CHAPTER II

THE POWERS AND THE CITIZEN KING

In 1830 England was still suffering acutely from the financial crisis

of five years before. The losses of the capitalists entailed distress

upon the working classes in the shape of unemployment and diminished

wages. The misery of the people led to the commission of acts of

violence and incendiarism upon a scale unparalleled in the recent

history of England. The advocates of parliamentary reform drew their

best arguments, in support of their cause, from the wretched condition

of the country. The elections, rendered necessary by the death of

George IV., began in the very week which saw France in the throes of

her revolution. By the Opposition the victory of the Parisians was

acclaimed enthusiastically as the triumph of a neighbouring people

over despotism and aristocratic privilege. The downfall of Polignac

was celebrated as a crushing blow to Wellington. The belief that the

Duke had connived at, if not directly inspired, the French King's

attempted _coup d'état_, was not confined to ignorant people, but was

professed by the leaders of the Whig party.[12] Whilst this supposed

connection of Wellington with Polignac increased the voting power

of the Opposition, Tory patrons of rotten boroughs, incensed at his

Catholic policy, withheld from him their support. The Duke returned

from the elections with a diminished majority, and one, moreover,

which, such as it was, in no way represented the real opinion of the

country.

Wellington had been chiefly instrumental in effecting the restoration

of the Bourbons after Waterloo. The news of their expulsion could not,

under these circumstances, fail to cause him some personal regret.

But, in addition, he was too well acquainted with French affairs not

to be aware that the triumph of the democratic party was a grave

menace to the peace of Europe. On the other hand, however, far from

being, as was supposed, upon confidential terms with Polignac, the

French expedition to Algiers had strained seriously the official

relations which alone subsisted between them. But any reluctance,

which he and his colleagues might have entertained, to recognizing

the new _régime_ in France, had to give way before the popular

enthusiasm which the revolution called forth throughout England. The

Duke, accordingly, lost no time in advising the King to acknowledge

Louis Philippe. It was a policy, he maintained, which not only

offered the best prospect of preserving peace, but which would meet

with the approval of all the great Powers.[13] Consequently, when

on August 22 General Baudrand arrived in London, bringing with him

a letter from Louis Philippe to William IV., he was accorded a good

reception in ministerial circles. Although he fancied he could detect

a little coldness in Wellington's manner, his mission achieved a

complete success. After a stay of about a week in London he returned

to Paris, taking back with him King William's answer together with a

box ornamented with a portrait of that monarch set in diamonds.[14]

Meanwhile, on August 18, Charles X. and the members of his family

had arrived at Spithead on board _The Great Britain_, the American

vessel chartered by the French government to convey them to England.

The state of public feeling made it inadvisable that they should

proceed to London or even land at Portsmouth, and they were, in

consequence, taken, a few days later, by steamer to Lulworth Castle,

in Dorsetshire, which had been prepared for their reception. The

mob which had cheered exultingly as Castlereagh's body was borne

through the streets to its last resting-place at Westminster Abbey,

which, two years later, was to threaten Wellington with violence on

the anniversary of Waterloo, would have shown scant respect for the

misfortunes of the fallen King.

Ever since the days of her crowning disaster at Wagram, Metternich

had directed the foreign policy of Austria. Clement Wenceslas von

Metternich, Chancellor of the Court and of the State, was descended

from a family of counts of the empire and was born at Coblentz in

1773. His predecessors in office, old Kaunitz, the minister of Maria

Theresa, Thugut, Cobenyl, and Stadion, had in vain attempted to cope

with republican and imperial France. Without doubt, Metternich in

the final struggle with Bonaparte was assisted by circumstances not

of his own creation, nevertheless he unquestionably proved himself,

on many occasions, a crafty, wary adversary, who could await his

opportunity patiently. The flattery which was lavished upon him at the

peace and the prominent part which he was enabled to play in the great

territorial settlement at Vienna stimulated greatly his natural vanity

and presumption. In addition, as he grew older, he began to indulge

more and more in long philosophical disquisitions upon every kind of

political subject. But under his pedantic manner, he retained always

his alert resourcefulness and shrewd common sense. In the words of

Sir Frederick Lamb, who had transacted much business with him, "he was

far too practical a man to regulate his conduct by his doctrines, and

far too ingenious a one to be at a loss for a doctrine to cover his

conduct."[15]

Without doubt, Metternich was a man of aristocratic and conservative

instincts, but, had he been differently disposed, the conditions

of the Empire must have rendered very difficult the adoption of a

Liberal policy. At the Congress of Vienna Austria had renounced all

claim to her former possessions in the Low Countries and in Western

Germany, and had withdrawn to the south and south-east to exercise an

uneasy dominion over Slavs and Italians. Progress on national lines

was hardly possible in an empire thus constituted, and circumstances

contributed to facilitate the imposition of a strictly conservative

system. The Liberal impulse, to which the War of Liberation had given

birth in Prussia, had no counterpart in Austria, nor had Francis

II., like Frederick William III., even in his darkest days, promised

constitutional reforms. At the peace, accordingly, Austria reverted

uncomplainingly to her old absolutist traditions.

