napoleon and wellington in war and peace
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Bicentenary Colloque
21 October 2014
Napoleon and Wellington in War and Peace
Napoléon et Wellington en Temps de
Guerre et de Paix
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A warm welcome to the Hotel de Charost, and many thanks for
agreeing to participate in our Colloque on ‘Napoleon and Wellington
in War and Peace.’
I came up with the idea of a colloque not just to celebrate the far-sighted decision
of the British government to purchase this wonderful house from Pauline Borghese
in 1814, but also to leave something more durable to mark this anniversary year. It
is also in the spirit of what this house has done so well for 200 years: bringing
British and French people together in a spirit of enquiry and debate.
Hence the idea of a colloque focussing on the European situation in 1814, that year
of hope as 300 delegations descended on Vienna for the Congress, and before the
100 Days and all that followed.
In the house bought for Wellington from Napoleon’s sister, it is natural that those
two extraordinary figures will cast their long shadows over the discussion, and I am
delighted that we have renowned historians of each to contribute to our debate. I
hope we will also get a sense of the wider issues as Europe grappled with the
problems of emerging from revolution and prolonged war.
Three doctoral students will be keeping a summary of main points and themes, and
we plan to publish this together with any prepared contributions from our
participants and audio recordings of proceedings, at least as an online dossier.
I hope that you will enjoy the day, and also be able to stay at the end for a guided
tour by Tim Knox, who has made a particular study of this house and the many
wonderful objects it contains.
I must acknowledge a real debt to the Fondation Napoléon in Paris and its Director
Thierry Lentz, and to the excellent FCO Historians, particularly Patrick Salmon and
Isabelle Tombs for their help in arranging the Colloque.
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C’est un grand plaisir de vous accueillir à l’Hôtel de Charost, et
nous vous sommes très reconnaissants d’avoir bien voulu
participer à notre Colloque sur ‘Napoléon et Wellington ‒ de la
guerre à la paix.’ C’est avec un intérêt tout particulier que j’attends
vos contributions aux débats.
L’idée de ce colloque m’est venue non seulement pour célébrer la décision, avec le
recul si bien inspirée, du Gouvernement britannique lorsqu’il a acheté ce
merveilleux immeuble à Pauline Borghèse en 1814, mais aussi pour marquer de
manière durable ce deux-centième anniversaire. Le colloque s’inscrit aussi dans la
lignée de ce que cette maison a si bien su faire pendant ces deux cents ans: réunir
des Britanniques et des Français dans un esprit de recherche scientifique et de
débat.
D’où l’idée d’un colloque qui se consacre à la situation de l’Europe en 1814 ‒ une
année d’espoir où 300 délégations ont convergé sur Vienne pour y tenir Congrès,
précédant les Cent-Jours et tout ce qui a suivi.
Dans la demeure achetée pour Wellington à la sœur de Napoléon, il est bien naturel
que l’ombre de ces deux personnages extraordinaires plane sur les débats, et je
suis très heureux que ceux-ci puissent rassembler des spécialistes réputés de l’un
et de l’autre. J’espère que seront aussi évoquées les questions plus larges qui se
posaient alors, dans une Europe aux prises avec les suites des révolutions et des
guerres prolongées.
Trois doctorants vont répertorier les points et les thèmes les plus pertinents des
débats, et nous nous proposons de publier leur travail, accompagné des textes des
interventions des participants et des enregistrements des débats, ne serait-ce que
sous forme de dossier en ligne.
J’espère que vous allez passer une bonne journée et que vous pourrez aussi, à la
fin des travaux, visiter les lieux sous la conduite de Tim Knox, qui s’est tout
particulièrement penché sur son histoire et sur les nombreux très beaux objets qui
s’y trouvent.
Je tiens à exprimer ma vive reconnaissance à la Fondation Napoléon, à Paris, et à
son Directeur Thierry Lentz, ainsi qu’aux excellents historiens du Foreign Office, et
notamment Patrick Salmon et Isabelle Tombs, qui nous ont aidés à organiser ce
Colloque.
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Programme
9.00 Arrival
9.30 Welcoming Remarks
The Rt Hon William Hague, MP
09.45 Panel I: The Approach of Peace
Chair (10-15 minutes)
Jean Tulard, Member of the Institute
Speakers (20 minutes each)
John Bew: France, Britain and Europe at the End of the ‘Great War’, c. 1814
Thierry Lentz: Restraint: the Franco-British Dialogue at the Congress of Vienna
11.00 Tea/Coffee
11.35 Q&A and Discussion
12.15 Lunch
13.45 Panel II: The Duel for Europe
Chair (5 minutes)
The Marquess of Douro
Speakers (20 minutes each)
Andrew Roberts: Wellington and Napoleon
Peter Hicks: Napoleon and the British
14.30 Q&A and Discussion
15.10 Tea/Coffee
15.50 Panel III: A New Relationship after Waterloo
Chair (5 minutes)
Jacques-Olivier Boudon
Speakers (20 minutes each)
Philip Mansel: Wellington and Louis XVIII
Emmanuel de Waresquiel: Napoleon and Europe, 1815: a Strategy of Despair
16.35 Q&A and Plenary Discussion
17.10 Closing Remarks
Alan Forrest: Reflections on the Day (15 minutes)
Sir Peter Ricketts: Farewell Remarks (5 minutes)
17.30 Vin d’Honneur and Opportunity to View the Residence
19.00 End of Proceedings
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Programme
9.00 Accueil
9.30 Allocution de Bienvenue
The Rt. Hon William Hague MP
09.45 Séance I: Vers la Paix
Présidence (10-15 minutes)
Jean Tulard, Membre de l’Institut
Intervenants (20 minutes chacun)
John Bew: La France, la Grande-Bretagne et l’Europe à la Fin des Guerres
Napoléoniennes, c. 1814
Thierry Lentz: Équilibre et Modération: le Dialogue Franco-Britannique au
Congrès de Vienne
11.00 Pause
11.35 Débat avec la Salle
12.15 Pause Déjeuner
13.45 Séance II: Le Duel pour l’Europe
Présidence (5 minutes)
Le Marquis du Douro
Intervenants (20 minutes chacun)
Andrew Roberts: Wellington et Napoléon
Peter Hicks: Napoléon et les Britanniques
14.30 Débat avec la Salle
15.10 Pause
15.50 Séance III: De Nouvelles Relations après Waterloo
Présidence (5 minutes)
Jacques-Olivier Boudon
Intervenants (20 minutes chacun)
Philip Mansel: Wellington et Louis XVIII
Emmanuel de Waresquiel: une Ouverture de Napoléon vers l'Europe : une
stratégie du Désespoir
16.35 Débat avec la Salle
17.10 Conclusions
Alan Forrest: Réflexions (15 minutes)
Sir Peter Ricketts: Allocution de Clôture du Colloque (5 minutes)
17.30 Vin d’Honneur et Possibilité de Visiter la Résidence
19.00 Clôture de la Journée
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Speakers’ Biographies
Jean Tulard
Jean Tulard, né le 22 décembre 1933 à Paris, est un universitaire et historien
français. Il est l'un des spécialistes français de Napoléon Ier et de l'époque
napoléonienne (Consulat et Premier Empire) ainsi que de l'histoire du cinéma. Jean
Tulard a contribué à plus d'une cinquantaine d'ouvrages, comme auteur unique,
en collaboration ou en tant que directeur de la publication.
Reçu premier à l'agrégation d'histoire, puis pensionnaire de la Fondation Thiers
(1961-1964) avant de devenir attaché de recherche au Centre national de la
recherche scientifique (CNRS) (1964), Jean Tulard est directeur d'études à l'École
pratique des hautes études (depuis 1965) et professeur à l'université de Paris-
Sorbonne et à l'Institut d'études politiques de Paris (depuis 1981).
Jean Tulard a fait une contribution notable au monde cinématographique,
participant en tant que « consultant historique », au téléfilm Valmy, réalisé par
Jean Chérasse et Abel Gance, diffusé en 1967 et en 1989, il est le « conseiller
historique » du film La Révolution française. Jean Tulard est membre du Comité de
parrainage de Institut régional du cinéma et de l'audiovisuel de Corse et membre
du Conseil d'administration de la Cinémathèque française.
John Bew
John Bew is Reader in History and Foreign Policy at the War Studies Department,
King's College London. He is the 2013-14 Henry A. Kissinger Chair at the Library of
Congress. His last book, Castlereagh: Enlightenment, War and Tyranny, was a book
of the year in The Wall Street Journal, Spectator, Total Politics and Sunday
Telegraph.
Thierry Lentz
Né à Metz en 1959, Thierry Lentz a enseigné le droit constitutionnel à la Faculté de
Droit de Metz, à l’Institut d’Etudes Administratives et Politiques de l’Université de
Nancy II et au Celsa (Paris IV Sorbonne) avant de rejoindre le secteur privé où il a
passé douze ans dans les fonctions de directeur des Relations extérieures d’un
groupe international, tout en poursuivant ses recherches sur l’histoire du Consulat
et de l’Empire. Depuis juin 2000, il est directeur de la Fondation Napoléon. Il
enseigne par ailleurs à l’Institut catholique d’Etudes supérieures (La Roche-sur-
Yon).
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Il est administrateur de l’Institut Napoléon depuis 1993, lauréat de l’Académie des
Sciences Morales et Politiques (prix Paul-Michel Perret, 1993) et de l’Académie
française (prix Guizot, 2013).
Il a obtenu le Grand Prix de la Fondation Napoléon en 1997 et le prix de la
Fondation Pierre Lafue en 2013. Il est membre de l’Académie Nationale de Metz.
Il a publié une trentaine d’ouvrages sur l’épisode napoléonien (et d’autres sujets)
incluant :
La Moselle et Napoléon. Histoire d’un département sous le Consulat et
l’Empire, Serpenoise, 1986.
L’Affaire Kennedy, P.U.F., 1993.
Napoléon III, P.U.F., 1995.
Dictionnaire du Second Empire, Fayard, 1995 (collaboration).
Le congrès de Vienne. Une refondation de l’Europe (1814-1815), Perrin, 2013.
Napoléon en cent questions, La Boétie, 2013.
Les vingt jours de Fontainebleau. La première abdication de Napoléon, Perrin,
2014.
The Marquess of Douro
Lord Douro is the eldest son of the present Duke of Wellington. He is Chairman in
the UK of the Richemont Group, a luxury goods company. He is also on the board
of a number of international companies. He was a Commissioner of English
Heritage from 2003-2007. He was a member of the European Parliament from
1979-1989. He has been Chairman of King’s College London since October 2007.
Andrew Roberts
Dr Andrew Roberts, 46, took a first in modern history from Gonville and Caius
College, Cambridge, from where he is an honorary senior scholar and PhD. His
biography of Winston Churchill’s foreign secretary Lord Halifax, entitled The Holy
Fox, was published in 1991, to be followed by Eminent Churchillians, Salisbury:
Victorian Titan (which won the Wolfson Prize and the James Stern Silver Pen
Award), Napoleon and Wellington, Hitler and Churchill: Secrets of Leadership, and
Waterloo: Napoleon’s Last Gamble. He appears regularly on TV and radio.
