Part #147: Pax Quaeritur Bello
“Victorious warriors win first and then go to war, while defeated warriors go to war first and then seek to win.”
– Sun Tsuy, The Art of War
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From: “The Congress of Brussels” by Friedrich Tolcher (1949)—
The Congress of Brussels might have been named in imitation of the Congress of Copenhagen, but in truth this optimistic comparison could scarcely be further from the truth. At Copenhagen there had been little in the way of real division. It was a group of victors—the restored French Royalists mostly successful in convincing others that they represented part of that alliance rather than a continuation of Lisieux’s France—with some mild squabbles over the spoils. Brussels was very different. There was not even the vaguest ideological grouping between the nations that argued there. Every country was there for itself, and in some cases for its people. It was a fierily nationalistic struggle, news of which doubtless inspiring and repelling Pablo Sanchez, at the time still anonymously hiding out in a small village in his native Spain: he would not leave for the UPSA until peace broke out.
Perhaps the best contrast was drawn by the veteran Danish diplomat Emil Christiansen, who had attended the Congress of Copenhagen as a young subaltern. “At Copenhagen, there was little in the way of real enmity,” he wrote in his memoirs. “There was a palpable sense of exhaustion, and a sense that after the grand struggle against Jacobinism, no minor disagreement over the postwar settlement was sufficient to reignite a war. The Russians would never have attacked the British in France over squabbling over occupation territories or something of that nature. Brussels was different. The exhaustion was there again, but this time there was a perception that every representative had the whole people of his nation behind him, urging him on. Even those regimes that had been fighting against Populist uprisings now had earned a greater sense of representing their subjects. The wars had truly been Popular, and that ultimately impaired the effort to gain a lasting peace. Diplomacy works better when its participants view themselves as members of a gentleman’s club, each with more in common with the fellow sitting next to him than with his compatriots back home. In the early days we used to joke that we were like husbands at their club, with our rulers and our countries like our angry wives and children back home, ready to nag us for having gambled away some of our riches. By Brussels that cosy notion was dead: we were now more like champions fighting at a tournament, trying to win our nations supremacy as though it were the prize. And that is not conducive to the kind of cooperation and alliance-building needed to construct a peaceful postwar European system.”
In order to understand Brussels we naturally must understand the path to the Congress, and why that city was chosen. In February 1835 Napoleon “Leo Bone” Bonaparte had died, just prior to hearing that Maximilian II of Flanders was willing to negotiate to end the fighting on that frontier. This decapitated the French wartime regime, depriving it of its Dictateur. For months the Rouge Party leader André Malraux had already been arguing that there was now no need for the triumvirate and Dictateur, that the danger to France’s national survival was now past. France had reconquered Lorraine, extended her influence into the new Swiss state (later to become the Bernese Republic) and while her defeat of Italy had not been total, she had gained significant territory compared to the pre-war situation. Flanders was the only foe that remained, and Bonaparte’s attempt at a final offensive had failed. Though France lacked a Dictateur, it seemed obvious what must be done next: seek peace with Flanders through a Congress also drawing in other countries to establish a lasting postwar system.
However, that is not what occurred. Malraux withdrew from the triumvirate and called for fresh elections so that the French people would have a voice at the peace negotiations. Claude Devigny and Émile Perrier, the Bleu and Blanc leaders respectively, disagreed. Both suspected the Rouges would benefit, with the tides of Populism sweeping Europe, and both wanted to keep Malraux out of handling the end of the war. To that end they decided to form a coalition government to rule France for the moment, relying on legislation that let them delay elections in wartime. The Blancs were the larger of the two parties in the Grand-Parlement, but King Charles still refused to deal with Perrier after the latter’s earlier missteps, and the Blancs refused to nominate a new leader on principle, so Devigny became Prime Minister as a compromise.