In Italy Bonaparte had encouraged deliberately a spirit of

nationality. But the patriotic hopes, which he had raised, were

extinguished at the Congress of Vienna. Italy, Metternich decreed,

was to be henceforward merely "a geographical expression." By the

settlement of 1815 Austria acquired actually the provinces of Lombardy

and Venetia, but her influence extended far beyond these districts.

Austrian princes ruled over the Duchies of Tuscany, Modena and Parma.

Treaties which provided that Piacenza, Commachio and Ferrara should

be garrisoned by Austrian troops gave her military control of the

valley of the Po. Tuscany was forbidden to make either peace or war

without her consent, and the King of Naples was pledged to introduce

no constitutional changes, other than those sanctioned in the Austrian

dominions.

In the Lombardo-Venetian Kingdom, as it was termed, it was

Metternich's policy to make the Lombards "forget that they were

Italians." The Austrian code of laws was introduced without regard

to native customs and prejudices. The civil service was composed

almost exclusively of Germans, and the most trifling administrative

questions had to be referred to Vienna.[16] The stagnation engendered

by this system could not fail to have a demoralizing effect. At Venice

two-fifths of the population were in receipt of charitable relief,

the middle classes were without enterprise, the aristocracy fawned

upon the Austrians. On the other hand, in Lombardy and Venetia there

were few monks and a comparatively good system of popular education

existed. The people, moreover, enjoyed equality before the law which,

except in political cases, was justly administered. But as in all

Italian States, the police were arbitrary and interfering and the

censorship of the press was enforced rigidly.

The heterogeneous composition of the Austrian Empire, which demanded

a strictly conservative policy at home, prescribed no less urgently

the preservation of peaceful relations abroad. Since the conclusion

of the great war Metternich's foreign policy had had no other object

than the maintenance of the _status quo_, by the strict observation

of existing treaties. The revolutionary spirit was the most serious

danger to the settlement of 1815. Bonaparte might be dead or a

prisoner at St. Helena, but Metternich was under no illusion that

the peril had passed away for ever. The revolutionary monster still

survived and required ceaseless watching. Only, he conceived, by a

European Confederation, ruled over by a council of the Great Powers,

could complete security be obtained against the common enemy of all

established governments. Metternich's combination of the Powers "for

the maintenance of everything lawfully existing,"[17] which has

been held up to execration under the name of the Holy Alliance, was

an adaptation to practical politics of the fantastic scheme, which

Alexander had propounded, on September 26, 1815, after a review of

his army on the plain of Vertus. According to the Tsar's manifesto

the relations of all European sovereigns were in the future to be

guided by the teachings of Christ. They were to regard each other

in the light of brothers and to look upon their subjects as their

children. The policy of Metternich's Holy Alliance was set forth in

the famous preliminary protocol of the conference of Troppau, signed,

on November 19, 1820, by the plenipotentiaries of Austria, Russia, and

Prussia. "States," it was laid down, "which have undergone a change

of government due to a revolution, the results of which affect other

States, shall cease to be members of the European Alliance. If owing

to these alterations immediate danger threaten neighbouring States,

the Powers bind themselves to bring back by force of arms the erring

State into the folds of the Alliance."

Acting upon this principle, Austria, in 1821, invaded the Kingdom

of Naples and abolished the constitution which the _Carbonari_ had

compelled Ferdinand to accept, whilst Bubna, the Austrian general

commanding at Milan, entered Piedmont and suppressed the revolution

which had broken out at Turin. The Tsar, Alexander, during these

operations, held an army upon the Galician frontier ready to march

into Italy, should his assistance be invoked. The same policy, in

1823, dictated the French armed intervention in Spain, when the

constitution, which the Liberals had proclaimed three years before,

was abolished and the absolute rule of King Ferdinand VII. was

restored. But the determination of England "to abstain rigidly from

interference in the affairs of other States" deprived the alliance of

that appearance of complete unanimity which Metternich hoped would

convince the peoples of the futility of attempting revolutions. The

Greek insurrection, the quarrel between Russia and the Porte and the

conflict of national interests to which the Eastern question gave

rise, completed the work of disruption which Castlereagh and Canning

had begun.

