CHAPTER V.

FRANCE UNDER THE EMPIRE

 

The organic Senatus Consultum of 28 Floréal, year XII (May 18, 1804), generally known as the Constitution of the year XII, ordained that “the Imperial Succession should thenceforth be vested in the direct issue of Napoleon Bonaparte, natural and legitimate, descending always in the male line, by order of primogeniture, to the perpetual exclusion of females and heirs claiming through female descent”. In default of male heirs, Napoleon was empowered to adopt his brother’s children or grandchildren; in default of either legitimate or adoptive male heirs, the succession was to pass, first, to his eldest brother, Joseph, and his descendants; then to his younger brother, Louis, and his descendants. The Emperor had two other brothers, Lucien and Jerome. But, in spite of Napoleon’s opposition, Lucien had recently married beneath him; and the breach between the two brothers lasted until the end of the Empire. Jerome went into the navy, and, on his return home from the Antilles by way of the United States, had married Miss Eliza Paterson (1803) without his brother’s consent. To obtain his restoration to favour (March 2, 1805) and recover his rights to the Imperial succession (September 24, 1805), he was forced to abandon his wife and the son she had borne him; and, for the time being, he was shut out from the Imperial family.

On March 7, 1796, just before his departure for Italy, Napoleon had entered into a civil marriage with Josephine Tascher de la Pagerie. Born at Martinique on June 23, 1763, she was, at the time of her marriage to Napoleon, the widow of General de Beauharnais. By her first marriage she had two children, Eugene and Hortense, the latter of whom married Louis Bonaparte in 1802; her second marriage was without issue. When Pope Pius VII came to France in 1804 for the ceremony of the unction he refused his blessing to a couple who had only been through a civil marriage. Consequently, on the night of Dec. 1, in the utmost secrecy, the religious marriage was performed by Cardinal Fesch, in the presence of only two witnesses, Talleyrand and Berthier. On the following day (Dec. 2) the ceremony of the unction was celebrated at Notre Dame with great pomp. The occasion was remarkable rather for splendour than for popular enthusiasm. The Emperor crowned himself, afterwards placing the crown on the Empress’s head.

The distance travelled since 18 Brumaire was great indeed! But, as a matter of fact, the Constitution of the year XII added nothing to Napoleon’s power: the Consulate for Life had already given him every­thing. Even the Republic was not nominally suppressed. “The govern­ment of the Republic”, so runs the first clause, “is vested in the Emperor, who will assume the title of Emperor of the French”. This was of course a contradiction in terms. Napoleon met the difficulty by gradually and patiently suppressing the word “Republic” wherever it cropped up. “The first representative of the nation”, he wrote in the Moniteur of December 15, 1808, “is the Emperor; for all authority is derived from God and the nation... If there existed in our Constitution a body repre­sentative of the nation, that body would be supreme; no other institution could compare with it; its will would be all-paramount. But to put the nation itself before the Emperor would be at once chimerical mid criminal”. All authority, therefore, was vested in the Emperor, since, by the will of God, he was the sole representative of the Sovereign People.

“In the order determined by our Constitution”, continued Napoleon, “the Senate conics next to the Emperor in representative authority”. The Constitution of the year XII rendered the Senate still more subservient than it had been in 1802. Senators were nominated by the Emperor, and were no longer limited in number. The French Princes and the Grand Dignitaries were members of the Senate ex officio. The president was appointed by the Emperor and drawn from the senatorial ranks. The Senate was thus, more than ever before, dependent upon Napoleon. On the other band, from this time forward, it Appointed two permanent bodies, known as “Senatorial Commissions”, charged respect­ively with the maintenance of “individual liberty” and the “liberty of the press”. Bills passed by the Legislative Body were sent before the Senate, which, “by expressing the opinion that it saw no occasion for promulgating the measure in question,” could exercise a certain right of veto. Such were the new rights conferred upon the Senate; and, as senators were appointed for life, they seemed to be favourably situated for the full exercise of their powers.

The Commission for the protection of individual liberty displayed, it is true, certain hankerings after activity. But it could do nothing of any real importance in the face of arbitrary arrests and imprisonments for reasons of State; and, in his decree of March 3, 1810, regarding state prisons, the Emperor did not shrink from reviving mid regularising, in some degree, the old system of bastilles and lettres de cachet. The Commission charged with protecting the liberty of the press was not intended to concern itself with newspapers or periodicals; and the powers conferred by the decree of February 5, 1810, upon the “General Board for the control of Printing and Publishing” deprived the Commission of almost all power of intervention. The right of veto could be exercised only with the Emperor’s consent. In a word, the rights conferred upon the Senate remained a dead letter. So it came about that the senators gradually ceased to discuss anything, even the drafting of Senatus Consulta; and, when the Government sent them a bill to pass, the terms of which were already decided, it became their practice in the most important eases to express their gratitude for the communication which had been vouchsafed to them; and that in terms of grovelling servility.

By the Constitution of the year XII the Tribunate was divided into three sections, dealing respectively with legislation, home affairs, and finance. These sections deliberated separately, either by themselves or with the corresponding sections of the Council of State. The Tribunate thus became nothing but a useless duplication of the Council of State. The Legislative Body was recruited more and more from among officials and ex-officials; and, in accordance with the Constitution of the year VIII, its voice was never heard. By the Senatus Consultum of August 19,1807, three commissions, of seven members each, were established within the Legislative Body itself, whose business was to discuss legislative proposals, and to defend or oppose them before the whole body in full session. These commissions were intended to take the place of the sections of the Tribunate. The Tribunes, as their powers successively expired, were, some of them, provisionally regarded as belonging to the Legislative Body; the rest received for the most part public appointments, chiefly at the Cour des Comptes, established on September 16, 1807. So vanished the Tribunate. Only two Chambers remained; the Senate and the Legislative Body. But even the imaginary power enjoyed by them loomed too large to the despotic eye of the Emperor; and he almost entirely abandoned the practice of making “laws.” He governed by means of Senatus Consulta, which he sent straight to the Senate for ratification, or by decrees drawn up for him by the Council of State.

By the Constitution of the year XII the French Princes and Grand Dignitaries received seats in the Council of State. Their sittings were presided over either by the Emperor in person, or by a Grand Dignitary, usually either the Arch-Chancellor or the Arch-Treasurer, who acted as his deputy. The importance of the Council of State was no less under the Empire than under the Consulate. The number of questions discussed in full session rose from 3,756 in 1805 to 6,285 in 1811. The honorary title of “Councillor of State” was conferred in certain cases.

The second generation of Napoleon’s officials (i.e. from about 1807 onwards, and especially from 1810-11) was by no means equal to the first. The new officials were sometimes very young men, endowed with a certain pride and self-confidence which gave them the air of experience. They were drawn more and more from old aristocratic families or the upper bourgeoisie, who had suffered under the Revolution and hated it accordingly. Though selected with less care than before, owing to the scarcity of men and the ever-increasing extent of territory to be administered by a master who mistook obedience for devotion, and fondly imagined that in bestowing his favour he could also ensure merit, these men undoubtedly showed themselves capable of much hard work; but they fell far short of the distinguished body which, under the Consulate, had reflected so much credit on Napoleon.

The great work of administrative creation was now complete. Fouché, as a reward for his services in establishing the Empire, again received the Ministry of Police (July 10, 1804). Two new ministries were created: that of Public Worship (July 10,1804), and that of Trade and Manufactures (June 22, 1811). The honorary title of Minister of State was sometimes granted to high officials, ministers, diplomatists, and presidents of sections in the Council of State.

While the legislative machine was being simplified out of existence and the administrative system suffered no marked change, a new and complicated hierarchy, with numerous grades, was being elaborated. It was the only constitutional innovation which owed its origin to the Empire, and it did not survive its author.

The reader will have noticed the appearance, in the ranks of the bureaucracy, of certain honorary titles, such as Councillor of State and Minister of State. The Legion of Honour had also created certain honorary distinctions. The decree of 24 Messidor, year XII (July 13, 1804), which, for want of something better, is still occasionally invoked in France, laid down an order of precedence for dignitaries and officials, administrative, legal, ecclesiastical, and military, in the conduct of public ceremonies. There was a hierarchy even for localities; and the mayors of 36 towns mentioned in the decree of June 22, 1804, were singled out for the enjoyment of certain special privileges. The list of bonnes villes was subsequently enlarged, as fresh territories were added to the Empire.

Besides all this, the Constitution of the year XII created two new honorary hierarchies. After the French Princes, that is, “the members of the Imperial Family in the order of heredity,” it instituted, by a quaint combination of the great offices of the Holy Roman Empire with those of the old French monarchy, six Grand Imperial Dignities, viz. the Grand Elector (Joseph Bonaparte), the Arch-Chancellor of the Empire (Cambacérès), the Arch-Chancellor of State (Eugene de Beauharnais), the Arch-Treasurer (Lebrun), the Constable (Louis Bonaparte), and the Grand Admiral (Murat). Subsequently, by the decree of August 9, 1807, Talleyrand was appointed Vice-Grand Elector, and Berthier Vice-Constable; and the Senatus Consultum of February 2, 1808, raised to the rank of a Grand Dignity the Governor-Generalship of the Departments beyond the Alps, a post held by Borghese, husband of Pauline Bonaparte.

After the Grand Dignitaries came the military Grand Officers of the Empire. By the terms of the Constitution of the year XII, these were to consist, first, of Marshals of the Empire, chosen from amongst the most distinguished generals. They were not to exceed sixteen in number, exclusive of the generals having seats in the Senate, upon whom also the title of Marshal of the Empire might be bestowed. Napoleon shortly afterwards selected four military senators, and fourteen other generals for this honour. Eight others were subsequently added. After the Marshals came the Inspectors and the Colonel-Generals, who originally numbered eight. Lastly, the great civil functionaries of the Crown, viz. the Grand Almoner (Fesch), the Grand Marshal of the Palace (Duroc), the Grand Chamberlain (Talleyrand), the Grand Master of the Horse (Caulaincourt), the Grand Huntsman (Berthier), and the Grand Master of the Ceremonies (Ségur), performed the various court duties connected with the Imperial household, followed by a long train of subordinates—prefects of the palace, chamberlains, equerries, aides-de-camp, pages, and others.

Nor was this all. By a series of decrees, dated March 30, 180G, which the Senate was obliged to register on the following day, Napoleon created yet another hierarchy. Joseph Bonaparte was proclaimed King of Naples and Sicily; the principality of Guastalla was given to Pauline Bonaparte in full ownership and sovereignty; the duchies of Cleves and Berg were bestowed upon Murat, the principality of Neuchatel upon Berthier. Besides these, the Emperor reserved to himself in Italy, certain ducal “grand-fiefs” (title-bearing domains and territorial revenues) the hereditary ownership of which he bestowed when and where he thought fit. These were the three duchies, of Parma (granted to Cambacérès), Piacenza (to Lebrun), and Massa (to Regnier); and, among the erstwhile Venetian States, now incorporated in the kingdom of Italy, the twelve duchies : of Dalmatia, granted to Soult; Istria, to Bessières ; Friuli, to Duroc; Cadore, to Champagny; Belluna, to Vietor; Conegliano, to Moncey; Treviso, to Mortier; Feltre, to Clarke; Bassano, to Maret; Vicenza, to Caulaincourt; Padua, to Arrighi; and Rovigo, to Savary. In the kingdom of Naples, the principalities of Benevento (with the title of Prince and Duke) and of Ponte-Corvo were granted to Talleyrand and Bernadotte respectively; while the duchy of Reggio was given to Oudinot, that of Taranto to Macdonald, of Gaeta to Gaudin, and of Otranto to Fouché. Suchet was made Duke of Albufera, in Spain.

A new nobility was in the making, but it was at first located outside France. Napoleon had his own plan, which he patiently pursued. A Senatus Consultum, dated August 14, 1806, authorised Pauline to cede Guastalla to the kingdom of Italy, and to buy, with the proceeds of this transaction, estates within the territory of the French Empire. The other ducal grand-fiefs might eventually be exchanged in the same way. The privileges attaching to noble tenure were to be transferred to the estates thus acquired by exchange; and this right was to go with “the grant of any further duchies or other titles which the Emperor might create in future”. A further step was taken when, during the Polish campaign of 1807, Napoleon ordered Lefebvre to lay siege to Danzig. It was with set purpose that he selected the Marshal-Senator for this command. Lefebvre was an old campaigner, quite incapable of conducting a difficult operation, but he was a veteran of the Republican armies, very brave, very popular, and above all very plebeian. When the place capitulated, Lefebvre was made Duke of Danzig: the grant accompanying the new title was to be composed of lands situated within the territories of the Empire.