Of his most recent books, A History of the English-Speaking Peoples Since 1900 won
the US Intercollegiate Studies Institute Book Award for 2007, Masters and
Commanders: How Roosevelt, Churchill, Marshall and Alanbrooke Won the War in
the West 1941-45 was awarded the International Churchill Society Book Award for
2009, and The Storm of War: A New History of the Second World War won the
British Army Military Book of the Year Award in 2010. His latest book, Napoleon
the Great, is published by Penguin, accompanied by a three-part BBC TV series. He
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is a Fellow of the Royal Society of Literature, a Trustee of the Margaret Thatcher
Archive Trust, and the chairman of judges of the Guggenheim-Lehrman Military
History Book Prize. He lives in New York with his wife Susan Gilchrist, the global
CEO of Brunswick Group. His website is www.andrew-roberts.net
Peter Hicks
Peter Hicks est historien de la période napoléonienne et responsable des Affaires
Internationales de la Fondation Napoléon, Paris. Il est également Visiting Professor
à l’université de Bath et Honorary Fellow à l’Institut Napoléon et la Révolution
française, auprès de l’Université de l’état de Floride. Ses livres les plus récents sont
- Lieutenant Woodberry : Journal de guerre, 1813-1815 (Mercure de France, 2013) et
The Napoleonic Empire and the New European Political Culture, en collaboration
avec Michael Broers et Agustin Guimera, (eds) (Palgrave Macmillan, 2012). Articles
récents: ‘Napoleon the politician’, dans The Napoleonic Empire and the New
European Political Culture, et « Who was Barry Edward O'Meara? », Napoleonica. La
Revue 2/2013 (N° 17).
Jacques-Olivier Boudon
Ancien élève de l’Ecole Normale Supérieure (1984-1988).
Agrégé d’histoire en 1986 (rang : 5e).
Docteur en histoire de l’université de Paris-Sorbonne en décembre 1991.
Habilité à diriger des recherches en histoire par l’université de Paris-Sorbonne en
décembre 1997.
Activités professionnelles
Depuis septembre 2003 professeur à l’université de Paris-Sorbonne (Paris IV).
De février 2004 à janvier 2009, Directeur du CIES-Sorbonne. Président de
l’Assemblée des Directeurs de CIES de 2005 à 2007.
Depuis le 1er octobre 2008, Directeur du Centre de Recherche en Histoire du
XIXe siècle.
Depuis le 28 janvier 2010, Directeur de l'Ecole doctorale 2, Histoire moderne et
contemporaine.
Responsabilités récentes ou actuelles
Président de l’Institut Napoléon depuis 1999, directeur de publication de la
Revue de l’Institut Napoléon, cofondateur et codirecteur de la Collection de
l'Institut Napoléon.
Membre du jury des Grands Prix de la Fondation Napoléon depuis 2001.
Membre du jury du Prix Mérimée (attribué à une thèse portant sur le Second
Empire) depuis 2002.
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Membre du comité éditorial de la revue Napoléon Ier. Magazine du Consulat et
de l’Empire, de la revue Napoléon III. Magazine du Second Empire.
Membre du comité d'accompagnement international du Champ de bataille de
Waterloo depuis 2003.
Membre du comité éditorial de la revue en ligne Napoleonica depuis 2008.
Membre du Award Committee de l'International Napoleonic Society depuis
2008.
Distinctions
Chevalier des palmes académiques en 2009.
Grande médaille d'or avec plaquette d'honneur décernée par la Société Arts,
Sciences et Lettres en 2011.
Philip Mansel
Dr. Philip Mansel is a historian of France and the Ottoman Empire. He was born in
London in 1951. He has written lives of Louis XVIII, (1981) and the Prince de Ligne
(1992), and histories of Constantinople (1995) and Paris between Empires (2001).
Philip Mansel has published twelve books of history and biography. Six have been
translated into French. Philip Mansel's latest book, Levant: Splendour and
Catastrophe on the Mediterranean, a history of Smyrna, Alexandria and Beirut, was
published in 2010 in Britain. Currently he writes for The Spectator, Cornucopia,
The Art Newspaper and The Times Literary Supplement.
In 1995 Philip Mansel was a founder with David Starkey, Robert Oresko and Simon
Thurley of the Society for Court Studies, designed to promote research in the field
of court history. He is the Editor of the Society's journal The Court Historian. He is
a Fellow of the Royal Historical Society, the Royal Society of Literature, and the
Institute of Historical Research (University of London), and is a member of the
Conseil Scientifique of the Centre de Recherche du Chateau de Versailles. In 2010
Philip Mansel was appointed Chevalier de l'Ordre des Arts et des Lettres and in
2012 was the recipient of the annual London Library Life in Literature Award.
Philip Mansel is currently working on a biography of Louis XIV. Website:
www.philipmansel.com
Emmanuel de Waresquiel
Emmanuel de Waresquiel, né le 21 novembre 1957 à Paris, est ancien élève de
l’Ecole Normale Supérieure de Saint-Cloud et docteur en histoire.
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En 1999 il a été nommé professeur à l’Ecole Pratique des Hautes Etudes avec le
titre d’Ingénieur de recherches hors classe. Il y conduit un séminaire en
iconographie politique sur la période contemporaine (Révolution, XIX-XXe siècle),
autour des rapports qu’entretiennent les textes et les images dans l’histoire des
représentations sociales et politiques. Il dirige actuellement une équipe autour de la
publication intégrale et critique des mémoires de Charles de Rémusat, l’une des
figures de proue du libéralisme politique du XIXe siècle.
Il travaille plus généralement sur l’histoire des représentations politiques, sociales,
esthétiques au XIXe siècle, sur la question de la mémoire révolutionnaire et contre-
révolutionnaire, des institutions, de la place des élites, de l’expérience
parlementaire sous la Restauration.
Emmanuel de Waresquiel a co-dirigé la Revue de la Société d’Histoire de la
Restauration et de la Monarchie Constitutionnelle (1987-1996) et est membre de
nombreux comités incluant le comité de rédaction de la revue Commentaire, la
Revue des Deux mondes et la revue en ligne Napoleonica.
Il a publié une cinquantaine d’articles scientifiques (essentiellement en histoire des
idées politiques et sociales, en histoire culturelle et des représentations (Révolution
– XIXe et XXe siècles) et environ cent cinquante articles de vulgarisation (Grandes
signatures, l’Histoire, Historia, la Revue Napoléon), articles, critiques, interviews ou
tribunes (Libération, le Monde, le Figaro, le Figaro Magazine, la Croix, Marianne, le
Spectacle du Monde). Il a publié une quinzaine d’ouvrages dont une Histoire de la
Restauration (en collaboration avec Benoît Yvert, Perrin, 1996), Talleyrand, le
prince immobile (Fayard, 2003), Cent Jours, la tentation de l’impossible (Fayard,
2008) et tout récemment, Fouché, les silences de la pieuvre (Tallandier/Fayard,
2014).
Alan Forrest
Alan Forrest is Emeritus Professor of Modern History at the University of York. He
has published widely on modern French history, especially on the French
Revolution and Empire and on the history of war. Authored books include
Napoleon’s Men: The Soldiers of the Revolution and Empire (London, 2002), Paris,
the Provinces, and the French Revolution (London, 2004), The Legacy of the French
Revolutionary Wars: The Nation-in-Arms in French Republican Memory (Cambridge,
2009), and, most recently, Napoleon (London, 2011). He is currently completing a
study of the afterlife of the Battle of Waterloo, which will be published by Oxford
University Press in spring 2015.
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Panel 1 – The Approach of Peace / Séance I: Vers la Paix
Présidence : Jean Tulard, Membre de l’Institut
(Notes produced by Marion Narran)
Le président de la séance présente la session et son organisation. Il introduit ce
bicentenaire de l’Ambassade britannique à Paris en retraçant les relations
tumultueuses entre les deux pays. Il évoque les différents affrontements qui ont eu
lieu entre la France et l’Angleterre, notant que les deux pays ont connu une année
de paix après le Traité d’Amiens des 25-27 mars 1802. Après la signature du traité
de Lunéville le 9 février 1801 l’Angleterre s’est retrouvée isolée et a fait des offres de
négociations à Paris. Les opinions étant lassées d’une guerre inutile, un équilibre
diplomatique s’établit progressivement. Dès lors, l’Angleterre devient amie de la
France. Les points de friction éliminés, le traité de paix peut être signé à Amiens.
La suite des relations entre les deux pays sera évoquée au cours de ce colloque.
Le président de séance évoque également celui qui fut un acteur important des
négociations, Charles-Maurice de Talleyrand-Périgord, grand diplomate français,
homme d’influence, ministre des Relations extérieures sous Napoléon. En politique
extérieure il défendait un axe Paris-Vienne, traversé par Londres et œuvrait pour
une paix durable entre les pays européens. Malgré le travail de Talleyrand la guerre
reprit en 1803 ; la paix d’Amiens ne fut qu’une trêve. Napoléon refusa d’écouter son
ministre et Talleyrand fut disgracié. Exilé à Londres il retrouva Arthur Wellesley, le
duc de Wellington qu’il avait rencontré au Congrès de Vienne. Il fut l’initiateur de
l’entente cordiale qui finira par unir les deux pays.
Le président de séance termine cette présentation des deux personnages clef de
cette rencontre, en remarquant que cette brève paix d’Amiens fut le préambule de
cette entente cordiale, qui anime aujourd’hui ce colloque.
John Bew – France, Britain and Europe at the End of the ‘Great War’, c.
1814 / La France, la Grande-Bretagne et l’Europe à la Fin des Guerres
Napoléoniennes, c. 1814
(Notes produced by Stewart McCain)
In the middle of March 1814 the Treaty of Chaumont was signed by Czar Alexander
I, by the Habsburg Emperor Francis II accompanied by his influential Foreign
Minister and future Chancellor, Metternich, by the Prussian King Frederick William
III and finally by the British Foreign Secretary Robert Stewart, better known as the
Viscount Castlereagh. The Treaty required Napoleon to give up all conquests, with
France reverting to her 1791 borders, in exchange for a cease-fire.
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The Allies each pledged to field 150,000 men, a force that would be used to
prosecute the war against France with renewed vigour if, as transpired, Napoleon
refused to come to terms. This force would then guarantee peace in Europe for a
period of twenty years.
The Treaty of Chaumont, and in particular Castlereagh’s pivotal role in its
negotiation, formed the basis of John Bew’s perceptive contribution to the
Colloquium. Chaumont has a double importance in the history of nineteenth
century statecraft.
Firstly, the treaty was crucial in binding the Allies of the Sixth Coalition together.
Before Chaumont, the Allies had been bound by no more than a series of bilateral
agreements, and were frequently divided over strategy. While Alexander was
desperate to march on Paris and dethrone Napoleon, the Prussians and particularly
the Austrians were more cautious. Metternich and Francis I, Napoleon’s father in
law, remained favourable to the idea of a Napoleonic France, albeit reduced to a
manageable size, and were more open to territorial concessions to achieve it. After
Chaumont, however, the Allies were uniformly committed to the invasion of France,
and within the month allied troops were assaulting the French capital.
Secondly, and perhaps more significantly, the Treaty of Chaumont formed the basis
for subsequent negotiations at the Congress of Vienna and, according to Bew,
marked a turning point in British foreign policy towards the continent. In pledging
British troops to secure any peace that followed Chaumont, Castlereagh not only
demonstrated his understanding of the ‘balance of power’ in Europe as central to
British interests, but made Britain a key player in the maintenance of this balance.
This desire to prevent the rise of a single hegemonic European power would inform
British foreign policy in Europe for the following hundred years and beyond.
Castlereagh, who was appointed Foreign Secretary in 1812, was not an obvious
proponent of a multilateral Europe. His experiences during the 1790s had
profoundly influenced his vision of the European situation. In 1791-2 Castlereagh
had travelled across France, and was struck by some of the darker excesses of the
Revolutionary period. In 1796, as Chief Secretary in Ireland, Castlereagh witnessed
the appearance of a French fleet off Bantry Bay, on the west coast of Ireland, part
of an invasion thwarted only by extreme weather conditions.