Metternich received the news of the revolution in Paris and of

the downfall of Charles X. at Koenigswart, his country seat in

Bohemia. Ever since the termination of the Russo-Turkish war he had

been striving to re-establish the concert of the Powers and, more

especially, to place the relations of Austria and Russia upon their

former friendly footing. Deeply as Austria was interested in all

developments affecting the integrity of Turkey, greatly as Metternich

mistrusted Nicholas' designs upon the Porte, the spread of Liberalism

constituted in his eyes an even graver danger. The Russian government

was intensely conservative and the people were little likely to be

affected by the revolutionary spirit of Western Europe. Were a serious

crisis to arise it was essential that Austria should be in a position

to look to St. Petersburg for support. A visit which Nesselrode, the

Russian Chancellor, paid to Carlsbad, in the summer of 1830, afforded

Metternich an opportunity of sounding him as to the views of his

Court, and it was upon his return from a satisfactory interview with

his old friend that he found awaiting him at Koenigswart the first

intelligence of Charles X.'s violation of the constitution. On August

6, when the complete triumph of the revolutionists in Paris was known

to him, Metternich determined to return at once to Vienna, making

another short stay at Carlsbad upon the way. At this, their second

meeting, both statesmen affixed their signatures to a short document,

which was to acquire a certain celebrity in the chanceries of Europe

under the name of the _chiffon de Carlsbad_. By this agreement the

basis was established of the policy which the absolute Powers were to

adopt towards France. No attempt would be made to interfere with her,

provided that she should abstain from seeking to infringe existing

treaties and from disturbing the internal peace of neighbouring

States.[18]

Soon after Metternich's return to Vienna, on August 26, General

Belliard arrived, bringing with him a letter from Louis Philippe to

the Emperor Francis. Some days were allowed to elapse before he was

admitted to an audience, but in the interval he had two interviews

with Metternich. The Chancellor accepted his assurances that the

King of the French would do all in his power to maintain peace at

home and abroad. At the same time, however, he gave him plainly to

understand that he had no confidence in Louis Philippe's ability to

carry out his intentions. Both the private and the official answers

of the Emperor were coldly expressed, but they contained the definite

assurance that he had no wish to interfere with the domestic affairs

of France, in which country he sincerely desired to see tranquillity

restored. He was determined to abide by treaties, and was gratified

to learn that His Majesty, the King of the French, was animated by

the same resolution. As Metternich, on September 8, placed these

documents in Belliard's hands he took the opportunity of impressing

upon him solemnly that his Imperial master, although he had decided

to acknowledge the sovereignty of Louis Philippe, viewed the events

which had taken place in France with the utmost abhorrence and was

convinced that the new _régime_ could have only a brief existence. In

truth Metternich was full of apprehensions, and, in a private letter

to Nesselrode, unburdened himself of the conviction that "the end of

old Europe was fast approaching."[19]

The Germanic Confederation had been formed with the object of

protecting Germany from external and internal dangers. The

thirty-eight States and the four free cities of which it was composed

were debarred from entering into any alliance with foreign governments

against another member of the Confederation and, in case of need,

were pledged to furnish contingents to the federal army. Austria and

Prussia, however, in order to preserve the independence of their

foreign policy, brought portions only of their territories into the

Confederation, which, in consequence, was not committed to the defence

of Hungary, Gallicia, Lombardy and Venetia, on behalf of Austria, or

to the protection of the Polish provinces of Prussia. Each State was

represented at the federal Diet at Frankfort, which assembly was in

no sense a federal parliament, but resembled rather a conference of

diplomatists, the ministers attending it being strictly bound by the

instructions furnished them by their respective Courts. Austria and

Prussia had only one vote apiece, Austria, however, held the perpetual

presidency.

Prussia in 1815 had been regarded as the champion of Liberalism. The

Constitutionalists, however, soon discovered that the hopes which

they placed in her were not destined to be realized. In the counsels

of Frederick William, the influence of Wittgenstein, the leader of

the reactionary party, and the friend of Metternich, soon superseded

that of Stein, Hardenburg and the heroes of the War of Liberation. The

conditions of the country, it must be admitted, were hardly suitable

to the immediate establishment of representative institutions. The

inhabitants of the nine provinces which, it had been decreed at the

Congress of Vienna, were to constitute the Kingdom of Prussia, were

not agreed as to the form of government under which they desired

to live. Until they had become Prussians, the Poles of the Duchy

of Posen, the Westphaliand, the Saxons, and the Rhinelanders had

existed under different codes of law and of administration. The

imposition of a uniform system upon the kingdom was a matter of urgent

necessity, and it was to administrative measures that the Prussian

government devoted its attention exclusively in the years which

followed Waterloo. It is clear that there was no strong demand for a

constitution among the mass of the people, and Frederick William III.

could listen, in consequence, without much danger, to Metternich's

warning that representative institutions must prove incompatible with

military strength.

