with artillery. The most superb weather favoured the triumph of this memorable day.

What were the feelings which then filled the soul of Alexander? Of what was the sovereign thinking that had lived through the painful experiences of Austerlitz, the glitter of Tilsit, changing to the defeat of Friedland and the burning of Moscow? In entire humility he was prepared to repay the evil and mortification he had endured by a magnanimity unheard of in history. Actually there appeared in the midst of Paris a victor who sought for no other triumph but the happiness of the vanquished. Even at Vilna, in December, 1812, the emperor Alexander had said: “Napoleon might have given peace to Europe. He might have--but he did not! Now the enchantment has vanished. Let us see which is best: to make oneself feared or beloved.” In Paris a noble field awaited the emperor for changing into action these generous thoughts and aspirations after the ideal.

The streets were crowded with people, and even the roofs of the houses were covered with curious spectators. White draperies hung from the windows and the women at the windows and on the balconies waved white handkerchiefs. Henri Houssaye has very justly defined the frame of mind of the Parisian population on the day of the 31st of March: “They did not reason, they breathed.” Answering graciously to the greetings of the populace, the emperor said in a loud voice: “I do not come as an enemy. I come to bring you peace and commerce.” The emperor’s words called forth acclamations and exclamations of “_Vive la paix!_” A Frenchman who had managed to push his way right up to the emperor said: “We have been waiting for you a long time.” “It is the fault of the bravery of your troops if I have not come sooner,” answered Alexander. “How handsome the emperor Alexander is, how graciously he bows. He must stay in Paris or give us a sovereign like himself,” said the French to each other.

The allied troops were met with joyful exclamations of “Long live Alexander! Long live the Russians! Long live the allies!” As the allies approached the Champs-Élysées, the enthusiasm grew and began to assume the character of a demonstration against the government of Napoleon; white cockades made their appearance on hats and the exclamations resounded: “Long live the Bourbons! Down with the tyrant!” All these manifestations did not, however, arouse the least sympathy among the people for the Bourbons, who were unknown to it; the movement was purely superficial and partly artificial. The French, seeing the white bands on the Russian uniforms, imagined that Europe had taken up arms for the Bourbons, and in their turn showed the colour for which in their hearts they had no sympathy.

ALEXANDER I AND THE CONGRESS OF VIENNA (1815 A.D.)

[Sidenote: [1815 A.D.]]

The restoration of the French Empire hastened the settlement of the disputed points at the congress of Vienna. On the 3rd of May, 1815, treaties were signed between Russia, Austria, and Prussia which determined the fate of the duchy of Warsaw; it was forever united to the Russian Empire, with the exception of Posen, Bromberg, and Thorn, which were given to Prussia; Cracow was declared a free town, and the salt mines of Weliczka were returned to Austria, together with the province of Tarnopol, which had belonged to Russia since 1809. Alexander took the title King of Poland and reserved to himself the right of giving to this kingdom, which was destined to have a social government, that “interior extension” which he judged right. In general it was proposed to give to the Russian as well as the Austrian and Prussian subjects the right of national representation and national government institutions in conformity with the form of political states which each government would consider most advantageous and most fitted to the sphere of its possessions. On the same day a treaty was concluded between the plenipotentiaries of Prussia and Saxony, according to the conditions of which the king of Saxony ceded to Prussia almost all Lusatia and a part of Saxony. Finally, more than a month later, on the 8th of June, 1815, the act of the German alliance was signed, and on the following day, the 9th of June, the chief act of the congress of Vienna.

Upon the basis of the conditions of the treaty of 1815, Russia increased her territory to the extent of about 2,100 square miles with a population of more than three millions; Austria acquired 2,300 square miles with the million inhabitants, and Prussia 2,217 square miles with 5,362,000 inhabitants. Thus Russia, who had borne all the three years’ war with Napoleon, and made the greatest sacrifices for the triumph of the interests of Europe, received the smallest reward.

