Alexander I- the Tsar Who Defeated Napoleon

by Marie-Pierre Rey

  The king of Prussia quickly replied favorably to Alexander’s offer. While France had just refused to recognize the neutrality of Silesia and to pay Prussia an indemnity of 94 million francs for supplies delivered to the Grande Armée in 1812, the king decided to embark on a military alliance with Russia. Concluded on February 28, 1813, at Kalisch, where Alexander and his general staff were located and reinforced by the Breslau convention signed on March 7, the bilateral alliance called for 150,000 Russians and 80,000 Prussians to be mobilized against France, and it banned any separate peace. The same day as this convention Prussia declared war on France, and in April the new alliance received the financial support of two million pounds sterling from Great Britain. But the new alliance’s military debut was not impressive: although part of the Grande Armée was stuck in Spain and although, in order to compensate for the gigantic losses in the Russian campaign, Napoleon had to resort to veterans and to hastily trained young soldiers, the French emperor had two successive victories (Lützen on May 2 and Bautzen on May 20). Kutuzov’s death occurred on April 28, and his replacement by General Ludwig Wittgenstein (who did not manage to galvanize his troops) contributed to these reversals for the Russo-Prussian armies. Stunned by these defeats, Wittgenstein asked to be relieved of his post, and Alexander decided to recall Barclay de Tolly as commander in chief. Now leading the fight on foreign territory and directing a multinational army, in 1813 Barclay’s Lithuanian origins were no longer a handicap but an advantage.

  At the end of May, given the intervention of Austria allied with France since Marie Louise had married Napoleon, the Russo-Prussians solicited an armistice whose principle Napoleon accepted: on both sides, there was a desire to gain some time to reorganize troops. After difficult negotiations, conducted on the Russian side by the young Count Nesselrode, on the Prussian side by General Kleist, and on the French side by Armand de Caulaincourt, the cease-fire was concluded on June 4, to last for six weeks hence, but then prolonged until August 10, which proved crucial for the coalition. In this interval the Austrian government switched to the Russo-Prussian side. It had long hesitated because Metternich distrusted Russian ambitions in Poland and the Balkans, and he was on record as favorable to maintaining a France able to serve as counterweight; thus he aspired to find a diplomatic solution to the conflict that might enable the Napoleonic dynasty to be maintained. As Joseph de Maistre stressed with caustic wit: “Austria has delivered a princess and wanted, now that the shame was drunk (in the common expression) to maintain at least this mixed blood on the throne of France whose possession might accommodate many things.”10 But Napoleon’s refusal to accept Austria’s mediation and to negotiate a peace acceptable to all, the French defeat at the hands of Wellington at Vitoria in Spain, and finally the machinations of Grand Duchess Catherine, who in Bohemia maneuvered Metternich at her brother’s request to bring him to the common cause,11 all convinced the chancellor to rejoin the new coalition in gestation. On June 27, 1813, at Alexander’s headquarters in Reichenbach, the Russian, Austrian, and Prussian governments signed an alliance treaty that set three objectives: restoring Prussia and Austria’s possessions, giving German states their independence, and dissolving the duchy of Warsaw. Armed with this document, Austria declared war on France on August 12, but once again, the coalition’s first engagements (which aligned 484,000 men against 280,000 Napoleonic soldiers) were failures, and on August 26 and 27 the allies suffered a new defeat, losing 30,000 men by trying in vain to retake Dresden from Napoleon.12 In the allied ranks immense worry undermined the brand-new coalition: deeply alarmed by the breadth of the defeats, Frederick-Wilhelm III and Emperor Franz I envisaged abandoning the fight, and only Alexander, although shaken by the successive fiascos, did not give up. His determination paid off: on August 30 in Kulm, faced with 32,000 soldiers of the French marshal Vandamme (who was captured in the battle), the 54,000 coalition soldiers led by Barclay de Tolly were victorious. Encouraged by this success, the three powers signed the Treaty of Töplitz on September 9, 1813. On the military level they promised to each supply 150,000 men and (of course) to refuse any separate peace. On the political level they said they were favorable to the restoration of the independent German states, to the dissolution of the Rhine Confederation, and to negotiations over the future of the duchy of Warsaw. Shortly after, Bernadotte, who feared losing the throne of Sweden, in turn joined the coalition, which now was assured numerical superiority: 490,000 men might now face the 440,000 that Napoleon would be able to muster.13