These experiences made Castlereagh one of the most determined parliamentary
advocates of an aggressive foreign policy stance towards France during the
Napoleonic Wars. Castlereagh had supported the British bombardment of
Copenhagen in 1807, an intervention designed to prevent Denmark from falling
into the French camp. He was responsible for the calamitous Walcheren campaign
of 1809, in which 39,000 troops invaded the island of Walcheren in the Low
Countries in support of the Austrians, who were then at war with Napoleon.
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Unfortunately for Castlereagh and the British, the Austrians collapsed to defeat at
the battle of Wagram before the British troops had even landed, and more than
4000 died from Walcheren fever before the force was eventually withdrawn.
Castlereagh was also firm in his support for Wellington and the Peninsular War,
even when both seemed lost causes.
Finally, as War Secretary between 1806 and 1809 Castlereagh spent
enthusiastically to give Britain what was at that time its largest ever land force. As
Bew states, Castlereagh was in modern parlance a hawk; pro-interventionist and
pro-bombardment where it might serve Britain in the struggle against France.
In 1814, however, the hawkish Castlereagh transformed himself into a ‘good
European’ - a multilateralist who eschewed imperialist land-grabbing to build
alliances with the other European powers. For much of the preceding two decades
Castlereagh had found himself on the extremes of public opinion, urging ever
greater resolve in Britain’s struggle with Napoleon. Yet with the war turning
decisively against France he suddenly found himself in the position of resisting
nationalist pressure at home to remove the Emperor and visit retribution on the
French, actions that would make the creation of a viable European settlement
more difficult.
Achieving a European balance of power would not be straightforward. Armed with
instructions from the Cabinet regarding the conduct of the upcoming peace
negotiations, Castlereagh arrived on the European mainland in January 1814,
shortly after allied troops had crossed the Rhine, penetrating for the ‘natural
frontiers’ established by the Republic for the first time. Despite this progress, the
alliance was wrought with diplomatic wrangling that Castlereagh feared would
disrupt the military effort. Russian emissaries warned Castlereagh over Austrian
intentions, but the British Foreign Secretary quickly came to view Russian
expansionism, which included designs on Poland, as the chief threat to a new
European settlement. This was compounded by the fraught issue of the French
succession, which threatened to split the alliance. While the Austrians favoured
Napoleon, Alexander was pushing for the Allies to depose Napoleon and place the
crown prince of Sweden, Jean Bernadotte, on the French throne, hoping that he
would prove favourable to Russian interests.
Metternich and Castlereagh recognised a common interest in this shared desire to
curb Russian ambitions and establish a viable balance of powers to ensure peace.
Castlereagh’s commitment to this project became clear in February 1815, when the
Allies travelled to Châtillon to begin peace negotiations with the French.
Castlereagh made it clear that Britain was willing to surrender many of the
overseas colonies it had taken from France in order to secure a peace settlement
and, crucially, a balanced system of power in Europe. This commitment is evident
in a letter written by Castlereagh to Lord Liverpool in which he explains his
thinking:
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In closing this statement I begged it might be understood, that it was the wish of my
Government in peace and in war to connect their interests with those of the Continent
– that whilst the state of Europe afforded little hope of a better order of things, Great
Britain had no other course left, than to create an independent existence for herself,
but now that she … was ready to make the necessary sacrifices on her part, to
reconstruct a balance in Europe.1
Castlereagh offered these ‘necessary sacrifices’ despite the strong opposition they
would likely engender back home. Not only was public opinion fiercely opposed to
any settlement with Napoleon, but sacrificing British colonial possessions opened
him to attack from mercantile interests.
Despite the ‘necessary sacrifices’ offered by Castlereagh, the proposition proved no
more appealing to Napoleon than it had done to British public opinion, and on the
8th February he rejected a treaty that would have forced him to abandon the
‘natural limits’ of France - the Rhine and the Alps. Turning back towards the
battlefield in the hopes of securing better terms, Napoleon was able to engineer a
mini-revival with stunning victories at Champaubert and Montmirail, stalling the
Châtillon peace process and forcing the Allies to retreat.
This renewed French momentum began to fracture the alliance, as confidence
turned to mutual recrimination. Castlereagh, uninhibited by his imperfect grasp of
French, took command of a meeting and argued against further retreat in a
memorable scene described by his private secretary, Lord Clanwilliam:
The game would have been up. Lord C., a very imperfect French scholar, but
accustomed to public speaking, addressed his colleagues, told them that Great
Britain had made enormous sacrifices and successful efforts; that it was mainly
owing to us that the Allies were where they were; that therefore Great Britain had a
right to a voice in whatever decision should be come to; that his opinion was that the
forward movement on Paris should be persevered in; that a retreat on the Rhine
might enable Buonaparte to break up the coalition altogether. Where lay the
difficulty?2
Thanks to the superior numbers and resources of the coalition allies, the tide of
conflict soon began to change, but Castlereagh’s intervention was crucial in
galvanising the alliance. On the 15th March Napoleon finally sued for peace, but by
this point the general alliance had been secured by the Treaty of Chaumont and
the Allies were marching towards Paris.
1 Cited in J. Bew Castlereagh: A Life (Oxford, 2012) p.341
2 Bew Castlereagh pp.343-4
14
Chaumont, however, was more than simply the basis for a strengthened alliance
against France. It was also the starting point for negotiations at the Congress of
Vienna, and opened the door for a conciliatory, rather than punitive peace, to a
settlement based on a vision of a multilateral Europe where no one power could
harbour realistic pretentions towards domination. This moment of Pan-European
sentiment moved even Alexander, who was content to see himself as a
magnanimous victor when he arrived in Paris, rather than seeking to exact
retribution for the burning of Moscow.
One crucial element of this moment of Pan-European feeling was the rise of Britain
as a significant continental land power. It was this new found military capability, a
capacity built up in part over the preceding decade by Castlereagh’s expenditure as
Minister for War, that had allowed Britain to take a pivotal role in negotiations- the
ability to intervene had given Britain leverage. This leverage, in Castlereagh’s
hands, allowed Britain to mediate at the negotiations that brought peace to Europe,
and establish a new continental state system based on the balance of powers
Castlereagh had desired.
The state system established by the Congress of Vienna remains a controversial
one. Some historians, notably Paul Schroeder in his influential work The
Transformation of European Politics, 1763-1848, have praised the relative stability
brought about by the Congress of Vienna. Yet balance did not mean gains for all,
and in this instance it was Poland that found itself most firmly situated amongst
the losers, with its territory split between Russia and Prussia. The fate of Poland
points to a criticism frequently levelled at the settlement devised by the Congress
that it ignored the national sentiments emerging across Europe in order to impose
a set of conservative governments on the continent. This critique was perhaps most
famously reflected in Wilson’s doctrine of national self-determination that held
sway during the negotiations for the Treaty of Versailles. Nevertheless, the Europe
that emerged from the end of the Napoleonic Wars was profoundly shaped by the
doctrine of a balance of powers, and by the role of the British state as guarantor, as
envisioned by Castlereagh at Chaumont in 1814.
Thierry Lenz – Équilibre et Modération : le Dialogue Franco-Britannique au Congrès de Vienne / Restraint: the Franco-British Dialogue at the
Congress of Vienna
(Notes produced by Marion Narran)
Il avait été relativement simple pour la France et la Grande-Bretagne de se faire la
guerre, il fut plus compliqué de faire la paix. La victoire avait été obtenue par une
coalition qui, à force de se déchirer, décida de se trouver un dénominateur
commun. Ce dénominateur commun sera la perte de Napoléon. Il faut se
débarrasser du souverain français, ainsi que de la dynastie des Bonaparte, devenus
trop gênants pour l’Europe.
15
La paix du continent n’a pas été assurée par le traité de Vienne mais par le traité
de Paris signé le 30 mai 1814 entre les sept grandes puissances : l’Angleterre, la
Russie, l’Autriche, la Prusse, la Suède, le Portugal et l’Espagne ainsi que le vaincu
français. Ce traité prévoyait la réunion rapide d’un congrès général qui devait se
retrouver à Vienne et concrètement réorganiser l’Europe après plus de vingt années
de guerre qui en avaient modifié la carte. La tâche était initialement matérielle et
technique : il s’agissait de reconstituer des États à partir de territoires qui avaient,
soit appartenu à la France, soit été donnés à la France par ses Alliés, soit qui
n’avaient jamais existé avant l’ère napoléonienne comme la Westphalie.
Neuf mois de débats furent nécessaires et le traité de Vienne fut finalement signé le
9 juin 1815 : c’est l’acte final du Congrès de Vienne. Ces longs mois de gestation du
traité furent nécessaires. Il est important de signaler que ce traité fut signé avant la
bataille de Waterloo et par conséquent ce n’est pas le traité de Vienne qui est
responsable de ce qui se passa ensuite avec le deuxième traité de Paris du 20
novembre, qui donna l’occasion au duc de Wellington de se préparer à gouverner
l’Angleterre en gouvernant la France. Ces neuf mois peuvent apparaître comme un
grand moment de collaboration entre deux hommes exceptionnels qu’étaient le
secrétaire d’État aux Affaires étrangères, Lord Castlereagh et Talleyrand, qui se
sont entendus pour conduire l’Europe vers un nouvel équilibre.
Il faut rappeler que ce congrès, qui s’est réuni à la suite d’une guerre et de la
défaite de la France, marque alors la victoire de la conception britannique de
l’équilibre européen. Cette longue guerre qui a duré plus de vingt ans, va
finalement faire triompher le principe d’un équilibre européen, principe qui
s’opposait à l’esprit de système agité par l’Espagne puis l’Autriche, ainsi que la
France sous le règne de Louis XIV qui régnait sur le Continent. Toute la subtilité
des partenaires anglais réside dans le choix des mots ; bien qu’à l’époque l’opinion
n’avait pas l’importance qu’elle possède aujourd’hui, l’Angleterre choisit de
s’appuyer sur un principe qui fera l’unanimité, le « balance of soft power ». Cette
conception de l’équilibre européen s’est imposée à tous, elle est devenue
incontestable. Face à lui, Talleyrand, sans être anglophile, avait compris que
l’équilibre européen était propice au développement.
En cela il était peut-être le plus britannique des diplomates européens. Talleyrand
participe beaucoup aux débats, ceci étant facilité par le remplacement de Napoléon
par Louis XVIII. Ces deux protagonistes, plutôt éloignés sur bien des points, ont
donc fini par s’entendre.
Fort de cette conception, Castlereagh est arrivé en Europe relativement confiant sur
le fait que ses créanciers, c’est-à-dire tous les États dont l’Angleterre avait financé
la guerre, allaient approuver ses projets. Castlereagh avait une idée claire de l’issue
des négociations.
Si les choses ont, bien entendu, ont été plus complexes, au moment où Castlereagh
se présente à Vienne, il peut se dire tout à fait désintéressé, pour une simple et
bonne raison qu’il a déjà tout ce dont il a besoin : les forces britanniques occupent
16
les îles importantes, les points de passages essentiels au commerce. Les
britanniques font preuve de pragmatisme. Pour eux, d’un côté, la diplomatie et
l’économie sont liées, le diplomate est en position de force. De l’autre côté, il a
affaire aux vaincus : Talleyrand est un vaincu mais il a en quelque sorte choisi le
successeur, Louis XVIII, qui accepte de gouverner le royaume de ses ancêtres, aux
frontières plus restreintes. Il a donc beaucoup moins de difficulté à parler en étant
le ministre de Louis XVIII que de Napoléon.
