by Alan Palmer
Yet in London the news of the Tilsit meeting caused little consternation. Newspapers and periodicals which had lavished excessive praise on the Tsar in the early months of the Third Coalition found it expedient to condemn him as a dupe of the French, ‘weak and thoughtless’ and ‘fundamentally devoid of principle’, but among the English Tories there was a measure of understanding for Alexander’s dilemma after Friedland.3 George Canning, who had become Foreign Secretary in the new Portland Ministry in March 1807, admitted privately that he could not blame the Tsar for seeking to end a struggle in which his British ally had brought him so little assistance or encouragement.4 No member of the British Government believed Tilsit to be a final settlement of Europe’s affairs and most public figures would have agreed with Metternich that Franco-Russian friendship would not survive long. Eventually, it was felt, the Russians would come back into the war on the side of the righteous; and meanwhile it was essential for the British to discover the true nature of the commitments assumed in Tilsit and to frustrate French intentions in the Baltic.
The British had some grounds for their high hopes. Budberg returned from Tilsit still nominally in charge of Russia’s foreign relations and, in conversations with the British ambassador, he went out of his way to minimize the extent of his country’s commitments to the French. The settlement, he told the ambassador, ‘must be considered as a momentary respite and by no means as affording any prospect of permanent tranquillity’; and he added the significant explanation, ‘We must employ this moment of repose in preparing the means of resistance against another attack.’5 A similar impression was received by Sir Robert Wilson, a young British General attached to the Russian army during the campaign in Prussia who now found himself feted in every salon in the Russian capital. So convinced was Wilson of the basic goodwill at the Russian Court that he hurried back to London early in September in order to reassure Canning of Alexander’s intentions.6 He had dined at the Tsar’s table and heard for himself the generous feelings of the Russians for everything English. Even the British expedition to seize the Danish fleet need not necessarily lead to a rupture. Canning, though impressed by Wilson’s pleading, remained sceptical. He was sure that Alexander had no wish for a breach with Britain so long as Admiral Senyavin’s vessels – Russia’s finest naval squadron – were still sailing back painfully slowly from the Adriatic to the Baltic; but it was an open question what would happen if Senyavin sought protection from the French. British policy was acutely sensitive in the balance of sea-power.
Alexander’s Throne in Danger?
Until the middle of September Alexander hesitated to commit himself openly to the French cause. At the end of July he had personally welcomed to St Petersburg General Savary, whom Napoleon sent as an envoy pending the formal resumption of diplomatic relations. Alexander showered courtesies on Savary, entertaining him privately at Kamennoi Ostrov where life was more relaxed than in the greater palaces of the capital. Savary dutifully reported to Paris all Alexander’s fine words, his willingness to act against England without prompting from Napoleon, his happy memories of Tilsit, his hope that he might one day visit Paris as guest of the Emperor of the French. ‘I shall never forget the tokens of friendship afforded me by the Emperor Napoleon’, Alexander declared, ‘The more I think of them, the more happy I am to have known him. What an extraordinary man!’7 But honesty compelled Savary also to inform Paris of his own unpopularity in the capital, of his frigid reception ‘lasting for less than a minute’ by Marie Feodorovna, and of the way in which Russian Society insisted on ‘observing an astonishing silence over every political question’.8 Little effort was made to conceal the contempt by Russians of high standing for Savary personally and for the sovereign he represented. They had longer memories than their Tsar.
Alexander was fully aware of the mood in the capital, and his natural instinct for survival led him to tread cautiously. For the first time since his accession he found it difficult to trust ministers and advisers, nor was it easy to find new men to replace those who had lost his confidence. He knew that, as ever, he could rely on Arakcheev but to entrust him with ministerial responsibilities would increase dissatisfaction in the capital, especially among the officers of the Guards Regiments. Of Alexander’s old friends from the Secret Committee only Kochubey still held office in 1807 and he frequently absented himself from meetings of the Council that summer and autumn on grounds of ill-health. Each member of the former Secret Committee felt their common hopes and ideals already betrayed. But the ministers on whom Alexander had most closely relied in the preceding twelve months were equally ill at ease. Almost every week between July and September Budberg wrote to Alexander requesting to be relieved from his post as Foreign Minister, while Kurakin sought, and obtained, the embassy in Vienna.9 The only minister who unreservedly supported reconciliation with Napoleon was Count Nicolai Rumiantsev, who had been in charge of commercial affairs since 1802 and over the years exasperated each successive Foreign Minister by consistently opposing war with France at the council table. Early in September the Tsar personally went to Rumiantsev’s office and begged him to take over foreign affairs from Budberg.10 Significantly Alexander also insisted that Rumiantsev should remain Minister of Commerce. There was no one else to whom he could turn for support of an economic policy so unpopular with the merchants.
The first six months which followed the Tilsit meeting imposed on Alexander a strain as great as in any military campaign. In meeting Napoleon personally as Emperor to Emperor he assumed autocratic powers which it was difficult for him to delegate once he returned to the capital. Inevitably he had to take a greater share in the effective running of government, much as he had in the early months of his reign; but, at the same time, he had to appear more and more in public so as to let his subjects see their Tsar had not abandoned them nor given himself up to despair. In later years people remembered the Petersburg season of 1807 as particularly brilliant, with Alexander and Elizabeth attending more balls and receptions than ever before.11 Slowly he sought to recover the popularity he had enjoyed in happier times, over-taxing in these efforts both his charm and his patience.