  Each of the two parties aspired to a decisive battle, and it took place in Leipzig from October 16 to 19, 1813. At the start of the engagement, the battle opposed 220,000 coalition soldiers and 175,000 Napoleonic, but from the first day the losses were heavy (40,000 killed or wounded among the former and 30,000 among the Grande Armée). To make up these losses, reinforcements arrived during the night of the seventeenth—15,000 for the French and 110,000 for the allies. The figures speak for themselves; the balance swung to the coalition. Led by Prince Schwarzenberg, the “battle of nations,” which cost the lives of 65,000 men of the Grande Armée14 and 54,000 within the coalition, signaled the end of the French presence in Germany. This was a dual success for the tsar: by beginning to push the French back to the Rhine, he had achieved his first objective, assuring the security of the empire’s borders; and by taking part in operations (he himself directed a Cossack attack on French cavalrymen), Alexander got rid of the traumatic memory of Austerlitz. Still, far from attributing to himself the merit of this success, he again saw the intervention of Providence in his favor, as shown by his letter to Golitsyn on October 21 (O.S.):

  Almighty God has granted us a striking victory over the famous Napoleon, after a battle of four days under the walls of Leipzig. The Supreme Being15 has proved that before Him nothing is strong, nothing is great here below except what He wants to raise. Twenty-seven generals, almost 300 cannon and 37,000 prisoners are the results of these memorable days! And here we are at two days march from Frankfurt!16

  After his decisive victory, the coalition paradoxically gave signs of deep differences. Neither the Austrians nor the Prussians envisaged launching military operations on French territory, while for the tsar the need to finish with Napoleon demanded that he pursue the combat there. Alexander’s stubbornness finally overcame these hesitations, since the Austrians and Prussians did not want to let the Russian troops enter France alone and draw the benefits of this final stage in the struggle against Napoleon. Moreover, the coalition powers were being greatly assisted by the British government that in February 1814 delegated its foreign affairs secretary, Viscount Lord Castlereagh, to the allied powers in order to bring them new financial support and to push them to continue the offensive.

  On the eve of the campaign in France, the tsar addressed a solemn proclamation to his soldiers: despite the suffering of his army and his people and in order to serve his image as much as his convictions, he preached moderation and Christian charity as regards the French enemy. Doing so, he already delivered a key to his future behavior in France, i.e., his desire to give both public and elite opinion in Europe the image of a Russian nation that was “policed,” meaning civilized, far from the barbarity that had been caricatured by Napoleon’s propaganda throughout the conflict:

  Warriors! Your valor has led you from the banks of the Oka to the banks of the Rhine. […] Penetrating into the interior of our empire, the enemy that we fight today caused great disasters; but a terrible punishment has fallen on his head. […] The wrath of God has burst on our enemies. […] Let us not imitate them; forget what they have done to us. Let us carry into France, not resentment and vengeance, but a hand held out in peace. The glory of the Russian is to vanquish the enemy that attacks him, and to treat the disarmed enemy as a brother. Our revered faith teaches us, by the very mouth of God, to love our enemies, to do good to those who hate us. Warriors! I am convinced that by the moderation of your conduct in this enemy land that we are going to enter, you will kn
ow how to vanquish as much by the grandeur of soul as by the force of arms, and that by uniting to the valor of the warrior the humanity of the Christian, you will put the seal on your great actions, by conserving the renown that they have acquired for you as a valiant and policed nation. I am also persuaded that your generals will neglect no means to maintain the spotless honor of our arms.17