Successful as he had been in persuading Frederick William to withhold

a constitution from Prussia, Metternich could not prevent certain

rulers of the minor States from complying with Article XIII. of the

Federal Act, and from establishing representative government within

their dominions. In 1816, the Liberal Duke of Saxe-Weimar granted a

constitution, and his example was followed by the Kings of Bavaria

and of Wurtemburg and the Duke of Baden. A wave of Liberalism swept

over Northern Germany. The universities were affected profoundly by

the new ideas. In their lecture-rooms, professors denounced existing

governments and harangued their pupils in the language of demagogues.

The agitation culminated, on March 23, 1819, in the murder of the

dramatist and publicist Kotzebue, who was said to be in the pay of

Russia, by Karl Sand, a student of Jena University and a lecturer

to the _Burschenschaft_. This crime and an attempt to assassinate

Ibell, the minister of Nassau, gave Metternich the opportunity for

which he had been waiting. In the month of July of this same year he

had an interview with Frederick William at Teplitz, in the course

of which the King promised never to give Prussia a constitution, to

place his confidence only in ministers of the type of Bernstorff and

Wittgenstein, and to sanction such repressive measures as the Austrian

Chancellor might see fit to suggest. After a conference of the

ministers of the different States at Carlsbad, Metternich's decrees

were submitted to the Frankfort Diet, on September 20, 1819, and

adopted forthwith.

Under the provisions of the celebrated _Carlsbad decrees_, the ruler

of every German State was bound to appoint commissioners to regulate

the universities and to impose a censorship upon all newspapers and

matter printed within his dominions. Furthermore, a central tribunal

was established at Mainz to inquire into the doings of the secret

societies, and upon the members of this court was conferred the power

of arresting the subjects of any German sovereign, and of demanding

from any law court the production of documents. These decrees,

however, did not constitute the sum total of Metternich's measures

of precaution. In November, 1819, he convened a council of German

ministers at Vienna, when, under the pretext of defining the functions

of the Diet, sixty-five new articles of a repressive character were

introduced into the Federal Act. The general effect of the _Vienna

resolutions_, as these measures were termed, was to impose upon the

Federation the duty of defending absolutism by force of arms in small

States in which the sovereigns might prove incapable themselves of

maintaining a despotic form of government.

Metternich's manipulation of the Diet was the great triumph of his

home policy. By converting the Federation from a combination of

States into a league of sovereigns against their own subjects, he

averted the danger that it might promote the cause of Liberalism or of

national unity. From this time forward Metternich, to all appearance,

dominated the Court and the Cabinet of Berlin, and held in leading

strings the minor princes of the Confederation. Nevertheless, the

position of Austria as a German Power was weakening steadily. At the

Congress of Vienna he had craftily withdrawn the empire from the

post of danger, and had thrust upon Prussia the task of protecting

the western flank of Germany. To his secret satisfaction, he saw her

pour out her treasure to defend the frontier from which Austria had

recoiled. He believed that by his _Carlsbad decrees_ and his _Vienna

resolutions_ he had rendered national unity impossible, and had

condemned Northern Germany to the political stagnation in which the

empire appeared contented to repose. But the enlightened bureaucratic

system of Prussia was incomparably superior to that of Austria. In

educational matters she was the foremost State in Europe, and already

she was drawing the minor States into her system of internal free

trade--the famous _Zollverein_ which was to prove so important a

factor in the struggle for Prussian hegemony and national unity. Even

in 1830, acute observers could perceive that the people were stifling

within the narrow confines of their duchies, and that, when the day

of Germany's awakening should come, it would be to the Power standing

on guard upon the Rhine that they would look for leadership.[20] But

that hour had not yet struck, and, in the question of the attitude to

be observed towards France, after the Revolution of July, Prussia, as

was her wont, shaped her policy upon that of Austria. The Emperor's

acknowledgment of Louis Philippe carried with it, accordingly,

Frederick William's recognition of the King of the French.

At St. Petersburg it was not until August 19 that any mention of

the Revolution of July was allowed to appear in the newspapers. Two

days earlier a new levy of two men in five hundred had been called

up for service in the army, all Russians had been ordered to leave

France, Frenchmen had been refused admission to Russia, and any

display of the tricolour had been forbidden. But Lord Heytesbury,[21]

the British ambassador, was informed that this increase of military

strength had no reference to French affairs, and that the recall of

Russian subjects from France was a simple measure of precaution.[22]

In the eyes of Nicholas any rising of the people against their

lawful sovereign was necessarily a highly offensive proceeding, and

in this instance it had the additional disadvantage of disturbing

a condition of affairs, the continued duration of which was very

favourable to the national policy of Russia. Under the different

governments of the Restoration an excellent understanding had been

established between the Courts of the Tuileries and of St. Petersburg.