Les deux hommes ont constaté qu’en matière de géopolitique les forces profondes
ne s’effacent pas à la suite de guerres ou de défaites militaires. Dans ces forces
profondes de la diplomatie européenne, un danger se confirmait, la grande
ambition russe de mettre en œuvre les grands tropismes de sa diplomatie : les
Russes veulent être européens, se mêler des affaires de l’Europe. Pour ce faire il
faut s’étendre vers l’Ouest, par alliances matrimoniales, mais surtout par
l’occupation de la Pologne. En échange, pour avoir le soutien de la Prusse, la
Russie l’autorise à annexer la Saxe. Les Russes voulaient développer leur
commerce en s’octroyant un accès aux mers chaudes par les ports. Ces velléités
militaires et économiques n’étaient tolérées ni par l’Angleterre ni par la France, qui
dans ce domaine avaient été des alliés objectifs dans le passé. Face au danger de
cette alliance prusso-russe, va se dessiner en face une alliance franco-austro-
anglaise. C’est à ce moment que le dialogue va se révéler efficace et aboutir à la
signature d’un traité en janvier 1815, traité resté longtemps secret pendant le
Congrès de Vienne, entre l’Autriche, l’Angleterre et la France. Ce traité avait pour
but d’obliger les Russes et les Prussiens à évacuer les territoires occupés.
Cette collaboration va aboutir, après bien des péripéties, à une définition de
l’équilibre qui pouvait satisfaire les deux camps, sachant que le camp français était
extraordinairement modéré, dirigé par un Louis XVIII dénué d’esprit de conquête et
un Talleyrand qui faisait de la relance de la vie économique une priorité pour la
France. Les protagonistes se mettent d’accord sur plusieurs points, y compris des
points qui vont au détriment du royaume de France. L’Europe doit être divisée en
toute une série de puissances qui vont pouvoir ainsi s’équilibrer.
Cette notion d’équilibre est défendue par les Britanniques qui estiment que
l’Europe ne doit pas être dirigée par un ou deux États, elle doit être composée
d’États totalement indépendants. Il faut également veiller à neutraliser les avancées
russes et entourer le royaume de France de « sécurités », avec des zones de
neutralité comme les Pays-Bas, la Belgique ou la Suisse, rendre enfin l’Espagne
aux Bourbons. Dès lors, la prépondérance française sur le continent devient
impossible. C’est tout l’esprit de la diplomatie britannique ; elle ne souhaite pas la
destruction de la France mais simplement la neutraliser pour la faire revenir,
progressivement, dans le concert européen.
Pour la France, il n’y aura jamais plus de possibilité de devenir une grande
puissance mondiale, elle devra s’appuyer sur le soutien de l’Angleterre. À plus long
terme, c’est véritablement le début du grand siècle anglais, qui fera du pays la
première puissance du monde, l’arbitre et l’animateur du concert européen.
17
Questions and Answers/Débat
(Notes produced by Marion Narran and Stewart McCain)
On the Emergence of a ‘Concert of Europe’
The end of the Napoleonic Wars and the Congress of Vienna saw the emergence of a
new geopolitical order in Europe. This order was known as the ‘Congress System’ or
‘Concert of Europe’ and in large part reflected the ideal of a balance of powers
between the major European states. Although the Concert lacked formal
institutions, each of the five powers- Britain, France, Russia, Prussia and Austria,
could call a meeting of European powers to mediate disputes and discuss matters
of mutual interest. This Concert of European states was challenged by essentially
local disturbances and ‘regional’ conflicts like the Franco-Prussian War, as well as
the revolutionary and nationalist movements of 1848, but remained substantially
intact until the outbreak of the First World War a century later, when the speed of
events ultimately led to its collapse.
The emergence of this Concert of Europe reflected important cultural, as well as
political and diplomatic impulses. The idea of a shared European civilization,
grounded on the intellectual developments of the Renaissance and Enlightenment,
was an influential one during the period, buttressed by the use of French as a
shared language of diplomatic and cultural exchange. For example, despite acting
as the most committed hawk amongst the Allies during much of the wars of the 5th
and 6th coalition, Alexander I expressed support for the ‘Ligue Européenne’ which
could arbitrate conflicts and guarantee the territorial integrity of its members.
On Castlereagh, the British and the European Balance of Power
This Concert of Europe reflected the growing centrality of a European balance of
power to British foreign policy. The European geopolitical settlement that emerged
from the end of the Napoleonic Wars rested, at least initially, on British military
commitment to the continent. The British military presence consisting of 150,000
troops were committed to the continent by the British under the terms of the 1814
Treaty of Chaumont, was largely the work of Castlereagh, who first as Minister of
War had overseen enormous spending on the military and then as Foreign
Secretary, guaranteed the involvement of British forces, despite domestic
opposition to a prolonged British military presence in Europe. This British military
contribution was the ‘blood sacrifice’ understood by Castlereagh as pivotal to the
establishment of a European balance of power.
The British preference for a ‘balance of power’ concerned not only foreign affairs,
but the internal balance of power within states. The question of ‘good government’
became central. This meant, for the British, ‘stable’ rather than ‘reactionary’ or
‘conservative’ government. The issue of the internal government of states within
Europe emerged most clearly during the period of the Congress of Vienna with
18
reference to Napoleon and his family. Castlereagh had a preference for the return of
the Bourbons, yet up until late 1814 there was no consensus over the removal of
the Bonapartes from power- many supported Napoleon or regency under his son,
as a bulwark against the factionalism and violence of the Revolution. It was the
Congress of Vienna, rather than the British alone, that eventually decided to
dispose of Napoleon towards the end of 1814.
On Abolitionism and Diplomacy at the End of the Napoleonic Wars
Abolitionism was a potentially significant source of tension amongst the Allies in
1814. The British actively pursued the end of the slave trade. Following the 1807
abolition of the trade by Parliament every agreement signed by the British
stipulated that the slave trade should be abolished. Many of the other colonial
powers regarded British demands on slavery as self-interested, seeking to
undermine a source of labour which British colonies had already been obliged to
abjure. Many therefore demanded delays in an effort to safeguard their economic
self-interest.
For Castlereagh, abolitionists like Wilberforce represented an important domestic
constituency, and he was at least able to obtain a declaration of principle on the
abolition of the slave trade. However, Castlereagh was also aware that Britain’s
allies were often frustrated by what they regarded as British ‘moralizing’ over the
slave trade, and in general he sought to avoid discussion of the issue.
Les questions des différents participants s’orientent sur plusieurs thématiques
fondamentales :
Naissance du Concert Européen
Son excellence Jacques Alain de Sedouy évoque l’intervention de John Bew et
ajoute quelques mots sur le thème de l’équilibre européen. Lorsque la notion
d’équilibre européen est évoquée par le ministre des Affaires Étrangères
britannique Lord Castlereagh, ce dernier fait référence à l’idée fondamentale de la
stabilisation de l’équilibre européen afin de garantir les frontières européennes. Le
dialogue au Congrès de Vienne semble surtout être un dialogue entre deux grandes
puissances, le Royaume-Uni et l’Empire russe. Ce dialogue sur l’idée d’un équilibre
européen maintenu par les grandes puissances est né en 1804. Les Anglais
opposent cependant aux propositions russes des idées plus pragmatiques : des
accords garantissant la sécurité des frontières.
Ces idées de sécurisation des frontières, balayées par Austerlitz, ressurgissent au
moment du Congrès de Vienne. Lors des négociations pour la signature d’un
accord collectif de sécurisation des frontières, les Anglais insistent pour que les
Ottomans soient intégrés dans cet accord. En effet, du côté anglais, il semblait
important de garantir les frontières turques afin de se prémunir contre les
éventuelles incursions des Russes aux frontières turques. Les discussions vont
achopper sur ce point avant de reprendre, pour finalement aboutir à un résultat
19
moins ambitieux : l’insertion d’une stipulation dans le traité d’alliance signé entre
les quatre puissances qui ont remporté la guerre.
Ce traité qui scelle cette quadruplealliance, signée à Paris le 20 novembre 1815 sur
l’initiative de Castlereagh préfigure une alliance européenne plus large dédiée au
maintien de la paix. L’article 6 stipule que les pays signataires s’engagent à se
réunir régulièrement pour traiter de leurs « grands intérêts communs » ; ils
s’engagent plus largement à œuvrer au maintien de la paix en Europe. C’est l’acte
fondateur du concert européen. La paix établie dure jusqu’au moment des guerres
de Crimée (1853-1856) _ elles-mêmes achevées par le traité de Paris du 30 mars
1856. La France et l’Angleterre tenteront d’intégrer la Turquie dans ce concert
européen, en traitant ce pays comme un pays européen, sans l’intégrer de manière
explicite et durable. C’est que l’idée d’une civilisation européenne s’impose,
accompagnée d’une conscience forte d’appartenance à une même civilisation
européenne, née de la Réforme puis des Lumières.
Sort de Napoléon
Le Baron Claude de Méneval demande à Thierry Lentz si les relations entre les
diplomates n’ont pas été facilitées du fait de la mise hors-la-loi de Napoléon par le
Congrès de Vienne. Thierry Lentz explique que les évènements de 1814 ne révèlent
pas une Europe se soulevant contre les forces de la Révolution mais plutôt une
union plus tardive et conjoncturelle, établie pour se débarrasser de Napoléon qui
avait noué trop d’alliances pendant son règne. Une fois ce « dénominateur
commun » soldé, les hostilités ont rapidement repris entre les pays. Jean Tulard
ajoute à ce propos que cette mise hors-la-loi est une décision issue des
négociations du Congrès de Vienne et pas seulement le fruit de la pression de
l’Angleterre.
Congrès de Vienne
Isabelle Tombs demande aux deux intervenants des précisions sur le contenu du
Traité de Vienne. Tout particulièrement en ce qui concerne l’abolition de la traite de
noirs. Thierry Lentz répond qu’il concerne plusieurs matières, notamment les
conditions relatives à la paix ainsi qu’à la délimitation des frontières. D’autres
discussions importantes vont se dérouler pendant le Congrès de Vienne dont la
plus emblématique est celle de l’abolition de la traite des noirs. Ce dernier point est
important pour les Anglais qui ont aboli la traite depuis 1807 et incluent dans tous
leurs traités de subsides une clause d’abolition.
Les autres pays étaient au mieux, philosophiquement en harmonie avec cette idée,
au pire pas opposés à l’abolition dans le futur ; tous demandaient des délais pour
l’abolition effective. Castlereagh va réussir à arracher une déclaration de principe
concernant l’abolition de la traite dans le Traité.
Un intervenant ajoute que le Cardinal Consalvi, proche du ministre des Affaires
Étrangères britannique, a œuvré à l’insertion d’un accord sur l’abolition de la traite
20
des noirs. Ce cardinal a eu une influence non négligeable sur les différentes
négociations concernant l’abolition, voire peut-être dans d’autres matières. C’est le
signe de relations complexes, d’accords qui se nouent et se dénouent au gré des
alliances, non seulement entre les représentants diplomatiques des pays mais entre
les hommes.
Un orateur précise à ce propos que la particularité de ce Congrès est la présence,
en grand nombre, de souverains de chaque pays. L’Empereur d’Autriche a en effet
invité ses homologues à le rejoindre à Vienne. Ce facteur a compliqué les relations
diplomatiques dans la mesure où certains souverains ont pu s’immiscer dans les
négociations, avec parfois des interventions très directes.
Panel 2 – The Duel for Europe / Le Duel pour l’Europe
Chair: Marquess of Douro
(Notes produced by Graham Callister)
After thanking his hosts and expressing pleasure at being able to attend a
colloquium in the residence bought two centuries ago by his illustrious ancestor,
the Marquess began by admitting surprise at the title of the panel, as he had never
looked upon the contest between Napoleon and Wellington as a duel. There was
only one actual ‘duel’ between the two, at Waterloo in 1815. Prior to that they had
never had any direct confrontation, and the Marquess had always had the
impression that Napoleon didn’t take Wellington seriously at any point; the Duke,
on the other hand, always had a high regard for Napoleon. Although Wellington
criticised certain details of Napoleon’s strategy and politics, he also admired the
man. There are, for example, many paintings of Napoleon and his family at
Stratfield Saye and Apsley House. The Marquess expressed his belief that
Wellington did not see the conflict as a personal duel with Napoleon; indeed as
John Bew argued this morning, Britain was just a small part of the overall allied
struggle against Napoleon. But there is still debate to be had on these issues, and
he’s honoured to chair the debate in such appropriate surrounds.