  Between December 21, 1813, and January 1, 1814, the coalition troops crossed the Rhine from Coblenz to Basel. But the campaign in France began with new French victories: in the first weeks the Napoleonic armies, although weak in numbers, had a dozen victories in the first 14 engagements. This bespeaks how much French resistance in the face of the invaders was courageous and desperate in its turn. The unexpected scope of this resistance soon caused doubts within the uneasy coalition. Both Frederick-Wilhelm II and Franz I, fearing that war might trigger in France a resurgence of the revolution and combative spirit of Valmy18 (on January 31, 1814, Napoleon called for a general mobilization of the French people), said they were ready to negotiate. Once again, Alexander’s obstinate refusal to accept any compromise with the enemy and Castlereagh’s intervention made them change their minds. The British minister pushed for the allies to sign the protocol of Langres, which called for the return of France to its 1792 borders. In March at Chaumont yet another treaty strengthened the coalition with a new defensive alliance for a duration of 20 years; again, there was no question of negotiations or a separate peace. Each signatory country had to supply a contingent of at least 150,000 men for the anti-Napoleon struggle. A series of victories garnered during March would decide Napoleon’s fate; the last negotiations failed, and Paris capitulated on March 30. On April 6, the emperor of the French abdicated, and on April 11 he signed the Treaty of Fontainebleau, which exiled him to the island of Elba. The armistice was signed on April 23.

  Alexander I proved generous, both with respect to the defeated emperor and his relatives; in effect, he was able to impose on his allies, who were demanding more severity, conditions that were relatively merciful. Apart from being ceded the island of Elba, of which he was now the sovereign, Napoleon was given an annual pension of two million francs and the right to keep a guard of five hundred men. Josephine was authorized to keep her title of empress, with significant financial support since she obtained a pension of a million francs and was authorized to keep the ownership of all her property. Hortense, separated from Louis Bonaparte, received 400,000 francs to support herself and her children (including the future Napoleon III). This magnanimity toward the defeated might seem surprising, given how long and how bitter the struggle between the two emperors had been. In reality, it can be understood only if one takes into account not only the political and diplomatic codes then in use but also the psychological and religious evolution of Alexander I.

  •••

  Throughout 1813 Alexander on campaign had bolstered his faith by contact with close friends in whom he confided, as well as with simple soldiers. In a letter to Rodion Koshelev on February 6, written in Polotsk, he talked about his faith and his trust in God:

  Address your prayers to the Supreme Being, to our Savior, and to the Holy Spirit that emanates from them, for them to guide me, making me firm in the sole path that leads to Salvation, and give me the faculties necessary to achieve my public task, by making my country happy, but not in the vulgar sense. It is in the advancing of the true reign of Jesus Christ that I place all my glory.19

  In February he wrote to Golitsyn, minister of worship and head of the Holy Synod, that he accepted “with pleasure a place among members of the Biblic Society,”20 in order to increase his knowledge of the Holy Book. But he was also more sensitive to the spirituality of humble people, which he saw as the expression of the most authentic faith and the reflection of Russian identity. On March 10, while at the head of his armies proceeding west, the emperor wrote to Golitsyn:

  You already know of the occupation of Berlin. Glory to the Almighty!

  I do my prayers, and many soldiers with me. We listen to prayers together. Our divine service goes admirably. I have succeeded in what I desired and our regimental musicians sing so well as not to yield to the Court cantors. This mass of people praying together with fervor and unction is truly edifying, and my heart is fully warmed.21

  A few days later, on March 13, he continued: “I have just said my prayers. I have never said them with the feeling I had this time.”22

  On April 29, when he had just entered Dresden, where he celebrated Russian Easter amid his troops, a wave of spiritual emotion overcame him as a new military trial awaited him:

  A thousand thanks, my dear friend, for your letter on Easter. It is from the bottom of my heart that I respond: “In truth he is arisen!” And Praise God that this not be a vain expression!

  It is Saturday after mass that we have made our entry into Dresden, and at midnight we have sung the Easter hymn on the banks of the Elba. It would be difficult for me to express to you the emotion that penetrated me thinking about all that has happened in the last year, and where Divine Providence has led us.

