The
Peace of Amiens lasted just over a year, from March 1802 until May 1803 when
Britain declared war again on France.
Joseph Bonaparte, the First Consul's brother, and Lord Charles
Cornwallis, Marquess Cornwallis--the same Cornwallis who had fought the
Americans in their Revolutionary War--had signed the treaty after months of
negotiations, which had started the previous November, with a truce having been
set in October 1801. Looking back, the
treaty seemed doomed at the start.
The
treaty had no trade terms, the King of England gave up his hereditary claim to
the French throne, and France kept all conquests made since 1793, giving up
only its claims to the Papal States, Egypt, and the Kingdom of Naples. This left French troops occupying North
Italy, Germany, and the Netherlands.
Bonaparte also made no secret of his desire for France to continue
expansion. However, in the spring of
1802, many in England choose to see the one bright thing about such a peace--it
opened Paris to them again.
According
to The Age of Napoleon, by J. Christopher Herold, "By September
1802, there were about ten thousand Englishmen in Paris alone. The social scene was more brilliant than it
had been during the last years of the old regime. The great salons, including the celebrated
one of Madam Récamier, were open to the more distinguished of the English
visitors, and such new and dazzling places of entertainment as the Tivoli and
Frascati's were open to all who wanted to see them."
At
about this time, Francis W. Blagdon made a bold trip to Paris, crossing as soon
as a truce had been announced and he could get a passport. His letters, collected in Paris As it Was
as it Is, provide a look at the city and what he remembered of it from
pre-Revolutionary days. He writes of
Paris, "What a charming abode is Paris, for a man who can afford to live
at the rate of a thousand or fifteen hundred pounds a year!" He exclaimed over the beauty of the Tivoli
gardens, and wrote, "...at Frascati, you may, in that gay season,
eat ices as good as those with which Cardinal de Bernis used to regale his
visiters...."
He
also notes, "The houses of the great are difficult of access, and
those of the secondary class scarcely open with more ease than they did before
the revolution. If proper attention be paid to all the letters which a stranger
brings, he may be satisfied; though the persons to whom he is recommended,
seldom think of taking him to the residence of any of their friends. Therefore,
an English traveller, who wishes to mix much in French society, should provide
himself with as many letters of recommendation as he can possibly obtain;
unless, indeed, he has a celebrated name...."
For those who were
happy with lesser amusements, the peace opened up the opportunity to see the
early "aeronauts."
Andre-Jacques
Garnerin, his wife Jeanne-Genevieve, and his niece Elisa performed balloon
ascents and parachute descents in the Jardin de Tivoli.
But quite the most
popular attraction had to be Bonaparte, who had himself proclaimed First Consul
for life, and held court at the Tuileries Palace. "It was an impressive spectacle to see
him in his gold-embroidered uniform of state walk briskly through the two ranks
of guests, stopping here and there to ask a few brusque questions as if the
visitors were so many generals," writes Herold.
Many
admired Bonaparte. While he had done
away with the egalitarian "Citizen" and "Citizeness" forms
of address, he had also stopped the Revolution's bloody madness, which had
spiraled out of control, taking the lives of aristocrats and
revolutionaries. Bonaparte had begun
public works, including that of renewing construction of the Louver in 1803,
which had been opened by the Revolutionaries in 1793 as a public museum to
display works 'liberated' from royal collections. His plans for Paris included new roads,
canals, buildings, and laws, such as the Civil Code or Code Napoleon. But while Bonaparte brought structure, he
also took away liberties. The press came
under his direct control, and his code took any many of the rights women had
gained under the Revolution. (It is said
that he once told Madame de Stäle, "Women should stick to knitting." He believed a man should rule his home, and
he should rule France.)
Like
many liberal English Whigs, Charles Fox thought of Bonaparte as a man who could
keep the freedoms France had gained under her Revolution and still keep
order. Fox arrived in August 1802 with
his wife to visit Lord and Lady Holland, who had traveled abroad due to a
doctor's recommendations for their eldest son's health.
"The
Hollands had found many old friends upon their arrival in Paris. Lafayette, Talleyrand, Madam de
Flahault...Madame de Coigny, M. de Jaucourt, Gallois, Morellet, Rumford,
Calonne and Bertrand, were amongst the number," writes the Earl of
Ilchester in The Home of the Hollands: 1605 - 1820. "They had seen the First Consul at a
parade on the day after their arrival, but only in the distance. Lady Holland then likened him to 'Kemble in
Minature'."
The
comparison of Bonaparte to a famous actor was apt. Bonaparte knew the importance of performances
and public displays. Each month, he
reviewed the troops on the fifteenth, and he looked for any reason for military
parades.
After
meeting Bonaparte, Lord Holland wrote of the man, "Bonaparte seems to
govern entirely by himself, and considers his Ministers and men of business
merely as clerks. He is
undoubtedly impatient of contradiction, to a degree amounting not only to a
blemish in his moral character, but to a weakness in his understanding. In every other respect, however little one
may approve, every one must admire him.
The Republicans who raised him, and the friends of rational liberty who
first produced and afterwards suffered by the Revolution, are clearly the two
descriptions of persons most dreaded and disliked by the Consul. He adopts the principals of the old
Government in many respects, but he certainly has the advantage of not having
his power necessarily connected with the restoration of feudal laws and all the
abuses which they had produced..."