The Empress Elizabeth once again loyally supported her husband. Although unhappy over many aspects of the new policy, she sympathized with Alexander and understood him better than he did himself. But even Elizabeth found the tension almost unbearable, and on 10 September she wrote a long letter to her mother in which she made no attempt to conceal the anger she felt towards the other members of the Tsar’s family:12
You know, Mamma, this man [Napoleon] seems to me like an irresistible seducer who by temptation or force succeeds in stealing the hearts of his victims. Russia, the most virtuous of them, has defended herself for a long time; but she has ended up no better than the others. And, in the person of her Emperor [Alexander], she has yielded as much to charm as to force. He feels a secret attraction towards his enticer which is apparent in all he does. I should indeed like to know what magic it is that he [Napoleon] employs to change people’s opinions so suddenly and so completely … Unfortunately it is only the Emperor and a tiny group of people whom the seducer has conquered. The more the Emperor shows attachment to his new ally and accords favours to Savary, the louder the outcry until by now it has reached frightening proportions. The Dowager Empress, inspired by the colossal vanity which leads her to curry support from the toadies, has been the first to set an example of discontent and to speak openly against the policy of her son … The Dowager Empress, who as a mother should have upheld the interests of her son, is now virtually a rebel leader. All the dissidents gather around her and praise her to the skies. Never has her Court been so well attended: never has she attracted so many members of the nobility to Pavlovsk as this year. I cannot express to you how indignant this has made me feel. At such a moment as this, when she must know to what a point the public is exasperated with the Emperor, is it for her at such a time to entertain and flatter those who most vehemently abuse him? I do not know; but I ca
nnot find anything praiseworthy in such conduct, especially on the part of a mother … They tell us that the Grand Duke Constantine, as soon as his brother’s back is turned, makes as much fuss as anyone else about what has happened and what is happening. I do not know his opinions, for we are not on a sufficiently familiar footing to exchange confidences, but knowing the full baseness of his character, I believe him capable of it. In short the good Emperor, who is the best of all his family, seems to me to be sold and betrayed by his own kinsfolk. He is certainly unfortunate but the more painful the situation becomes, the more I feel for him, perhaps to the point of making me unfair towards those who do not treat him kindly …
As for [the Grand Duchess Catherine] … I have never seen a stranger young woman. She is on the wrong path because she takes as a model for her opinions, her conduct – and even her manners – her dear brother Constantine. She has a style [un ton] which would not suit a woman of forty, let alone a girl of nineteen, besides putting on an act of twisting her mother round her little finger (and sometimes succeeding) … At the present time she is hand in glove with Prince Bagration who, for the last two summers, has been in residence at Pavlovsk where he commands the garrison.
… If she were not so plain, she would run a risk of ruining herself by this liaison, but her plainness saves the Grand Duchess.
Although Elizabeth’s letter was enlivened by a waspish dash of gossip, it is clear she was alarmed by Alexander’s isolation; and in a briefer note a month later she again referred to the dangers of a sudden ill-considered act by ‘the public’ of the capital.13 Nor was the Empress alone in her fears: both the Swedish ambassador and the minister of Sardinia-Piedmont sent ominous reports back to their governments;14 and in the fourth week of September General Savary even broached the possibility of a hostile conspiracy in conversation with the Tsar. But Alexander refused to take the situation seriously. He urged Savary not to pay too much attention to those in the capital who played at intrigues, even in his own family circle. ‘General’, he said, ‘I have made my choice and nothing will change it. Let us say nothing more about it, and we will see what happens.’15
Alexander’s fatalistic self-confidence at this crisis is remarkable and, at first sight, out of character. Yet he was not putting on a bold front for the benefit of Napoleon’s envoy: once he had decided to entrust foreign affairs to Rumiantsev his mind was made up; and in the closing three months of 1807 he took surprising risks. On 11 October he set out for a ten day tour of inspection of garrison towns in Byelo-Russia (Polotsk, Vitebsk and Minsk) as though inviting conspirators in the capital to strike in his absence.16 Nothing serious happened apart from clumsy efforts by General Wilson (who arrived back from London on 17 October) to mobilize the Anglophile party against Rumiantsev’s policy of appeasement. During the last days of October the Tsar determined to put an end to Wilson’s mischievous intrigues and he ordered the General to be expelled from his Empire. On 7 November an official bulletin was published in St Petersburg which denounced the British Government for interfering with Russian vessels on the high seas and formally broke off diplomatic relations between the two countries, who were now virtually in a state of war.17 Although the official value of the rouble fell dramatically and there were complaints from the merchants of Petersburg and the other Baltic ports, once again there was no open sign of defiance. Finally, in the last days of the old year, Alexander dismissed his insignificant War Minister (General Vyazmitinov) and appointed as his successor Alexei Arakcheev.18 Foreign observers in the capital held their breath and waited for the explosion of anger from the army. It never came. ‘From among the oligarchy of military favourites’, wrote Joseph de Maistre, the Sardinian minister, at this time, ‘General Arakcheev has suddenly, without any warning signals, risen out of the ground. He is cruel, stern and unshakable … It remains to be explained why his Imperial Majesty has decided to acquire a vizier, since nothing is more alien to his character and way of governing … I suppose he wanted to have a more frightening bogeyman by his side because of the domestic ferment which prevails here.’19 None of the diplomats, apart from Savary, welcomed Arakcheev’s appointment; but they were impressed by the way in which the Tsar was facing the challenge from the malcontents.
