his subordination to the emperor, and early began his pose as an Italian king by demanding the withdrawal of the French troops from Naples and naturalization as Neapolitans of all Frenchmen in the service of the state (1811). Napoleon, of course, met this demand with a curt refusal. A breach between the brothers-in-law was only averted by the Russian campaign of 1812 and Napoleon’s invitation to Murat to take command of the cavalry in the Grand Army. This was a call which appealed to all his strongest military instincts, and he obeyed it. During the disastrous retreat he showed his usual headstrong courage; but in the middle of December he suddenly. threw up his command and returned to Naples. The reason of this was the suspicion, which had been growing on him for two years past, that Napoleon was preparing for him the fate of the king of Holland, and that his own wife, Queen Caroline, was plotting with the emperor for his dethronement. To Marshal Davout, who pointed out to him that he was only king of Naples “by grace of the emperor and the blood of Frenchmen,” he replied that he was king of Naples as the emperor of Austria was emperor of Austria, and that he could do as he liked. He was, in fact, already dreaming of exchanging his position of a vassal king of the French Empire for that of a national Italian king. In the enthusiastic reception that awaited him on his return to Naples on the 4th of February there was nothing to dispel these illusions. All the Italian parties flocked round him, flattering and cajoling him: the patriots, because he seemed to them loyal and glorious enough to assume the task of Italian unification; the partisans of the dispossessed princes, because they looked upon him as a convenient instrument and as simple enough to be made an easy dupe.
From this moment dates the importance of Murat in the history of Europe during the next few years. He at once, without consulting his minister of foreign affairs, despatched Prince Cariati on a confidential mission to Vienna; if Austria would secure the renunciation of his rights by King Ferdinand and guarantee the possession of the kingdom of Naples to himself, he would place his army at her disposal and give up his claims to Sicily. Austria herself, however, had not as yet broken definitively with Napoleon, and before she openly joined the Grand Alliance, after the illusory congress of Prague, many things had happened to make Murat change his mind. He was offended by Napoleon’s bitter letters and by tales of his slighting comments on himself; he was alarmed by the emperor’s scarcely veiled threats; but after all he was a child of the Revolution and a born soldier, with all the soldier’s instinct of loyalty to a great leader, and he grasped eagerly at any excuse for believing that Napoleon, in the event of victory, would maintain him on his throne. Then came the emperor’s advance into Germany, supported as yet by his allies of the Rhenish Confederation. On the fatal field of Leipzig Murat once more fought on Napoleon’s side, leading the French squadrons with all his old valour and dash. But this crowning catastrophe was too much for his wavering faith. On the evening of the 16th of October, the first day of the battle, Metternich found means to open a separate negotiation with him: Great Britain and Austria would, in the event of Murat’s withdrawal from Napoleon’s army and refusal to send reinforcements to the Viceroy of Italy, secure the cession to him of Naples by King Ferdinand, guarantee him in its possession, and obtain for him further advantages in Italy. To accept the Austrian advances seemed now his only chance of continuing to be a king. At Erfurt he asked and obtained the emperor’s leave to return to Naples; “our adieux,” he said, “were not over-cordial.”
He reached Naples on the 4th of November and at once informed the Austrian envoy of his wish to join the Allies, suggesting that the Papal States, with the exception of Rome and the surrounding district, should be made over to him as his reward. On the 31st of December Count Neipperg, afterwards the lover of the empress Marie Louise, arrived at Naples with powers to treat. The result was the signature, on the 11th of January 1814, of a treaty by which Austria guaranteed to Murat the throne of Naples and promised her good offices to secure the assent of the other Allies. Secret additional articles stipulated that Austria would use her good offices to secure the renunciation by Ferdinand of his rights to Naples, in return for an indemnity to hasten the conclusion of peace between Naples and Great Britain, and to augment the Neapolitan kingdom by territory embracing 400,000 souls at the expense of the states of the Church.
The project of the treaty having been communicated to Castlereagh, he replied by expressing the willingness of the British government to conclude an armistice with “the person exercising the government of Naples” (Jan. 22), and this was accordingly signed on the 3rd of February by Bentinck. It was clear that Great Britain had no intention of ultimately recognizing Murat’s right to reign. As for Austria, she would be certain that Murat’s own folly would, sooner or later, give her an opportunity for repudiating her engagements. For the present the Neapolitan alliance would be invaluable to the Allies for the purpose of putting an end to the French dominion in Italy. The plot was all but spoilt by the prince royal of Sicily, who in an order of the day announced to his soldiers that their legitimate sovereign had not renounced his rights to the throne of Naples (Feb. 20); from the Austrian point of view it was compromised by a proclamation issued by Bentinck at Leghorn on the 14th of March, in which he called on the Italians to rise in support of the “great cause of their fatherland.” From Dijon Castlereagh promptly wrote to Bentinck (April 3) to say that the proclamation of the prince of Sicily must be disavowed, and that if King Ferdinand did not behave properly Great Britain would recognize Murat’s title. A letter from Metternich to Marshal Bellegarde, of the same place and date, insisted that Bentinck’s operations must be altered; the last thing that Austria desired was an Italian national rising.
It was, indeed, by this time clear to the allied powers that Murat’s ambition had o’erleaped the bounds set for them. “Murat, a true son of the Revolution,” wrote Metternich, in the same letter, “did not hesitate to form projects of conquest when all his care should have been limited to simple calculations as to how to preserve his throne. . . . He dreamed of a partition of Italy between him and us. . . . When we refused to annex all Italy north of the Po, he saw that his calculations were wrong, but refused to abandon his ambitions. His attitude is most suspicious.” “Press the restoration of the grand-duke in Tuscany,” wrote Castlereagh to Bentinck; “this is the true touchstone of Murat’s intentions. We must not suffer him to carry out his plan of extended dominion; but neither must we break with him and so abandon Austria to his augmented intrigues.”
Meanwhile, Murat had formally broken with Napoleon, and on the 16th of January the French envoy quitted. Naples. But the treason by which he hoped to save his throne was to make its loss inevitable. He had betrayed Napoleon, only to be made the cat’s-paw of the Allies. Great Britain, even when condescending to negotiate with him, had never recognized his title; she could afford to humour Austria by holding out hopes of ultimate recognition, in order to detach him from Napoleon; for Austria alone of the Allies was committed to him, and Castlereagh well knew that, when occasion should arise, her obligations would not be suffered to hamper her interests. With the downfall of Napoleon Murat’s defection had served its turn; moreover, his equivocal conduct during the campaign in Italy[1] had blunted the edge of whatever gratitude the powers may have been disposed to feel; his ambition to unite all Italy south of the Po under his crown was manifest, and the statesmen responsible for the re-establishment of European order were little likely to do violence to their legitimist principles in order to maintain on his throne a revolutionary sovereign who was proving himself so potent a centre of national unrest.
At the very opening of the congress of Vienna Talleyrand, with astounding effrontery, affected not to know “the man”
- ↑ He had contributed to the defeats of the Viceroy Prince Eugene in January and February 1814, but did not show any eagerness to press his victories to the advantage of the Allies, contenting himself with occupying the principality of Benevento.