The Eastern question, which had brought Russia to the verge of war

with England and which had interrupted the smooth course of her

relations with Vienna, had, on the contrary, drawn France towards

her. When, in the campaign of the previous year, Constantinople had

appeared to lie at the mercy of General Diebitsch, politicians as

opposed as Chateaubriand and Polignac had been disposed to look upon

the situation complacently, in the hope that the disruption of the

Turkish Empire might lead to a readjustment of the map of Europe,

which might enable France to rectify in her favour the treaties of

1815. Furthermore, since the intervention in Spain, in 1823, there had

been little cordiality between the Cabinets of London and Paris. This

estrangement had been intensified by the French occupation of Algiers,

the one important measure of foreign policy of the last government

of the Restoration. These circumstances rendered it very improbable

that Russia in the near future would have to confront a coalition of

the maritime Powers. But now that a new _régime_ had been set up in

France, the possibility of that dreaded contingency would have to be

seriously considered.

In spite of the Tsar's military preparations, Lord Heytesbury had no

fears that he proposed to attack France. Nicholas informed him that

he had directed his ambassador "to remain in Paris, but to remove

immediately from the house furnished to the Russian embassy by the

government of France." He was constantly to hold himself in readiness

to quit Paris at an hour's notice, and to leave at once, should

the English, the Prussian, the Austrian or the Dutch ambassadors

be compelled to depart. "_En âme et en conscience_ he never would

consider the Duc d'Orléans in any light except that of a usurper."

Nevertheless he had no intention of intervening, unless France were

to attempt to disseminate revolutionary doctrines in other countries

or to carry her arms beyond her frontiers.[23] In due course Baron

Atthalin arrived at St. Petersburg, bringing with him a letter from

Louis Philippe to the Tsar, and, on September 8, was received in

private audience by Nicholas. On this occasion the question of the

acknowledgment of the King of the French was avoided, the Emperor

being resolved to reserve the matter for further consideration. But

at Tsarskoye Selo, a week later, Nicholas, whilst regretting that

the British government should have so hastily decided to recognize

Louis Philippe, gave Lord Heytesbury to understand that his own

acknowledgment of the King of the French would not be deferred much

longer.[24]

In the meantime, an event had occurred which threatened seriously to

aggravate the embarrassments of the situation. The creation of the

Kingdom of the Netherlands occupied a most important place in the

territorial settlement following the overthrow of Bonaparte. British

statesmanship had been largely responsible for the union of Belgium

with Holland, and for the formation of a strong State of secondary

rank which was to act as a barrier against France. Under Wellington's

advice the great Powers, at their own expense, erected a line of

fortresses, connected with Prussian territory upon the left bank of

the Rhine, to protect the southern frontier of the new kingdom. From

a purely military point of view the plan may have been sound, but

to propose to mould the Belgians and the Dutch into a nation was to

treat as of no account the differences of race and of religion which

divided the two peoples. The Belgians soon began to complain that

they were very inadequately represented in all branches of the public

service. Questions relating to education, taxation, and the freedom of

the press increased their discontent. The Dutch, who could look back

proudly upon two centuries of independence, despised them as having

been constantly under the dominion of a foreign Power. In 1830 it was

generally recognized that the attempt to fuse the two peoples into one

nationality had failed. The Belgians, however, still remained loyal

to the House of Nassau and desired only administrative separation

under the reigning dynasty.

The Revolution of July in Paris created an immense excitement at

Brussels. The town was the favourite place of refuge for the political

offenders of all countries. Yet in spite of the prevailing unrest the

authorities neglected to take the most ordinary precautions against

a popular rising. A performance of Scribe's opera, _La Muette de

Portici_, which treats of the insurrection of the Neapolitans against

the Spaniards, furnished the spark which was to cause the explosion.

Serious rioting began on the night of August 25, and continued

throughout the following day. The military commander appears to have

acted with a strange irresolution, and on the 28th, the insurgents

being complete masters of the town, a deputation of notables carried

a respectful address to the Hague praying for the redress of their

grievances. The next three weeks were spent in fruitless attempts

to arrange a compromise. The Prince of Orange, who was personally

popular, visited Brussels, but his efforts to solve the question

met with no success. After the failure of his eldest son's mission

the King consented to dismiss van Maanen, the unpopular governor

of Brussels. But this concession was made too late. Encouraged by

emissaries of the revolutionary clubs in Paris, and emboldened by

the weakness of the government, the advocates of complete separation

pressed their demands with increasing violence. At last the King

ordered Prince Frederick of Orange to advance from the camp of

Vilvorde against the town. On September 23 the attack began. The

troops penetrated into the park, but failed to carry the barricades

which obstructed the streets beyond. After three days' fighting the

Prince abandoned the struggle and withdrew from the neighbourhood

of Brussels. The discomfiture of his army left King William no

alternative but to appeal for assistance to the Powers, whilst at

Brussels a provisional government declared Belgium independent, and

convened a national congress.