Andrew Roberts – Wellington and Napoleon
(Notes produced by Graham Callister)
Having thanked his hosts and the panel chair, Roberts conceded that the Marquess
of Douro’s criticism of the panel title is probably fair. However, he light-heartedly
admitted that he may be partly responsible for this, as the phrase ‘the Long Duel’
was used as the subtitle to one of his books by an overzealous American publisher.
Roberts began his paper by saying that it was not true that Napoleon wildly
underestimated the Duke of Wellington. Since the then-general Sir Arthur
Wellesley’s early victories over Napoleonic forces at the battles of Roliça and
21
Vimeiro in 1808, Napoleon showed himself interested in the capacities of
Wellington. When he heard about Vimeiro Napoleon made a point of looking in
depth at the reports; it seems that even at this stage he paid at least passing
attention to Wellington. It is this, and other evidence that will be presented in due
course, that has made Roberts alter his opinions a little since the publication of his
2003 book Napoleon and Wellington. In fact, probably the key factor in changing his
mind is the publication of Napoleon’s full correspondence in recent years, which
shows that the emperor referred time and again to Wellington in his letters.
Napoleon is often accused of speaking pejoratively about Wellington, but in fact
there is no proof that he ever directly used phrases such as ‘Sepoy General’, which
appeared in the Moniteur. Certainly it is a slur, and it certainly does appear in an
official publication, but that does not mean that Napoleon himself was responsible
for it.
It does perhaps show that the French did not fully appreciate the military
capacities of Indian troops, and it ignores the great victories of Assaye and Argaon
that Wellington won, but it does not necessarily follow that Napoleon wildly
underestimated Wellington.
It was not, however, until Wellington left India in 1805 that he had any kind of
influence on the career of Napoleon, and even then the influence that he had was
not to be seen for another ten years. For in 1805 Wellington, on his return voyage
from India, visited St Helena, and came to the conclusion that it would be a
pleasant and healthy climate in which to live. However, Wellington only ever visited
the capital Jamestown, on the coast of the island, where the climate is indeed
pleasant, and did not venture up to Longwood where humidity is up to one
hundred percent for about 330 days of the year. So, when Wellington recommended
St Helena as a place for Napoleon to live out his days, it would not have been out of
malice.
The two men never met and only fought one battle against each other. At Waterloo
they were at one point within perhaps 250 yards of each other, which is the closest
they ever came. Their paths might have crossed in the Iberian Peninsula, but
Wellington was called back to face the Cintra inquiry before Napoleon arrived in
1808, and Napoleon had returned to Paris to deal with Austrian re-armament and
his subordinates’ disloyalty before Wellington came back to Portugal in 1809 (and
as an aside, the room in which the Cintra enquiry was held in the Royal Hospital in
Chelsea was also the room in which Wellington’s body lay in state over forty years
later).
Although Napoleon left the Iberian Peninsula in 1809 he retained a deep interest in
the theatre. When looking at the battles in the Peninsula, Napoleon was very
careful to differentiate between Wellington’s intelligent dispositions and the
mistakes of his own subordinates. One sees this particularly with Talavera, after
which Napoleon was furious with the lies that his own generals told in their
reports. Napoleon in the end came to trust Wellington’s accounts of engagements
22
published in British newspapers, rather than the reports of his marshals. He came
to believe, as he told General Clarke, that if French troops launched frontal
assaults on well positioned, steady troops like the British, they would simply be
throwing their lives away.
Wellington’s operations often impressed Napoleon; he was impressed by the sheer
ruthlessness of the scorched earth policy before Torres Vedras, claiming ‘In Europe,
only Wellington and I are capable of carrying out such measures. But this is the
difference between him and me: France would blame me, while Europe will approve
of him.’
Wellington for his part also studied Napoleon’s battles. He read the many journals
that were being written about Napoleon. After the Battle of Fuentes D’Oðoro,
Wellington claimed that if Napoleon had been there, the British might have been
beaten. This attitude was encapsulated in a phrase Wellington later frequently
used: ‘On the field of battle, Napoleon is worth 40,000 men’.
This should not be taken as a literal valuation of the Emperor, but more an
indication that Wellington considered Napoleon’s military genius worth a whole
army corps to the French.
However, Wellington was not beaten at Fuentes D’Oðoro. Indeed, he defeated six of
Napoleon’s marshals during the course of the Peninsular War – almost all who
served in the Peninsula apart from Suchet. In exile on Elba, Napoleon
acknowledged Wellington’s skill to English visitors and made many positive
comments about him and his abilities as a soldier. Yet Napoleon also maintained
that Wellington’s appointment to the Paris embassy was a mistake. He opined that
it would be galling to the French army to see this general who had defeated their
armies offering advice to their king. This was shown by the assassination attempt
against Wellington by Sergeant Cantillon, who fired a pistol at Wellington’s carriage
but was not convicted because the bullet couldn’t be found.
Napoleon in his exile was even less impressed that Wellington appeared to be
cultivating a relationship with his wife, Marie-Louise. This was not the only link
between the two men that appeared during Wellington’s time in Paris; indeed, the
Duke seemed to go on a form of Napoleonic tourism. He bought a sword and a
watch from the men who had supplied these items to the emperor; he bought the
house of Napoleon’s sister, Pauline Borghese; he took on Napoleon’s old chef; and
he slept with two of the emperor’s former mistresses. To sleep with one mistress
would perhaps be coincidence, but sleeping with two must be more deliberate.
There are certainly many coincidences in the lives of the two men: both were born
in 1769, on an island close to the metropolitan power they eventually led. Their
fathers both died when they were young (Wellington 12, Napoleon 15). Both came
from minor noble, but not especially wealthy, families. Their siblings impacted
upon their careers both positively and negatively. Both attended French military
23
academies, and for both French was a second language. Both even shared an
admiration for Hannibal as a historical figure.
Nonetheless, they did not meet across a battlefield until Waterloo. At the beginning
of the battle a commander of the British artillery asked Wellington for permission to
fire at Napoleon and his entourage, but the Duke refused to allow it. Earlier in the
day, at Napoleon’s headquarters in the farmhouse of Le Caillou, Napoleon made his
infamous comment about the English being bad soldiers, Wellington being a bad
general, and that the day sera l’affaire d’un déjeuner. But this almost certainly does
not reflect Napoleon’s real views or feelings on the day.
This was a pre-battle pep-talk. He needed to downplay the abilities of the enemy,
not emphasise their prowess. These statements about Wellington being a bad
general and the British being bad soldiers were quite contrary to previous opinions.
In 1821, Wellington was asked who the greatest general of his age was Wellington
replied without hesitation ‘in this age, in past ages, in any age: Napoleon’. In the
same year, after the death of Napoleon, Wellington proclaimed ‘now I am the most
successful general alive’, indicating that until then his great adversary had been.
Napoleon had fought sixty battles and won forty-six, won pyrrhic victories in seven,
and lost seven. Wellington fought forty-six battles and won them all. It was perhaps
a generous comment.
In 1840, when the French government requested that the body of Napoleon should
be returned to France, the British government of course consulted Wellington.
Wellington responded ‘the French are bound to make a fuss about this, but I don’t
give a tuppenny damn about that’. Had Wellington opposed the return of the body,
it was very unlikely that the British government would have acceded to Louis-
Philippe’s government’s demands. And the French didn’t make the return of the
body into a political or anti-British issue, which is reflected by the absence of anti-
British ideas in Napoleon’s tomb in Les Invalides. In fact, Roberts believes that had
Napoleon lived until the 1840s, Wellington may not even have opposed his return
to France, especially if it had been requested by Louis-Philippe or by Napoleon III
as Prince-President after 1848.
So it seems that the story of the two men reverberates positively on both sides.
There were certainly moments when it seemed the two men did not like each other,
and it was certainly unworthy of Napoleon to leave a sum of money in his will to
the man who tried to assassinate Wellington. However, this was probably because
Napoleon (quite rightly) suspected Wellington of being partly responsible for his
exile to St Helena.
In general, however, the story of the interrelationship between the men is one of
one battle, a good deal of mutual respect and appreciation between the two, and
ultimately reflects honourably on both sides.
24
Marquess of Douro
(Notes produced by Graham Callister)
The Marquess thanked Andrew Roberts for the paper, and said that he hadn’t
realised that Wellington had not seen all of St Helena. He then offered an anecdote
about the first Duke. At Stratfield Saye they have a watch made by Breguet on
which there are the arms of Spain and a map of the Iberian Peninsula. It was made
for Joseph Bonaparte but was not presented to him as he lost control of Spain in
1813. It was acquired in 1814 by General Paget and given to Wellington, and it
remained the Duke’s principal watch for a long time.
Peter Hicks – Napoléon et les Britanniques: Mythes et Histoire /
Napoleon and the British: Myths and History
(Notes produced by Marion Narran)
La légende napoléonienne est profondément inscrite dans l’histoire politique et
culturelle française. Elle a également dépassé les frontières européennes, se
transformant chez certains peuples en légende noire. Les relations tumultueuses
entre la France et la Grande-Bretagne illustrent bien l’évolution de la perception de
Napoléon dans l’opinion britannique. La légende de Napoléon se dessine au travers
de publications le concernant, caricatures de presse ou biographies. L’image de
Napoléon en Grande-Bretagne a évolué au gré des évènements et des différences
culturelles. L’histoire de ce personnage complexe s’écrit aussi dans les biographies
publiées entre 1797 et 1815. Napoléon n’ignorait pas l’opinion publique
européenne. Homme de son temps, il s’intéresse à la culture et aux institutions
britanniques, cite volontiers Adam Smith. Il déclare au Sénat en 1804 que « Rien
n’est plus différent que la France et l’Angleterre ». Pour celui qui n’est pas encore
empereur, les Français sont des amoureux de l’égalité, mais ils sont futiles, tandis
que les Anglais sont graves et ont de l’orgueil plutôt que de la vanité. Il est alors
impossible de donner les mêmes institutions à deux peuples si différents. Outre-
Manche, les Anglais ont eu une perception fluctuante du futur empereur, faite
d’admiration et de rejet extrême. Cette perception s’illustre dans la façon dont
l’homme, tout comme le chef d’État, est traité dans la presse et l’art anglais.
L’image qu’il véhicule en Grande-Bretagne est ambivalente. Dès 1797 des auteurs
britanniques s’intéressent à la vie de Napoléon. Ce ne sont pas que des textes
gorgés de calomnies destinées à salir son nom. Ce dernier est en effet plutôt
apprécié des milieux libéraux en Grande-Bretagne. On voit en lui l’héritier des idées
du XVIIIème siècle, l’initiateur d’une démocratie royale, le porteur des idéaux de la
Révolution. Ainsi, William Vincent Barré et Lodewyck Van Ess publièrent des
ouvrages en plusieurs volumes rassemblant des « détails authentiques » sur
« l’élévation sans parallèle » du général et homme d’État entre 1804 et 1809.
Les premières biographies de Napoléon sont relativement positives, telles que le
court ouvrage Some account of the early years of Buonaparte, par Mr C. H., ou
25
encore Biographical anecdotes of the founders of the French Republic: and of the
other eminent characters, who have distinguished themselves in the progress of the
Revolution publié anonymement en 1797, puis en 1799 (une édition augmentée).