A precedent had thus been created, to which the decree of March 1, 1808, gave the fullest application. The Grand Dignitaries were to bear the title of Prince, and their eldest sons that of Duke; Ministers, senators, life-members of the Council of State, presidents of the Legislative Body, and archbishops, that of Count; presidents of the electoral colleges, the first presidents and procurators-general of the courts of justice, bishops, and mayors of bonnes villes, that of Baron; members of the Legion of Honour, that of Knight (Chevalier). These titles were to be hereditary, provided they were endowed with property bringing in an annual income of not less than 200,000 frs. in the case of Princes; 30,000 frs. in that of Counts; 15,000frs. in that of Barons; and 3,000 frs. in that of Knights. The Emperor reserved to himself the right to bestow, on the same terms, suitable titles upon generals, prefects, and such other of his subjects as should attain distinction through services rendered to the State. The old French nobility, however, was not restored. Cambacérès read to the Senate the decree which so profoundly modified the social order created by the Revolution; the Senate, in an address carried at the sitting of March 12, “offered to His Imperial and Royal Majesty its humble and respectful thanks for his kindness in communicating to them through the medium of His Serene Highness the Prince Archchancellor of the Empire the regulations dealing with the creation of the Imperial titles.

The hierarchical system was now complete. Napoleon created three princely titles after the campaign of 1809. That of Wagram was conferred on Berthier, Prince of Neuchatel; of Essling on Masséna, already Due de Rivoli; and of Eckmühl on Davout, already Duc d’Auerstadt. After the Russian campaign, a fourth, viz. that of Moscowa, was bestowed upon Ney, already Due d’Elchingen. Besides these, Napoleon created 31 Dukes, 388 Counts, 1090 Barons, and about 1500 Knights. There were only two Marshals of the Empire, namely, Brune and Jourdan, who were not ennobled. Napoleon showed himself extremely generous in the matter of grants designed to help in the formation of the necessary endowments and to maintain the splendour of the new titles. Berthier, for instance, had over 1,300,000 frs. a year in grants; Davout over 700,000 frs.; Massena over 600,000. To these figures must be added the large salaries attached to the offices held by the grantees, also the amount of the private fortunes they had succeeded in amassing, by illicit means, in the discharge of their official duties.

Napoleon took care not to see what went on. He held that a monarchy required the support of a noble class, and believed that by making the fortunes of those who served him he would bind them to himself. “We have been guided”, he declared to the Senate, in communicating to it the decrees of March 30, 1806, “by the great desire to consolidate the social order and our own throne, on which that order is based”. He imagined that, by multiplying the number of social grades between him and his subjects, he was enhancing the sacredness of his Imperial majesty and arousing a spirit of emulation in those who were ranged in successive stages beneath him. “For”, said he, “in ambition is to be found the chief motive-force of humanity, and a man puts forth his best powers in proportion to his hopes of advancement”.

The formation of a new society, depending entirely on himself, was, in the field of internal politics, Napoleon’s great idea. It was also his great blunder. The old-time nobility filled the posts about the new Court. Napoleon had the proud satisfaction of numbering among those attached to his own Court, or in the service of members of his family, the greatest names of pre-revolutionary France.

The Emperor’s household was conducted with the most perfect method, under the personal eye of the master; it was a model of order, luxury, and economy combined. On the other hand, Josephine’s expenditure was prodigal. According to Masson, she spent, between 1804; and 1809, 6,647,580 francs on dress alone; and several times Napoleon was forced to pay her debts. The dress worn by the courtiers was sumptuous; men and women alike appeared covered with gold and jewels. The concerts, the theatre, and the receptions were magnificent.

Swallowing their pride, the old-time nobility accepted the titles Napoleon gave them, but they haughtily remembered those older titles they had no longer the right to bear. Nothing could obliterate from their minds the feeling that they were in the employ of a parvenu; and they felt nothing but contempt for the new nobility. As for the latter, their devotion to the Emperor diminished in proportion to the favours they received; for, the more he loaded them with honours and wealth, the less they had to expect. Thus the society which the Emperor had created round him was largely composed of secret royalists or of sated upstarts: it was imperialist only in name. Moreover—and this was a point of even graver importance—Napoleon was isolated from the nation by his Court, whose etiquette, growing stricter every year, gradually excluded all who were not in regular attendance. The Constitution had been narrowed to one man; and that man had ceased to be national. The popularity of Napoleon Bonaparte, which had waxed steadily under the Consulate, slowly waned under the Empire.

“I can use up 25,000 men a month”, said Napoleon one day. It was from the nation that those men came. If our calculations are accurate, in order to maintain the army at its full effective strength the nation was called upon to provide 30,000 men in 1800, 60,000 in 1801, 60,000 in 1802, and 60,000 in 1803, or 210,000 in all under the Consulate. It provided 60,000 men in 1804, 210,000 in 1805, 80,000 in 1806, 80,000 in 1807, 240,000 in 1808, 76,000 in 1809, 160,000 in 1810, 120,000 in 1811, 237,000 in 1812, and 1,140,000 in 1813, or 2,403,000 in all under the Empire. The total amounts to 2,613,000 men during the reign of Napoleon. If the figures of his armies are to be complete, we must add to them the soldiers raised by the levée en masse of 1814; volunteers and time-expired men who had rejoined the colours at high pay; young men who received commissions on leaving the military schools; foreign regiments in the service of France, composed of Swiss, Irish, and volunteers of various nationalities; deserters; prisoners of war enrolled either with or against their will; and lastly, the contingents contributed by subject or allied foreign Powers. But we are here concerned only with the share taken by the French depart­ments in the recruiting of Napoleon’s armies.

There were three regular methods of procedure: (1) the first levy (appel) of the “classes de la conscription” numbering 1,447,000 men; (2) the supplementary levy (rappel) of the same classes, for such men as had not yet served, amounting to 746,000 men; (3) the levy of the National Guard, 370,000 men. To these should be added the “exceptional levies”, amounting to 50,000 men, which included the young men on the naval lists (inscription maritime), and the “guards of honour” equipped and mounted at their own expense, of whom each department had to provide a certain number, and who gained their commissions after a year’s service. These totals amount to 2,613,000 men (as above).

The Conscription was regulated by the law of 1798, which underwent no serious modification. The system of drawing by lot was used to weed out those conscripts of any particular class who would not be called upon to serve. Substitution was legalised. The payment for a substitute varied from 1500 to 4000 francs, according to the district and the year. Thus the escape from military service was open only to those possessed of some means. On an average we may reckon one substitute in every ten conscripts called. Exempted persons had to pay a military tax. Young men married immediately before the summons were exempt. It naturally followed that the number of marriages increased in proportion to the greater frequency of the calls to arms. In 1811 there were 203,000 marriages in France in 1812, 222,000; in 1813, 387,000; and in 1814,193,000. Similarly, the number of recalcitrants, insubordinates, and deserters rose in proportion to the number of the levies. At certain moments the number of conscripts in hiding was considerable, especially in the west, south, and centre, and in the newly annexed provinces.

Some had recourse to self-mutilation; others bribed the authorities to include them in the lists of exemption or to falsify their civil status. It often happened that the conscripts who joined were delicate or sickly youths, unfit for service, whom the officers were obliged to reject, while the sound conscripts stayed at home in hiding. The police hunted them down, or quartered watchers on the relations of the refractory; while flying columns scoured the country in search of the insubordinate. Almost always the people were in league with the recalcitrants. In spite of the amnesties declared in 1803, 1804, and 1810, the shirkers and the insubordinate went on increasing in number. Thus the number of the levies estimated on paper must be taken rather as representing the effort asked of the country than the actual result obtained. Between the two there was always a large discrepancy.

By a natural consequence, in proportion as the actual return from conscription fell off, Napoleon was forced to raise the nominal number required. In 1800 he only summoned 30,000 conscripts to the colours but the number rose to 60,000 per annum during the years 1801-5, 80,000 during 1806-9, 110,000 for 1810, 120,000 for 1811 and 1812, 137,000 for 1813, 150,000 for 1814, and 160,000 for 1815—a total of 1,447,000. Moreover, it frequently happened that the Emperor kept the conscripts enrolled beyond the statutory five years, or he summoned the yearly classes before their turn. For example, the 1806 class was summoned on September 23, 1805, the 1808 class on April 7, 1807, that of 1809 on January 21, 1808, that of 1810 on September 10, 1808, that of 1813 on September 1, 1812, that of 1814 on January 11, 1813, and that of 1815 on October 9, 1813.

When the conscription, even with its heightened demands, failed to provide enough men, Napoleon recalled the earlier classes to the colours; and then those who by good luck in the drawings had not been included in the lists, those who had found substitutes, and even those who were exempt—had all alike to go or find substitutes. It was in accordance with this plan, that, in 1805, he summoned afresh the classes from 1804 back to 1800, in 1808 those from 1809 to 1806, in 1809, those from 1810 to 1806, in 1813 first those from 1812 to 1809, then those from 1814 to 1812, and finally all the classes from 1814 to 1802. In this way all the classes were actually called upon to serve several times over.

Moreover, the use Napoleon made of the National Guard was in reality only a recall in disguise. By the Act of 1798 the National Guard had not been suppressed; but Napoleon viewed it with distrust. He remembered the important part it had played in the revolutionary movements; and indeed there was no room in a despotic system for a citizen militia. In Paris the Government organised a Municipal Guard (October 4, 1802), composed of picked veterans, and maintained at the cost of the city. In reality it was a reserve force in the service of the State; and the cost of its maintenance was extorted in spite of protests on the part of both the Municipal Council and the Prefect of the Seine, who was acting as Mayor of Paris. As for the National Guard, it existed on paper; and the Government could at any time place it on an active footing in case of need. Fouché, in fact, did so in 1809. Subsequently Napoleon reorganised it by the Senatus Consultum of March 13, 1812. It was to consist of all male citizens of sound health, divided into three levies (bans). To the first levy belonged all those men, aged from 20 to 26, who did not belong to the regular army; to the second those between 26 and 40; and to the third all those between 40 and 60. The National Guard was liable to serve only in the home defence of the Empire, in the maintenance of public security, and on the frontier and the coast. In the event of the country being invaded (an eventuality which was not long in presenting itself) its “cohorts” and its “legions” would have been an invaluable resource, and as it were a last refuge for French patriotism. But, in 1813, Napoleon destroyed the original character of the National Guard by enrolling all its best men as regular troops in the first levy for service in Germany. Henceforth the National Guard was as hateful in the eyes of the people as conscription itself; and when, at the end of 1813 and in 1814, the Emperor, as a last resource, called up all the classes and ordered a levée en masse, the country did not respond.

But it was not enough to recruit soldiers; it was necessary to provide for the cost of their maintenance. The history of finance under the First Empire would seem, viewed superficially, to show a more satisfactory record than that of army recruiting. And yet, when Napoleon fell, but one cry went up from the whole of France: “Down with conscription and the droits réunis”

The outset of the reign was distinguished by what was, relatively, a serious financial crisis. In 1804 there was formed under the name of “The Company of United Merchants ” (Negotiants Réunis), an association of faiseurs de service, purveyors and speculators, the leading spirit among whom was a man named Ouvrard. The Company engaged in certain speculations in connexion with the Spanish colonies, the success of which depended on being able to avoid the British cruisers. It also undertook to advance money to the French Treasury, and to supply the army with provisions. Now, in France, ready money was very scarce; and the Government failed to pay for the supplies furnished to the army. The Company thus found itself exposed to a heavy risk. In this emergency, with the consent of Barbé-Marbois, the embarrassed Company appealed to the Bank of France, which agreed to make advances by means of an issue of bank-notes. The notes decreased in value by 10 per cent, and more; and the situation became extremely grave. By a natural consequence the business in commercial bill-dis­counting was paralysed; and the crisis extended itself to trade. There were several startling failures. The interests of the Treasury, of the Bank, and of the Company—that is to say public, semi-public, and private interests were disastrously entangled and jointly endangered. The news of the victory of Austerlitz (December 2, 1805) did something to restore confidence. On Napoleon’s return to Paris, Barbé-Marbois was dismissed and replaced by Mollien, who drew up an account of the loans made to the United Merchants. The total amounted to 141,000,000 francs. The Company was forced to hand over all it possessed; and, thanks to the cash brought in from Austria, the Bank was put in a position to resume payment. But the Emperor was determined to prevent the recurrence of such crises in future.

