Metternich- The First European Page 9

  Austria had done more than join in the invasion of France. Her troops had overrun all northern and central Italy, which they now occupied, besides reinstating the Pope at Rome. Of all the Bonaparte family, only Napoleon's brother-in-law Murat remained on an Italian throne, at Naples. He had reached a secret agreement with the Allies before Leipzig, helping in the attack on French Italy; the Allies guaranteed his kingdom and promised to try to persuade the exiled Bourbons to abandon their claim to Naples, if he would recognise theirs to Sicily. Metternich was always well disposed towards an old mistress such as Caroline Murat and did his best to save the couple; they might have had a place in his plans for Italy. However, as 1814 went by, it grew increasingly obvious that post-Napoleonic Europe was not going to tolerate them. In the meantime, Austria had no other rivals in Italy and waited for the congress to confirm her position. Hopes of an independent Lombardy under a Habsburg Archduke were ill-founded. The Emperor Francis regarded the northern Italian lands as his, either by inheritance or, as in the case of Venice, by right of conquest.

  Early in June, Metternich accompanied the Tsar and the King of Prussia to England, which he had not seen since 1794. The Emperor Francis returned to Vienna. His foreign minister's object was not so much to share in the glory as to stop the Russians and Prussians from securing more support from the British government, while strengthening his own links with it and his working relationship with Castlereagh. He crossed the Channel in a frigate, to be welcomed at Dover with the honours normally given to a sovereign. At first it looked as if Tsar Alexander would carry all before him, since he had been a popular hero in Britain since the Retreat from Moscow, but he played into Metternich's hands by infuriating the Prince Regent by his arrogance and tactlessness; after a very few days, according to Creevey, Prinny was 'worn out with fuss, fatigue and rage'. The Tsar angered ministers by making a point of consulting the Opposition, though the Whigs too were disenchanted—'a vain, silly fellow' was Lord Grey's verdict. Alexander's favourite sister, the temperamental Grand Duchess Catherine, insulted the Regent to his face, threatened to vomit if music was played at banquets and called on his detested wife, Caroline of Brunswick.

  In contrast, the Austrian foreign minister endeared himself to all he met. As he put it, he was 'nearly killed' when leaving a reception at midnight by a mob shouting 'Hurrah! Prince Metternich for ever!' and thrusting their arms into his carriage to 'sheck hands' [sic]. He knew exactly how to please the Regent, investing him with the Austrian Golden Fleece; this was tact of the subtlest sort, since Wellington had been the first Protestant to receive the Spanish Golden Fleece. Metternich also brought the Regent the honorary colonelcy of an Austrian cavalry regiment, with the right to wear its white tunic and red breeches. He then piled compliment upon compliment till the delighted Regent called him 'the wisest of ministers'. The government admitted that much of what Castlereagh said in praise of Metternich seemed to be true; he was never seen with a Whig, let alone to talk politics with one. If he and the foreign secretary were able to do little work, his bravura performance deepened Castlereagh's respect.

  Metternich enjoyed himself, amused by such celebrations as a Guildhall dinner in honour of the triumph of Allied arms, and flattered by the bestowal of an honorary doctorate at Oxford. Wilhelmine de Sagan had followed him to England, although their affair was growing unhappier every day. Luckily she was invited to very few receptions, so that he could flirt with other pretty women.

  He left England early in July, visiting Paris for a brief stay with Wilhelmine. He returned to Vienna on 19 July, to a hero's welcome. Prince Palffy, once a rival for Eleanor's hand, had arranged a concert in Metternich's honour in the Ballhausplatz, with an orchestra and chorus recruited from the combined resources of the court theatre and the Wiener Theater. It began with Beethoven's Prometheus and ended with a cantata which opened, 'Hail to thee, great Prince!' The cantata's dedication spoke of 'the illustrious statesman whose insight and tireless patience, whose moderation and caution, have gained rewards of which no man would have dared to dream a year ago'. It was no more than the truth.

  9

  Rebuilding Europe, 1814-15

  If ever the powers meet again to establish a political system under which wars of conquest would be made impossible and the rights of all would be guaranteed, then the Congress of Vienna may not have been in vain in preparing the way.