Ces différentes rééditions du Biographical Anecdotes ont connu une grande
popularité et reflètent bien toute l’admiration vouée à Napoléon dans les milieux
libéraux. Il est, au contraire, peu apprécié des hommes politiques de droite, voire
haï de façon irrationnelle par certains d’entre eux, bien qu’il fût un homme d’ordre.
Cette image, positive chez les libéraux, d’héritier des Lumières et de la Révolution
en fait une menace pour les milieux conservateurs.
Toutefois la « golden legend » napoléonienne commence à s’étioler lentement. Les
libéraux, enthousiastes à son égard subissent une forte désillusion face aux dérives
autoritaires du souverain. À partir de l’année 1800, les premières critiques de
l’establishment britannique se font entendre. Deux biographies de Napoléon
paraissent au cours de l’année 1804, la première par William Burdon of Morpeth et
la seconde par le franco-allemand émigré William Vincent Barré. Burdon est
relativement favorable à Napoléon avant la paix d’Amiens mais commence à
considérer l’Empereur comme un despote en devenir. Pour l’auteur la principale
qualité est qu’il échappe aux politiques de partis ; c’est l’homme du rassemblement.
Mais il se montre déçu lorsque Napoléon fait revivre l’Ancien Régime avec le
Consulat à vie. Pour les libéraux, le masque tombe. Les caricatures se multiplient,
illustrant cette déception libérale qui laisse libre court à l’imagination : on voit
Napoléon se partageant le monde. La guerre des mots fait rage : les auteurs ne le
nomment plus que « Buonaparte » pour souligner son origine étrangère et il est
décrit, dessiné, repris comme le démon français, l’Antéchrist.
Quelques auteurs lui restent malgré tout fidèles comme Anne Plumptre, qui
critique les ouvrages hostiles au personnage. Grande libérale, elle publie en 1810
un ouvrage dévoué au héros Napoléon pour répondre aux critiques dont il fait de
plus en plus l’objet Outre-manche. John Scott Byerley publie quant à lui la même
année un ouvrage soulignant l’analogie entre les principes de Machiavel et les
actions de Bonaparte, accordant à ce dernier toutes les qualités du bon prince.
L’auteur est plus critique que sa contemporaine envers Napoléon, mais reste
admiratif.
Tous ces textes, d’origines variées et qui écrivent une histoire multiple et complexe
de Napoléon, apportent également un éclairage intéressant et contemporain de la
vie de Napoléon. Les écrits anglais, mêlant fiction et faits, de façon neutre ou
subjective, parfois avec attention ou de manière aléatoire, établissent la trame
suivie par tous les auteurs qui tente d’écrire l’histoire et la légende de Napoléon.
26
Questions and Answers/Débat
(Notes produced by Marion Narran and Graham Callister)
The discussion revolved around many of the themes brought up in the two papers;
the idea of the duel between Wellington and Napoleon, the issue of Napoleon’s
acceptance of his defeat in 1814, the attitudes of Britain towards Napoleon, and the
Anglo-French relationship after 1814.
A Duel between France and Britain?
The first part of the discussion concerned whether it was indeed possible to see this
period as a duel between France and England. The analogy was after all even used
by Napoleon, who said that he invaded Russia because of that country’s failure to
act as his second in the duel against Britain. It was suggested that this was indeed
the end of a far larger duel, as 1815 was the culmination of the ‘second hundred
years war’ between France and Britain; for two-thirds of the century or so before
1815 Britain and France were at war, either overtly or covertly. Therefore the
Napoleonic Wars can be seen in a way as a continuation of older trends.
It was suggested that perhaps Waterloo itself had some elements of a duel about it
and was heavily influenced by the persons and personalities of the two
commanders-in-chief, although this was disputed. The battle perhaps said
something about the attitudes of Wellington, who was very meticulous in the
presence of his great foe, but Napoleon made a number of mistakes, often against
his own military maxims, not least allowing D’Erlon’s corps to march back and
forth all day on 16th June and splitting his army two days before Waterloo. The
Emperor’s defeat stemmed from a failure to use his resources properly, such as
leaving his most able marshal, Davout, in Paris, and from the fact that the
Prussians didn’t behave as predicted and marched towards Wellington rather than
retreating along their supply lines. Therefore while the battle said something about
Wellington, it said very little about Napoleon.
Napoleon’s Strategy
The discussion then turned to Napoleon, and whether his behaviour in exile in
1814 showed that he was magnanimous in defeat. It was suggested that Napoleon
had genuinely wanted peace in France, and so may have put that before his own
ambition. But it was also pointed out that Napoleon was a master of propaganda,
so of course he would say things to make himself appear magnanimous and
supportive of the new regime.
However, he paid such close attention to France from Elba that it seems he was
always looking to see if the Bourbons would drop the ball. If Louis XVIII had
governed better it might have been impossible for Napoleon to return.
27
It was also suggested that Napoleon’s attitudes may have changed due to his
location so close to the coast of France. Was any magnanimity of 1814 lost because
the lure of a return to France proved too great?
Britain’s Attitude to Napoleon
The question was then raised of Britain’s attitudes to Napoleon. A study of
caricatures such as those shown by Peter Hicks in his paper show a fundamental
shift in how the British portray the war with France. Until 1801 it is a war against
the Revolution, but after 1803 it is a war against Napoleon. The point was made
that as Britain was happy to negotiate in 1806, seeing Napoleon at least as a strong
and authoritarian figure in government. The British evidently didn’t see Napoleon
as a radical bringer of Terror; they had separated him from the Revolution, and
made him out to be a tyrant instead. It was commented that perhaps Napoleon was
very unlucky to come to power at the same time that some of the world’s greatest
political caricaturists were active, such as James Gillray, George Cruikshank and
Thomas Rowlandson, but that their caricatures did not necessarily reflect British
public opinion.
Napoleon and France could often be invoked positively in Britain as a stick to beat
the British government, as William Cobbett did on a regular basis. There is
nonetheless proof that British public opinion had a passionate hatred of Napoleon
by 1814, certainly among the ordinary people of London. Most British people were
very anti-Napoleon, and he was burned in effigy by crowds.
In 1815 it is true that people flocked to see Napoleon when he was held on a ship
off the south coast, and that Napoleon himself wanted to land in Britain in the
belief that the British people would not let their government dispose of him, but by
July 1815 Napoleon was safely beaten and was more a matter of celebrity curiosity.
Anglo-French Relationship after 1814
Finally, the discussion then turned to the fact that 1814-15 was a time for resetting
relationships, not just between Britain and France but between Britain and the
United States. In both of these relationships, despite recent conflicts, connections
and interactions between the elites of the countries had already existed for a long
time. This is opposed to British views of the Russians, for example, who they
viewed with horrified fascination. It was suggested that the close Anglo-French elite
relations may have created the idea of some form of shared Western European
distinctiveness, and certainly amity between France and Britain was much more
pronounced than British-American or British-Eastern relations after 1814. There
have been several instances of Anglo-French rapprochement since 1814; Britain
fought alongside France in the Crimea for example, and Napoleon III’s visit to
Britain in 1855 was a great success. British American relations only really got
closer after the treaty of 1890. In the cultural sphere, a few years after Waterloo the
English became great buyers of French arts and furniture. Mutual admiration
between Britain and France was very noticeable in these years. But this didn’t
happen with the United States.
28
There was even a sort of amity between the British and French soldiers in the
Peninsular War, while the British tended to despise their Spanish allies. So there
was definitely a sense of respect. There was also tourism. Britons love Paris, and
came in droves in 1814. There was a sense of community, though on a simple level
rather than an ideological level; a sense of common experience perhaps. That said,
French caricaturists depicted the British tourists in Paris very badly! Plus ça
change…
Panel 3 – A New Relationship after Waterloo / De Nouvelles Relations
après Waterloo
Présidence: Jacques-Olivier Boudon
(Notes produced by Marion Narran)
Nos deux pays, la France et la Grande-Bretagne, sont souvent du même avis sur
les grands principes, les grands projets ; les débats achoppent souvent sur les
détails, sur de bien petites choses, parfois mesquines. Faut-il rappeler que les deux
pays se sont menés une lutte farouche sur deux thèmes. Le premier est celui, très
sensible, de la taille de Napoléon. L’empereur mesure cinq pieds deux pouces.
Calculé selon la numération française, cela représente 1m68. Selon la numération
anglaise, il serait beaucoup plus petit et ferait 1m57. Pour cette raison,
l’historiographie anglaise persiste à faire de Napoléon un petit homme, pour une
regrettable différence de conversion. Il faut pourtant se défaire de cette triste idée
selon laquelle Napoléon aurait été petit. Certes, cette taille n’impose pas
l’admiration aujourd’hui, mais pour l’époque il était d’une taille moyenne, tout à
fait respectable.
Un second détail, non moins sérieux, fit chavirer l’entente entre la France et
l’Angleterre, il concerne les négociations diplomatiques sur le sort de prisonniers de
guerre autour de 1809-1810. Si la France et l’Angleterre ont été en guerre entre
1803 et 1815 les relations diplomatiques n’ont pas pour autant été interrompues
pendant cette période. On a beaucoup échangé sur le sort des prisonniers de
guerre, en particulier autour des années 1809 et 1810 et des négociations ont été
entamées à Morlaix. De chaque côté les négociateurs sont du même avis sur le
principe de la libération de leurs prisonniers respectifs. En revanche dans les
détails les Anglais font valoir qu’ils détiennent 70.000 prisonniers français alors
que les Français quant à eux détiennent 17.000 prisonniers anglais. La Grande-
Bretagne veut s’accorder sur l’idée d’un échange d’homme pour un homme et ainsi
conserver 53.000 prisonniers. Napoléon ne peut accepter cet accord. Il objecte un
autre calcul : ce denier détient 70.000 prisonniers de l’Espagne, alliée de
l’Angleterre, et 17.000 Hanovriens qui ont été fait prisonniers au moment de la
conquête du Hanovre en 1803. Les deux pays campent sur leur position et les
prisonniers resteront en captivité jusqu’en 1814. Il faudra attendre la fin de la
29
période napoléonienne, l’abdication de Napoléon, la décision du gouvernement
provisoire de Talleyrand et surtout du lieutenant général du royaume de libérer
enfin les prisonniers anglais en échange des prisonniers français à la fin du mois
d’avril 1814.
Philip Mansel – Wellington and Louis XVIII
(Notes produced by Stewart McCain)
In his paper, Philip Mansel, the distinguished historian of Restoration French court
society reflected on the entangled trajectories of two of the period’s most prominent
figures, the Duke of Wellington and Louis XVIII. As one would expect, the
interactions between the King of France and a man who became not only the most
famous allied general of the Napoleonic wars, but Britain’s first ambassador to
France after 1814, reveal much about the political history of France. More than
this, however, Wellington’s time in France provides a fascinating case study of the
minutiae of Franco-British, and particularly British-Parisian, interactions during a
period in which the relationship between the two countries was undergoing a
profound transformation. Franco-British rivalries of the eighteenth century were
characterized by a fierce military and colonial competition that erupted into open
warfare with the Seven Years’ War and the War of American Independence.
Wellington’s victory over Napoleon, therefore, marked a turning point in the
relationship between the two countries. The opportunity presented to France to
rival Britain as a global power receded, and military rivalry was replaced by a
sometimes uneasy alliance.