The reasoning behind the coalition’s actions has been much debated, but many believe that Devigny and his fellows gained access to Bonaparte’s papers dealing with the negotiations with Maximilian, but either had incomplete versions or else read them with a biased eye that only took in the parts they wanted to read. Whatever the reason, Devigny and company became convinced that Maximilian’s Flanders was on its last legs. They believed that Bonaparte’s reasoning was no longer relevant: France no longer had to worry about being viewed as the aggressor, as that had been the popular image surrounding the
last offensive yet there had been no negative consequences. Furthermore, both men were aware of how Bonaparte had been criticised by the Rouges for failing to protect the Walloons, and believed that a new offensive could draw all of Wallonia into France and win them points with some who would otherwise vote Rouge. To that end, they broke off the peace negotiations and, to some misgivings from the King, launched what became known as the
offensive parthe (Parthian Offensive), as it was the last shot of the Popular Wars.
The fact that this name is so drenched in blood in the popular imagination ensures that no detailed description should be necessary. The Parthian Offensive was badly misjudged from the start. All the Devigny coalition government seemed to care about was that it was all the great armies of France facing a small country that should be exhausted from its invasion of the Dutch Republic and quelling rebellions in its Rhineland possessions. The truth was that it was the French armies that were more exhausted, as Bonaparte had realised after his own ill-fated offensive. Too many good men had died either in the ‘Nightmare War’ against Italy or in the earlier Flemish offensive. Too many officers were young, inexperienced and overpromoted. The Flemings were a technologically advanced force that could not be easily intimidated using steam-artillery or rocket tactics. They were also fighting for their homeland. And, most significantly of all, the other fronts were now quiet. Since William VII’s rescue from captivity—ironically at the hands of Marshal Forgues’ Frenchmen—he had observed how his countrymen mostly welcomed the Flemings as liberators after the oppression of Scherman, and had decided which way the wind was blowing. Having been reassured by Maximilian that he would continue to have a significant role in the postwar settlement, William urged the Dutch to support the Flemings and volunteer to help them resist the new French offensive. With the Dutch at least quiescent, the Flemings were able to concentrate all their forces against the French, aided by the fact that (as had been observed in Italy) modern warfare with its repeaters and rifles tended to favour the defensive position.
The Parthian Offensive lasted less than a month and resulted in the capture of barely a dozen towns. The French were lucky they did not lose territory. Whereas the Flemings remained disciplined and motivated as only the soldier with his back to his own country can be, the French were demoralised and poorly motivated, unwilling to throw their lives away for the political ambitions of their leaders (for such as it was seen, aided by Rouge propaganda circulated through the army by sympathisers). The army threatened a mutiny on April 14th, and though the communication was secret, an appalled Devigny decided things had gone far enough. Worse, Bonaparte’s prophecy came true. Having observed the French’s problems, Charles IV, Emperor of New Spain and restored King of
Old Spain, sent a missive indicating that Spain would like to see an ‘equitable’ revision of the Franco-Spanish border...
The Congress of Brussels opened on August 12th 1835. The choice of location appears not to have been to deliberately slight the French, holding it in a city whose people were naturally hostile to them both for the Jacobin Wars era occupation and the late conflict. Rather, it was because in the intervening time other powers had become involved in the negotiations to establish a postwar settlement, and Brussels was viewed as a more distant and neutral location for
them. Among these powers were Saxony and the Hapsburgs (having already resolved the Bohemian situation by the Congress of Brünn two years earlier, but wishing to settle the status of Bavaria), soon to be joined by Denmark and Russia. Great Britain also became involved, though her negotiating position was hampered by the shock results of her election in June 1835 and the struggles of the new government to get to grips with the situation. In many ways the Congress of Brussels’ role was simply to internationally validate and ratify treaties that had already been agreed between participants in local wars: the fact that such groundwork had already been laid perhaps suggests how the Congress resulted in any settlement at all despite the sense of fiery nationalistic disagreement.
The settlement agreed by the Congress can very briefly be summarised here:
Iberia
- Portugal to retain Corunna and a small part of southern Galicia, but the rest to be returned to Spain. Spain to regain Badajoz and Ciudad Rodrigo, with the Hispano-Portuguese border outside Galicia being restored to its 1794 form.