A few days before the signing of the treaties that determined the fate of the duchy of Warsaw, which had so long remained in an indefinite position, the emperor Alexander informed the president of the Polish senate, Count Ostrovski, of the approaching union of the kingdom of Poland to the Russian empire. In this letter, amongst other things, it was said: “If in the great interest of general tranquillity it could not be permitted that all the Poles should become united under one sceptre, I have at least endeavoured as far as possible to soften the hardships of their separation and to obtain for them everywhere all possible enjoyment of their nationality.” Following upon this came the manifesto to the inhabitants of the kingdom of Poland granting them a constitution, self-government, an army of their own, and freedom of the press.

On the 21st of May, 1815, the solemnity of the restoration of the kingdom of Poland was celebrated in Warsaw. In his letter to the emperor Alexander, Prince Adam Czartoriski expressed the conviction that the remembrance of that day would be for the generous heart of the sovereign a reward for his labours for the good of humanity. All the functionaries of the state assembled in the Catholic cathedral church, where, after divine service had been celebrated, were read the act of renunciation of the king of Saxony, the manifesto of the emperor of all the Russias, king of Poland, and the basis of the future constitution. The council of the empire, the senate, the officials, and the inhabitants then took the oath of allegiance to the sovereign and the constitution. Then the Polish standard with the white eagle was raised over the royal castle and on all government buildings, whilst in all the churches thanksgiving services were celebrated, accompanied by the pealing of bells and firing of cannon. After this all the state dignitaries set off to wait on the czarevitch, Constantine Pavlovitch. The troops were assembled in the plain near Wola, where an altar had been erected; there, in the presence of the august commander-in-chief of the Polish army, the soldiers took the oath in battalions. The cannonades and salvoes of artillery which concluded the solemnity were interrupted by the loud exclamations of the people: “Long live our king Alexander!”

Prince Adam Czartoriski, who had been sent by the emperor from Vienna, occupied a place in the council. On the 25th of May Alexander wrote to him as follows: “You have had occasion to become acquainted with my intentions as to the institutions that I wish to establish in Poland, and the improvements that I desire to carry on in that country. You will endeavour never to lose sight of them during the deliberations of the council and to direct the attention of your colleagues to them in order that the course of government and the reforms, which are confided to them to bring into execution, may be in accordance with my views.” A committee was formed for the framing of a constitution, composed of Polish dignitaries under the presidency of Count Ostrovski.

But this benign condition of affairs in the newly created kingdom was not of long duration, and on the 29th of July, 1815, Prince Czartoriski had to complain to the emperor of the czarevitch, and expressed his conviction that no enemy could occasion greater injuries to Alexander. It was, he said, as though he wished to bring matters to a rupture. “No zeal, no submission can soften him,” wrote Prince Adam to the emperor. “Neither the army, nor the nation, nor private individuals can find favour in his sight. The constitution in particular gives him occasion for ceaseless, bitter derision; everything of rule, form, or law is made the object of mockery and laughter, and unfortunately deeds have already followed upon words. The grand duke does not even observe the military laws which he himself has established. He absolutely wishes to bring in corporal punishments and gave orders yesterday that they should be brought into force, in spite of the unanimous representations of the committee. Desertion, which is already now considerable, will become general; in September most of the officers will ask for their discharge. In fact, it is as if a plan were laid to oppose the views of your majesty, in order to render the benefits you have conferred void, in order to frustrate from the very beginning the success of your enterprise. His imperial highness in such a case would be, without himself knowing it, the blind instrument of this destructive design, of which the first effect would be to exasperate equally both Russians and Poles and to take away all power from your majesty’s most solemn declarations. What would I not give for it to be possible to here satisfy the grand duke and fulfil the desires of your majesty in this respect! But this is decidedly impossible, and if he remains here I on the contrary foresee the most lamentable consequences!”