This attempt on the part of a neighbouring people to imitate "the

glorious days of July" was exceedingly gratifying to the republicans

and the military democratic party in Paris. Their orators and

journalists loudly declared that the revolt of the Belgians was an

opportunity both for extending the French frontiers, and for effecting

a breach in the treaties of 1815. Louis Philippe, however, was

resolved not to be drawn into an adventure of this kind. He knew that

the powers would never tolerate an invasion of the Low Countries,

and he realized that the French army was in no condition to oppose a

European coalition. Accordingly, as it was not in his power to silence

the cries for intervention or to repress the noisy sympathy for the

Belgians indulged in by a large section of the press, he determined

to give to foreign governments a practical proof of his pacific

intentions by despatching to London, as his ambassador, the aged

statesman who, sixteen years before, had figured so conspicuously at

the Congress of Vienna.

The Prince de Talleyrand was in his seventy-third year.

Notwithstanding the great services which, in 1814, he had rendered to

the cause of Legitimate Sovereignty, the Bourbons of the elder branch

had never been able to forget his conduct under the Republic and the

Empire. At the second Restoration he had been appointed President

of the Council, but had retired before the _Chambre introuvable_

and the Royalist reaction, and neither Louis XVIII. nor Charles X.

had given him a second opportunity of returning to office. Upon the

triumph of the popular party in July, he had promptly placed his

services at the disposal of Louis Philippe. But, in spite of his

Liberal opinions, Talleyrand retained the language, the habits, and

the appearance of a noble of the old _régime_. It might have been

expected that all the King's ingenuity would have been required to

impose so fine a gentleman upon a Cabinet, which counted among its

members the democratic M. Dupont and the elder M. Dupin, famous for

his hobnailed boots and his affectations of middle-class simplicity.

Louis Philippe's ministers, however, were agreed upon the necessity of

preserving the peace, and, when it was proposed at the Council table

that Talleyrand should be sent to London, no opposition was made to

the suggestion. Guizot, who was Minister of the Interior at the time,

supposes that those who disliked the appointment must have stated

their objections to the King in private.[25]

But if Louis Philippe and his ministers were determined to abstain

from any intervention in Belgium, they were bound to insist that

other Powers should adopt the same attitude. It was, therefore,

notified to foreign governments that French policy, in the future,

would be based strictly upon the principle of non-interference in

the domestic affairs of other nations. It was a system to which both

the great parties in England had declared their adherence, and its

adoption by France might, in consequence, be expected to facilitate

the establishment of cordial relations between the two countries.

But the declaration of such a principle could not fail to be highly

displeasing to the absolute Courts. Already movements of troops were

in progress in the Rhine provinces which suggested an intention on

the part of Frederick William of rendering military assistance to

his brother-in-law, the King of the Netherlands. Baron Werther, the

Prussian ambassador, although still without official credentials,

had been instructed to remain in Paris. Molé, Louis Philippe's first

Minister for Foreign Affairs, accordingly arranged to meet him at

a private house, where he gave him clearly to understand that the

entry of a Prussian army into the Low Countries would be regarded

as an act of war directed against France. This threat, which evoked

much indignation in Berlin and at Vienna, was effectual in inducing

King Frederick William III. to renounce any thoughts, which he may

have entertained, of reducing the Belgians to submission by force of

arms.[26]

Talleyrand arrived in London on September 24, and in a despatch,

sent off the next day, expressed his satisfaction at the reception

accorded him.[27] He was accompanied by the Duchesse de Dino, who

officiated as hostess at his table, and presided over his household.

In 1807, at the conclusion of the campaign in Poland, Talleyrand, then

Napoleon's Minister for Foreign Affairs, had obtained for his nephew,

Edmond de Périgord, the hand of Dorothée, the daughter of the last

reigning Duke of Courland. After a few years of married life, however,

husband and wife agreed to live apart, and Madame Edmond from that

time forward took up her residence with Talleyrand. She accompanied

him to Vienna, in 1814, and brought back from the Congress the title

of Duchesse de Dino. In return for the services he had rendered him,

the King of Naples had conferred this dukedom upon Talleyrand, who

had asked that the title might be assumed by his nephew. The duchess'

position in Talleyrand's household was so generally recognized that,

upon their arrival in London, King William IV., at Wellington's

request, allowed her to take rank as an ambassadress.[28] The Comte

Casimir de Montrond, another frequent guest at Valençay, and at the

house in the Rue Saint-Florentin, followed the ambassador to London.