“The Bank”, he declared, “belongs not only to the shareholders but also to the State, since it was to the State that it owed its privilege of issuing notes”. And he added, “It is my desire to see the Bank under the control of the State, but not too much so”. The law of April 22, 1806, consequently enacted that the Bank should be under the direction of a Governor (Crétet, Councillor of State) and two Vice-Governors, appointed by the State, and adopted other provisions to secure state control. In these affairs the Emperor himself did not scruple to interfere. For instance he fixed the rate of discount at 5 per cent, in 1806, and at 4 per cent, in 1807. In return for this, the Bank’s privilege was extended for twenty-five years beyond the fifteen originally conceded, i.e. to 1843; its capital was raised from 45,000 to 90,000 shares of 1000 francs each; and the decree of May 18, 1808, empowered it to open branches in the provinces, under the name of Comptoirs d'Escompte de la Banque de France. Three branches were opened under the Empire, at Lyons, Rouen, and Lille. Thus, after 1806, to use the words of Courtois the younger, the Bank became “a state institution in the form of a limited liability company”.

The due control of the Treasury was ensured by the establishment of the Cour des Comptes, created by the law of September 16, 1807, to take the place of a commission with similar duties (the Commission nationale de comptabilité), which under the Constitution of the year VIII was composed of seven titular members only. The new Court was far larger. It had a President-in-Chief (Barbé-Marbois), three Presidents, eighteen conseillers maîtres des comptes, sixty or seventy advisers (referendaires), and an Imperial Attorney-General. The Cour des Comptes took rank immediately after the Court of Cassation, and was charged with the “auditing” (jugement) of all the national accounts. It was the last financial creation that owed its origin to Napoleon.

Direct taxation underwent no essential modification. On the other hand, indirect taxes were considerably increased. The duties on liquors were remodelled and enhanced by a series of measures dealing with their manufacture, circulation, and consumption; salt was taxed (1805-6) in spite of the unpopularity of the gabelle; tobacco was made a government monopoly (1810). The administration of the droits réunis was clumsy and vexatious, and became hateful in the eyes of the people. In 1813 Napoleon took upon himself to increase both direct and indirect taxes by means of a simple decree.

But what constituted the essential characteristic of Imperial finance was the abnormal growth in the receipts from abroad. Of these, two kinds must be clearly distinguished: (1) the immediate contributions of war (such as war-indemnities paid by the vanquished at the conclusion of the war, requisitions, captures, and seizures made in the course of the war); (2) such property, real or other, as the Emperor reserved to himself by right of conquest in countries either conquered or otherwise acquired. The exact amount of the actual war contributions is impossible to estimate. All the accumulated wealth was formed into a special fund, variously named trésor de guerre, trésor de farmée, caisse des contributions, and finally domaine extraordinaire. The fund was actually established after the Austrian campaign in 1805; but it was not till much later that it received an official organisation by the Senatus Consultum of January 30, 1810. Its disposition was in the hands of the Emperor alone; he gave his orders to Defermon as intendant général of the domaine extraordinaire, just as, through his intendant Daru, he disposed of his Civil List of 25,000,000 francs and of the property which formed the dotation de la couronne. The formation of a War Reserve­Fund; the maintenance of the army in the field (the expenses of its preparation came out of the ordinary Budget); rewards, gifts and favours, endowments and pensions paid to the soldiery, the new nobility and the official class; a portion of the expenses incurred in connexion with the Public Works; all the expenses incidental to the repairs, up-keep, and decoration of the Imperial palaces; an occasional contribution to the normal receipts in order to balance the Budget; subventions and loans to declining industries—such were the principal uses to which the extraordinary receipts derived from abroad were put during the Empire. There was, thus, a secret Budget, drawn up independently of that which was published, but indispensable to it.

It follows that the Budget figures, as passed by the Legislative Body, were in reality fictitious; and the requisite equilibrium was no longer obtained, as in the days of the Consulate, by an approximate balance between income and expenditure. In 1811 the Budget showed an income amounting to 1,309,674,642 francs, and an expenditure of 1,309,000,246 francs; there was therefore a small surplus. According to the figures furnished by Nicolas, we may apportion the receipts for 1811 as follows : 30 per cent, from direct taxation; 6 per cent, from forests and lands; 40 per cent, from indirect taxation; and 24 per cent, from divers sources and the “extraordinary receipts”. The expenditure may be thus apportioned: 40 per cent, for the finances and interest on the public funds; 51 per cent, for the army; and 9 per cent, for the expenses of administration. Deficits only made their appearance along with disasters in the field. In 1812 there was a deficit of 95,000,000 francs: in 1813 one of 175,000,000 francs.

But, if the interest on the National Debt rose in 1814 to 63,000,000 francs per annum, in the shape of Perpetual Annuities, it was principally in order to complete the liquidation of the arrears which had accrued prior to the Consulate. Never under the Empire or under the Consulate was recourse had to loans properly so-called. “That method”, declared Napoleon in the interesting preamble to the edict of December 29,1810, establishing the tobacco monopoly, “is both immoral and disastrous... It insensibly undermines the edifice of state, and exposes one generation to the curses of the next”.

In other respects the Empire carried on those traditions of order and method which it had inherited from the Consulate. The price of stock had risen from 60 to 70 francs by the year 1806, and afterwards remained stationary at about 80. The maximum price of 93’40 was reached on August 27, 1807, and the minimum of 45 on March 29, 1814. Even this low figure compares favourably with those which prevailed shortly before and after 18 Brumaire. Thus, if facts were neglected which did not appear on the surface, the financial position appeared highly satisfactory. Not only were the means to carry on the ordinary affairs of government always forthcoming, but supplies were found, in spite of almost ceaseless war, to provide for the expenditure and the public works initiated under the Consulate, though these appeared, by their very nature, suited rather to a time of peace.

Under the Empire, public works were vigorously pushed on. Between 1804 and 1813 more than a milliard was spent; and the programme of works under construction in 1813 involved a further expenditure of 500 millions, without counting the expenses incurred under the Consulate. The repairs of the roads had become a matter of urgency. A distinction was drawn between local and departmental roads (kept up at the expense of the local authorities) and imperial high-roads (kept up by the State). The admirable system of high-roads, dating from early monarchical times, underwent a complete renovation and was carried beyond the boundaries of Old France. The Decree of November 16, 1811, enumerated 229 imperial high-roads, the most important of which, 30 in number, radiated from Paris as their centre to the most distant extremities of the Empire and indeed of Europe. The Mont-Cenis road, completed in 1805, brought Paris into touch with Turin; that of the Simplon, completed in 1807, connected Paris with Milan, Rome, and Naples. Numerous bridges were also built. The network of canals and waterways rendered available for navigation was hardly even outlined in pre-revolutionary France. The works undertaken during the Consulate and partially completed at the close of the Empire were planned on a scale so vast and, at the same time, with few exceptions, on such practical lines, that they constitute today by far the most important portion of the internal navigation of France. The Spanish prisoners of war, organised in “working companies”, provided manual labour at next to no expense. Prony, the Director of the School of Bridges and Highways, who, either on the spot or from a distance, was the guiding spirit in all these undertakings, was an engineer of the first rank. Marshes were drained, dykes strengthened, sand-dunes hindered from spreading along the coast. The principal sea-ports, both naval and commercial, and particularly the ports of Cherbourg and Antwerp, were enlarged and fortified. On the other hand, only a few inland places were fortified, and these only beyond the boundaries of Old France, so unlikely did a foreign invasion seem to be.

The Imperial palaces in the environs of Paris (Saint-Cloud, Fontainebleau, Compiègne, Versailles, Trianon, and Rambouillet) and those situated in the more remote departments, were restored and enlarged. In Paris the completion of the Louvre and the clearing of the Tuileries formed part of a general scheme which aimed at making the French capital the metropolis of Europe. The most famous works of art, the fruits of victory, poured in to enrich the Musée Napoléon at the Louvre. The Vatican archives, those of Simancas, and those of the Holy Roman Empire, came from Rome, Spain, and Vienna to be mingled with the Imperial archives, as though the present aspired to enslave the past. The capital grew rapidly. Numbering 600,000 inhabitants towards the close of the eighteenth century, it only registered 547,736 at the census of 1801; but by the end of the Empire its population had reached 700,000. Napoleon had expended more than 100,000,000 francs upon Paris, and 150,000,000 francs upon the chief towns of the departments. In the west, two towns, viz. Napoléon-Vendée (La Roche-sur-Yon), and Napoléonville (Pontivy) were, so to speak, created by him, in order to keep a closer watch upon that royalist district.

The Emperor threw himself into public works with the greater keenness in that he had a genuine desire to round off his military glory with the arts of peace, and because he considered it his duty as head of the State to contribute actively towards the material well-being of the country. When he rose to power, he knew little or nothing of economics. But by dint of discussion in the Council of State, of talk with Mollien, and of observation, he taught himself a great deal. In 1801 he had taken up a definite attitude. “That great and ordered system”, he exclaimed to Mollien, “which governs the whole world, must also govern each part of it. Government plays the part of the sun in the social system, whose various bodies should revolve round this central luminary, each keeping strictly to its own orbit. Government should therefore so rule the destinies of each society that all should vie with one another in seeking to preserve the harmony of the whole”.

These ideas gave birth to legislation of a new type. Under both the Consulate and the Empire, the State often intervened in the sphere of economics, and restored to their pristine vigour institutions which the Revolution had suppressed. A manifest return towards the guild-system of the old regime was visible in the creation of commercial exchanges with brokers and jobbers appointed by the Government (1801), in the reconstruction of the Chambers of Commerce (1802), in the formation of Advisory Boards in connexion with manufactures, factories, arts and crafts (1803), in the useful institution of conseils de prud’hommes (1806), and in the regulation of certain liberal professions.

Even while proclaiming the principle of the liberty of labour, the Revolution had made certain reservations in connexion with the food­ supply. To Napoleon this question was one of primary importance. “He feared”, he said, “popular insurrections due to economic causes, though he was not afraid of political risings”. Thinking to provide a remedy for economic crises in the exercise of state control, he kept a watchful eye on all that concerned the food-supply, especially in Paris. A copious series of laws, Consular decisions, Imperial decrees, and regulations issued by the Prefect of Police, revived in some measure the minute supervision exercised by the police in former times over the markets, the public granaries, and all the trades connected with the supply of food and drink; so much so that in Paris, at the close of the Empire, almost all these trades had again become veritable corporations. The same process was beginning in the larger provincial towns.

On the other hand, Napoleon was opposed to the restoration of the guild-system in other professions. While upholding in principle the liberty of labour, he instituted a system of strict supervision which placed the workman under the control of the police and in a position of inferiority towards his employer. It was with this end in view that the law of April 12, 1803, obliged the workman to provide himself with a form supplied by the local police, on which were inscribed his successive engagements. Without this form or without a passport, a workman was treated as a vagabond; and no employer might engage him. In Paris the Prefect of Police, and in certain provincial towns the local police, were to be found descending to the most trumpery details in the regulation of labour. The law of April 12, 1803, also recognised a systematised copyright in trade-marks or designs.

“While preserving”, said Napoleon, “those useful innovations which it was the object of the Revolution to introduce, I intend to restore any institutions of value which it mistakenly destroyed”—a general principle which was applied in a new fashion to weights and measures and the coinage. The Bill of December 10, 1799, upheld the decimal-metric system; but its general adoption was long delayed by the Order of November 4, 1800, and the Decree of February 12, 1812, which authorised the simultaneous use of both the old and the new measures. Similarly, with regard to the currency, the law of March 28, 1803, ordained as the unit a weight of five grammes of silver, 90 per cent. being of pure metal, under the name of “franc”. Gold was reckoned at 15’1/2 times the value of silver. These regulations sufficed to ensure in the France of that day a sound and stable monetary regime; and the Revolutionary reforms were maintained and developed. But the Senatus Consultum of 22 Fructidor, year XI (September 9, 1803) reintroduced the Gregorian Calendar, which was to come into operation from 11 Nivôse, year XIV (January 1, 1806).

It was, however, Napoleon’s general policy which, more even than his legislation, affected the material development of the country. The view which regarded state intervention as all-powerful in economic matters, the protectionist leanings of the French producers, on whose side the Emperor ranged himself, above all, the incidents of the struggle with Great Britain, brought about a commercial situation almost unprecedented in history, the consequences of which not only reacted upon French agriculture and French trade, but on the trade of Europe and the general commerce of the world. It does not fall within the scope of this chapter to enter into a full explanation of Napoleon’s commercial system. We must content ourselves with outlining that portion of it which concerns the internal conditions of bygone France.