Indeed, as we look more closely into the state of affairs in Warsaw in the year 1815, it remains an unsolved enigma how the emperor Alexander, knowing as he did the indomitable character of his brother, could resolve to confide the destiny of the kingdom he had newly created to the wilful, arbitrary hands of the czarevitch, whose personality as the probable heir to the throne of Russia had disturbed the Poles since the time of the termination of the war of 1812. Prince Czartoriski’s letter did not alter Alexander’s determination: the czarevitch remained in Warsaw, and continued his impolitic course of action, the lamentable results of which were revealed by subsequent events.

On the 21st of May in Vienna the emperor signed the manifesto calling upon all the powers who observed the laws of truth and piety to take up arms against the usurper of the French throne. In the same manifesto the annexation to Russia of the greater part of the former duchy of Warsaw was announced: “Security is thus given to our frontiers, a firm defence is raised, calumnies and inimical attempts are repulsed, and the ties of brotherhood renewed between races mutually united by a common origin. We have therefore considered it advantageous to assure the destiny of this country by basing its interior administration upon special regulations, peculiar to the speech and customs of the inhabitants and adapted to their local position. Following the teaching of the Christian law, whose dominion embraces so vast a number of people of various races, but at the same time preserves their distinctive qualities and customs unchanged, we have desired in creating the happiness of our new subjects, to plant in their hearts the feeling of devotion to our throne and thus for ever efface the traces of former misfortunes arising from pernicious discord and protracted struggles.” Without waiting for the termination of the congress the emperor Alexander left Vienna on the 25th of May; he desired to be nearer the Rhine until the arrival of the Russian troops and in closer proximity to the seat of the approaching military action.[g] The Russians, however, who were to have formed the army of the middle Rhine, were unable, though making forced marches, to arrive in time to take part in the brief campaign which terminated Napoleon’s reign of the hundred days.[k]

ALEXANDER’S RELIGIOUS MYSTICISM; BARONESS KRÜDENER

When he had left Vienna, the emperor Alexander stopped for a short time at Munich and Stuttgart, and on the 4th of June he arrived at Heilbronn, which had been chosen for the Russian headquarters. Here took place his first meeting with Baroness Juliane Krüdener.

Baroness Krüdener (born Vietinghov), the author of the famous novel _Valérie_, had already long since been converted from a vain woman of the world, and had entered upon the path of mystical pietism. Her acquaintance with the Moravian brethren and in particular with Johann Jung had definitely confirmed her ideas in a pious philanthropic direction. With the exaltation that was natural to her she became more and more persuaded that a great work lay before her, that God himself had entrusted her with a lofty mission, to turn the unbelieving to the path of truth. As her biographer observes, she was ready to affirm in imitation of Louis XIV that “_Le ciel c’est moi_” (Heaven is I). In 1814 Baroness Krüdener became intimate with the maid of honour Mlle. R. S. Sturdza, and through her penetrated to the empress Elizabeth Alexievna.

But, according to her own words, an inward voice told her that the matter was not to end there; the final aim of her aspiration was a friendship with the emperor Alexander, whose spiritual condition at that time was fully known to her from her conversations with Mademoiselle Sturdza as well as after the emperor’s interviews with Johann Jung which took place during his majesty’s stay at Bronchsaal. During the congress of Vienna Juliane Krüdener kept up an active correspondence with Mademoiselle Sturdza; in it she referred to the emperor Alexander and the great and beautiful qualities of his soul. “I have already known for some time that the Lord will grant me the joy of seeing him,” wrote Baroness Krüdener; “if I live till then, it will be one of the happiest moments of my life. I have a multitude of things to tell him, for I have investigated much on his behalf: the Lord alone can prepare his heart to receive them; I am not uneasy about it; my business is to be without fear and reproach; his, to bow down before Christ, the truth.” With these spiritual effusions were artfully mixed mysterious prophecies, such as: “The storm draws nigh, the lilies have appeared only to vanish.”