In retrospect it is hard to believe that Alexander’s throne was ever seriously in danger. The violence of Russia’s internal history over the previous century and a half haunted people’s memories. Because the Guards Regiments had made a palace revolution on four occasions, it was assumed they would strike again rather than resign themselves to a humiliating period of personal rule by a Tsar who had lost his popularity with the citizens of the capital. Even Joseph de Maistre wrote cryptically of seeking an escape from ‘this dangerous situation’ by what he euphemistically termed ‘the Asiatic remedy’.20 But there was no real parallel between the discontent of 1807 and any of these previous crises. It is unlikely the army would have wished to put Constantine on the throne: they regarded him as an empty-headed braggart, no less susceptible to Napoleon’s flattery than his brother and primarily interested in the welfare of the French actress he had taken as a mistress (who, at this time, was about to bear him a child). No one in Society ever took Constantine too seriously.
The only possible threat to Alexander was a conspiracy involving the Grand Duchess Catherine and Bagration who, as Savary reported, was a popular hero ‘sullen, ambitious and with no love for the French’.21 But there were three good reasons why such a plot was unlikely: the Grand Duchess was too young and wilful to be thrust upon a throne; she was too fond of both her brothers to deny them their rights, unless they wished to renounce them; and, though Bagration might seek glory on the field of battle, he was not by nature a political schemer, nor did he show any desire to play the kingmaker. Alexander understood better than outside observers – and, for that matter, better than Elizabeth – the real purpose of the opposition centred on Marie Feodorovna’s court. The Dowager Empress had been informed of what was agreed at Tilsit, but she was never consulted in advance. Russian Court etiquette already gave the mother of a Tsar precedence over everyone in the Empire except the reigning sovereign; and now Marie Feodorovna was seeking to match convention with reality so that in future she might let her will be known ventriloquially through the words of her son. Alexander was thus faced, in those closing months of 1807, not with an immediate palace revolution but with a power contest against his mother. There was nothing new in such a challenge – the Tsar’s ‘young friends’ had tactfully warned him of the danger within a few weeks of his accession – but after Tilsit it was harder to master than in the days when Alexander could feel all the capital was behind him. Yet, though often tense and wearying, the contest in itself did not endanger the stability of the throne. Hence the confidence with which Alexander sought to allay Savary’s fears of subversion.
Caulaincourt arrives in St Petersburg (December 1807)
In December 1807 General Armand de Caulaincourt, an aristocrat from Picardy who had once served in Louis XVI’s finest cavalry regiment, arrived in St Petersburg as ambassador of France.22 His cultured interests and good breeding made him popular in Society and he was rapidly on even friendlier terms with the Tsar than Savary had been, despite the fact that he too was implicated in the d’Enghien affair. Savary duly returned to Paris early in the New Year and reported to Napoleon. The Emperor was not entirely satisfied with the development of Russo-French relations.23 He was pleased with Alexander’s moves against the British and with the extent of Russian participation in the Continental System; and he welcomed Alexander’s willingness to mount a military expedition against Sweden, whose King had refused to follow the other states of northern Europe by breaking off all trade with England. If Alexander wished to annex Finland to his Empire, then such matters were of no concern to the French. On the other hand, the Russians were being difficult over Germany and over the Eastern Question. Napoleon was not as yet prepared to evacuate his troops from Prussia and, so long as the French flag flew i
n Berlin, Alexander showed a similar reluctance to pull his army out of the Danubian Principalities as a preliminary to a general settlement with the Sultan. Napoleon’s first compromise suggestion that Russia should keep the Principalities pending a new disposal of Prussia’s lands was rejected out of hand by Alexander and Rumiantsev. But at the beginning of February 1808 Napoleon proposed a far more attractive scheme by which he hoped to harness Russian ambitions for Turkish territories to his cherished plan for a French march into Asia.
On 2 February 1808 Napoleon dictated a remarkable letter for despatch to Alexander.24 He wished for closer collaboration with Russia against the ‘pigmy power’ who denied the world a lasting peace. Though he disguised the blatantly acquisitive intentions of his design with fine words, what he had to say was in itself sufficiently attractive for Alexander to be thrown once more into an ecstasy of personal admiration:
Will Your Majesty listen graciously to the advice of someone who claims that he is honestly and affectionately attached to you? Your need is to remove the Swedes farther from your capital. Let your frontiers be extended as far as you wish in that direction. I am ready to assist you in this with all the means in my power.