In the course of every year from 1802 to 1807, a law relating to the Customs was passed by command of Napoleon. Of these laws, the two most important were those of 1803 and 1806, which contained Customs Tariffs. The protectionist character of the Tariff for 1803 was one of the causes which led to the rupture of the Peace of Amiens. The Tariff of 1806 was drawn up in the same spirit, but it was fuller, so much so that it served as a basis for all the Customs Tariffs in France during the greater part of the nineteenth century. France thus became frankly protectionist.

The various Decrees which established what is generally known as the Continental System, together with the Orders in Council by which the British Government retaliated on Napoleon, will be described at length in a later chapter, and therefore need not be discussed here. But some account of the economic effects of this system is requisite in a description of France under the Empire. During the middle period of the Empire, the Continental System occupied a position of paramount importance; and it is not without reason that some have seen in it the pivot of Napoleon’s policy; for, if it were to be made effective, it was essential that, as he no longer had a navy, he should have the whole of Europe either under his sway or in his alliance. But, owing to the force of circumstances, Great Britain was economically indispensable to Europe. Thanks to the lead which she had gained in matters industrial, she alone was in a position to provide certain manufactured goods, and more especially cotton fabrics. Owing to her maritime supremacy, she alone could import colonial food-stuffs into Europe. British goods and colonial produce became therefore the centre of an active system of smuggling, less widespread in France, it is true, than in the countries newly incorporated with the Empire, such as Germany, Italy, and Spain. The smugglers brought in the prohibited merchandise at a premium representing approximately half its real value. Napoleon compromised. He granted temporary licenses, giving certain French shippers the right to bring in prohibited goods or articles of British origin on payment of a duty of 40 per cent. The law of January 12, 1806, regularised the license system; but cloths, muslins, cotton materials, and hosiery remained absolutely prohibited. Napoleon hoped by this means to direct the illicit trade to his own advantage, and to become, so to speak, his own smuggler.

With regard to food-stuffs and cotton, he had vainly tried to import them overland from the Levant, by a system of transport across the Balkan Peninsula. But he was not living in the Middle Ages; and it was not in his power, omnipotent as he was, to revive the over­land trade-routes which the progress of maritime navigation had superseded. Napoleon, therefore, compromised once more. The Trianon Decree enhanced the existing duties on colonial produce. Here again the exciseman took the place of the smuggler.

Having thus regulated to his own advantage the importation of merchandise and food-stuffs which found their way into the Empire in spite of him, Napoleon, by a Decree issued October 18, 1810, established certain Tribunaux ordinaires de douane (Customs Tribunals) to try cases of first instance; above which the Cours prévôtales de douane, presided over by Grand Provosts, pronounced final judgments in cases of appeal. All the smuggling cases were referred to these special tribunals. The penalties for fraudulent declaration and smuggling were very severe. Such smuggled goods as came within the category of prohibited merchandise were to be confiscated and burnt, or included in the list of dutiable articles to be sold for the benefit of the State. Burnings were particularly frequent outside the old boundaries of France, where smuggling most abounded. In France itself the Decree of October 18, 1810, was received with enthusiasm because it maintained protection for French industries against British competition, and opened up to French trade those countries which had hitherto provided for their needs by means of smuggled British goods.

There were, therefore, two stages in the Continental System. In 1806 the exclusion of British trade was absolute, but tempered in practice by smuggling; in 1810 the prohibition was to a certain extent tempered by the Government, which, per contra, attempted to put down smuggling altogether. In both cases the European, and especially the French, markets were almost hermetically sealed to the products of British invention and to colonial produce. That the injury to trade and the sufferings of the consumer were acute, especially beyond the old boundaries of France, it is scarcely necessary to say. In 1800 the foreign trade of France reached an approximate total of 595,000,000 francs (imports 323,000,000, exports 272,000,000); in 1802, thanks to the peace, it touched 790,000,000 (imports 465,000,000, and exports 325,000,000); and it reached its maximum height in 1806 with 933,000,000 (imports 477,000,000, exports 456,000,000); but thenceforward it steadily diminished, falling in 1814 to 585,000,000 (imports 239,000,000, exports 346,000,000). Obviously these figures are only of secondary significance, owing to the extent of the illicit trade. The fact also ought to be taken into account, that neither the imports nor exports of gold and silver are included in the above figures. Between 1799 and 1814 France imported cash to the value of 838,000,000 francs, and only exported 21,000,000. Generally speaking, however, the oscillation of the “curve” remained fairly characteristic. Finally, it is to be observed that the balance of trade showed an excess of imports in 1800 and an excess of exports in 1814. The two lines intersected one another immediately after the establishment of the Continental System.

Various circumstances, wholly unconnected with the Continental System, contributed powerfully to advance French industry. At the time of the rupture of the Peace of Amiens, the “industrial revolution”, which had so radically transformed the conditions of production in England, was beginning to be felt in France. The application of machinery to manufactures, which had begun before the establishment of the Continental System, continued to develop under the new regime, simultaneously hindered and fostered by it—hindered because all relations with the original home of mechanical invention had been broken off, fostered because France had now to produce herself the goods she could no longer buy from Great Britain. On the other hand, there now came into being for the first time a happy and fruitful alliance between the manufacturers and the men of science. “The Society for the Encouragement of National Industries” grouped together, under the presidency of Chaptal, all those who were interested in mechanics, chemistry, and economics, in agriculture and commerce; and by its propaganda, its experiments, its loans, and its prizes contributed largely to the scientific progress of industry. In fact, it created in France the “applied sciences”. Napoleon himself was active in the same direction. Technical schools, prizes, loans and subventions, industrial exhibitions, government institutions designed to help on industrial development—all played their part in bringing about the progress achieved.

Agriculture profited by the introduction of improved systems of crop rotation, both Flemish and English. The spread of these was, to be sure, slow enough; but still a beginning had been made. The Continental System, by prohibiting the importation of foreign dyes, gave a great impetus to the culture of dye-producing plants, such as madder, woad, and saffron. Chicory was grown as a substitute for coffee. To take the place of sugar, various preparations were tried. The consumer was just getting used to a kind of treacle extracted from the grape, when, after many experiments, French manufacturers, reviving a process discovered in Prussia in the preceding century, succeeded in manufacturing sugar out of beetroot (1809-10). The Government fostered the new industry, which in 1812 was in full course of development; but the abandonment of the Continental System two years later dealt it a blow from which it took long to recover.

Flax and hemp were cultivated, and worked up by home industry. Napoleon offered in 1810 a prize of a million francs to the inventor of the best flax-spinning machine. A good machine was made by Philippe de Girard; but the prize was not awarded to him. His invention was taken up in Great Britain, whence it afterwards returned to France. The manufacture of woollen goods was greatly improved. The old and famous silk industry of Lyons had suffered greatly through the Revolution. Napoleon did all in his power to revive the fashion for Lyons silks. Jacquard invented the loom bearing his name, which executed by purely mechanical means even the most intricate designs in the richest materials. The progress of the cotton industry in France under Napoleon is astonishing, when one thinks of the difficulty of obtaining the raw material from America, of bringing the Levantine cotton overland, of the inadequacy of the supply from Naples and Sicily, and of the failure of the attempt to cultivate it in Corsica or the valley of the Rhone. Nevertheless Oberkampf and Richard, with his partner Lenoir, succeeded in. establishing important cotton-spinning factories with the machinery of the English spinning-jenny.

The important law of April 21, 1810, laid down once for all the principles which were to govern mining operations in France. As a matter of fact, neither mining operations nor metallurgic industries made much progress. On the other hand, industrial chemistry made great advances. The Decree issued on October 15, 1810, on “Factories and workshops which emit unhealthy or offensive smells”, laid the foundation of the system of state regulation still in force in France. Already it could enumerate—as subject to authorisation or to inspection—nearly seventy different chemical industries. Philippe Lebon invented the system of gas-lighting. Nicholas Leblanc, having invented a process for manufacturing soda, published his method from patriotic motives, and committed suicide, a ruined man. Lebon’s invention remained practically unknown; that of Leblanc, while it relieved France from the necessity of importing foreign natural sodas, gave it in exchange a superior product at a tenth of the price.

It is difficult to form a general opinion on the development of wealth in France under the Consulate and the Empire. We shall see later that Napoleon’s downfall was preceded by an economic crisis of peculiar gravity, the causes of which, it is true, were partly of political origin. But it seems clear that, while luxury prevailed at the Court and among the new nobility, so also material well-being and comfort were spreading among the general population and the peasantry. In the case of the latter the evidence is almost unanimous; but the improvement in their condition was less the work of Napoleon than of the Revolution itself. With regard to artisans, the frequent calls to arms made manual labour scarcer and therefore dearer. Nevertheless, certain local disturbances warned far-seeing men of the difficulties which industry on the grand scale and the growth of machinery were bound to entail.

Never perhaps was France more wretchedly armed against poverty. The old charitable institutions of the Church had disappeared during the Revolution; and the reorganisation of asylums, hospitals, refuges, outdoor relief centres, foundling hospitals, monts de piété, etc., devolved upon the municipalities. In Paris, Frochot, who as Prefect of the Seine performed the duties of mayor (for political reasons, the capital had, as regards municipal government, been placed in a category of its own), took an active part in the business of charity, as did the prefects and mayors in the departments. The communal and municipal revenues (including Paris) amounted in 1812 to 128,000,000 francs, more than half of which (51 per cent.) was contributed by the octroi-duties, which were specially assigned to meet the requirements of charitable institutions. The incomes derived from municipal property (i.e. 16 per cent.) were partially devoted to the same purpose. The Government strove to suppress vagrancy. In the list of public works executed by order of the State in the departments the construction of vagrant wards and prisons figured at the head.

The Imperial University.

Public instruction, like public charity, was in the hands of the Church under the old régime; but now the State claimed to be the Church’s heir. The law of 11 Floréal, year X (May 1, 1802), divided both instruction and schools into four classes as follows—(1) Primary Schools, supported by the local authorities, communal and municipal acting under the control of the prefects and sub-prefects; (2) Secondary Schools, providing instruction in French, Latin, and elementary science, and supported by the communes or by private enterprise, but subject to government authorisation and prefectorial inspection; (3) Lycées, providing a thorough education in literature and science, of which there was to be at least one in each Appeal Court district. The lycées were state institutions: inspectors, governors, and teachers were appointed and paid by the State. (4) Écoles Speciales, constituting, according to the law, “the final stage in public instruction”. They were divided into (a) écoles publiques superieures, devoted to “the full and thorough study, as well as to the advancement of the useful arts and sciences”; and (b) écoles d'application des services publics, designed to provide the State with enlightened public servants. The Act contemplated a general remodelling of the Higher Schools. As a matter of fact, the Government contented itself with completing and organising, in Paris and the departments, the schools of law, medicine, and design; with maintaining the institutions which the Revolution had protected, created, or restored in Paris; and, lastly, with the establishment of a few new schools, such as a special military school for officers at Saint-Cyr, schools of pharmacy, and technical schools. In fact the law was responsible for only one wholly new creation, viz. the lycées. In these it undertook to found 6400 exhibitions (bourses), 2400 of which were to be reserved for the sons of military men and government officials, and 4000 for the best pupils in the secondary schools. Nevertheless, in 1806, there were only 29 lycées in existence, as compared with 370 secondary schools kept up at the expense of the communes, and 377 founded by private persons.

With these results Napoleon was by no means satisfied. “The essential thing”, he wrote on February 16, 1805, “is a teaching body” organised on hierarchical lines, “like that of the Jesuits of old”. This body should have a definite aim, for there can be no stability in political conditions without a teaching body actuated by fixed principles. “Unless men are taught from childhood, as they should be, to be republicans or monarchists, Catholics or infidels, and so forth, the State will never make a nation: it will rest upon shifting and insecure foundations, and will be for ever exposed to disturbance and change.” An enquiry was ordered. Fourcroy, Councillor of State and Director-General of Public Instruction at the Ministry of the Interior, drew up a scheme which he was obliged to remodel more than twenty times; the Emperor was never satisfied with it. On May 10, 1806, the Legislative Body approved provisionally the principle of the desired reform. “There shall be established, under the name of the Imperial University, a body ex­clusively charged with the work of teaching and public instruction throughout the Empire”. In bringing in the bill, Fourcroy explained that it aimed, in a sense, at a reconstruction, only on a vaster scale and embracing the whole Empire, of the ancient University of Paris.