Bonaparte
took on the trappings of royalty that suited him, and he ruled as he saw
fit. And the contrast between a First
Consul who spoke of peace and yet prepared for war lent Paris an edge of
excitement.
Along
with new roads and buildings and its salons, Paris was a city of troops and
spies. Not everyone loved their First
Consul. There had been one plot in 1800
with an explosion set in the Rue St. Nicaise that had failed to kill
Bonaparte.
Other plots continued. Royalists wanted to restore the monarchy,
republicans who felt betrayed by Bonaparte's dictatorship looked for their
chance to eliminate the man, and jealous generals who had watched Bonaparte's
rise through the ranks sought their own opportunity to rule in his stead. Bonaparte knew he had enemies, and he
intended to always be one step ahead of them, with his police and those few
advisors he trusted. He dealt with the
extremists of the Revolution, with uprisings in France, and with the royalist
Chouans all with the same brutal, quick military action to kill
opposition. Literally.
In
Holland and the Netherlands, travelers saw the scars of war. In Paris, royal palaces lay empty, stripped
bare, or had been converted into hotels and mansions for the new elite. The Palais-Royal, built for Cardinal
Richelieu and then made a palace for royalty, had already been converted into a
series of shops by Philippe, the Duc d'Orléans.
Gambling houses and brothels thrived here. The Place de Grève, next to Paris's City
hall, the Hôtel de Ville, was the traditional spot for executions, and a
guillotine continued in use here until 1830.
But it was the Place de Concorde where the king and queen had lost their
heads to Madame Guillotine, and where, it was said, the stench of blood had
been so strong that cows refused to cross the square. Despite the French police, Paris had its
share of pickpocket's and thieves as well.
Still,
the mood of English visitors was to enjoy the moment, not to find problems or
bring up unpleasant history.
Far
better to mingle in a fashionable Paris café with dashing French soldiers and
charming French women who still considered themselves liberated by the
Revolution. Or to bribe one's way into
the First Consul's reception to glimpse the famous man and his generals. Or to be daring and risk the latest discovery
and current rage and have one's child vaccinated.
Blagdon
writes of attending plays by Molière, and notes, "The thèâtre des arts or grand
French opera, the opera buffa or Italian comic opera, the théâtre
Feydeau or French comic opera, and the théâtre Français, chiefly
engage my attention."
Bladgon
goes on to give the direction for diverse entertainment, including:
Théâtre des
Arts, Rue de la Loi
Bal masqué de
l'Opéra, Rue de la Loi
Bal du Sallon
des Étrangers, Rue Grange Batelière
Soirées
amusantes de l'Hôtel Longueville, Place du Carrousel
Phantasmagorie
de Robertson, Cour des Capucines
Tivoli, Rue de
Clichy, S.
Frascati, Rue
de la Loi, S.
Cabinet de
démonstration de Physiologie et de Pathologie, au
Palais du Tribunat, No. 38, au
premier
Madam
"Josephine" Bonaparte ruled as well, and her taste set the fashion,
with her aristocratic breeding, her charm and elegance. She was not thought beautiful by all,
however. Lady Holland wrote of her after
being presented, "Her figure and tournure are perfect, her taste in
dress exquisite, but her face ! ghastly, deep furrows on each side of her
mouth, fallen in cheeks, shocking, disgusting, a worn-out hag, prematurely
gone, as she is not above 40 years old."
Perhaps
Madame Bonaparte worried for her future.
She had been born Marie Josèphe Rose Tascher
de la Pagerie. She was a widow,
older than Bonaparte, with two children and extravagant tastes. Her affairs with other men after becoming
Madame Bonaparte nearly led to divorce in 1799, and marked a change between her
and her husband. But she also had
assets--tact that Bonaparte lacked, aristocratic blood and connections, and
Bonaparte in some measure considered her his good luck charm.
Beyond
the social scene, the main attraction of Paris, for the English who had lived
under blockades and lack of trade goods for years, had to be the shopping.
Lord
Holland wrote, "The sums expended on dress are quite incredible, and the
richness of the shops in those articles, as well as in furniture, exceeds not
only all description we have ever heard in England but anything the most
expensive persons there can imagine."
As
spring faded into summer in 1802, however, news turned troubling.
In
August, Bonaparte put down an uprising in Switzerland. Reports filtered back of atrocities committed
there by French troops. Bonaparte then
went on to annex Piedmont. To quell
revolts in French-held Haiti, Bonaparte ordered the re-institution of
slavery--this less than a year after he had given freedom to all slaves in St.
Domingo.
These
actions did not violate the treaty, but they gave Britain an excuse to be
nervous and put off its evacuation of Malta, its Mediterranean port.
Many
began to believe that while Bonaparte spoke of peace and freedom, his continued
military actions made it impossible to believe his words. English opinion turned against him. Criticism of the peace and its terms grew
louder in the English Parliament and in the English Press. The Prime Minister, Addington, came under
attack. The great navel hero Nelson even
criticized peacetime cuts in England's greatest defense, her fleet. Caricaturists such as James Gillray continued
to savage Bonaparte for his attacks on other nations; Bonaparte responded by
banning English papers in France.
In
November, Lord Whitworth went to Paris as the English Ambassador to speak with
Bonaparte about his actions.
But
while Bonaparte had ordered the French fleet to be expanded to sixty-six ships
of the line, he made no move to war. And
so, at the end of 1802, the English stayed in Paris, enjoying the delights,
still shopping and indulging, and putting off tomorrow for another day.
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