Mademoiselle Sturdza was struck by these mysterious prognostications and showed the letter to the emperor Alexander; he commissioned her to write to Baroness Krüdener that he would esteem it a happiness to meet her. The correspondence was further prolonged in the same spirit and finally the “prince of darkness” appeared on the scene, preventing her conversing with Alexander, that instrument of mercy, of heavenly things. “But the Almighty will be stronger than he,” wrote Baroness Krüdener; “God, who loves to make use of those who in the eyes of the world serve as objects of humiliation and mockery, has prepared my heart for that submission which does not seek the approval of men. I am only a nonentity. He is everything, and earthly kings tremble before Him.” The emperor Alexander’s first religious transport, in the mystical sense, had manifested itself in the year 1812, when heavy trials fell upon Russia and filled his soul with alarm. His religious aspirations could not be satisfied with the usual forms and ceremonies of the church; in the matter of religion he sought for something different. Having separated himself, under the influence of fatal events, from those humanitarian ideals which to a certain degree had animated him in his youth he had adopted religious conventions; but here, also, by the nature of his character, he was governed by aspirations after the ideal, without, however, departing from the sentimental romanticism that was peculiar to him. Under such conditions Alexander must necessarily have been impressionable to the influence of pietists and mystics.

When he came to Heilbronn he was overwhelmed with weariness and sadness after the pompous receptions at the courts of Munich and Würtemberg, and his soul thirsted for solitude. During the first interview Baroness Krüdener lifted the veil of the past before the eyes of Alexander and represented to him his life with all its errors of ambition and vain pride; she proved to her listener that the momentary awakening of conscience, the acknowledgment of weaknesses, and temporary repentance do not constitute a full expiation of sins, and do not yet lead to spiritual regeneration. “No, your majesty,” said she to him, “you have not yet drawn near to the god man, as a criminal begging for mercy. You have not yet received forgiveness from him, who alone has the power to absolve sins upon earth. You are still in your sins. You have not yet humbled yourself before Jesus, you have not yet said, like the publican, from the depths of your heart: ‘God, I am a great sinner; have mercy upon me!’ And that is why you do not find spiritual peace. Listen to the words of a woman, who has also been a great sinner, but who has found pardon of all her sins at the foot of the cross of Christ.” Baroness Krüdener talked to Alexander in this strain for nearly three hours. Alexander could only say a few broken words, and bowing his head on his hands, he shed abundant tears. All the words he heard, were, as the Scripture expresses it, like a two-edged sword, piercing to the very depths of the soul and spirit, and trying the feelings and thoughts of his heart. Finally, Baroness Krüdener, alarmed by the agitated state into which her words had thrown Alexander, said to him: “Sire, I beg you to pardon the tone in which I have spoken. Believe that in all sincerity of heart and before God I have said to you truths which have never before been said to you. I have only fulfilled a sacred duty to you.” “Do not be afraid,” answered Alexander, “all your words have found a place in my heart: you have helped me to discover in myself what I had never before observed; I thank God for it, but I must often have such conversations, and I ask you not to go away.”

From that day such conversations became a spiritual necessity to the emperor Alexander and a moral support in the pathway upon which he from thenceforth stood. According to the opinion of Prince Galitzin, Alexander’s conversations with Baroness Krüdener were of a spiritual tendency, and perhaps only in part touched upon contemporary events. “There is no doubt,” says Prince Galitzin, “that Baroness Krüdener, who lived by faith, strengthened the development of faith in the emperor by her disinterested and experienced counsels; she certainly directed the will of Alexander to still greater self-sacrifice and prayer, and perhaps at the same time revealed to him the secret of that spiritual, prayerful communion which, although designed by God as an inheritance for all mortals, is unfortunately the portion of a very few chosen ones.” From that time it only remained for Prince Galitzin to experience a lively feeling of satisfaction as he observed, “with what giant strides the emperor advanced in the pathway of religion.”

