“If there is much to criticize in the work of the peacemakers of 1815, it had to be admitted that they did face a formidable task, one that defied any ideal solution. Just because certain arrangements they made turned out to have evil consequences, it does not follow that the opposite course would have yielded more benign results. And they did achieve their principle aim, which was to bring about peace after a quarter century of war. The [Congress of Vienna] does stand as a watershed in the affairs of the world, if only by virtue of what was said and discussed. Even by its stumbling progress, it suggested a different approach to the conduct of international relations, and it initiated a series of processes which were to become part of the furniture of world affairs…”
- Adam Zamoyski, Rites of Peace: The Fall of Napoleon and the Congress of Vienna
The Treaty of Paris in 1814 put an end – it seemed at the time – to the Napoleonic Wars. Napoleon Bonaparte was exiled to Elba, the Bourbon monarchy was restored in France, and peace was at hand.
Of course, it was not going to be nearly so simple. Napoleon had been rampaging around Europe for more than a decade, adding territory to his own country, creating entirely new entities, and installing family members in various thrones. There was, to put it mildly, a lot of unwinding to do.
To tackle this issue, the major powers of Great Britain, Russia, Prussia, and Austria called an international congress in Vienna to reset the game board that Napoleon had so thoroughly upended. In other words, the Congress of Vienna was a massive redistricting effort, a sovereign gerrymandering in which national lines were redrawn and people – “souls” – traded between rulers, all in an effort to create lasting stability through defensible frontiers and a balancing of powers.
As a historical subject, the Congress of Vienna is a bit of a tough sell for the modern reader, especially one who is only casually interested in the Napoleonic Era. The day-to-day business of mapmaking is not inherently exciting, many of the polities discussed no longer exist in the same form or name, and the complexity is enormous. To take one example, before Napoleon created the Confederation of the Rhine, present-day Germany consisted of somewhere in the neighborhood of three-hundred different political entities.
When I picked up Adam Zamoyski’s Rites of Peace, I was prepared for a slog, ready to endure rather than enjoy. As it turns out, this is anything but a slog. It is, quite to the contrary, gracefully written, cleanly presented, and far more entertaining that I could have imagined.
Rites of Peace begins in late 1812, with Napoleon having limped back home after his disastrous Russian campaign. Hotly pursued, the noose slowly tightens around his reign. Despite tremendous exertions and numerous tactical victories (though the military situation is outlined, the battles are not described), his strategic window closes shut, and he is forced to agree to terms.
From there, step by step, Zamoyski takes us along the timeline, through the Treaties of Chaumont and Paris, and onto Vienna itself, where sovereigns and statesmen converged, housing became sparse, deals were struck, and the venereal disease rates – I presume – skyrocketed.
Zamoyski is methodical in the way he structures Rites of Peace, carefully moving from one incident to the next, clearly marking each connection. I greatly appreciated how he distilled the material to its essence, focusing on the big names and higherups at the expense of lower-level diplomats. I also loved how map-tastic this was, with numerous, well-placed maps to show the ways the borders changed from the 1790s to 1815.
Having just begun reading about this time period, I have found that histories of the Napoleonic Wars sometimes feel like a private club that is not keen on accepting new members. Assumptions are made, references are not explained, and you need a great deal of foreknowledge before you can understand anything. That is not the case here. This is accessible and welcoming to newcomers. Though it is a somewhat hefty 570-pages of text, I was never lost. More importantly, I was never less than engrossed.
Part of this is that the Congress of Vienna was bonkers. It was a mind boggling combination of frat kegger and key party, fueled by a heady cocktail of nationalist ambitions, deeply-held grievances, sexual tension, and lots of booze. There were balls, plays, and feasts. People got drunk. Men traded wives. Wives traded husbands. The partner swapping became byzantine. Mountains of debt were accumulated, then defaulted upon. The Viennese police filled War and Peace-sized volumes with the salacious afterhours activities of – among other luminaries – Tsar Alexander.
Instead of turning up his nose at this aspect – as a more academically-minded historian might do – Zamoyski embraces the soap operatic elements with enthusiasm. He is helped with an indelible cast of personalities, from the self-righteous Tsar to the too-clever-by-half Talleyrand. There is a great scene in which a group of diplomats were in a room trying to hammer out a difficult agreement while Metternich, the illustrious Austrian foreign minister, sat in the corner and wrote a pouting and heartbroken love letter to his mistress. Beyond the characters, there are more than enough plot twists – including Napoleon’s escape from Elba, culminating in Waterloo – intrigues, and betrayals to hold anyone’s attention.
Admittedly, I’ve focused more on the pulse-pounding aspects of the Congress of Vienna than anything else, so I hasten to add that the history is solid. Indeed, Rites of Peace is a book that demonstrates that readability and scholarship do not have to be mutually exclusive. Zamoyski is Oxford-trained, multilingual, and has written extensively about this era. He might streamline certain things, but he does not ignore the finer points. If you are interested in learning about the fate of the Kingdom of Saxony, the borders of the Swiss Confederation, or the long-term effects of the congress, you will be satisfied.
While Rites of Peace is focused on a singular event, it helps to answer the broader question of why history is such a mess. It’s the people. The big decisions, the ones affecting millions of lives, the ones determining national destinies, were not made in the cool, dispassionate light of objectivity, but in the throws of myriad passions and emotions. The flawed men and women in Vienna were, by turns, venal, arrogant, misguided, overly-pragmatic, helplessly deluded, hungover, distracted, greedy, overbearing, under-bearing, mono-fixated, lust-blinded, shortsighted, and impractical. They were – in a word – humans. By using the participant’s humanity as the foundation, Zamoyski has constructed an entirely satisfying tale.