- Spain to accept an enlarged Navarre in exchange for the restoration of the 1794 Franco-Spanish border and the recreation of the co-principality of Andorra.
- Spain to recognise the rump Kingdom of Aragon as the Kingdom of Catalonia, in personal union with Naples and Sicily (the “Kingdom of the Three Sicilies”) and the Hispano-Catalonian border to be fixed.
- The Franco-Catalonian border remains unchanged from the Franco-Aragonese border set in 1809.
British Isles and France
- The Isle of Man’s independence to be restored (the New Tynwald voted for the island to become a republic in 1840, severing the last links to the British monarchy).
- The King of Great Britain to cede the Channel Islands to his French counterpart and to abandon his claim as Duke of Normandy. Charles IX re-created the Duchy of Normandy (which had been subsumed into the French crown lands years before) and bestowed the title of Duke of Normandy on his son the Dauphin Louis Henri. The Channel Islands remained a feudal territory and would not see full political integration into France until reforms of the Diamantine Party years later.
- Calais restored to France from Britain.
- France gains Walloon territory from Flanders, to be directly integrated into the French crown. (The territorial gains, centred on Charleroi, were less than many expected in France).
- France gains territory from Italy consisting of the restoration of the 1794 Franco-Piedmontese border, plus Savoy.
- Other powers recognise the Bernese Republic and its borders (one of the biggest sticking points of the negotiations, due to the perception that the Republic is a French puppet and the amount of Italian territory it had obtained. Ultimately the source of the ‘Maucler Letter’ (q.v.)).
- France to gain all of Lorraine from the Italian Hapsburgs, although the ‘Maucler Letter’ sparked (erroneous) rumours that part of the territory was to be awarded to Swabia in order to sweeten the deal on the Swiss lands.
Italy
- Territory transferred from the Papal State to Naples (the ‘Three Sicilies’). The Congress was often accused of having implicitly recognised that the Papal State, and by extension the Pope, had become a puppet of the Neapolitan monarchy.
- The Three Sicilies gains Tuscany (another controversial sticking point, and if the Austrian and Italian Hapsburgs had still been speaking to each other, would probably not have gone through).
- The Three Sicilies gains Lucca. The Luccan ruling house of Poland is financially compensated.
- Malta is explicitly recognised as an independent territory part-owned by the International Counter-Piracy Agency, with the remaining British claims rejected. (This was simply bringing international law up to date with what had been the
de facto situation for years).
- France fully recognises the Hapsburg possession of Italy and disavows the claim of Victor Felix of the House of Savoy (currently living in exile in the Bernese Republic).
- Sardinian independence is recognised (along with Corsican independence for those countries that had previously refused to recognise Corsica due to its radical form of government).
Germany
- The former Dutch Republic is to be integrated with Flanders, the resulting country to be called ‘the Kingdom of the Reunited Netherlands’. (Of course this name did not stick, but at the time ‘Belgium’ was just a romantic name bandied about by intellectuals).
- However, some former Dutch territories in Germany, including Munster, instead to become part of Low Saxony (see below).
- Hanover, Brunswick and the other former territories composing the Alliance of Hildesheim to be integrated under the Brunswick monarchy as the ‘Kingdom of Lower Saxony’ (
Niedersachsen). The choice of name by Duke (now King) Charles II was widely viewed as significant, indicating his desire to become part of a new German system led by the Saxons. Saxony itself, though properly called ‘Upper Saxony’ in contrast to this name, was often instead termed ‘High Saxony’ (
Hochsachsen) as a mild pun on its pre-eminent position in the new Germany.