Eventually the Decree of March 17, 1808, gave a working constitution to the Imperial University. Henceforth no one might open a school nor teach in public without being a member of the Imperial University, and a graduate of one of its Faculties. These Faculties were five in number, viz. theology, law, medicine, science, literature. After the Faculties came the lycées; then the colleges or secondary schools maintained by the municipalities; next those kept by private persons; then the private boarding-schools; and, lastly, the primary schools. The degrees attached to the Faculties were those of Bachelor, Licentiate, and Doctor. No one could be promoted to a higher post unless he had previously held those below it. All the schools of the Imperial University were to take as the basis of their teaching the principles of the Catholic religion, loyalty to the Emperor, and obedience to the statutes of the teaching body. These statutes laid down a special system of discipline, and a series of regulations which, in the case of certain posts, went so far as to impose the common life and celibacy. The recruiting-ground for the teaching-staff was provided in the Normal School, organised in Paris in 1810, by the restoration of the Normal School founded by the Convention in 1795.

The University was divided into as many Academies as there were Appeal Court areas. At the head of each Academy was a Rector, assisted by a conseil académique and by academic inspectors. A Grand Master, in Paris, appointed and dismissed by the Emperor, governed the Imperial University. He appointed and promoted its officers, maintained discipline, superintended the curriculum, and presided over the University Council. The University had its own budget. An abundant crop of regulations subsequently grew up. In this connexion the Decree of November 15, 1811, is highly characteristic: it shows clearly that Napoleon was anxious to reduce more and more the competition of these private schools with the government institutions, if not, indeed, to suppress them altogether. And yet, at the final collapse of the Empire, there existed within the old boundaries of France only 36 lycées with 9000 pupils, and 368 colleges with 28,000 pupils, as against 1255 voluntary institutes and boarding­schools with nearly 40,000 pupils.

The Imperial University had, therefore, as clientèle less than half the pupils actually acquiring a secondary education. Moreover, it will be observed that it was incomplete both at the top and at the bottom. The Faculties of Law and Medicine had, it is true, 6300 students in 1815; but all the Écoles Speciales included in the design of the Act of 1802 were to be found outside the University organisation. Primary education was left to private initiative, to the communes, or to the Frères des Écoles Chrétiennes, who were authorised and encouraged by the Grand Master, according to the decree of 1808.

These shortcomings did not prevent the University from being the sole Imperial creation which has survived to our own day, though it has become almost unrecognisable both in its organisation and in its guiding spirit. In Napoleon’s conception, it was to be a self-governing corporation, but a state institution. The pupils and the masters were subjected to a discipline derived partly from a monastic, partly from a military model. As in the hierarchical society created in all its details by the Emperor, academical energies were to be stimulated by the spirit of emulation and the desire of promotion. Confined practically as it was to the spheres of secondary and higher education, the Imperial University appealed only to the sons of the upper and middle classes. It was in no sense democratic. Lastly, it aimed at the preservation of the social and monarchical system; and, so long as the Church could not produce schools of its own to compete with it, it frankly claimed, although recruited from lay sources, to take the Church’s place. Its first Grand Master, Fontanes, was one of the leaders of what we may call the clerical party under the Empire; and its first Chancellor, appointed by the Decree of March 17, 1808, was “ le Sieur Villaret, Bishop of Casal”.

Above the Écoles Speciales and the Faculties came the Institute, established in 1795. By its publications, its reports, its correspondence with learned and foreign societies, the higher standard it set for study and research, and above all to the authority it derived from the inclusion of the most illustrious names in branches of learning, the Institute was intended to be the permanent, living, and active representative of literature, science, and art. It comprised three “classes”, physical science and mathematics, moral and political science, literature and the fine arts. The second class was disliked by Bonaparte, for it contained all the most notorious ideologues. By the consular order of January 23, 1803, it was suppressed; and its members were distributed among the other branches, which were henceforward to be four in number, resembling in their attributes the Academies of former times. The class of physical and mathematical science carried on the old Academy of Science; that of French language and literature, the French Academy; that of ancient history and literature, the Academy of Inscriptions and Belles-Lettres; that of Fine Arts, the old Academies of painting, sculpture, and architecture.

It would seem to have been Napoleon’s wish that the Institute should take an active part in the work of government. “The Institute cannot refuse what is asked of it”, he wrote in a famous note, dated April 19, 1807; “it is bound by the terms of its constitution to respond to any demands made upon it by the Ministry of the Interior”. Nevertheless, the active participation of the Institute was actually confined to the editing of general reports on the progress of literature, science, and art, and to the distribution of prizes.

Thus, then, the labours of the intellect, the work of education and criticism, and the formal recognition of their results, were entrusted to organised bodies acting by order of the Government. It followed inevitably that all expression of opinion uttered outside these organised bodies was subject to rigorous scrutiny. The two Censorships established on April 5,1800, at the Ministry of the Interior for theatres, and at the Ministry of Police for the press, discharged their duties uninterruptedly; and police supervision was naturally extended to all printed publications. This however was not enough; and to Napoleon’s eyes a fresh series of regulations appeared necessary. He began with the theatres. The imperial note of February 25, 1806, and the Decrees of June 8, 1806, April 25, July 29, and November 1, 1807, established a truly extraordinary system. In Paris there were to be only eight theatres, viz. four “Grand Theatres” (the Opera, the Théatre Français, the Opéra Comique, and the Odéon), and four “Secondary Theatres”. Every theatre was to have a special character of its own, defined by the Minister of the Interior. All plays had to be supervised by the police before production. In the departments, five towns were to be entitled to two permanent theatrical companies each, fourteen other towns to one company each. The Empire was divided into twenty-five theatrical areas, twelve of which were to be allowed two strolling companies each, and thirteen one company each. The companies and their repertories were placed under the supervision of the police and the Ministry of the Interior, the prefects, sub-prefects, and mayors.

But the Decree of February 5, 1810, which organised the general censorship of printing and publishing, was stricter still. The number of printers was limited: in Paris it was not to exceed sixty. Printers had to take out licenses and to swear an oath; and candidates for licenses might not take the oath “until they had given proof of their capacity, moral character, and attachment to their country and their sovereign”. Booksellers also were to be licensed and sworn, but their number was not restricted. Before being printed, every work had to be submitted to the General Censorship, and, in case of appeal, to the Minister of the Interior; but, even after permission given, the general police and the prefects could suspend publication. The severity shown by the General Censorship and the police in dealing with intellectual activity was almost incredible.

Down to 1810, newspapers had remained subject to the regime established under the Consulate; but the supervision of the police tended always towards greater rigour. Censors and official editors were forced upon the principal journals. After 1810 the control of the press became still more severe. Outside Paris the number of newspapers was reduced to one for each department; and this was placed under the control of the prefect by the Decree of August 3,1810. After October, 1811, there were only four newspapers left in Paris : the Moniteur, the official organ; the Journal des Débats, now called Journal de l’Empire; the Journal de Paris, which dealt chiefly in gossip; and the old Gazette de France, which gave special prominence to religious news. Going one step further still, the Decree of February 18, 1811, appropriated the Journal de l’Empire, without giving any compensation to the brothers Berlin, its proprietors. Finally, the Decree of September 17, 1811, confiscated all the other Paris newspapers. From that moment the Press may be said to have ceased to exist. Political news was only published at rare intervals and only with the Government’s consent; and such news was often false.

Is it astonishing if a régime such as that we have just described hampered the free expression of ideas? It was no mere coincidence that Chateaubriand and Madame de Stael, the two most distinguished writers of the Napoleonic era, belonged to the Opposition.

In 1801 Chateaubriand, a former emigre, had published Atala, an episode detached from Le Génie du Christianisme, which first saw the light in 1802, about the time of the promulgation of the Concordat; his demonstration of the poetic beauty and civilising power of the Catholic religion therefore appeared at the right psychological moment. Chateaubriand then entered the diplomatic service, but resigned after the murder of the Duc d’Enghien. He now published René, another fragment of Le Génie; and, having formed the project of writing Les Martyrs, a kind of romantic prose epic depicting the antagonism between the Christian and pagan worlds, he set out for the Holy Land. This was in 1806. Returning to Paris in 1807, he published, in 1809, Les Martyrs, and in 1811 his travelling impressions under the title of Itinéraire de Paris á Jerusalem. His dislike for Napoleon had become invincible; but, though he took little pains to disguise it, he was not subjected to any persecution, for, being in no sense a man of action, he was politically harmless. Moreover, his pride kept him aloof from affairs. But, just because all he wrote reflected his own personal views, and because he had a marvellous gift for reproducing, with the precision of a painter and the sensibility of an artist, his impressions of nature and of history, he succeeded, at least to a large extent, in stamping his mode of thought and feeling upon his contemporaries. The effect of his work did not reach its height until the next generation; but during the Napoleonic era he stood for reaction against what he called the narrow scepticism of the eighteenth century. He rediscovered, so to speak—possibly, indeed, in a manner savouring more of literature than of genuine religious belief— the living God of the Christian, and substituted Him for the Supreme Being of the philosophers and for the obsolete mythologies of the men of letters. He shook himself free from the outworn forms of the classicists. History was to him only the past restored to life; and this past he made others see as he himself saw landscape, colour, sunlight. Lastly, whatever he did was steeped in his personality, his aloofness, his disillusionment. French Romanticism springs from Chateaubriand.

Madame de Stäel was also a romanticist. Banished from Paris under the Consulate, she made her home at Coppet, whence she travelled in Germany, Italy, even in France. She had published her treatise, De la Littérature considérée dans les rapports avec les Constitutions Sociales in 1800, and two novels, Delphine in 1802, and Corinne in 1807. In 1810, having finished her book on Germany, she ventured to return to France, and settled near Blois, where immediately her friends flocked round her, as of old at Coppet. Solitude was distasteful to her; she needed conversation and the stir of life. It was for this reason that Napoleon dealt more severely with her than with Chateaubriand. The General Censorship was on the point of authorising the publication of De l’Allemagne, when the police, at the Emperor’s instigation, interposed its veto (1810). Madame de Stael was forced to return to Coppet, where she was kept under strict surveillance; and Madame Recamier was banished from Paris (1811) for having gone to see her friend. In 1812 Madame de Stäel escaped, travelling through various countries to England, where she published De l’Allemagne in 1813.

What a strange spectacle was the struggle between the all-powerful Emperor and this woman! To the whole of Europe Madame de Stäel personified opposition to the despot. In France, since all political activity had become impossible, she played another part. Supremely intelligent, drawing her intellectual nourishment from the talk of the most distinguished men of her day, a Parisian by choice, a traveller by necessity, Madame de Stäel developed into a French-speaking cosmopolitan. Perceiving that the classical rules which tradition had forced upon literary expression in France were not absolute, and that each people, each generation, has its own individuality, she distinguished between the mental attitude of the Latin and that of the Teuton, she revealed Germany to France, and made the Romanticism of the North (she was the first to use the word in its modern sense) acceptable to the classical taste of the Latin races. Like the philosophers of the eighteenth century, she believed in the boundless progress of humanity; and to her the march of European literature was an harmonious concert, to which each people contributed its peculiar note. She broke down barriers, she opened out horizons. She sowed the seeds of new ideas, and she believed in their force. She could not conceive of politics divorced from morals, or of morals divorced from religion. She was at once a liberal and a believer. In the noblest sense of the word she was an ideologue.

But, for the present, literature still dragged on in the rut of time-honoured formulae. Its revolution only came after the fall of Napoleon. Most of the poets of the time are forgotten today. Some signs there were, perhaps, which spoke of a revival of lyric poetry, in the work of Chênedollé, Millevoye, and even Fontanes; but Ducis, who (after Voltaire) made Shakespeare known in France, and Écouchard Lebrun, “the French Pindar”, had almost ceased to write. Official poetry was rampant. The birth of the King of Rome inspired 170 pieces, written for the occasion, which brought in 88,400 francs in fees to their authors.

Professional literary criticism, whether it clung to or diverged from the Voltairean tradition, was absorbed in the contemplation of the past. Ginguené devoted himself to the study of Italian literature; Sismondi, a friend of Madame de Stäel, to the history of the Italian Republics. But, though literature sounded the praises of Charlemagne and his Paladins, of Henri Quatre and other memories of the past, there does not exist a single national historical work of that time worthy of mention.