Talleyrand's friendship with this curious individual appears to have

begun under the Directory. In the terrible days which preceded the

downfall of Robespierre, Montrond had been an inmate of the prison

of Saint-Lazare. The fortunate possession of some ready money, a

rare commodity at the time, had, however, enabled him to effect his

escape, and that of the citizeness Franquetot, the heretofore Aimée de

Coigny, Duchesse de Fleury, the heroine of André Chénier's poem.[29]

After this miraculous deliverance, Aimée de Coigny, who under the

emigration laws had divorced the Duc de Fleury, married the man to

whom she owed her life. But, after a brief and most unsatisfactory

experience of matrimony with the gay _incroyable_, she again contrived

to obtain her freedom. Montrond's introduction to London society

appears to date from the year 1812, when, having incurred the grave

displeasure of Bonaparte, he succeeded in eluding the French police

and in reaching England. He seems to have become very rapidly a

well-known and popular member of the fashionable world in London.

During all this period of his life he is believed to have been totally

without regular means of subsistence, and to have existed solely by

play, assisted by an occasional windfall in the shape of employment

upon any secret political work which Talleyrand, when in favour, was

enabled to procure for him. But from the earliest days of the Monarchy

of July his circumstances began to improve. From this time forward he

appears to have drawn a pension of about £1000 _per annum_ from the

secret service funds of the French Foreign Office.[30] This allowance

is said to have been granted him in order that "he should speak well

of Louis Philippe in the London clubs." It was, moreover, strongly

suspected that he had obtained knowledge of certain of the King's

proceedings during the emigration which His Majesty had good reasons

for wishing to keep secret.[31]

The uneasiness aroused in London by the first news of the insurrection

in Brussels developed into serious alarm, when the triumph of the

revolutionists over the Royal troops became known. Wellington openly

declared that it was a "devilish bad business," and many people began

to fear that a great European war was inevitable.[32] The British

government, whilst prepared to accept as an accomplished fact the

complete separation of Belgium from the Kingdom of the Netherlands,

held that no changes must take place of a nature to interfere with the

efficiency of the barrier fortresses, these defences "being necessary

for the security of other States." After drawing up instructions to

this effect for Lord Stuart de Rothesay, Aberdeen intimated that

the government was desirous of conferring upon the situation "in

friendly concert with France and the other Powers."[33] Talleyrand

was of opinion that it was a matter for congratulation that the first

offer of co-operation should have come from England, and strongly

recommended that the proposal should be responded to cordially. An

entirely passive attitude, he wrote, must deprive France "of that

influence which they are disposed to ascribe to her over here."[34]

Meanwhile, in Paris, notices were appearing in the papers calling

upon men to enroll themselves to assist their Belgian brothers. The

_Society of the Friends of the People_ equipped a battalion which

actually set out for the northern frontier. La Fayette was still

the recognized leader of the ultra-Liberals, and his house was a

meeting-place for the _Carbonari_ and the revolutionists of every

country. But he was occupied chiefly in encouraging insurrectionary

movements in Spain and Italy. The union of Belgium with France

was advocated mainly in the ranks of the Bonapartist or military

democratic section of the party. The protestations of Louis Philippe

and Comte Molé were probably true that the government in no way

favoured their designs, and that strict orders had been given to the

prefects to prevent the passage of arms into Belgium. On the other

hand, however, their assertions to Lord Stuart were untrue that

they were innocent of conniving at the proceedings of the Spanish

revolutionists. Broglie and Guizot, both members of the Cabinet,

admit that in order to compel the King of Spain to acknowledge Louis

Philippe, facilities for assembling their followers upon French

territory were accorded to the Spanish insurrectionary leaders.

This rather disingenuous policy appears, without question, to have

contributed materially to the establishment of diplomatic relations

between Paris and Madrid at the end of the month of October.[35]

None of the Powers evinced any intention of responding to the King

of Holland's request for military assistance to subdue the revolted

Belgians. The English proposal that a conference should be held to

consider the situation was generally regarded as the best solution of

the question. "Austria and Prussia," wrote Talleyrand on October 11,

"intend to follow the lead of England with respect to Belgium, and

there can be little doubt that Russia will adopt the same course."[36]

The French government at this time was greatly incensed at the conduct

of the Cabinet of the Hague. No official appeal for help had been

sent to Paris, but in a letter to Louis Philippe the Prince of Orange

openly accused the French authorities of encouraging the disturbances

in Belgium, and suggested that the King should make a public

declaration of his intention not to meddle with the affairs of the Low

Countries. In return, the Prince undertook to use all his influence

with the Tsar in favour of the acknowledgment of the sovereignty of

the King of the French. At a Council of Ministers it was resolved

that Talleyrand should be instructed to bring the affair to the

notice of the British Cabinet, and that Molé should draw up a note

for presentation at the Hague, expressing surprise at the continued

silence observed towards the French government. Two days later,

however, the news was telegraphed from Strasburg that General Atthalin

had passed through the town, bringing with him the Tsar's recognition

of Louis Philippe. But, upon the general's arrival, the satisfaction

caused by this intelligence was diminished by the cold and formal

language of Nicholas's letter, and by his pointed omission to address

the King as "his brother," the designation generally employed by

sovereigns in their communications with each other.[37]

