My inchoate letter on the 16th was cut short by the Crown Prince of Prussia, with whom I had an interesting conversation. He is even more pacific than his Father, and unlike his Father would be glad to put the army on something more like a peace footing. The King however is unapproachable on this subject, but the Prince says that in a year or two he will have to yield to the outcry of the people against the increased taxation that such monster armaments entail. He means to consult some experienced officers as to the manner in which reduction can be made without offence to the dignity of his martial Sire, and he said that something had been done in that direction by postponing till January the assembling of the levies that ought to have taken place in October. I urged strongly upon him the necessity of maintaining the status quo, and particularly warned him against the incorporation of the Grand Duchy of Baden into the Northern Confederation. He quite entered into the reasons for this and said it would probably be a long time before the interests of the South would necessitate a junction with the North, although it would ultimately be inevitable.
When I last saw you on my way home from St. Cloud I told you that the Emperor wished me to report my conversation with him to the Queen of Prussia—I did so. She forwarded my letter to the King and sent me his answer, which was not only pacific but extremely courteous to the Emperor. He said there was no fear of the status quo being changed now, but that some time or other the South and North must be united, and that it would be far better to calmer les esprits by teaching people to expect it and not to look upon it as a danger or a menace to France, which it would not be any more than the existing state of things. I wrote all this to the Emperor who assured me that the King of Prussia's opinions had interested him much and that he agreed in his views about the inexpediency of a Congress.—Disraeli made a bad use at the Lord Mayor's dinner of your letter giving an account of my interview with the Emperor, for he gave it to be understood that Stanley was successfully mediating between France and Prussia, etc; La Tour d'Auvergne, to whom the Emperor had told our conversation, was much annoyed and feared that he might be thought guilty of an indiscretion.
I was glad to learn by your letter of the 15th that you thought well of the Emperor's health, as reports have of late been rife that he was failing both in body and mind—their object was probably, and as usual, some Bourse speculation.
The chronic anxiety with regard to the relations between France and Prussia which prevailed at this time was partially forgotten early in 1869 in consequence of a slight crisis in the East. The Cretan Insurrection had lasted for several years, and the Turks had shown themselves incapable of suppressing it in consequence of the attitude of the Greek Government, which, supported by Russia, openly encouraged the revolutionary movement. Greek armed cruisers ran the blockade, volunteers openly showed themselves in uniform in the Greek towns, and the Greeks showed a disposition to go to war, rightly assuming that Europe would never allow their country to be reconquered. At length the situation, from the Turkish point of view, became intolerable, and in December, 1868, the Turkish Government delivered an ultimatum, which was rejected by the Greeks and diplomatic relations were broken off. The opportunity was at once seized by the Emperor Napoleon in order to propose a Conference. Conferences had, as is well known, a special attraction for Napoleon III., who delighted to figure as a magnificent and beneficent arbiter graciously condescending to settle the squabbles of inferior beings, but a Conference has also often captivated the imagination of many diplomatists besides the late Prince Gortchakoff, whose chief delight it was to make orations to his colleagues. Nothing produces so agreeable a flutter in diplomacy as the prospect of a Conference. Where shall it be held? What is to be its basis? Who are to be the representatives? What Governments shall be entitled to appear? If such a one is invited, will it be possible to exclude another? And supposing these knotty points to be satisfactorily settled, shall some Power possessing doubtful credentials be allowed a voix consultative, or a voix délibérative? In this particular case, there was no difficulty in fixing upon the place, but there was considerable difficulty with regard to the participation of Greece, as Turkey flatly refused to meet her. The prospect of a Conference was not viewed with much satisfaction by Lord Clarendon, who asked awkward but necessary questions about 'basis' and so forth, and warned Lord Lyons that he would have to be very firm with La Valette on this point, 'as I know by experience in 1856 how fickle the Emperor is, and how invariably his minister changes with him, and throws over the engagements upon which we had the best reason to rely.'
Neither did Lord Lyons look forward to it with any pleasure: 'The Conference seems likely to bring into strong light some things which would perhaps be better in the shade,' he wrote. 'For instance, an understanding between Russia and Prussia on the Eastern Question; bitterness between Austria and Russia, etc., etc. I understand that there is great rejoicing over the prospect of the Conference at the Tuileries.' Probably Lord Lyons's distaste arose partly from the fact that foreign diplomatists have a habit of coming and rehearsing to their colleagues the speeches with which they propose subsequently to electrify the assembled Conference. It is only fair to admit, however, that the Conference was brought to a fairly satisfactory conclusion. The Greeks, who had given a great deal of trouble with their consequential pretensions, were admitted under a voix consultative condition, and a settlement was arrived at which enabled diplomatic relations to be resumed with Turkey. To put it shortly, the Greeks were informed that they were bound to respect the rules common to all Governments in their future dealing with the Ottoman Empire (surely not a very onerous provision), and the hope was expressed that all the causes for complaint embodied in the ultimatum of the Porte would be removed. Crete, in consequence, remained comparatively quiet for about ten years. When, however, a few days after the satisfactory conclusion of this business, the Prussian Government came forward with a proposal that there should be yet another Conference at Paris on International Postage, M. de La Valette was obliged summarily to reject it, as 'the French public was sick to death of the very word.'
Early in 1869, considerable apprehension was created by the Luxemburg railway affair. A French and a Belgian railway company whose lines adjoined, had endeavoured to bring about an amalgamation, and the Belgian Chamber, naturally afraid of the consequences which might result from French influences within Belgian territory, passed an Act prohibiting concessions of railways without the authorization of the Government. This action caused considerable ill-feeling in France, and a universal belief existed that the Belgian Government had been instigated by Bismarck. It was obvious that England could not remain indifferent to the danger of what would now be called the 'peaceful penetration' of France into Belgium,—in other words, the ultimate annexation of that country—and one of the first notes of alarm seems to have been sounded by no less a person than Queen Victoria.
General Grey to Lord Clarendon.
Osborne, Jan. 14, 1869.
The Queen desired me to write to you yesterday in returning the private letters you sent her with reference to what you said in one of your letters of the probable designs of France in Belgium. Her Majesty wished me to inform you that she had more than once called the attention of the late Government to this subject. The King of the Belgians in writing to her had repeatedly expressed his apprehensions that either by means of a Customs convention or by the purchase by a French company of the Luxemburg Railway to which unusual privileges and advantages would be conceded by the French Government, France might seek to obtain a footing in Belgium highly dangerous to her future independence and neutrality. Her Majesty, though hoping the King might exaggerate the danger, has invariably expressed the strongest opinion that England was bound, not only by the obligations of treaties, but by interests of vital importance to herself, to maintain the integrity and independence as well as the neutrality of Belgium; and that the best security for these essential objects would be found in the knowledge that any proceedings which seemed to threaten their violation would bring England at once into the field.
Her Majesty did not mean that any official communication should be made on the subject, but that the habitual language of our ministers at Berlin and Paris should be such as to leave no doubt as to the determination of England.
This communication from the Queen was followed not long afterwards by a memorandum from Mr. Gladstone, laying stress upon the fact that the 'independence of Belgium was an object of the first interest to the mind of the British People,' and hoping that it would be made clear to the French Government 'that the suspicion even of an intention on the part of France to pay less respect to the independence of Belgium than to the independence of England would at once produce a temper in the country which would put an end to the good understanding and useful and harmonious co-operation of the two Governments.' This was very clear language—especially for Mr. Gladstone—and the Ambassador was directed to hint to the French Government that Belgium was under our special protection.