As for philosophy, the sensualistic school of the eighteenth century, which claimed to explain everything by sensation, was represented by idéologues like Volney, Garat, Saint-Lambert, Laromiguière, Pinel, de Gerando, by Cabanis and Destutt de Tracy, whose Ideologic, or Science of Ideas, appeared in 1801. The idéologues were free-thinkers in religion and liberals in politics. “A band of imbeciles”, Napoleon called them, “who sigh from the bottom of their souls for liberty of the press and of speech, and believe in the omnipotence of public opinion”. A new doctrine, reactionary both in politics and religion, was formulated by de Bonald and Joseph de Maistre. A mystic tendency showed itself in the works of Saint-Martin, Ballanche, and Azaïs. The psychological analysis of Maine de Biran and the spiritualism of Royer-Collard introduced a philosophy which found a warm welcome at the University, and was long to remain the official doctrine. Lastly, Saint-Simon and Fourier, whose first publications, be it said, attracted no attention whatever, enunciated certain ideas upon social organisation which placed them among the pioneers of socialism.

The movement of ideas under Napoleon was, therefore, both interesting and varied; and we can often discern the beginnings of things for which the future was to be the richer. The scientific movement brilliantly maintained the progress of the eighteenth century. In mathematics, both pure and applied, astronomy, algebra, geometry, topography, physics, the generation which comprised men like Lalande (born in 1733), Lagrange, Mechain, Monge, Cassini, Delambre, Laplace, Legendre, and Carnot, together with that of Lacroix, Biot, Malus, Poinsot, Poisson, and Arago (born in 1786), could boast a brilliant constellation of stars of the first magnitude. The chemists, from Guyton de Morveau (born in 1737), Berthollet, Fourcroy, Chaptal, Ducret the younger, Vauquelin, Bouillon-Lagrange, Thénard, Gay-Lussac, down to Chevreul (who was born in 1786, and died in 1889), combined laboratory experiments and scientific research with practical application of their results.

Natural science too advanced with rapid strides, thanks to the work of Cuvier in the field of comparative anatomy and palaeontology, of Geoffroy Saint-Hilaire and Lacepede in zoology, of Lamarck, who was the first to formulate the doctrine of evolution (1809), of Haüy in mineralogy, of Jussieu and the two Genevese, Candolle and Saussure, in botany. Among the physicians, Bichat, whose anatomical treatise was epoch-making, and who died prematurely in 1802 at the age of 31, alone gained scientific distinction. The rest were little more than practitioners.

Turning to the Fine Arts, we find two theories dividing their holders into opposite camps. Quatremère de Quincy, whose Essay on the Ideal appeared in 1805, maintained a doctrine of ideal aesthetics. According to him, there exists an ideal beauty, absolute, heroic, and final. This beauty the ancients had succeeded in expressing; it was the duty of the moderns to rediscover it. The artist was bound to study things as they are, but only in the spirit of idealism, or in the light of an aesthetic law to which he must subordinate his own individual tastes and temperament. The naturalistic or liberal school had for its leader Emeric David, whose Disquisition on the Art of Sculpture appeared in 1805. It aimed at reconciling the realisation of classic “beauty” with personal inspiration, with truth of expression and sincerity of observation. The public became interested in the controversy, but it was not converted to the “ideal”. The Government also possessed immense influence in this respect. Napoleon was indifferent to art in all its forms; but he thought it advisable to encourage it, in order to add splendour to his reign. The official art preferences of Denon, Director-General of Galleries and Museums, coincided with those of the Fine Art class of the Institute and of the École des Beaux Arts.

Thus it came about that out of the conflict of doctrines, the tastes of the public, and the influence of the Government, there was born an artistic style sufficiently original and definite to give to the reign of Napoleon that distinction which it lacked in literature. Like the Imperial régime itself, it was stiff and formal, solemn and sumptuous, declamatory, pompous and fleeting! It only required a little romantic imagination or a little realistic truth to sweep it into oblivion. Nevertheless it had a beauty of its own, and it left its stamp on everything—on an official discourse by Fontanes as well as on the shape of a card­table, on an overture by Mehul as well as on a picture by David. Theoretically it belonged to the “ideal” school, modified in practice by the “liberal” doctrine. In so far as it followed antique models, it may be said to be “ideal”; in so far as circumstances forced it to adapt those models to modern needs, it was “liberal”; and it displayed original beauty in proportion as this adaptation was complete.

For this reason the sculpture of the period does not count. Houdon (born in 1741) and Roland (born in 1749) belong to another generation. The architecture of the time exaggerated more and more the tendency of the preceding period to reproduce the monuments of antiquity ; its best work was in the restoration and completion of existing monuments. It was in no sense original. It built a Greek temple and called it the Exchange; it copied Trajan’s column to glorify the Grand Army; nothing could have been easier. Nevertheless there was a keen sense of decorative effect and a grandiose, harmonious ensemble, especially in the work of Napoleon’s favourite architects, Percier and Fontaine. It was the same thing with the decorative arts. Furniture was stiff, uncomfortable, and pompous to the point of absurdity. But it is not in its place in the mean houses of the middle class. To judge it aright, we must picture it in its proper sphere, in the imperial palaces, surrounded by all the accessories which Fontaine and his fellow-workers were able to group in such imposing fashion. We must summon up before the eye of imagination the Court fêtes and the stately ceremonial. We must observe the uniforms and official costumes of the men, and the dress of the women, so original in its combination of modern elegance with classic design. In all this there is an artistic note, the note of the “Empire style”, which belongs to the Empire alone, and is marvellously suited to the Roman features of Napoleon.

In painting, Louis David (1748-1825) stood high above his contemporaries by right of genius, knowledge, and personal influence. He was one of the protagonists of the idealistic school; but, whether he willed it or not, in his hands the orthodox doctrine unbent from its attitude of uncompromising rigidity. The aged Vien, born in 1716, to whom belonged the glory of having been David’s master; Vincent, worthy but frigid; Regnault, through whose correctly classical work there still showed occasionally something of eighteenth century charm; and Lethière, all these were temperate idealists. Greuze and Fragonard, who lived till 1805 and 1809 respectively, were only the survivors of a bygone age: the day of that charming, iridescent, dainty, but superficial eighteenth century art was over.

The generation of painters which followed belonged entirely to the classical school. The work of Isabey (born 1767) was attractive and brilliant. Girodet was a classicist and at the same time a man of genuine imagination—two elements which he never fully succeeded in reconciling. Gérard specialised in portraiture, as did Madame Vigée-Lebrun and Robert Lefevre. Guérin, Regnault’s pupil, Gericault’s master, and a confirmed “Davidian” to boot, was perhaps the most typical painter of the classical school. Gros (born in 1771) was the Emperor’s favourite artist. He was a colourist, a realist, full of animation and a sense of the dramatic; full too of a sense of life and effect, even if occasionally somewhat theatrically expressed. Among the younger men, Ingres (born in 1780) and Horace Vernet (born in 1789) were already at the height of their powers, if not of their reputation. Lastly, in the Salons of 1812 and 1813, a quite young painter, Gericault by name (born in 1790), exhibited epoch-making pictures: all romantic art is in them—thrilling, passionate, already triumphant. Thus in painting, as in literature, the First Empire saw the dawn of Romanticism, but with this difference, that in literature the classical school was definitely moribund and sterile even before the Revolution, while in art its most glorious period is that of Napoleon.

It is interesting to find music developing vigorously side by side with painting. Napoleon’s tastes lay rather in the direction of Italian music. He favoured men like Spontini, Cherubini, Salieri, Paër, Paisiello, and Della-Maria. But the French school was brilliant; and the works of Catel, Berton, Lesueur, and particularly of Mehul, with the comic operas of Dalayrac, Gaveau, Nicolo (whose real name was Isoard), and Boieldieu, illustrated the best qualities of French music.

To complete the picture of France under the First Empire nothing now remains but to group together in their chronological order the principal events in her internal history. In this respect the only noteworthy incident of the first years of Napoleon’s reign was the financial and economic crisis, to which, as we have seen, Napoleon speedily put an end on his return to France after the victory of Austerlitz. From January to September, 1806, the Emperor resided either in Paris or at one of the suburban palaces; and it was during this time that he planned the two most important institutions of the new régime—the new nobility and the University. Then he set off to conduct the campaign in Prussia and Poland. He was absent from September, 1806, until July, 1807. He continued to govern the country from afar; and, in his correspondence, letters dealing with home affairs alternate with military orders and matters relating to the conduct and organisation of the campaign. The Berlin Decree put the finishing touch to the new régime so far as internal affairs were concerned. The nobility, the University, the Continental System, and the Church transformed into the handmaid of the State—these were the four basic columns on which the fabric of the Empire reposed.

In spite of the master’s absence, France was tranquil. We have only to note a few royalist movements of no real importance. At Bordeaux and in the west a royalist band was formed, with the aid of subsidies from Great Britain; La Rochejacquelein was its principal leader. But the police made short work of this disturbance. One obscure accomplice was shot (September 18, 1805); and La Rochejacquelein, in order to save his property from confiscation, went over to the Empire. In Britanny, Guillemot the Chouan, a former companion of Georges Cadoudal, was taken prisoner and shot (January 4, 1805); La Haye Saint-Hilaire suffered the same fate on October 7, 1806. In Normandy d’Aché and Le Chevalier endeavoured to effect a rising; and the poor old Marquise de Cambray even went so far as to prepare a bedroom for His Majesty in her château at Tournebut. But the conspiracy ended in an act of highway-robbery; the law had no difficulty in dealing with royalists reduced to robbing a stage-coach.

The material condition of the country was one of prosperity. On Napoleon’s return, after Jena, Eylau, and Tilsit, he was welcomed with genuine enthusiasm. Everybody, perhaps even Napoleon himself, believed that the war which was just over was to be the last. The national fête on the occasion of the Emperor’s birthday (August 15) was celebrated in 1807 with unwonted splendour. Speaking in the name of the Legislative Body, Fontanes, in the address which he presented to Napoleon, acclaimed “far less the conqueror than the peace-maker of Europe”. Practical as ever, the Emperor took advantage of his renewed popularity to suppress the Tribunate. He made, besides, several changes in the personnel of his government. Talleyrand was appointed Vice­Grand Elector, Berthier Vice-Constable; Champagny became Foreign Minister, and Clarke Minister for War. Crétet replaced Champagny at the Ministry of the Interior; and Bigot de Preaineneu succeeded the deceased Portalis as Minister of Public Worship. These selections were not all the happiest imaginable; Clarke could not compare with Berthier. Talleyrand was not exactly disgraced; but his elevation to the title of a Grand Dignitary, specially created for him, removed him to a certain extent from close contact with affairs, and his inexhaustible subtlety no longer tempered his master’s rough diplomacy. The promotions of 1807 usher in a second generation of Napoleon’s servants.

Soon after his return from a short journey in Italy (December, 1807), the Emperor put the finishing touches to the two institutions which were to consolidate his work: the nobility and the University (March, 1808). Then he set out for Bordeaux and Bayonne. We know the business he had in view; we know too the disastrous consequences which his intervention in Spain held in store for him. He was away from April to August, 1808. His absence was marked in Paris by a characteristic episode. An old Jacobin, Eve Demaillot, had gathered round him a band of republicans, including General Claude-Francois de Malet, an officer who had been cashiered for his republican opinions. The conspirators, flattering themselves that they had the support of the idéologue group in the Senate, drew up a Senatus Consultum proclaiming the dethronement of Napoleon, reestablishing the Republic, and calling the people together in their electoral colleges. A provisional government, in which La Fayette, Moreau, Malet, and other republicans were to take part, was to preserve order, make peace with foreign Powers, and emancipate the conquered countries. A proclamation to the army was drafted. What was the precise extent of the plot it is impossible to say. Malet seems to have belonged to a secret society known as les philadelpées, who carried on republican traditions. Fouche was a free­mason. Did the conspirators really think they could count on his support? One thing is certain: it was Dubois, not Fouché, who discovered the plot (June 8, 1808). Dubois arrested the conspirators and informed the Emperor of the affair; this time he had real hopes of ousting his rival at the Ministry of Police. But Fouche, more fortunate than in 1802, succeeded in persuading Napoleon that the plot was of no importance; the prisoners were not tried, and the affair was hushed up.