The proposal of the English government that a conference should

be held upon Belgian affairs having been accepted by the

Powers, it remained only to decide upon the town in which the

deliberations should take place. London, where for some time past

the representatives of Russia, France, and Great Britain had been

engaged in settling the frontiers and discussing the future of Greece,

appeared to be the capital in which, by reason of its proximity

to Brussels, the plenipotentiaries could assemble with the least

inconvenience. France alone dissented from this view, and urgently

demanded that the conference should be held in Paris. Aberdeen, when

Talleyrand communicated to him his instructions upon the subject,

would appear to have seen little to object to in the French proposal.

Wellington, however, refused to entertain the suggestion, for a

moment. It was highly important, the Duke contended, that matters

should be settled promptly, and he was confident that he could induce

the ministers attending the conference to agree to the French and

English proposals, provided they were to meet in London. On the other

hand, were Paris to be the scene of their deliberations, they would

insist upon referring every question to their respective Courts.

Talleyrand, who considered that there was much sound reason in the

Duke's contention, was nevertheless directed to reiterate his demand.

But his further representations only evoked the reply that the English

Cabinet regarded Paris as _un terrain trop agité_, and at a subsequent

interview, on October 25, in the presence of the ambassadors of

Austria and Prussia, the Duke assured him that the Powers were

unanimous in opposing the notion of discussing the affairs of the

Low Countries amidst the _tourbillon révolutionaire_ of the French

capital.[38]

In his conversations with Lord Stuart de Rothesay in Paris, Molé,

in order to gain his ends, had recourse to a singular argument.

Talleyrand himself, he explained, constituted the true reason why the

government was desirous that the Belgian conference should not take

place in London. He never would have been accredited to the Court of

St. James' had ministers foreseen how greatly the public would resent

his appointment. To allow him to represent France at a very important

conference would expose the Cabinet to attacks which must prove

fatal to its existence. "This extraordinary reason for objecting to

our proposition," wrote Aberdeen, "does not appear to His Majesty's

government to be entitled to serious consideration." Molé nevertheless

continued to press his point with much warmth, and it was only after

several more interviews with Lord Stuart that he began to talk of

sending a second plenipotentiary to the London conference to be

associated with Talleyrand.[39] This plan, which was probably not put

forward seriously, was certainly never carried into execution. At the

end of October, the Cabinet was reconstructed, and Molé resigned the

portfolio of Foreign Affairs. After his retirement no further allusion

appears to have been made to the alleged inconvenience of Talleyrand's

presence at the London conference. Molé was perhaps jealous of

allowing him to conduct these important negotiations, in which he

probably desired himself to play the chief part. He was a highly

cultivated man, with much charm of manner, and of an ancient family,

and in Imperial days had enjoyed the favour of the Emperor, and had

held important positions. Under the Restoration he had been Minister

of Marine in Richelieu's first administration, and in this capacity

had incurred Louis XVIII.'s displeasure by intriguing against his

favourite the Duc Décazes.

The Cabinet, known as that of August 11th, had never been a united

body. Guizot, Broglie, Molé and Casimir Périer constituted the

Conservative element, whilst Laffitte and Dupont were opposed to all

measures which savoured of resistance to progress upon democratic

lines. The riots of October 17 and 18, in Paris, the mob's protest

against the apparent intention of the government to abolish the

death penalty in political cases, in order to save the lives of the

imprisoned ex-ministers of Charles X., brought matters to a crisis.

Seeing that the King decidedly inclined to the views of Laffitte and

the so-called party of _laissez-aller_ the Conservatives, advising

him to give the policy of their dissenting colleagues a fair trial,

tendered their resignations. Laffitte was accordingly charged with the

task of reconstructing the Cabinet.[40]

On November 2, the day on which the composition of the new French

ministry was published in the _Moniteur_, King William IV. formally

opened the British Parliament. In the Speech from the Throne, the

Belgians were described as "revolted subjects" and the intention was

expressed of repressing sternly disturbances at home. In the House of

Lords, Grey deprecated the employment of such language, and, in reply,

Wellington made his declaration against Reform. A fortnight later,

upon a motion of Sir Henry Parnell for referring the Civil List to a

select committee, the government was placed in a minority. The Duke

thereupon resigned and advised the King to send for Grey. Lord Grey

undertook to form a ministry upon the understanding that he was to

bring forward a measure of Reform.

England and the Orléans Monarchy · 第 2 / 13 章