Dr Mansel opened his paper by reminding the audience that the experiences and
identities of eighteenth century elites were rarely constrained by national
boundaries. Wellington spent some years of his youth in France, at the Royal
Cavalry School in Angers, where he developed both a sound knowledge of the
French language and a political allegiance to Bourbon legitimism studying under
an unabashed partisan of the old regime named Marcel de Pignerolle. Wellington’s
support for Bourbon legitimism was greatly intensified by the violence of the
Revolution, and it is his Royalism, as much as his Francophilia, that provides the
key to his relationship with Louis XVIII. For his part, the Bourbon King harboured
a similar affection for the British, having lodged his court in exile at Hartwell in
Buckinghamshire with the support of the Prince Regent.
Wellington, therefore, was eager to see the Bourbon monarchy restored, and in
October 1813 when his troops crossed from the Iberian Peninsula over the
Pyrenees and into France he sought royal participation in the military campaign,
writing to contacts at the French court in Hartwell hoping to persuade a member of
the royal family to travel to the south-west of France. Wellington’s efforts stemmed
only in part from his Royalism. He also sought to exploit the popular anti-
Bonapartist sentiment he claimed had been aroused by decades of conscription
and heavy taxation.
30
A similar rationale had lain behind Louis XVIII’s March 1813 declaration of
Hartwell, written after consulting Castlereagh, which had sought to appeal to this
hatred while promising amnesties and compensation for those who bought biens
nationaux in an effort to win over those who had gained by the Revolution and
Empire.
However detested was the Empire in parts of France by late 1813, Wellington
exaggerated the scale of popular Royalism in his correspondence with England,
presumably because only popular Royalism could justify his desire to involve the
Bourbons in his military campaign. Nonetheless, his wish was granted, and the
king’s elder nephew, the Duc d’Angoulême, arrived in the south west of France in
February 1814. Although Wellington remained officially neutral in French internal
affairs, he quickly involved Angoulême in his military plans. When Bordeaux
opened its gates to British and Portuguese troops on the 12th March 1814, the
Bourbon Prince entered the city cheered on by crowds, his triumphant passage
aided by the British soldiers and money that preceded him.
Angoulême’s successful entrance into Bordeaux was instrumental in the
restoration of the Bourbon monarchy in April 1814. Louis XVIII returned from
England committed to a closer alliance and understanding between the two
nations, and Paris experienced a brief Franco-British honeymoon on his
installation in the capital. Talleyrand and Louis continued to view British and
French interests as virtually identical, and Wellington was even cheered by the
audience at the Opera on his return to Paris in May.
However, Wellington’s experience as British Ambassador to France was markedly
different. As Mansel observes, his appointment in August 1814 was a disaster.
Following victory over France, British tourists flocked to the French capital, where
they engaged in a feast of conspicuous consumption that antagonised Parisians.
Having played such a prominent role in fighting the French over the preceding
decade, Wellington’s appointment as ambassador did little to smooth tensions, and
the error was compounded by the Duke’s own behaviour. He quickly came to be
viewed as impolite, stirring resentment by introducing crowds of British tourists to
Louis XVIII during his weekly audiences at the Tuileries, and attracted derision for
his clothes. He failed to compensate farmers for damage caused to their crops by
his hunting parties, and carried on an affair with the singer Giuseppina Grassini,
scandalising opinion through the mistreatment of his wife.
The manners of Wellington and the British in Paris helped to discredit the restored
Bourbons, who needed little help alienating the French population through their
favourable treatment of the returning émigrés, contributing to the rising nationalist
sentiment exploited by Napoleon during the Hundred Days. Wellington, however
continued to support the Bourbons throughout this period, remaining in contact
with Louis XVIII, who had fled to Ghent. Unlike other European statesmen of the
period, Wellington never considered the Duc d’Orléans, let alone Napoleon’s son, as
an alternative to Louis XVIII.
31
However, Wellington’s committed Royalism was laced with pragmatism. He hoped
that, as with Angoulême in Bordeaux in 1814, the Bourbons could help undermine
support for Napoleon.
It was fortunate for Louis XVIII that it was Wellington rather than one of the other
allied generals who crushed Napoleon on the battlefield in 1815. Wellington invited
the King to follow him back into France, an offer accepted eagerly by Louis XVIII,
but one which would later damage the Bourbons through their association with
foreign invaders. In 1815, however, his relationship with the French King proved
mutually beneficial, with the King’s presence weakening the resolve of French
citadels to resist the allied advance.
Wellington commanded the allied occupation of Paris in the summer of 1815. This
was a delicate posting- Paris in 1815 was a powder keg surrounded by 200,000
allied troops, and Wellington had already earned a degree of unpopularity in the
French capital. The Duke, however, strove to avoid the more serious consequences
such a situation might engender. Armies during the period, particularly occupying
armies, tended to live off the land, requisitioning or simply seizing the supplies they
needed. While the Prussians achieved a reputation as brigands thanks to their
exactions, Wellington had the British pay for whatever they took, earning them a
reputation as relatively benevolent occupiers. Such a conciliatory approach could
not hold in all circumstances. One part of Wellington’s role was to empty the
Louvre of the many works of art plundered by the French armies during the
Napoleonic wars. This restitution was a sensitive issue, and Wellington was forced
to send the Rifle Brigade into the Louvre to supervise the removal of the works, a
move that earned him a hostile reception at the Opera.
Despite such tensions, Wellington was treated as a trusted advisor by Louis XVIII,
and exercised a great deal of influence on French internal affairs. He was informed
ahead of major and potentially sensitive actions of the French government, notably
the reorganisation of the French army and the dissolution of the Chamber of
Deputies- the famous chambre introuvable, which was dominated by ultra-royalists
and refused to accept any of the innovations of the Revolutionary period- in 1816.
Wellington’s influence on French internal politics continued even after January
1816, when he was appointed commander of the occupying forces in North-
Western France. He held two splendid balls to celebrate the marriage of the Duc de
Berri, and offered his support to the Prime Minister the Duc de Richelieu.
Wellington was also a perceptive critic of the Comte d’Artois, the future Charles X
of France He described him as the Bourbon James II, a comparison that proved
prophetic during Charles’ disastrous reign, which ended with his overthrow in the
revolution of July 1830.
32
Wellington’s political involvement with France ended in 1818, when he played a
pivotal role in negotiating the withdrawal of allied occupational forces from France
at the Congress of Aix-la-Chapelle. He left the country having profoundly shaped its
military and political destiny, and with an impressive collection of French art. Louis
XVIII bestowed lavish gifts on Wellington, a legendary Sèvres Egyptian dinner
service, diamonds from the French crown jewels worth £30,000 and a set of medals
in platinum, gold, silver and bronze commemorating the reign of Louis XVIII.
Some of these items can still be viewed in London in Apsley House. Wellington’s
time in France, his roles as a general, a politician and a collector, made him almost
the prototype of those British men and women who exercised such influence on the
economic and cultural life of Paris during the nineteenth century. Figures such as
Thackery, Mrs Trollope and the great dressmaker Charles Worth, and institutions
like the Revue Britannique, the Café Anglais, the Librairie Galignani, the Jockey
Club and the Cercle de l’Union all made Britain influential across the channel. In
this respect, Wellington’s time in France marked the opening of a period of intense
Franco-British exchange based above all on movement between the two capitals.
The apogee of this process came in 1914-18, when Paris once again played host to
British troops. The intensity of these exchanges was reflected in the title of J.F.
Macdonald’s 1917 book, Paris and London: Two Towns, One City.
Emmanuel de Waresquiel – Une Ouverture de Napoléon vers l’Europe:
une Stratégie du Désespoir / Napoleon and Europe, 1815: a Strategy of
Despair
(Notes produced by Marion Narran)
En apprenant le débarquement de Napoléon au golfe Juan, son extraordinaire
traversée de la France en vingt jours à la tête d’une poignée de grognards de l’île
d’Elbe, son entrée quasi miraculeuse dans Paris abandonné la veille au soir par les
Bourbons, Madame de Staël aurait eu ces mots à l’intention de l’un de ses amis :
« J’avais voulu écrire la vie de Napoléon, mais maintenant j’écrirai les aventures de
Bonaparte ».
Les raisons qui déterminèrent Napoléon à quitter l’île Elbe sont multiples. La
principale d’entre elles tient à l’analyse qu’il fait de la situation intérieure française
plus que de la situation extérieure, même si la position des puissances à Vienne ne
lui est pas indifférente. Pour Napoléon il n’est pas question de paix mais de la
reconquête de la France. En quittant Elbe, le maintien de la paix européenne n’est
donc pas pour lui la condition première de son retour. Il sait pourtant au même
moment, et de façon parfaitement contradictoire, qu’en se présentant à la nation
comme l’homme de la paix, qu’en arguant des complicités européennes, en
particulier autrichiennes, à son retour, il n’en sera que plus légitime. La guerre
avait été l’une des causes de l’effondrement de l’Empire comme de son abdication.
33
Il veut désormais renouer avec une paix qu’il n’a pas faite jusqu’à chercher à
s’emparer pour son propre compte du traité de Paris du 30 mai 1814 qu’il n’a pas
signé. La paix devient alors une arme à la fois tactique, psychologique et politique
indispensable à son retour et la reconnaissance de sa souveraineté par les
puissances et la paix ne sont qu’une seule et même chose. Il tente une série de
manœuvres de séduction auprès des puissances.
Dans la plupart de ses allocutions aux autorités des villes qu’il traverse, il est
toujours question, à demi-mot, du consentement tacite de l’Autriche et de
l’Angleterre à son retour. Ces intrigues destinées à se ménager le soutien des
puissances échoueront et Napoléon en est alors réduit à rendre publiques ses
tentatives de rapprochements.
L’opinion demeure hésitante sur les intentions des Alliés, tandis qu’en Europe on
pense qu’il se serait préférable de laisser Napoléon s’enliser à Paris dans une
situation de plus en plus incertaine et délétère. Les Alliés entrevoient les dangers
d’une guerre qu’ils prédisent longue et coûteuse et le 25 mars les quatre grandes
puissances alliées renouvellent officiellement les termes du traité d’alliance
offensive et défensive contre Napoléon qu’ils avaient signés l’année précédente à
Chaumont le 1er mars 1814, rejoint deux jours plus tard par le roi de France.
Réinstallé au pouvoir, Napoléon déploie toute sa diplomatie pour temporiser, se
ménager l’opinion publique française et européenne, développer une argumentation
en faveur de la paix, comme si la validité des droits de Napoléon était liée à cette
dernière. C’est sur cette base qu’il demande l’exécution du traité de paix du 30 mai
1814. Les questions intérieures et extérieures demeurent étroitement liées, ce qui
l’a probablement poussé à accepter les principes d’une constitution libérale, en
rupture avec les constitutions antérieures du Consulat et de l’Empire : puisque
Napoléon cherche désormais à vivre en paix avec l’Europe, il peut logiquement
s’atteler à « l’affermissement de la liberté publique », au renforcement du « système
représentatif ». Mais la « realpolitik » n’est jamais loin et dès la fin mars, il se
prépare à la guerre, annoncée à l’opinion le 14 avril.
Napoléon a-t-il sincèrement cherché à éviter la guerre où s’agissait-il d’une simple
manœuvre de circonstance, dictée par la nécessité ? D’aucun penseront par la
suite que tôt ou tard, aurait-il arraché une paix armée à l’Europe affolée, son
tempérament aurait repris le dessus. « J’ai besoin d’un coup d’éclat », dira-t-il à
Carnot dans les premiers jours de juin avant de s’ensevelir dans les plaines de
Belgique. Au fond, la question de la sincérité de Napoléon ne se pose même plus en
avril 1815, pas plus que celle de la raison. L’Europe n’était pas en état de
s’interroger sur l’une comme de soutenir l’autre. C’est la panique, c’est la peur, ce
sont les humiliations accumulées, c’est l’esprit de vengeance, qui conduiront
l’Europe des monarchies à la victoire de Waterloo. Tout cela ne relève ni de la
logique ni de l’observation, mais d’un besoin irrépressible de se rassurer et de
respirer enfin dans un monde qui décidément n’aura jamais été vraiment celui de
Napoléon.