The Emperor returned to Paris through the departments of the west, but started again immediately, only allowing himself time to celebrate the 15th of August, and to raise a fresh levy of troops, now for the first time calling up two classes in advance. Already the consequences of the Spanish policy were plainly visible. In close succession the tidings of the capitulation of Baylén and the convention of Cintra burst on the French people. Could it be possible that victory no longer attended the eagles of France? “Public opinion”, wrote Fiévée, one of Napoleon’s secret agents, “is sick with anxiety”; and he added these significant words : “If one were asked to describe the moral condition o of France, one would have to say that the only dupes left are those who still base their calculations on popular credulity”. Shortly afterwards Napoleon hurried to the Congress of Erfurt (September 22) where he seemed to be in very truth the master of Europe. On his return to Paris he opened the session of the Legislative Body (October 25). One phrase in the address presented by Fontanes in answer to the speech from the throne deserves to be remembered. “Already you are on the point of leaving France once more France which during so many years has seen you for so few days. You are setting out; a vague fear, born of love and tempered by hope, troubles all our hearts”. Beneath the cautious circumlocution of the President of the Legislative Body the general uneasiness was plainly visible. On October 29 Napoleon left Paris for Spain. Never had his life been marked by such feverish activity. The year 1808 was to be the turning point of the Empire.

To all those, not blinded by servile devotion, who had the true interests of France at heart and some power of divining the future, two facts made themselves more and more apparent: Napoleon’s policy was becoming extremely dangerous; and no provision had been made for the contingency that the one man on whom everything depended might disappear from the scene. Talleyrand and Fouché had the courage to look the matter in the face. Their motives could hardly be disinterested. In their thought of the morrow their first instinct was doubtless to retain the high positions to which Napoleon had raised them; but, if they kept their private fortunes in view in case anything should happen to Napoleon, they thought at the same time of the fortunes of France. There was no love lost between the two men; but they met and talked things over. They agreed to ignore Joseph, Louis, and Jerome, who were neither capable nor popular, and came to an understanding, it seems, to prefer Murat to Bernadotte. The Emperor got wind of these confabulations, and his anger knew no bounds. He returned at full speed, his campaign scarcely over. On January 23 he attacked Talleyrand in public with unprecedented violence. Though removed from the position of Grand Chamberlain, Talleyrand continued to go to Court; but he never forgave, and, if a secret, he was henceforth an implacable enemy. As for Fouché, whether out of prudence or contempt, Napoleon spared him yet once more.

Before four months were over, the Emperor set off again for the front; no one in France knew why. By an administrative order, drawn up at the moment of his departure (April 13, 1809), Napoleon had, as usual, appointed Cambacérès as his deputy. Ministers were to correspond with the Emperor direct, but to meet once a week under the presidency of the Arch-Chancellor. It so happened that Crétet, Minister of the Interior, fell ill from overwork; Napoleon put Fouché in his place (June 29). Thus it came about that the two most important ministerial offices were united under the same chief; and for the first time in the history of the reign there was a chief, if not a Prime Minister.

The royalists had not yet lost all hope. Louis XVIII, at this time a refugee in England, never ceased to look for the active support of the British Government. But royalist emissaries in France continued to be seized and shot; the Jersey agency, which had been at work since 1793, disappeared. Fouche’s energy and skill had enabled him to suppress, once for all, the royalist endeavours; and this was the chief reason why Napoleon had continued to trust him. Fouché made the most of the situation. The long-expected English landing actually took place, but at Walcheren (July 29, 1809), not in Britanny. Flushing was invested (August 6), Antwerp threatened. While the other ministers hesitated, Fouché ordered a levy of the National Guard in the north-eastern departments and in Paris, and afterwards in the south, on the pretext that another English landing was possible at Marseilles; he also issued orders for the reinforcement of the National Guard in Paris.

These measures were obviously out of all proportion to defensive needs. Let but an accident happen to Napoleon, and Fouché was master of France. As a matter of fact, on October 12, the youth Staps attempted to assassinate Napoleon at Schonbrunn. When the alarm was over, Napoleon, who at the outset had supported Fouché (he had made him Duke of Otranto on August 15), intervened in his turn. He disbanded the National Guards, and sent Montalivet to the Interior (October 1), but he did not disgrace Fouché. He preferred to bide his time.

On October 20, 1809, Napoleon returned to Fontainebleau. When, some hours later, the Empress Josephine rejoined her husband, she found the door of communication between her room and that of the Emperor walled up. Napoleon had decided upon a divorce. For a long time he had been possessed by the idea, for upon him, too, lay like a dead weight the terrible question of the future. What did it profit to have founded an hereditary Empire if he could not ensure the succession? If we are to trust Masson, Napoleon had for a long time believed himself incapable of having issue. At first he seems to have intended to settle the question of the succession by means of adoption. It was with this idea that on January 22, 1806, he adopted Prince Eugene, who henceforth called himself Eugene-Napoleon, as his successor on the throne of Italy. At that time, the heir-presumptive to the throne of France was, to all appearance, Napoleon-Charles, the son of Louis Bonaparte and Hortense. But Napoleon-Charles died on June 5, 1807, when scarcely five years old. Now, on December 13, 1806, one of Napoleon’s mistresses gave birth to a son, Leon, whose imperial origin it was impossible to doubt. Napoleon therefore gave up the idea of adoption in favour of the natural succession from father to son. But from that moment divorce became a necessity. Fouché, who guessed what was in his master’s mind, had been spreading abroad the rumour of an approaching divorce since July, 1807, and even had the assurance to speak of it to Josephine herself. Napoleon silenced him, but the idea had been launched; and now the hour had struck for its execution.

The days that followed were a veritable torture for the unhappy Josephine. Up to the very end she had to play the part of Empress; and just at that precise moment there were great festivities afoot in honour of the Peace of Vienna. Napoleon suffered also. He was full of tenderness and pity for Josephine; he was moved by the memories of long years spent in common. A heartrending scene took place between husband and wife on November 30, 1809; but Napoleon did not reverse his decision. He dispensed with the formalities laid down by the Civil Code and went to work in a different fashion. On December 16, 1809, after a family council held the evening before, the Senate passed a Senatus Consultum announcing the civil divorce; and the religious separation was pronounced shortly afterwards by authority of the Metropolitan (January 12, 1810). Josephine retired to Malmaison. Her beauty, her winning charm, her wit, her gentleness, her tact and goodness of heart, had long ago obliterated the memory of her old frivolity of character and conduct. She had not proved herself unworthy of her amazing destiny. She was moreover genuinely popular; and Napoleon’s popularity, already somewhat diminished, suffered through this event.

The marriage with Marie-Louise, which had been mooted in January, 1810, and settled in February, took place at Vienna, by proxy, on March 11. The civil ceremony was repeated at Saint-Cloud on April 1; the religious, on the 12th, in the chapel of the Tuileries. Napoleon was happy and hopeful, and passed his time in a whirl of festivities. He never doubted that he would have a son. So early as February 17,1810, a Senatus Consultum proclaimed the incorporation of the Roman States with the French Empire and announced that “the Prince Imperial was to bear the title and honours of the King of Rome”.

On June 3, 1810, Napoleon proceeded to perform an act of execution. “I know”, he wrote to Fouche, “all the many services you have rendered me nevertheless it is impossible for me, without loss of self-respect, to leave you in possession of your portfolio”. By means of his agent, Fagan, formerly an English prisoner of war, and of Ouvrard the speculator, Fouché had kept up surreptitiously the intercourse with the British Cabinet which had possibly already begun at the time of the Walcheren affair. Napoleon did not know all this, and therefore still preserved a certain regard for Fouché’s susceptibilities. He was to be punished for his overbearing attitude in 1809. The letter of June 3 was couched in moderate language; and Fouché obtained by way of compensation the Governorship of Rome and the title of Minister of State (June 4). But, when a subsequent enquiry revealed the Minister’s performances in detail, the Emperor flew into a violent rage. Fouché fled, taking refuge first in Italy, and even contemplating a further flight to America; later, on his return to France, he received orders to retire to Aix in his own senatorial district (August 27), where he sought and found oblivion. His disgrace was absolute. After Talleyrand, Josephine; after Josephine, Fouché. Of these three ruptures the last was undoubtedly the most serious. Madelin, Fouché’s latest biographer, has constituted himself his apologist; and the view he holds is by no means wholly exaggerated. Fouché was, in regard to internal politics, by far the most important personage in the reign of Napoleon; and, if his fidelity, in spite of all his services, never rang quite true, the reason may have been that he was never wholly subservient. It must be admitted that no one could have contrived with more astonishing cleverness to throw an air of moderation over the work of his formidable office. He never abused his discretionary powers, and he placed under obligations men of all groups. It is not the least of the paradoxes of that time, so rich in contrasts, that the downfall of the former terrorist and atheist caused genuine regrets even in the reactionary and clerical salons of the Faubourg Saint-Germain.

Fouche’s successor was General Savary, that man of passive obedience of whom report has it that Napoleon said, “I like him; he would kill his own father if I bade him”. The story is not authentic, but its circulation throws a terrible light on Savary’s character. Henceforth, clearly, Napoleon intended everyone to bow to his will in all things. Dubois, who had so long hoped for Fouché’s place, met, soon after, with the same fate as his rival. Napoleon replaced him (October 14) by Pasquier, formerly Councillor in the Parliament of Paris, afterwards a member of the Council of State, an appointment no less characteristic than that of Savary. Pasquier came of an old royalist family. The young officials who were now entering the public service often came of the same stock. Full of pride at being the husband of an arch­duchess, Napoleon was glad to recruit his staff from the old nobility; and he never troubled himself as to whether these erstwhile royalists were sincere converts or not. The tone of the salons became reactionary, anti-revolutionary, clerical. When, finally, the aged General Pommereul had succeeded the younger Portalis in the General Censorship (January 11, 1811), when, in a last administrative shuffle, Napoleon had sent the docile Maret to the Foreign Office, while Daru took his place as Secretary of State, and Champagny fell from the exalted post of Foreign Minister into that vacated by Daru, the evolution was complete. It may be summed up in two phrases, obedience even more absolute than in the past to the Imperial authority; reaction, both aristocratic and monarchical.

This transformation was the more noteworthy in that it coincided with a vigorous renewal of the Emperor’s organising and administrative activity. It was high time : the Empire had become enormous in extent. In 1805 the annexation of Genoa had enlarged it from 626,000 square kilometres and 108 departments, to 640,000 square kilometres and 110 departments; that of Parma, Piacenza, and Tuscany (1808) to 668,000 square kilometres and 115 departments; that of Holland, the States of the Church, and Valais (1810) to 750,000 square kilometres and 131 departments. The population was estimated by Montalivet at 42,700,000 in 1812, of which total 28,700,000 were ascribed to the original France.

It will be noted that not a single Imperial institution dates from the year 1809. This is not owing to chance. There were two periods in Napoleon’s internal policy, separated from one another by a veritable gulf. From 1804 to 1808 he devoted himself to welding together and strengthening the Imperial system ; after 1809 he reorganised the method of government, but he added nothing to the existing Constitution. If we consider the establishment of the license-system (January 12, 1810), of the domaine extraordinaire (January 30), of the book censorship (February 5), of state prisons (March 3), and all the later measures, can we not sum them all up in the one word Absolutism? The State was omnipotent: its interests overrode all private interests, all civil rights, just as long ago it had suppressed all political rights. For the first time since the establishment of the Empire, Napoleon had some leisure. From 1809 to 18] 2 he resided in Paris, or in one or other of his suburban palaces, Saint-Cloud, Fontainebleau, Compiegne, or Trianon. But he was no longer as active as he had been. He began to put on flesh, and to develope a liking for good food; he dozed constantly. His pride became overweening; and, absorbed in himself, he no longer saw men or things as they were. Yet he allowed no one to do anything but himself.

The birth of the King of Rome, on March 20, 1811, raised the mental intoxication of Napoleon to a climax. The dream of his life was realised. Since November 25,1810, a Maison des Enfants de France had been in existence, its title copied textually from the ceremonial of the old French monarchy. The fetes in honour of his birth were confined to the exclusive Court circle, and had no connexion with the public festivities arranged for the people of Paris. There was no trace of popular enthusiasm; no one cared for either Marie-Louise or the King of Rome. To make his isolation complete, Napoleon, after his divorce, quarrelled with every member of his family in turn, even with the sagacious Élise, who was not allowed to come to Paris for the christening. But this state of things was by no means distasteful to the Emperor of Austria’s son-in-law, the father of the King of Rome.

