England and the Orléans Monarchy

by John Hall

The Cabinets of Lord Grey and of M. Casimir Périer had always regarded the execution of the separation treaty as a measure which must necessarily follow its ratification by the five contracting Powers. But, during the spring and early summer of 1832, ministers, both in France and in England, were confronted by an internal situation of exceptional gravity. The Lords, on April 14, had passed the second reading of the third Reform Bill by a narrow majority. On May 7, however, three days after Russia had ratified the Belgian treaty, Lord Lyndhurst successfully carried against the government a motion postponing the clause which disfranchised the boroughs. The Cabinet, therefore, decided to advise the King “to advance to the honour of the peerage such a number of persons as might ensure the success of the Bill in all its essential principles.”[226]

In the early days of the struggle the King had been a keen advocate of parliamentary reform. But the violent opposition which the measure had excited had sensibly altered his feelings. Nor was it only with respect to the Bill that His Majesty was beginning to entertain misgivings. The conduct of foreign affairs had, for some time past, caused him grave anxiety. He perceived, he wrote to Lord Grey, a dangerous tendency on the part of the government to subscribe to all the democratic theories which found favour in Paris. He realized the importance of good relations with France, and he was prepared to admit that it might be due to the existence of such an understanding that war had been avoided in the Belgian question. But he mistrusted France and could not believe that she had abandoned her schemes of conquest and of territorial expansion. He held, therefore, that it was impolitic to “unite too closely with her in the prosecution of measures tending to give umbrage and alarm to other Powers.”[227]

In consequence of these criticisms Lord Grey signified his willingness to resign. But a second letter from the King and a conversation, in which His Majesty assured him that he still enjoyed his full confidence, induced him to remain in office. A fortnight later, however, when the King declined to follow the advice, contained in the Cabinet minute of May 8, to create a sufficient number of peers to enable the Bill to pass, the government resigned. But the excitement throughout the country and the attitude of the House of Commons compelled Lord Lyndhurst and the Duke of Wellington to abandon all hope of forming a ministry. In face of their inability to carry out the task with which he had entrusted them, the King had no alternative but to send for his late ministers and to give them the guarantees, which they made an indispensable condition to their acceptation of office. Lord Grey, however, was spared the necessity of resorting to the powers which the crown had placed at his disposal. In deference to the King’s wishes[228] Wellington and the chief opponents of the measure agreed to stay away from the House, and on June 4, in their absence, the Bill was passed into law.

France was less fortunate. Her domestic difficulties were only temporarily overcome after grave disorder and much bloodshed. The cholera, brought back by the Russian armies from Turkey, had spread westwards. The disease, which made its first appearance in England in the latter months of 1831, did terrible execution in Paris during the spring and summer of 1832. M. Casimir Périer, who had been in bad health for some time past, was its most illustrious victim. His death, on May 16, 1832, was the signal for a furious outburst of hostility on the part of the parliamentary opponents of his system. At the same time the avowed enemies of the Orleans monarchy, both Republican and Carlist, actively prepared to take advantage of the situation. The Society of the Friends of the People, in defiance of the police, held meetings at which armed insurrection was preached openly. “I was present at one of them,” wrote Heinrich Heine, “the smell reminded me of an old file of the Moniteur of 1793 grown dirty from too much reading.”[229]

The funeral, on June 5, of General Lamarque, the most prominent advocate in the Chamber of the union of Belgium with France, was chosen by the revolutionary leaders as a favourable occasion for striking their blow. But the authorities were upon the alert and both regular troops and national guards were quickly upon the scene of action. Nevertheless, it was not until artillery had been brought up that, on the following day, June 6, the great barricade at the Cloître Saint-Merri was stormed and that this formidable insurrection was finally suppressed. Nor was it only in the streets of Paris that the government had to deal with an armed rising. On June 4 the Duchesse de Berri, the mother of the Duc de Bordeaux, the lawful King of France in the eyes of the Carlists, raised the standard of rebellion in La Vendée. But her insurrection, which had been undertaken against the advice of the wiser of the Carlists and of the old Royalist leaders in the West, was, in a few days, stamped out completely. The defence of the Château de la Pénissière, where a handful of Carlist gentlemen made a brave stand against overwhelming odds, imparted, however, a tinge of heroism to this, the last and the least famous of the Royalist rebellions of La Vendée.

Following quickly upon the defeat of the republicans in Paris and of the Carlists in the West, came the news that the Duc de Reichstadt, the heretofore King of Rome, was dying of consumption at Vienna. But Metternich, in transmitting this information, desired that Louis Philippe’s attention should be especially directed “to his successor in the eyes of the Bonapartists.” The young Louis Bonaparte, he begged him to remember, was not under the safeguard of the Emperor of Austria, but, on the contrary, “was deeply involved in all the machinations of the revolutionary societies.”[230] Few people, however, shared Metternich’s forebodings, and the death of the Duc de Reichstadt, which took place on July 22, 1832, was generally considered, even by staunch Imperialists, to have disposed effectually of the chances of a Bonapartist restoration.[231] But neither the successful suppression of two rebellions, nor the decease of a dangerous pretender to the throne could make up for the loss of the President of the Council. The death of M. Casimir Périer had deprived the Cabinet of its strength and prestige. Louis Philippe, whilst doing full justice to the courage and abilities of his late minister, was perhaps not altogether sorry that his masterful personality no longer presided at the council table. The rôle of a constitutional monarch was never to his taste. He longed always to take a direct part in the management of public affairs, and rather liked his people to think that his was the hand which guided the ship of State. He was, therefore, in no great hurry to appoint a new President of the Council. He soon perceived, however, that a prolongation of this state of affairs would be prejudicial to the best interests of the monarchy both at home and abroad.

For the past two months the London conference had been engaged upon fruitless efforts to induce the King of the Netherlands to agree to the separation treaty. Moreover, His Majesty’s obstinacy was not the only difficulty with which the representatives of the Powers had to deal. The Belgians clamoured loudly for the execution of the treaty, and declared that, so long as the Dutch retained possession of Antwerp, they must decline to discuss any modification of its conditions.[232] Oblivious of their disasters of the year before, they even began to talk of ejecting the Dutch by force, and, as though to prove the seriousness of their intentions, proceeded to enrol Polish officers in their army, and to make other warlike preparations.[233]

Although determined that the main conditions of the treaty must be left untouched, the members of the conference were anxious that the minor points in dispute should form the subject of amicable discussions between the Dutch and Belgian representatives. It was on this principle that all their proposals had been made. But neither at the Hague nor at Brussels was any disposition evinced to listen to reasonable suggestions for a compromise.

At last, on July 10, the plenipotentiaries decided to forward their final proposals to the Hague and to announce, at the same time, that, if they were not accepted, no further modifications of the original treaty would be submitted. Little hope, however, was entertained that the King’s obduracy would be overcome without a resort to force. But before proceeding to adopt more active measures the British government decided to dispatch Lord Durham upon a special mission to St. Petersburg. Ill-health had recently compelled Lord Heytesbury to relinquish his post, and his successor had not as yet been appointed. The King of the Netherlands, it was believed, still trusted that the Tsar would intervene on his behalf, should France and England begin hostilities against him. Lord Durham was therefore charged to endeavour to persuade the Emperor Nicholas “to give immediate instructions to the Russian plenipotentiaries at the conference to co-operate cordially and effectually in whatever measures might appear best calculated to effect an early execution of the treaty.” He was to state most positively that France and England, under any circumstances, were resolved to fulfil the engagements which they had contracted towards Belgium. Lastly, he was to explain the views of His Majesty’s government upon Italian, German and Polish affairs.[234]