Historical Characters: Mackintosh, Talleyrand, Canning, Cobbett, Peel

by Baron Henry Lytton Bulwer Dalling and Bulwer

“The Council assembles: it was composed of MM. de Talleyrand, Dambray, de Feltre, de Fancourt, Beurnonville, and myself” (M. de Beugnot is speaking).

“After a few words from M. de Talleyrand, explanatory of the subject which was to be brought before the Council, I commenced reading the proclamation, such as it remained after the corrections made in it; the King permitted me to read it to the end, and then, though not without some emotion that his face betrayed, told me to read it once more.

“Monsieur then spoke, and complained bitterly of the terms in which the proclamation was drawn up. ‘The King,’ he said, ‘is made to ask pardon for the faults he committed. He is made to say that he allowed himself to be carried away by his affections, and that for the future he will conduct himself differently. Such expressions can only do this mischief—lower royalty; for in all other respects they say too much or too little.’

“M. de Talleyrand replied: ‘Monsieur will pardon me if I differ from him; I find these expressions necessary, and appropriately placed. The King has had faults, his affections have misled him. There is nothing too much in this paper.’ ‘Is it I?’ said Monsieur, ‘whom it is intended indirectly to point out?’ ‘Why, yes, since Monsieur has placed the discussion on that ground, Monsieur has done a great deal of harm.’ ‘The Prince de Talleyrand forgets himself.’ ‘I fear so, but truth carries me away.’ The Duc de Berry, with the accent of anger painfully restrained: ‘Nothing but the presence of the King would permit me to tolerate this treatment of my father before me, and I would like to know——’ At these words, pronounced in a higher tone than the rest, the King made a sign to the Duc de Berry, and said, ‘Enough, my nephew; I am the only person to judge of the propriety of what is said in my presence, and in my Council. Gentlemen, I neither approve of the terms of this proclamation, nor of the conversation to which it has given rise. The framer must retouch his work, not forgetting that when I speak, it must be with a due sense of my dignity and high position.’ The Duc de Berry, pointing at me: ‘But it is not he who has strung all this nonsense together.’ The King: ‘Forbear interrupting, nephew, if you please. I repeat, gentlemen, that I have listened to this discussion with much regret. Let us turn to another subject.’”

XIII.

The proclamation with some slight alterations was published, and M. de Talleyrand finally carried his point, and formed his ministry. It is difficult to place oneself so completely in the troubled scene of Paris at this time, amidst the confused society composed of a defeated army, disappointed Republicans, triumphant Royalists, all uneasy and agitated in their actual position, and without the possibility of a common attachment to what was to be their government—it is difficult, I say, to take into a comprehensive glance the confused and troubled state of the French capital, disturbed by a thousand plots which might at any moment concentrate into one—and, therefore, it is difficult to appreciate the possible necessity of employing an able and dexterous adventurer, who had pulled many of the cords of the machine which had now to be brought into harmonious working. Still, I venture to consider that the Duke of Wellington committed an error in recommending, and M. de Talleyrand an error in accepting, M. Fouché as a member of the cabinet about to be formed.

The late minister of police was, in fact, at this time, an acknowledged scoundrel; he had gained our favour by betraying his master’s secrets to our general; he had gained the favour of the extreme Royalists by concealing their plots, and keeping safe their persons when he was serving the government they were attempting to overthrow. He had betrayed the Republicans of France to the Emperor of France, and he had subsequently betrayed the Emperor of France to the foreigner; and he had voted for the death of the brother of the monarch who was now to sit upon the throne. It was impossible for a man of this sort, whatever his abilities, not to bring ultimate disgrace on the government that enrolled him in its ranks; and, in fact, by his successive efforts, first to gain one party, and then to gain the other, by his personal ambition, by his constant intrigues, and by the general distrust he inspired, he deprived his colleagues of the consideration of all honest men, and exposed them consequently to the attacks of all violent factions.

But if England committed a fault in approving of the appointment of the Duc d’Otrante, she committed another fault still more important.

In designating M. de Talleyrand as the man best calculated to establish a government in France, and to consolidate an alliance between France and England, we ought to have been prepared to render the position of that minister tenable and honourable. Whether rightly or wrongly, we, in common with the other four powers, had made war, for a second time, on precisely the same principles on which we had made it for the first; since we had made it with the same declaration, that our conflict was with a man, and not with a nation. Our second peace, therefore, ought to have been in strict conformity with our first, or, rather, our first treaty of peace should have been maintained. We were dealing with the same monarch under the same circumstances, and we ought to have done so, preserving the same conditions.

If new circumstances of importance,—circumstances we had not foreseen,—rendered a change of policy necessary, that change should have been a large one, based on large considerations, and its necessity should have been clearly explained.