England and the Orléans Monarchy

by John Hall

[CHAPTER IX]

THE CORDIAL UNDERSTANDING

Lord Aberdeen, the Secretary for Foreign Affairs in Sir Robert Peel’s Cabinet, had held the same office in the government of the Duke of Wellington. He had had to deal, as will be remembered, with the question of the recognition of Louis Philippe and with the attitude which England was to observe towards the revolution in Belgium. His first experience of diplomacy had been gained in the days of the great war. In 1813, as quite a young man, he had been sent upon a special mission to Vienna, and had been concerned in the negotiations which had resulted in the entry of Austria into the coalition. During the campaign in Germany he had accompanied the headquarters of the allied armies and had been profoundly impressed by the scenes of which he had been a witness. Whether justified or not, the belief prevailed widely that, should complications arise, the spectacle of Leipsic after “the battle of the nations” would be ever present before the eyes of England’s Foreign Secretary.[713]

With regard to the more important questions which the Foreign Office had in hand, or with which it had recently been called upon to deal, Aberdeen was in substantial agreement with Palmerston. He approved of his policy in the Egyptian affair and endorsed his views as to the necessity of encouraging Spain to shake off the influence of France. But he was at the same time intensely desirous of replacing Franco-British relations upon their former intimate footing, and of allaying the irritation which the Treaty of July had aroused. To attain this end he was prepared to make far greater concessions than any to which Palmerston would have consented. No one was so convinced as he of the truth of the saying, ascribed to the Duke of Wellington, that the peace of Europe would remain unbroken, so long as France and England were united. It was not in their policies, but in their personal characters, that lay the real difference between Aberdeen and Palmerston. Aberdeen was by nature conciliatory. Palmerston was instinctively combative, and would rarely deny himself the pleasure of relentlessly exposing the fallacies of an opponent’s arguments. Aberdeen, although in some respects more of a Liberal than his predecessor, had a scholar’s abhorrence, which had been intensified by his former relations with Metternich and other continental statesmen, of all movements of a revolutionary character. Palmerston was a man of coarser fibre, but of wider sympathies, than his grave and studious successor.

Notwithstanding the earnest desire of both Lord Aberdeen and of M. Guizot to bring matters to a successful conclusion, the first important transaction between the new British government and the French Foreign Office led to no satisfactory result. In 1831, and again in 1833, France and England had contracted certain engagements towards each other for the purpose of suppressing the slave trade. They had agreed that their cruisers should stop and overhaul any suspected vessel, whether flying the French or the British flag. Palmerston, however, had not been content with an arrangement, which limited the right of search to ships purporting to be of French or English nationality. He, accordingly, in combination with France, made representations on the subject to the other Powers and succeeded in inducing them to agree to the principle which the French and English governments had adopted. The new convention, to which all the chief European Powers were to be parties, was ready for signature at the time when it became evident that a change of government in England was about to take place. Palmerston, who had always been keenly interested in suppressing the slave trade, was particularly anxious that his name should be affixed to an international agreement which, he hoped, would prove the means of abolishing a traffic which he abhorred. M. Guizot, however, saw fit purposely to delay matters in order to deprive him of this satisfaction. Nor did he make any secret of his reasons for acting in this manner. Palmerston’s attitude towards him, he complained to Henry Bulwer, had been unfriendly. In his dispatch of November 2, 1840,[714] he had shown a total lack of consideration for the difficulties of his position, and in a recent speech to his constituents at Tiverton he had made some highly offensive remarks about the manner in which the French military authorities in Algeria were carrying on their war with the Arab tribes.[715]