  Yet alongside these sensations of pleasure and gratitude toward our Savior, we are preparing with submission for a difficult ordeal.23

  This new faith, far from being limited to the private sphere, would rapidly influence the tsar’s diplomatic plans. In the manifesto he proclaimed on March 12, 1813, in Kalisch, Alexander was enjoying hoping for a new era when international treaties would be respected “with that religious faith, that sacred inviolability which the consideration, strength, and conservation of empires depend on,”24 thus echoing what he had declared in December 1812 to the Countess of Choiseul-Gouffier:

  Why, the emperor said, would do not all the sovereigns and nations of Europe agree among themselves to love and live as brothers, by helping each other in their reciprocal needs? Trade would become the general good of this great society whose members, no doubt, would have different religions, but the spirit of tolerance would unite all faiths. I believe it little matters to the Almighty whether he is invoked in Greek or in Latin, provided that we fulfill all our duties to Him and we satisfy those duties of honest men. It is not always long prayers that touch the most.25

  From the end of 1812, we can pinpoint the origin of the Holy Alliance project; it is with this mentality that the tsar would make his entry into Paris.

  On the night of March 30, 1814, the Paris police chief and the mayor of the city went to Bondy, where the headquarters of the allied armies was located, to negotiate the capitulation of Paris. In his first declaration to the representatives of the French authorities, Alexander I took care to distinguish between the guilt of Napoleon and the innocence of the French people. And doing so, he delivered a skillful political lesson:

  The fortunes of war have led me here; your emperor who was my ally deceived me three times. He came to the heart of my country and brought evils whose traces will last a long time. A just defense has brought me here, and I am far from wanting to render to France the evils I have received from her. I am fair, I know that it was not the sin of the French. The French are my friends, I want to prove to them that I came to render good for evil. Napoleon is my sole enemy.26

  In the spirit of this declaration, Alexander promised to protect the city, to billet there only elite troops as troops of occupation, to maintain the Parisian national guard of 40,000 men in arms. He exhorted the French to adopt a government “that gives you rest and gives it to Europe.”27 From his entry into the French capital, then, he displayed extraordinary moderation, while the Russian empire with its 55 million inhabitants and the most numerous army in Europe, was then extremely powerful.

  The next day at 10:00 in the morning, under an unpropitious sky, Alexander entered Paris at the head of the allied armies. He rode his grey mare Eclipse that Napoleon had given him at Erfurt, with the king of Prussia on his left and General Schwarzenberg on his right, representing the emperor of Austria. For almost five hours, coalition troops paraded before the inh
abitants of the capital, astounded at the sight of regiments of Cossacks with their sheepskins and lances and Bashkir soldiers armed with bows and arrows. Through his youth, charm, and benevolence, the tsar immediately conquered the jubilant crowd, who pressed to admire the victor as he passed:

  Despite the regularity and delicacy of his features, the freshness of his complexion, his beauty was less striking at first sight than was his air of benevolence that captivated all hearts; from the first movement he inspired trust. His noble height, elevated and majestic, often gracefully bowing as in the pose of ancient statues, was portending portliness, but he was perfectly well made. He had a lively and spiritual look with sky-blue eyes; he was a little short-sighted, but his eyes smiled, if one may use that expression about his gentle gaze. His nose was straight and well formed, his mouth small and attractive; his whole round figure as well as his profile much recalled that of his beautiful and august mother.28

  His benevolent attitude baffled those, like the French poet Chateaubriand, who were expecting a cruel and deserved punishment of the enemy who had subjected his people to so much suffering and territorial sacking.

  The emperor of Russia and the king of Prussia were at the head of their troops. I saw them parade along the boulevards. I felt stupefied and overwhelmed, as if they had torn the name of Frenchman from me to substitute a number by which I would be known in the mines of Siberia, at the same time I felt my exasperation grow against the man whose glory had reduced us to this shame.

  However, this first invasion by the allies remains unparalleled in the annals of the world: order, peace and moderation reigned everywhere; the shops re-opened; the Russian soldiers of the guard, six feet tall, were piloted through the streets by small French rascals who made fun of them, like puppets and masks in a carnival. The vanquished could be taken for the victors, who trembled with their success and seemed to excuse themselves for it.29