If the moral sphere in which Alexander began to move awakened the entire sympathy of Prince Galitzin, others looked upon the matter from another point of view.

In accordance with the course he had adopted during the campaigns of 1813 and 1814, the emperor desired to remain at the centre of military operations. This intention was not to the taste of the Austrians, and from their headquarters at Heidelberg they sent a notification that it was difficult to find suitable premises in such a small place and that his majesty would be far more tranquil if he prolonged his stay at Heilbronn. The emperor ordered an answer to be sent to the effect that he requested that only one or two houses should be allotted for his occupation in Heidelberg, and that his headquarters should be established in the neighbouring villages. After this, on the 6th of June, Alexander removed to Heidelberg and finally took up his abode outside the town, upon the banks of the Necker, in the house of an Englishman, named Pickford, and here remained until the 10th of June, awaiting the approach of his army to the Rhine. The Baroness Krüdener also did not delay removing to Heidelberg; she settled not far from the house occupied by the emperor. He spent most of his evenings with her and, listening to her instructions, in confidential intercourse he told her of the griefs and passions which had darkened his sorrowful life. In these conversations, the fellow traveller and collaborator of Baroness Krüdener, Empaitaz, also took part. Baroness Krüdener did not flatter Alexander, she possessed the gift of speaking the truth without giving offence. According to the opinion of her admirers she might have become a beneficent genius for Russia, but this was hindered by the hypocrisy of various unworthy persons, who took advantage of this new frame of mind of the emperor, using it as a means for the attainment of aims which were not at all in accordance with Alexander’s lofty sentiments and intentions.

Becoming more and more convinced of the power of repentance and prayer, the emperor once said to Empaitaz: “I can assure you that when I find myself in awkward situations I always come out of them through prayer. I will tell you something which would greatly astonish everyone if it were known: when I am in counsel, with ministers, who are far from sharing my principles, and they show themselves of opposite opinions, instead of disputing, I lift up an inward prayer, and little by little they come round to principles of humanity and justice.”

Alexander had adopted the habit of daily reading the Holy Scriptures and began to seek in them immediate answers to his doubts. “On the 7th of June,” relates Empaitaz, “he read the 35th psalm; in the evening he told us that this psalm had dispersed all remaining anxiety in his soul as to the success of the war; thenceforth he was convinced that he was acting in accordance with the will of God.”

ALEXANDER’S HOLY ALLIANCE (1815 A.D.)

The conclusion of the Holy Alliance belongs to this period (1815). In conceiving the idea of it, the emperor Alexander intended, independently of ordinary political negotiations, to strengthen the common bond between monarchies by an act based on the immutable truths of the divine teaching, to create an alliance which should bind together monarchies and nations by ties of brotherhood, consecrated by religion, and should be for them, like the Gospel, obligatory by conscience, feeling and duty. The emperor Alexander said one day to Baroness Krüdener: “I am leaving France, but before my departure I want by a public act to give due praise to God the Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost, for the protection he has shown us, and to call upon the nations to stand in obedience to the Gospel. I have brought you the project of this act and ask you to look over it attentively, and if you do not approve any of the expressions used to indicate them to me. I desire that the emperor of Austria and the king of Prussia should unite with me in this act of adoration, in order that people may see that we, like the eastern magi, confess the supreme power of God the Saviour. You will unite with me in prayer to God that my allies may be disposed to sign it.”

Alexander wrote out the draft of the Act of the Holy Alliance with his own hand, and Mademoiselle Sturdza and Count Vapadistria took part in the wording of it. The latter ventured to observe that no such act was to be met with in the annals of diplomacy and that his majesty might express the ruling idea of the act in a declaration or manifesto. Alexander replied that his decision was unchangeable, that he took it upon himself to obtain the signature to it of his allies, the emperor of Austria and the king of Prussia. As to France, England, and other courts--“that,” said the emperor to him, “will already be your concern.”