In reality, the position was growing more and more disquieting. To speak only of France proper, the population was suffering sorely from the effects of the Continental System and the continued war. Commercial activity was falling off. Industry was entering upon a critical phase; and the manufacture of articles of luxury, in Paris and Lyons, was the first branch to feel the strain. The harvest of 1811 was bad. Napoleon came to the rescue in his characteristic fashion. A new Ministry of Manufactures and Trade was created in June, 1811, though it had no head until January, 1812, when Collin de Sussy was appointed to the post. A Food Commission was secretly organised, with a view to ensuring an adequate food-supply for Paris (August 20,1811). Loans were made to manufacturers, amounting to 18,000,000 francs in 1812, scarcely half of which had been repaid at the close of the Empire. The Food Commission purchased corn with a view to restocking the public granaries. Wheat rose from 72 francs (a price already above the average) to 80 francs the sack (equal to about 8 bushels). Frightened by the rise, the Commission resold, surreptitiously, at 75 francs. On this leaking out, belief in an imminent famine became general; and prices rose still further, until they reached 140 francs per sack in 1812. The Decrees of March 12, May 4 and 8, 1812, aimed at remedying this state of things, by limiting the use of grain in the distilleries, by keeping a watch over circulation and sale, and finally by fixing the maximum price at 33 francs per hectolitre, i.e. about 95 francs per sack. Napoleon was thus obliged to revert to the old device of a maximum fixed by law. The year 1812 was a year of scarcity. In Paris more than 20,000 workmen (cabinet­makers, goldsmiths, etc.) were out of employment. Nor were the other industrial centres much better off.

The economic crisis had already become acute when Napoleon set forth on the invasion of Russia (May 9, 1812). News of the expedition was as scanty as it was false, a circumstance of which Malet determined to take advantage. After being in prison for 18 months he had obtained leave to move to the “home” kept by Dr Dubuisson, at the further end of the Faubourg Saint-Antoine. There he had made acquaintance with several other political prisoners, to whom the same privilege of living under the doctor’s surveillance had been granted. Almost all of them were royalists or clericals; among them were the two Polignacs, who had conspired with Cadoudal, and the Abbé Lafon, who had been arrested for papistical intrigues. A new plot was formed with the aid of certain young men who visited the prisoners while under the doctor’s roof.

Malet remodelled the documents which had been framed in 1808, the fictitious Senatus Consultum, the list of the provisional government (to which he added the names of Montmorency, Frochot and others), and the appeal to the army. He no longer proposed to proclaim the Republic, but to grant permission to all émigrés to return to France, and to send a deputation to the Pope begging him to pardon the insults to which he had been subjected, and to pass through Paris on his way back to Rome; was this for the purpose of anointing Louis XVIII? The scheme of 1808 had, in fact, undergone so many changes that it became a question whether Malet had not turned royalist. The truth was that, for the time being, royalists and republicans had agreed to combine their efforts so far as the summoning of the Electoral Assemblies, which, Napoleon once overthrown, were to decide authoritatively, either for the reestablishment of the Republic or the restoration of Louis XVIII. Malet laid his plans with extreme care. He drew up beforehand a number of forged summonses, to which he succeeded in giving an appearance of perfect authenticity. He even arranged for a detachment to be sent to Saint-Cloud for the protection of Marie-Louise. Why then did he not succeed? Was success more improbable than the very existence of the plot?

When all was ready, Malet escaped under cover of night from Dubuisson’s home, went to a friend’s house to put on his uniform once more, and then without any other companions save two youths, presented himself at one of the barracks occupied by the National Guard (October 23, 1812). He roused the old Commandant Soulier, informed him that Napoleon had died before Moscow, and ordered him to hand over his men. Soulier obeyed. Malet took command of the troop and marched straight to La Force in order to set at liberty two generals imprisoned there, viz. La Horie, an ex-chief of staff under Moreau, and Guidal, whose intimacy with both the royalists and the English in the south had aroused suspicion. Malet recited his fairy-tale for their benefit; and they, too, obeyed in their turn. La Horie and Guidal went to the Ministry of Police, arrested Savary and put him under lock and key; after which La Horie went to the Prefecture of Police to secure the person of Pasquier, while Guidal seized Clarke at the War Office. At the Hotel de Ville Frochot was busy getting ready a hall for the reception of the provisional government. All seemed to be going perfectly when Malet himself spoilt the game. He had chosen as his own task the arrest of Hulin, commander of the Paris garrison. Hulin resisted: Malet laid him low with a pistol-shot. A tumult ensued. Two officers, suspecting the imposture, threw themselves upon Malet, recognised and denounced him. At 11 a.m. all was over. The punishment of the conspirators was vindictive. Twelve unfortunate accomplices, or rather dupes, were shot with Malet (October 29), among them Soulier, La Horie, and Guidal. It was not without some show of reason that, at the court-martial, when asked by Dejean, the president, who were his accomplices, Malet proudly replied, “You, yourself, Sir, and all France, if I had succeeded!”

This curious episode was not without its bearing upon Napoleon’s decision secretly to desert the Grand Army in its disorderly retreat from Russia, and to return to Paris, where he arrived on the evening of December 18. His reply to the address of the conservative Senate (December 20), showed that he had grasped the true meaning of the Malet conspiracy. So long as the story of Napoleon’s death was believed, Malet had no difficulty in making himself obeyed; and no one had fancied for one single instant that, if Napoleon were dead, the King of Rome would, as a matter of course, succeed. One moment had sufficed to reveal the vanity of all the precautions taken by the Emperor to place his system on an enduring basis. Without him the whole structure would collapse. “Our fathers”, he said to the Senate, “had for their rallying cry, ‘The King is dead. Long live the King!’ In these words the principal advantages of monarchy are summed up”. But the real truth was that the people had no love for either Marie-Louise or the King of Rome. They were ignored; and it was this fact which lent to the Malet affair so grave a significance.

Still possessed by his dynastic ideas, Napoleon attempted to remedy this state of things. He showed no severity towards anyone. The utmost he did was to replace Frochot by Chabrol. Instead of keeping Marie-Louise hidden behind a hedge of Court etiquette, he went abroad in her company, seizing every opportunity during the winter of 1812-3 of showing her to the Parisians, who could not fail to be charmed by her grace and simplicity. He conceived the idea of having his son crowned by the Pope in anticipation. By a Senatus Consultum, dated February 5, 1813, he established an Imperial Regency. By letters­patent in the event of the Emperors enforced absence from home, by prescriptive right in the event of his premature death, the Empress­ mother was to combine the care of her son during his minority with the Regency of the Empire, assisted by a Council of Regency composed of the Princes of the Blood, the Grand Dignitaries of the Empire, and other members appointed by the Emperor either by letters-patent or in his will. Thus vanished the ordre de service in use since the Consulate, which, in the Emperor’s absence, delegated the presidency to Cambacérès. The letters-patent of March 30, 1813, actually conferred the Regency upon Marie-Louise, with Cambacérès as her secret adviser.

Napoleon was absent from April 14 to November 9, 1813. France shuddered, less from grief over her defeats, than from moral and physical exhaustion, after so many years of oppression. Nevertheless, a still further effort was expected of her. It was felt that only some performance quite out of the common could rouse public opinion. The session of the Legislative Body, due in 1812, was not held till February and March, 1813; and it was as completely insignificant as its predecessors. By way of contrast, Napoleon determined to give great magnificence to the session of 1813. By the Senatus Consultum of November 15, 1813, he announced that the Senate and Council of State would take part collectively in the Imperial conferences of the Legislative Body. The idea of the three bodies meeting together, in a sort of national conven­tion, to listen to the words of its sovereign, was not without a certain grandeur; and it was legitimate to hope that the spectacle would make a profound impression not only upon France but upon Europe.

It is true that, by the same Senatus Consultum, the Emperor arrogated to himself the right to choose the President of the Legislative Body, thus withdrawing from the deputies their right of presentment. Regnier was selected for the presidency, though he was not a deputy but a Grand Judge. Thence resulted a general change in the Ministry, the last of the reign. Mole succeeded Regnier at the Ministry of Justice; Maret went back to the Secretaryship of State; Daru replaced Lacuée (himself the successor of Dejean) at the Ministry of Military Affairs; and Caulaincourt was installed at the Foreign Office. It was a sort of ministerial shuffle, similar to those of 1807 and 1811. Ministerial stability, which was the rule under the Consulate and during the first years of the Empire, had now become the exception.

The Imperial session took place on December 19, 1813. “Everything has turned against us”, the Emperor confessed. “No obstacle will be offered by me to the restoration of peace... It is with regret that I ask fresh sacrifices at the hands of my generous people”. By way of still more closely uniting Emperor and nation, Napoleon announced that all the original documents, now lying at the Foreign Office, relative to the recent negotiations with the Powers, would be laid before the Senate. The Decree of December 20 ordered the Senate and the Legislative Body to elect from their own ranks two commissions of five members each, to examine, with the aid of the two Presidents, the documents furnished by the Government.

In the Senate everything passed off as Napoleon hoped. The report of the Commission was approved at the sitting of December 27; and the Senate repaired in a body to the Emperor to express its gratitude and devotion. But in the Legislative Body matters turned out differently. The Commissioners, who were all southerners, naturally profited by the chance offered them to express their views. When Regnier accused one of them of making an unconstitutional remark, the deputy retorted: “I can conceive of nothing more unconstitutional than you are yourself —you who, in contempt of the law, come here to preside over the people’s representatives without even possessing the right to sit amongst them”. Here was novel language indeed! But it was even less surprising than Laine’s report. In this document the Emperor was invited, in very respectful terms, to declare that he would continue the war only “in order to preserve the independence of the French people and the integrity of French territory”. If, however, the Coalition persisted in maintaining the offensive, France would not be found wanting. “Nevertheless”, he continued, “this is not enough in itself to revive the national spirit”; and His Majesty is “implored to see to the constant and effectual execution of those laws by which liberty, personal security, and the rights of private property are assured to every Frenchman, and to the nation at large the unfettered exercise of its political rights”. Laine’s report, put to the vote on the 29th, was carried by 223 votes to 31. The division is all the more interesting from the fact that, at that time at any rate, there was no trace of opposition to the dynasty in the Legislative Body, and because the actual terms of the report had been drawn up with the assistance of the Government. The deputies, in fact, still remained loyal subjects of the Empire; they had merely put into words the passionate longing of the whole Empire for liberty and peace.

Nevertheless the report threw Napoleon into a violent passion. In spite of the counsels of moderation urged by Cambacérès, he suppressed the publication of Laine’s report; on December 31 he adjourned the Legislative Body; and at the official new year’s reception on January 1, 1814, he welcomed the deputies present with a violent outburst. “You might have done me so much good, and yet you have only done me harm! Do you represent the people? I am its representative. Four times have I been summoned by the nation; four times have I received the votes of five millions of citizens. I have a right to speak, and you have none. You are merely delegates of the departments. Your report is drawn up with an astuteness, a perfidy of intention which you do not yourselves realise. The loss of two battles in Champagne would have done less harm. Do you think by such complaints to raise the prestige of the throne? After all, what is the throne? Nothing but four pieces of gilded wood, covered with a scrap of velvet! The true throne rests on the nation’s will; and you cannot separate me from the nation without doing it harm, for the nation has greater need of me than I have of the nation. With the enemy at your very doors, you ask for institutions! As if we had no institutions already! Perhaps you want to copy the Constituent Assembly and start a revolution! You would find no resemblance whatever between me and the then king. I should abdicate at once, for I would infinitely rather take my place among the Sovereign People than remain a royal slave! Go back to your departments”. One can feel the anger that vibrated through this passionate eloquence. In truth Napoleon was a great orator, just as, judged by the evidence of certain of his letters and by his despatches, he was a great writer. His imagination was full of romanticism; and his literary style went straight to the point without the meaningless embellishments of the classical school. But on this particular occasion his speech was even more impolitic than eloquent. The deputies went back to their departments, but in quite as angry a mood as that evinced by the Emperor. The speech of January 1, 1814, marked, in fact, the rupture between Napoleon and the French middle-class.

Before returning to the front, Napoleon planned, even more carefully than the year before, the line of action to be followed in his absence. Twenty-two Senators or Councillors of State were sent, in the capacity of extraordinary commissioners, to the military districts which had not yet been invaded by the enemy, to hasten on the conscription and the organisation of the National Guard (December 26, 1813). In Paris the National Guard was mobilised (January 8, 1814). The regency was again vested in Marie-Louise, assisted by Cambacérès and King Joseph. On January 25, 1814, Napoleon left Paris; and henceforth the history of his reign is merely the record of war and invasion.

 

THE NAPOLEONIC CODES.