  FRIEDRICH VON GENTZ

  The European policy of Metternich had taken form at a moment of general weariness after a long war; this policy was no less than an attempt to 'federalise' Europe as Germany had been 'federalised'.

  SIR LLYWELLYN WOODWARD,

  Three Studies in European Conservatism

  The Congress of Vienna is often seen as a triumph of reaction over progress. Yet if those who took part looked back to the old order of things before 1789, their overriding concern was to secure lasting peace. They succeeded and no general war broke out in Europe for a century. As Alan Sked stresses, the resulting settlement 'left no major power with a major grievance'.

  At the time, Gentz, the congress's secretary, was cynical about its motives and its effectiveness. 'The grand phrases of "reconstruction of social order", "regeneration of the political system of Europe", "a lasting peace founded on a just division of strength" and etc, were uttered to tranquilise the public and give an air of dignity and grandeur to so solemn an assembly,' he wrote in February 1815, 'but the real purpose of the congress was to divide amongst the conquerors the spoils taken from the vanquished.' He was convinced that another European war would break out within five years. Castlereagh, with a less vivid imagination, thought it would do well if it kept the peace for a decade.

  An air of almost frenzied frivolity made it hard for many observers to take the congress seriously. It opened officially on 3 November 1814 and among guests staying at the Hofburg were the Tsar, the King of Prussia, the King and Queen of Bavaria, the King of Denmark, and a host of lesser Princes. Most of the great nobles of Germany, Central Europe and Russia were in Vienna. They were celebrating the end of twenty years of war and upheaval, the like of which (so they believed) had not been seen since the Middle Ages. The Habsburg Monarchy was determined to provide suitable entertainment, to demonstrate that Vienna was the capital of Europe. The famous mot of the Prince de Ligne, 'Le Congrés danse mats il ne marche pas,' was at once taken up, passing into legend and ensuring its reputation for lighthearted pleasure.

  'Metternich swam as happily as a fish in this glittering whirlpool,' says Treitschke. His enjoyment of the festivities was noted with disapproval in certain quarters. 'He spends three-quarters of his time at dances or other entertainments,' sneered Talleyrand. Castlereagh's secretary considered him 'most intolerably loose and giddy with women'. Yet he was not the only one to enjoy himself. The British ambassador got fighting drunk more than once while Lady Castlereagh danced at a ball with her husband's garter in her hair.

  A rumour was to circulate that Metternich forfeited Austria's chance of acquiring Bavaria because he was too exhausted to attend to business after a night with Wilhelmine de Sagan. Admittedly the collapse of their affair occurred during these vital weeks; on one occasion he could speak of nothing else to Gentz and was incapable of concentrating on matters of state, yet it was an isolated instance. The ill-informed called him the 'butterfly minister', but his abandonment to pleasure during the congress has been wildly exaggerated; sometimes he worked through the night. As Treitschke puts it, 'He was not all upset by his Prussian comrades thinking him more frivolous than he really was.' Behind the festivities Metternich was fighting a ferocious diplomatic battle.

  When the talks began, he wrote to his wife (on 19 September), 'I am going to have from four to six weeks of hell.' His opponent was the Tsar, feebly seconded by the King of Prussia—in reality by Hardenberg. Gentz says that Alexander came to the congress convinced that Prince Metternich intended to thwart him on every issue; in the latter stages of the French campaign there had been 'bitter and ang
ry exchanges almost every day'. At Vienna he was to grow increasingly jealous of the foreign minister's success, political and social, to the point that irritation turned into hatred and resulted in 'daily explosions of rage and frenzy'. Metternich was forced to regard the Tsar as 'a declared enemy'.

  There were unpleasant undertones. When he arrived in October, Talleyrand reported to Louis XVIII that the German 'mediatised' Princes who had lost their lands resented the prospect of being ruled by such new masters as the Kings of Bavaria or Württemberg and would have preferred a single unified Germany. Intoxicated by Napoleon's defeat, they had become German nationalists. 'Jacobinism holds sway here, not as it did in France twenty-five years ago, in the middle and lower classes but among the highest and richest members of the nobility,' Talleyrand explained, adding that many university professors and students shared their views. 'United Germany is their slogan, their dogma; it is a religion carried to extreme fanaticism, a fanaticism which infects even reigning princes.'