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Questions and Answers/ Débat
(Notes produced by Marion Narran and Stewart McCain)
On the Roots of the Unpopularity of the Restored Bourbon Monarchy
In 1814, the Bourbons enjoyed a degree of popularity upon their return to France.
The Declaration of Saint-Ouen of May 1814 may have seen the Comte d’Artois
reject, in the name of Louis XVIII, the provisional constitution drawn up by the
French Senate. However, the Constitutional Charter of 1814, which formed the
basis of the restored Bourbon monarchy, obtained broad support even as it
disappointed reactionaries by leaving many features of the Revolutionary and
Napoleonic regime in place.
Divisions were greatly exacerbated in the wake of the Hundred Days, and especially
the controversial execution of Marshal Ney, one of the most prominent and
successful generals of the Revolutionary and Napoleonic period. Ney had rallied to
Napoleon, and many Royalists, perhaps including the Duke of Wellington, who
remained influential in French politics during the period, felt a message had to be
sent. It was felt in such circles that important figures in Napoleon’s regime had
been treated leniently in 1814, after Napoleon’s first abdication, and yet had turned
from the Bourbons on Napoleon’s return from Elba in 1815. Nonetheless, the
execution of Ney, a figure considered a war hero by many, after the battle of
Waterloo soured public opinion and dented the authority of the restored Bourbon
monarchy.
On the Commemoration of 1814
Efforts to commemorate the Napoleonic wars, this colloque included, provide
tangible demonstrations of the changing relationship between Britain and France.
The Fall of Napoleon marked the end of a century of Franco-British rivalry. In
1814, the Norman Cross depot in Cambridgeshire, the world’s first Prisoner of War
camp, was closed. The French troops, many of whom had been languishing in the
prison for a decade or more, were sent home. One-hundred years later, and in the
spirit of the Entente Cordiale signed in 1904, a bronze eagle was erected on the site
of the camp to commemorate the prisoners - especially those who did not return
home - and the experiences of the French soldiers who had served Napoleon. This
was deemed an appropriate way of marking the new cross-channel alliance.
Le Danger Napoléon
Jacques Alain de Sebouy interroge les orateurs sur le moment du départ de
Napoléon de l’île d’Elbe. Il se demande si des discussions au Congrès de Vienne
n’ont pas eu lieu pour prévenir le danger et envisager de l’envoyer ailleurs, plus loin
des côtes françaises.
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Pierre Branda répond qu’effectivement il y a eu des échanges entre Talleyrand et
Louis XVIIII au sujet de Napoléon avec l’idée de l’envoyer loin des côtes
européennes. Si l’ Empereur déchu n’avait pas mille hommes avec lui sur Elbe, les
souverains européens craignaient une éventuelle alliance avec Murat, qui lui
disposait d’une grande armée. Des projets de déportation lointaine étaient donc
déjà évoqués.
Le Retour de Napoléon
Robert Tombs s’adresse à Emmanuel de Waresquiel et s’interroge sur le retour de
Napoléon de l’île d’Elbe. Napoléon revenant d’Elbe prévoyait-il une guerre longue ou
un coup d’éclat rapide ? Napoléon affirme en effet qu’il craint et qu’il s’attend à une
« guerre longue » pour son retour, avant d’affirmer dans un autre discours qu’il
recherche un « coup d’éclat ». Ces termes paraissent contradictoires.
Napoléon a-t-il une idée claire de ce qui l’attendait pour son retour ou envisage-t-il
de mener son retour par une série d’expédients ? Emmanuel de Waresquiel répond
que ces deux citations ne sont pas incompatibles dans la mesure où elles ne
s’excluent pas. Il avait ces deux idées en tête au moment du départ. Thierry Lenz
ajoute que l’on se demande souvent pourquoi Napoléon a attaqué le premier alors
qu’il n’était vraisemblablement pas prêt à le faire. Les historiens pensent qu’il
raisonne comme un homme assiégé et attaque les troupes dont le nombre est
numériquement proche de ses propres forces. En cela réside le coup d’éclat de
Napoléon. Jacques-Olivier Boudon ajoute également que Napoléon ne disposait que
d’un petit effectif car il avait déjà mobilisé beaucoup de soldats pour ses
précédentes campagnes et il n’avait donc pas pu reconstituer une armée puissante.
Closing Remarks
Alan Forrest
(Notes prepared by Graham Callister)
The colloquium has been very rich and varied and so these remarks will represent
but a few reflections on the conversations that have taken place across a large
number of topics and themes.
Firstly, it is worth considering the mood of France and Europe in 1814. It is clear
that what was taking place here in Paris in 1814 as a seminal moment in European
history. There had been nearly a quarter of a century of warfare. The first French
soldiers who fought in the Revolutionary Wars had volunteered in 1791, and some
of them would have had sons who were conscripted as ‘Marie-Louises’ in 1813-14.
The events of 1814 were greeted with huge relief by a continent exhausted by war.
The letters of soldiers and their officers in the last years of the war show that they
are generally more concerned with peace than with victory. Where they did demand
victory, it was only because they believed that this was the most likely route by
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which peace could be obtained. Europe was tired of war, and this made
compromise more likely.
There is also the question of Napoleon’s own standing in 1814. He had been a great
general, of course, but he hadn’t led his country to a great victory for a number of
years. 1812, 1813, and 1814 were all ultimately unsuccessful years militarily. In
1814 just outside Paris even his marshals refused to fight another campaign. But
was Napoleon still the man to hold France together? Was he still seen as the only
man who could bring stability to the country and therefore give Europe a chance at
peace, as even his enemies had long believed? The Treaty of Chaumont showed that
the Allies had turned against him. It was now believed that peace could not be
agreed with Napoleon. There was a widespread desire to defeat Napoleon and to
drive him from office, but in 1814 the Allies drew a clear distinction between
Napoleon and France. They wanted, to borrow a modern phrase, to enact ‘regime
change’ rather than to punish the whole country. And, as we know from recent
experiences, regime change can be dangerous and unpopular.
This brings us to Napoleon’s legacy. It is clear in 1814 that France was united in
wanting peace, but a striking feature of the French polity in the nineteenth century
is how fractured and divided it remained. Louis XVIII may have seemed the least
divisive solution in 1814, but he was divisive nonetheless. Many who had
supported, fought for, or benefited from the Revolution were reluctant to return to
monarchy, even if that monarchy was constitutional. Many former Napoleonic
soldiers felt badly treated after 1814 and 1815, especially when they saw veterans
of pro-royalist campaigns in the Vendée being rewarded, while men who fought for
France for years in Napoleon’s armies were being neglected. This helps to explain
both the continuing opposition to the Bourbons and the growing nostalgia for
Napoleon; popular nostalgia, but, more markedly, nostalgia in the army. And this
army of Napoleon’s cast a shadow across almost the whole nineteenth century.
In 1857 when Napoleon III ordered a medal to be given to all of the survivors of the
Napoleonic Wars, the prefects established that there were somewhere in the region
of 400,000 still surviving.
The last Napoleonic veterans died only in the 1890s! The whole of the nineteenth
century was in some way shaped, or even scarred, by the memory of the Napoleonic
wars.
A lot of what has been said today is about the diplomacy of the period, and this is
not just about France. As John Bew made clear, all of the powers had their own
interests to pursue. It has been made clear that in these wars the various
participants had quite different war aims and demands, so that peace negotiations
had to be carried out in a spirit of compromise. There remained problems between
the powers; Russia and Prussia both wanted to expand at the expense of their
neighbours in Eastern Europe, while Britain wanted to defend her maritime
interests and colonial conquests. Indeed, for Britain these wars were the
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culmination of a long series of conflicts that had not just been about the fate of the
continent, but in large measure about colonies and trade.
Yet peace was made, and that it was maintained so well in the nineteenth century
is much to the credit of the diplomats at Paris and Vienna. There were regional
conflicts after 1815 – such as in Spain and Greece – and there were colonial
confrontations, but there were no general European wars. This is in part down to
the skill of the negotiators in 1814-15. Crimea is perhaps the first war fought over
the idea of the balance of power, though others would put it as late as World War
One.
Just as peace persisted through the nineteenth century, so did the reputation of
Napoleon. Even in Britain sympathy for Napoleon endures. Once Napoleon had
stopped threatening Britain, once he was safely on St Helena, people began to show
a certain affection for him. The caricatures we spoke about show a change in
attitudes. While he is their enemy they look on him with fear and disdain, but once
he is defeated he becomes an object of sympathy, even of admiration. People like
Walter Scott wrote biographies of Napoleon, and his memory remained alive in
nineteenth-century Britain, even eclipsing that of Wellington. An interesting piece
of evidence demonstrating this came to light in a study of birth records in East
Anglia in the 1820s, when it was discovered that a small number of boys were
christened Waterloo; a slightly larger number were called Wellington; but that a
larger number still were given the name Napoleon.
We have talked mostly about Europe, but we have seen today that there were global
ramifications to the struggle against Napoleon. The Napoleonic Wars were not just
against Napoleon, and not just fought in Europe. There was, for instance, a British
war against the United States in 1812. In the Caribbean, there was a war which led
to the creation of the first black republic in Haiti. Russia became incontestably a
power in Europe, while, as Thierry Lentz pointed out, France lost what was perhaps
her last chance to become a truly global power. The wars also set the scene for
Britain to become the global power of the nineteenth century.
But we can also consider the impact of the wars on things such as the slave trade,
as the British tried to impose abolition in peace treaties and at the Congress of
Vienna. Why did they do this?
Were they primarily concerned to stop their competitors profiting from the trade, or
were they driven by the abolitionists’ brand of Protestant morality? We need to be
careful less we make exaggerated claims, for slavery was not abandoned, even by
Britain, and it was only the trade in slaves that was abolished. Also, Spain and
Portugal refused to agree to abolition and continued trading well into the second
half of the nineteenth century. Nonetheless, it is clear that the wars and the peace
that followed had wider global ramifications.
There has been a focus today on Napoleon and Wellington. Andrew Roberts
mentioned that their relationship, such as it was, was one of mutual respect. This
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is not always appreciated, and is perhaps only becoming more obvious with the
publication of Napoleon’s correspondence by the Fondation Napoléon. It has also
been shown that they were both quite generous in their views of one another, and
each commented favourably on the other’s talents. This has allowed us to look
differently at both men, and to re-assess their characters more positively. Napoleon
was of course always hugely concerned with his own image, with his place in
history, and with how he was perceived; he might see this re-evaluation as a minor
success in that process.
To conclude, this colloque has allowed us not only to discuss the subject of the
day, but to establish a dialogue between French and British historians on a
moment where the two countries’ histories interlocked, and when they prepared to
be partners in peace. 1814 ended centuries of Anglo-French warfare. From this
time on began a period of peace, collaboration and cooperation; not always easy,
but enduring nonetheless.
Today is not a celebration of war, nor of victory, but an assessment of a moment
when countries learn to live together in peace. Recent bicentennials of Napoleon’s
victories in France have largely avoided triumphalism and great spectacular
celebrations of military victories; it would be perhaps advisable if Britain were to
follow this lead next year with the anniversary at Waterloo. Anglo-French dialogue
today, as over the past two centuries, has been very fruitful, and most of us here
today feel very strongly that as Europeans we want this to continue.
Sir Peter Ricketts
The idea of this colloque was that 1814 was a special moment in the Anglo-French
relationship, and today has recognised that spirit.
Thanks to the chairs, speakers, participants, and to Jenny Humphreys and the
FCO historians for organising the event.
Hopefully in a small way this colloque has added to the cooperation that has
endured since 1814.
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