- The pre-war Danish territories in Germany are recognised as an integral part of the Danish crown (the Schmidtist rebellions by now having been crushed). At the Congress the Danish King Valdemar V and II first revealed his intentions for his possessions. Adopting a variant of the New Spanish ‘Arandite Plan’, he elevated himself to Emperor Valdemar I of a new ‘Nordic Empire’, which would be further divided into two kingdoms under his two sons. Frederick, the elder, would become ‘King of Scandinavia’ (consisting of Denmark, Norway and the rump Sweden still under Danish control integrated into a single state) while Christian, the younger, would rule over Danish Germany as the ‘Kingdom of Billungia’, named after an archaic term for a tribe that had once inhabited the German Baltic. This plan was rather controversial in some quarters. Oldenburg became a North Sea exclave of Billungia, rather than remaining an overseas Danish territory, in 1839. The precise status of Schleswig and Holstein, on the other hand, would remain a major issue for years to come.
- Later in the Congress, in March 1836, the Danes agreed to trade Danzig to Poland in exchange for Brandenburg-Stettin, which was currently occupied by Polish forces, and Brandenburg-Stettin was subsumed into Billungia. This action, which was widely criticised by many commentators for giving up the key port of Danzig, is generally viewed as being an act of petty one-upmanship against Saxony for the annexation of the other part of Brandenburg (see below) as well as perhaps an attempt to prevent Poland from being drawn into the ‘Saxon system’.
- Saxony to annex all of Brandenburg-Berlin (the justification of Augustus II was that it was a ‘natural act’ needed to counterbalance the new large Bohemian kingdom under his brother).
- Most of the former Mittelbund/VRD, along with the former Saxon exclave of Mark,[2] to become a new Kingdom of Grand Hesse under Augustus II’s youngest brother Frederick Christian. The name ‘Grand Hesse’ is the most usual English translation of German
Großhessen, although ‘Greater Hesse’ might be more accurate. Frederick Christian’s Catholicism was somewhat controversial as the new state had a Protestant majority, though also a significant Catholic minority. Unlike the other states in the ‘Saxon system’, Grand Hesse was explicitly recognised as constitutionally having a strong, popularly elected Diet: this was of course thanks to the deal that the Saxons had cut with Wilhelm Brüning’s faction of the Schmidtists, but was justified to the conservative states at the Congress as being a counterbalance due to the issue of Frederick Christian’s religion.
- Cologne, formerly a Mittelbund exclave within Flanders, to be awarded to Flanders.
- Swabia loses the territories that go to make up the Bernese Republic. In compensation, Swabia is awarded some former Austrian-Bavarian territories including Bayreuth and Augsburg.
- One of the most long-running and contentious issues at the Congress was what to do with Bavaria. After the bloody conflict there, both Austria and Saxony were convinced that the place was impossible to govern and not worth the effort, yet both were insistent the other should not have it just in case they turned out to be wrong. It was, somewhat surprisingly, Devigny who came up with the solution, perhaps because the Italian demands about Victor Felix had been on his mind. Citing the Luccan succession to the throne of Poland as precedent, Devigny proposed that Victor Felix be made King of an independent, neutralised Bavaria. This proved a popular solution: Victor Felix had a crown, the Saxons and Austrians had a way out, and the Italians hoped that a Kleinkrieger would cut his throat. Of course, it did not turn out that way...
- Most of the former Kingdom of Bohemia within the Hapsburg dominions to be turned into an independent Kingdom of Bohemia under Augustus II’s brother Xavier Albert as Albert II. However the Duchy of Teschen is ceded to Poland (see below) while the Hapsburgs retain approximately two-thirds of Moravia, including Brünn.
Eastern Europe
- Poland annexes the former Duchy of Prussia, gains Danzig from the Danes, and gains Teschen, Krakau and some additional Galician territory from the Hapsburgs.
- The separation of the Russian and Lithuanian royal houses is recognised.
- The independent rump Sweden was
not recognised as such after disagreements between the powers, and this remained a contentious issue for the Russians for some years.
- The partition of the Danubian Principalities by the Hapsburgs and Russians, dating from their intervention in the Ottoman Time of Troubles some years earlier, was widely recognised, as was the Russian conquest of the Crimea (now subdued once again). (There were rumours that the Hapsburgs had considered putting forward a decidedly optimistic claim on Moldavia, but if so this was wisely not followed through on).
