Napoleon and Wellington in War and Peace

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


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


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


Andrew Roberts: Wellington et Napoléon

Peter Hicks: Napoléon et les Britanniques


15.10 Pause

15.50 Séance III: De Nouvelles Relations après Waterloo

Présidence (5 minutes)



Philip Mansel: Wellington et Louis XVIII

Emmanuel de Waresquiel: une Ouverture de Napoléon vers l'Europe : une

stratégie du Désespoir


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).


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.

http://www.andrew-roberts.net/

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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.

http://www.philipmansel.com/

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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


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


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


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


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


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


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.

34

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.

35

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

36

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

37

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

38

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.

Napoleon and Wellington in War and Peace

Documents

guerre et

britanniques et

lun et

bicentenary colloque

peace napolon et wellington

colloque sinscrit aussi

ce colloque mest venue

lide dun colloque