  Anti-Semitism had revived. One undoubted benefit of the Napoleonic regime in Germany had been the emancipation of the Jews, who now feared that their ancient disabilities might be revived. The 'Israelites' of Frankfurt sent representatives to Vienna, Messrs Baruch and Gumprecht, to plead their case. Metternich had many Jewish acquaintances, such as Baron Eskele (the first Jew to be ennobled in Austria) and Leopold von Herz, a banker whose skills had helped to save the Monarchy. Learning that the police were about to expel Baruch and Gumprecht from Vienna, he intervened and gave them visas. Shortly afterwards, he asked all the free cities not to penalise Jews when restoring the old constitutions. Throughout the congress he tried to secure equality for them, but there was such fierce opposition that he had to defer his efforts.

  The Tsar nearly wrecked the congress. Influenced by his Polish friend Adam Czartoryski, who had accompanied him, he wanted a Russo-Polish dual monarchy with himself as King of a restored Poland. He meant to have the entire Grand Duchy of Warsaw, including its former Prussian provinces; Prussia was to be compensated with Saxony. But although he had half a million men in Poland, his bargaining position was weaker than he realized; Austria had secured all the territory she coveted, Britain had regained Hanover. If Metternich was ready to see a Polish kingdom in the east, he would never accept a revival of the old western frontiers under a Russian ruler who could threaten Mitteleuropa. Castlereagh agreed with him.

  Castlereagh reminded Alexander of the Treaty of Reichenbach in 1813, when Russia had agreed to divide the Grand Duchy with Prussia and Austria, but made no impression. He had even less success in urging the restoration of a fully independent Poland. Talleyrand, trying to divide the Allies, goaded the Tsar into shouting, 'I will go to war rather than surrender what is mine!' The Frenchman argued that the only legitimate states were those whose monarch's claim to his throne was beyond question; accordingly, Saxony was inviolable. Metternich recognised an ally, of sorts, besides appropriating Talleyrand's theory of legitimacy. Alexander was unmoved. It was the Congress's most dangerous moment.

  On 22 October Metternich informed Hardenberg that Austria would not oppose Prussia's annexation of Saxony if Russia was resisted over Poland. With his agreement he presented Alexander with an ultimatum demanding a public debate. The enraged Tsar threw his sword on the table and challenged Metternich to a duel, shouting, 'You're the only man in Austria who dares speak rebelliously to me!' The situation had to be defused by the Emperor Francis, who explained to Alexander 'how very strange such a proceeding would seem'. Frederick William ordered Hardenberg to make no more separate agreements with Austria or Britain.

  In a series of intricate manoeuvres Metternich widened the gap between Prussia and Russia, attracting support from smaller German states such as Bavaria, who were fearful of suffering Saxony's fate. Aware that he was being outmanoeuvred, Hardenberg became infuriated; in December he threatened to declare war, hastily withdrawing the threat in the face of Castlereagh's icy disapproval. Then, unexpectedly, Alexander's mood changed from sabrerattling to mild benevolence.

  The settlement of the Polish and Saxon question finally agreed by the congress in the second week of February 1815 accepted the division of Poland first suggested in the Treaty of Reichenbach, Russia securing the centre and east, the remainder being shared between Prussia and Austria; Austria obtained Galicia while Cracow became a free city. Against all odds, the Kingdom of Saxony survived, keeping two-fifths of its territory. Prussia was compensated with Westphalia and a large part of the Rhineland, to establish a bulwark against the French. Some historians give Talleyrand the credit for breaking the impasse, but in reality it was a triumph for Metternich diplomacy—even if Castlereagh contributed.

  Castlereagh returned to London. The mutual understanding between the British foreign secretary and the Austrian foreign minister had continued, and while their objectives may have been slightly different they were never at serious variance. Metternich also got on well with the Duke of Wellington, who took Castlereagh's place.