This is, of course, a very brief summary, and another book could be written about the fine detail of the new European system hammered out at the Congress. One area often brought up is the failure of the powers to consider the New World, which is often attributed to simple myopia or arrogance. In truth we should be wary about the dangers of hindsight. It seems obvious to us in retrospect that the Popular Wars represented the dawning of the age of increasing American supremacy and the rise of the two great powers that would increasingly define the historical patterns of the latter half of the nineteenth century. Yet at the time this was not the case. Furthermore, it is inaccurate to claim that the Americas were entirely ignored at the Congress; it was simply that there was too much disagreement over taking even the broadest position, with the Spanish representatives particularly determined to prevent all of Europe taking a coherent position that could lead to interference. From this it is immediately apparent (although, again, we benefit from hindsight) that the new government in Madrid, made up of veterans of New Spain’s administration, was still acting as though its main centre of interests was in the Americas.
It has been said that one knows a good compromise when it satisfies nobody. This can perhaps be said of Brussels, but it certainly satisfied some powers more than others. Though irked at the lack of recognition of their new Swedish appendage, the Russians represented an increasingly potent and respected force in Europe. The Neapolitans had seen their rivals humiliated and their gains recognised, though they had suffered losses in Spain. The Spanish had seen their long exilic claim vindicated. The Saxons were in position to impose the vision of Germany they had concocted throughout the Watchful Peace, with the Hapsburgs fallen and left licking their wounds for a generation. In 1838 the Treaty of Potsdam was signed, dismissing the last vestiges of the Concert of Germany and creating the new Federal League of Germany (
Deutsche Bundesliga), made up of ‘High’ Saxony, Low Saxony, Grand Hesse, and Bohemia. The Bundesliga was ostensibly just an extension of the single currency and customs union (
Zollverein) established under the Saxon-backed ‘Koalitionsthaler’ during the Watchful Peace, but it was clear to everyone that its real purpose was to further Saxon hegemony in Germany and the Saxon vision for Germany. The Bundesliga was ultimately lead to the formation of the rival Isolationsgebiet in 1840. But this is to get ahead of ourselves.
The most obvious and immediate consequence of the Congress was a tide of public anger in France. The French people had rallied together in their country’s time of peril and had spent tides of their own blood in order to protect the country against its seemingly endless enemies. Their leader, the flawed but still widely respected Bonaparte, had given his own life in the struggle, and that it was a death from the strains of command rather than being riddled with bullets made no difference. And now, said the version of events circulated through the army and workers by the Rouge Party’s committees, all that had been thrown away at the Congress by the aristocratic Blanc-Bleu government, which would gladly throw away the gains achieved through thousands of French commoners’ lives with a laugh and a clink of glasses with their aristocratic foreign friends. To the more intellectual and idealistic angry young men, the Rouges instead contended that the Blanc-Bleu government had abandoned Bonaparte’s famous pledge to support an independent Dutch state at all costs, and cared nothing for the Walloons still being expelled from their homes on the ‘Route des Larmes’. “All they want is for everything to go back to how it was in 1825...or, better yet, in 1793,” was the biting summary by one Rouge rabblerouser. 1793 was perhaps the best comparison. For France was in a revolutionary mood that had not been seen since Le Diamant walked the earth.