But, once Lord Aberdeen was installed in Downing Street, M. Guizot’s objections to proceeding with the slave trade convention disappeared. The necessary powers were sent to Sainte-Aulaire, the French ambassador, and, on December 20, 1841, the treaty, regulating the right of search, was signed in London. It was soon clear, however, that M. Guizot had been mistaken in supposing that the Chamber would agree to ratify the agreement into which he had entered. The opposition to slavery had never been so pronounced in France as in England, and the Treaty of July had greatly stimulated the old feeling of jealousy of British maritime supremacy. By reason of England’s naval preponderance, the duty of stopping suspected vessels must necessarily devolve chiefly upon her officers. Both in the French Chambers and in the press it was hotly contended that the new treaty was but a device, by means of which England purposed to arrogate to herself the right of policing the sea. So keen was this feeling that M. Guizot was forced to inform the British government that France would be unable to ratify. Popular opposition, it was thought, would diminish with time, and the protocol was accordingly kept open, in the hope that France might still become a party to the treaty. But this expectation was not fulfilled, and on November 9, 1842, the definite withdrawal of France was officially communicated to Lord Aberdeen. The affair caused no little resentment and disappointment in England. Three years later, however, M. Guizot was enabled to re-open the question. By that time the relations of the two countries were upon a more friendly footing, and the Duc de Broglie and Dr. Lushington, the commissioners of their respective governments, succeeded, in consequence, in arriving at an agreement. The new treaty, signed on May 29, 1845, fulfilled all the essential conditions of previous conventions, but provided that, in future, the right of search in African waters should be exercised by a joint Franco-British squadron.[716]

Spanish affairs, however, were destined to be the question which was to occupy the chief attention of the two governments. It has been related how, in the autumn of 1840, Christina had been forced to quit Spain, and how, in the spring of the following year, the Cortes had elected Espartero sole Regent of the kingdom. This solution of the difficulty was by no means acquiesced in as satisfactory by all parties. The elevation of the popular general to the head of the government was necessarily regarded as a victory for the Progressistas and, consequently, as a triumph for English diplomacy. Indeed, since the abdication of the Queen-Mother, the Moderados, as a parliamentary party, had almost ceased to exist. But their leaders still continued to correspond with Christina, whose house in the Rue de Courcelles in Paris soon became the centre of a vast conspiracy against the new Regent.

Whilst it was thus a matter of common notoriety that the Moderado chiefs, together with General Narvaez and other military rivals of Espartero, were plotting in Paris[717] to overthrow the new order of affairs in Spain, the question of the young Queen’s marriage suddenly sprang into prominence. Isabella was not yet twelve years of age, but already the selection of her husband was the subject of grave deliberations in Paris and in London. Christina had always considered it to be vitally important that her daughter should marry a member of one of the great reigning families. As far back as the year 1838, at a most critical period of the civil war, when it was evident that no assistance was to be expected from Louis Philippe, she had suggested to the British minister that Isabella might be affianced to an English prince. If the difficulties arising from the difference of religion should prove insurmountable, she would be satisfied with the betrothal of her daughter to a member of the House of Coburg, “on account of the excellent education which the princes of that family had received, and on account of their near connection with Her Britannic Majesty.”[718] Villiers was without instructions upon the point, but he took upon himself to declare unhesitatingly that the English match could never be effected. Christina, thereupon, announced her intention of marrying her daughter to a son of the Archduke Charles of Austria. It was a combination which, “she was now convinced, afforded the best means of pacifying the country.” The negotiations at Vienna, she informed him, would be entrusted to M. de Cea Bermúdez and their success would largely depend upon the amount of support given them by the British government.[719]

Palmerston, upon receiving Villiers’ despatch, immediately conveyed to him “Her Majesty’s gracious approbation of the course which he had pursued.”[720] At the same time, he informed him that the British government could not possibly take part in M. de Cea’s negotiations at Vienna, “without in the first instance communicating thereupon with the government of France and, as the King of the French would be extremely averse to such a marriage, it was not probable that such a communication would contribute much to the accomplishment of the object.” Nor was there any likelihood, he predicted, that the Austrian Cabinet would entertain the offer. This view of the case was soon borne out by the event. Metternich at once disclaimed any intention of listening to Christina’s proposals, whilst M. Molé, who, notwithstanding the secrecy which had been observed, was aware of the reasons of M. de Cea’s presence at Vienna, declared to Lord Granville that “the armed intervention of France would, undoubtedly, be the consequence of any attempt to place an Austrian prince upon the throne of Spain.”[721]