  The congress still had much to settle, especially in Italy, the outstanding problem being Murat. Louis XVIII, anxious for his Bourbon cousins to regain their Neapolitan throne, was exasperated by Metternich's predilection for Caroline Murat; he compared the Emperor Francis to Mark Anthony, grumbling that at least the latter had been ruled by his own mistress and not by a mistress of his minister. But Murat antagonised the Austrians with inept attempts to stir up trouble in northern Italy and an ill-concealed plan of conquering the entire peninsula. By the end of 1814 Metternich and Wellington had agreed that he had no right to his throne and to get rid of him at the earliest opportunity.

  There was a rude interruption. Metternich's account has often been given, but is worth repeating. He went to bed at 4.00 a.m. on 7 March, after a long conference, leaving instructions that he was not to be disturbed. However, a servant woke him at 6.00 a.m. with a despatch from the Austrian consul at Genoa marked URGENT. He tried to go back to sleep but, failing, opened it at 7.30 a.m. The despatch informed him that Napoleon had disappeared from Elba. In less than half an hour he was with the Emperor Francis, who instructed him to tell the Tsar and the Prussian King without delay that he was ready to order the Austrian army to march back to France. Before 8.30 a.m. Metternich received similar assurances from these two sovereigns. (The Tsar, on whom he had not called for three months, insisted on embracing him and promised to forget any previous differences.) Metternich records, not without satisfaction, M de Talleyrand's prophecy, 'He [Napoleon] is going to land somewhere on the Italian coast and go directly to Switzerland'—to which Metternich had retorted that Napoleon would make straight for Paris.

  In Metternich's words, 'The Hundred Days were only an episode.' Yet at the time he was not so confident. By 20 March Napoleon was back at the Tuileries with an army far more formidable than it had been in 1814. Even if he were beaten, it was by no means certain that the Bourbons could be restored. Metternich contacted Fouché, the Emperor's Minister of Police, suggesting that the Allies might accept a regency for Napoleon's son if his father would leave France. But there was no way of getting rid of the French Emperor without war.

  During this trying period Metternich nonetheless found time to tease Gentz, who had very little sense of humour. The latter was drinking his morning coffee when a poster printed in French arrived—Napoleon was offering 10,000 ducats in gold to anyone who apprehended Friedrich von Gentz, or could prove he had killed him. Gentz was prostrate with terror until he realized that it was 1 April.

  Metternich insisted that the congress must continue. In Italy Austria's possession of Milan and Venice was confirmed, as was Marie Louise's right to Parma. A Habsburg Grand Duke was restored in Tuscany, a Habsburg Duke in Modena. Joachim Murat solved the problem of Naples by attempting to invade northern Italy and meeting with total defeat at Tolentino in May; he fled into exile, returning to be court-martialled and shot, and the Neapolitan Bourbons regained their mainland realm. The Kingdom of Piedmont was given Genoa, in
the hope that it would become a bulwark against French aggression.

  Metternich's provision for Napoleon's Empress was both ingenious and delicate. Although Parma had been promised to Marie Louise in the Treaty of Fontainebleau, the head of its former ruling family, the Bourbon-Parma, possessed an undeniable claim to be legitimate Duke; Metternich fobbed him off with the minuscule Duchy of Lucca until her death. He ensured that there would be no question of her son inheriting Parma, let alone of Napoleon joining her, by appointing the dashing General von Neipperg, a noted lady-killer, as master of her household with instructions to use 'any means whatever' to stop her seeing her husband—in effect to seduce her. Neipperg obeyed his orders so zealously that she married him when Napoleon died. Until Marie Louise's death Parma remained a Habsburg bastion.

  The last business to be concluded was the structure of the new Germanic confederation. Austria and Prussia were among the thirty-eight members of a loose league of kingdoms, duchies and free cities, whose only link was the federal Diet. Metternich saw no object in reviving the Holy Roman Empire, since the Emperor would have had little authority. The small, independent states of the confederation would live in fear of Prussian absorption or French invasion and look to Austria.

  Metternich presided over the official closure of the congress on 9 June. One reason for its success had been his exceptionally able staff. Gentz had proved a tireless and resourceful secretary, while diplomats such as Josef von Hudelist, Franz von Binder and Johann von Wessenberg (the 'worker bee') were invaluable, as was the military adviser, General Radetzky—Schwarzenberg's chief of staff. Public relations were well organised by Josef-Anton von Pilat, once the foreign minister's secretary but now editor of the Österreichischer Beobachter.