The publication of the ‘Maucler Letter’, a fake (but supposedly based on real events) letter from Devigny to the chief minister of Swabia promising them part of Lorraine—hard-won with French blood—was the real trigger for outpourings of public outrage. However, it is worth remembering that when it came to soldiers, what was often a bigger motivator was the rumour that the government was threatening to go back on its word on war pensions. Malraux and the Rouges were taking a huge gamble. They could easily have lost control of the public anger they were stirring up, as many had before them, and France could once again have become embroiled in a violent revolution that could have set tired, exhausted Europe alight yet again. Fortunately, this did not happen, largely thanks to the action of one man who had observed Napoleon Bonaparte through the long years while he was growing up, inspired by the man but never being the puppet that some had accused him of being. While Devigny, Perrier and the rest of the Blanc-Bleu government dithered at reports of army mutinies and marches by dispossessed soldiers on Paris, King Charles rode out alone save for a few guards and surprised a large group of mutineers—including many officers—encamped near Beauvais. The King would repeat his action several times, as in the real world not all the troublemakers would be in one place, but the Beauvais incident is the one typically remembered and depicted in art. That morning of July 12th, 1836 has been etched in French cultural memory.
The King went out in front of the massed mutineers on horseback, wearing his full ceremonial robes and crown (something which Charles’ diary recounts gave him backache for days afterwards). Though some of the more extremist soldiers gave catcalls, for the most part the King was still respected and the soldiers bowed to him. The King then turned to them and, with the resonant voice he had developed on the advice of Bonaparte, said: “Soldiers of France! All of you, arise. Long you have fought in the defence of your King and your country. Long you have suffered and died to protect your wives and children, your land, your liberty. And so on this day, let no man bow to the King of the French. On this day, rather, let the King bow to those whose sacrifices means he still has a kingdom.” And Charles went down from his horse and, to the shock of the soldiers, did just that.
Then from out of the woods another figure emerged, and some of the soldiers recognised him as André Malraux. “I have been reminded,” Charles said, “that ’twould be a strange world in which those who fought and died for their King and country in war should have no say in how that country is governed in peace. Therefore, it is my intention to dissolve the Grand-Parlement and hold a new election, an election in which every man who has served in France’s army shall be exempt from all property qualifications. You have won the war! You have earned the vote! Now help your King win the peace.”
Charles’ proclamation was met with applause and cheers from the troops and, despite his admonition, many of them bowed once again. It would not be until some years later that July 12th would be celebrated annually as the
Jour des Soldats, the Soldiers’ Day, on which it is the King (and later all government officials) who bow to every veteran of France, down to the lowest private, rather than the other way around.
The King’s actions helped both secure the French monarchy and prevent further unrest. He dissolved the Grand-Parlement against the wishes of the Blancs and Bleus (who really did not have a case, their former logic being based on elections being delayed due to war, and the war now being over). The franchise being granted to soldiers doubtless helped the Rouges, but even without this reform it seems likely that the Blancs and Bleus would have suffered a defeat: the late government had not distinguished itself, motivated largely by selfish concerns. Rather confusingly, it became known as the “Blue Election” (because French military uniforms were blue).[3] Predictably, the result was a landslide victory for the Rouges, who became the first majority government in French history, while the Blancs and Bleus were crushed. The Blancs retained more seats, partly because of those automatically granted to aristocrats, and this combined with Devigny being a scapegoat ensured that, when it was decided to continue the alliance between the parties in the face of Rouge domination, the Blancs would be in the driving seat. With out-of-touch aristocrats running the opposition, the Rouges could do what they liked for the foreseeable future, and it is for this reason that this period is often called “The People’s Kingdom”. Of course, the term has also been applied to Britain, but over there it meant something rather different...
[1] While I have used OTL pinyin for most Chinese names to avoid confusion, a few well-known names have been put in their TTL spelling, and Sun Tzu is most known through Russian translations. While there is a single popular Chinese transliteration system by the ‘present day’ of TTL, some particular names remain best known in earlier transliteration systems, much like how ‘Chiang Kai-shek’ is still a much more popular and recognisable spelling of the Kuomintang leader’s name than the pinyin ‘Jiang Jieshi’.
[2] Known as the County of Mark under the Holy Roman Empire. It became part of Prussia in 1701 in both OTL and TTL, and in TTL passed to Saxony after the Third War of Supremacy in 1760.
[3] Compare the ‘khaki elections’ in Britain of OTL.
. Type it, and any other word, into google translate, then click the little speaker by the translation. It gives you a fine rendition of the word in audio.
