The personnel of his embassy was not impressive, he himself admits. In the obituary notice of him a few years later in the Morning Post, he is described as receiving visitors in his salon with a high hat and a huge tricolour rosette on it, while three young sansculottists lounged with revolutionary freedom on the couch. This was an echo of the hostility of 1830. Talleyrand had always been strongly opposed to the obtrusion of French revolutionary feelings at other courts or capitals, and is not likely to have furnished the slightest ground for this gibe over his coffin. He had brought the Duchess de Dino with him, and this relieved the character of his mission. Such productions of the time as “Raikes’ Journal” indicate how prominent and distinguished a place he at once took up in the country. In fact the writer in the Morning Post himself says that in time Palmerston was almost the only man to stand conspicuously aloof from the aged Prince, and speak of him disdainfully as “old Tally.”
The great issue that complicated his work at London was the revolt of Belgium against the Dutch. Talleyrand had looked forward to the not uncongenial task of introducing the new monarchy into the respectable society of the older ones in Europe by prevailing on England to espouse its cause. Knowing well the pacific feeling of Louis-Philippe and his political integrity, he had every reason to hope for success in this without more than an easy and cheerful use of his own accomplishments. Aristocratic feeling even in England was suspicious and reserved. He would disarm it, and place in the hands of the French Foreign Office the strong card of England’s friendship. Unfortunately for his peace, the spirit of the Revolution spread immediately into Belgium, and the Dutch were gradually driven out of the country. It was England especially that had created this joint kingdom of the Netherlands in 1815, and she now looked with concern on what seemed to be an attempt of France to regain the control of Belgium.
The news from France increased the difficulty. There was a strong and loud demand at Paris for the annexation of the rich, and largely French, provinces of Belgium, and this was echoed by a considerable party at Brussels. So powerful was the feeling and so moving the temptation, that the French Cabinet itself inclined to it and the King hesitated. From the end of October until the end of February Talleyrand had to fight the whole of Paris, as well as allay anxiety at London. But he was convinced that a general war would ensue if France directly or indirectly recovered control of Belgium, and he fought bravely for peace against King and ministers and people. Non-intervention was the word that he pleaded unceasingly at London and thundered at Paris. There is a story that when someone at London asked him to define non-intervention he said it was “a metaphysical and political term that meant pretty much the same thing as intervention.” He may have said so for the fun of the phrase, but his correspondence with Paris shows that he was in deepest earnest about it.
His policy at London was perfectly straight, but unfortunately his diplomatic history made many hesitate to accept it as such. It is said that once under the Empire some piece of news relating to Spain had reached the knowledge of the Spanish Minister, and Napoleon grumbled. Talleyrand said he would put the matter right. He went to M. d’Azara, said that he had something important to whisper to him regarding his country, and then told him precisely the piece of news that had leaked out. D’Azara was so far unable to conceive Talleyrand speaking the truth in such a matter that he concluded the whole story was a hoax, and wrote to his Government to disregard the information he had sent them. At London in 1830 and 1831 Talleyrand was pleading in perfect sincerity for non-intervention, but Palmerston (who came to the Foreign Office in November) and others were unable to believe him. The more he assured them of his struggle against his own Government, the more they suspected him. Palmerston dreaded his diplomatic ascendancy, and looked for his secret inspiration in every movement towards war and territorial expansion that was reported from Paris.
There was no unreality about Talleyrand’s statement that he was fighting his own Government. In November they sent Count Flahaut to assist him in London and induce him to favour the scheme of a partition of Belgium between Holland, England, Prussia, and France. Talleyrand told him he would cut off his right hand before signing such a treaty, and sent him back to Paris. Sebastiani (Foreign Minister) then sounded Talleyrand on a scheme for making the King’s son, the Duc de Nemours, King of Belgium, and was told that it was a “mad idea.” Talleyrand, in fact, resorted to the device of writing constantly to the King’s sister, Mme. Adélaide, and told her the Duke “must absolutely refuse” the Belgian crown if it were offered to him. He believed that Belgium would not remain a distinct nation (in which his sagacity failed altogether), and might eventually fall to France, but for the moment it was “a secondary matter.” “We must make France first,” he said. But the Congress at Brussels on February 3rd did invite the Duc de Nemours to the throne, and Paris wavered once more. Talleyrand signed a protocol at London engaging France to refuse the crown for the Duc de Nemours. Sebastiani complained seriously, and Talleyrand had to submit, but added that “if it seemed to him at any time that there would be imminent danger of war if he refused to sign the protocols of the Conference, and the real interests of France were not at stake, he would sign them in accordance with the first instructions given him,” and threatened to leave London if the situation did not improve in Paris. Moreover, when, under the influence of a deputy from Brussels, the King wavered again, and Sebastiani sent word that his reply was postponed, Talleyrand refused to submit his message to Palmerston.
The Conference to which he alludes was sitting on the Belgian question at London. When England proposed an international Conference, Talleyrand was instructed to demand that it be held at Paris, and he did so. His personal opinion was, however, that Paris was in too insecure a condition, and he was not disappointed when London was decided on. He had made up his mind from the first that Prince Leopold of Saxe-Coburg was the fittest candidate for the Belgian throne. To this there was no serious opposition at London, and a change of Ministry at Paris in March brought Casimir Périer to the head of affairs. With this able statesman and friend Talleyrand could make more progress, though he described his advance on Ancona as “a piece of filibustering.” By the middle of July Leopold was accepted in Belgium, and the irritating problem was settled.
From a sketch by Count D’Orsay.
TALLEYRAND
(At London, in 1831).
But one difficulty was removed only to lead to another. Talleyrand had in April (1831) obtained from the Allies of 1815 a secret promise that some of the fortresses raised at that time against France should be demolished. Louis-Philippe wanted to be able to announce this welcome decision in his July address. As Talleyrand was dilatory in obtaining permission, the King made the announcement and declared he would not evacuate Belgium until the forts were destroyed. His ambassador had meantime secured the assent of the Powers, but had also signed a promise to evacuate Belgium in August. The King was much annoyed, but Talleyrand politely requested him and Périer not to make so much noise about the fortresses. To a private correspondent he wrote that he was tired to death of fighting Paris, when his whole attention was needed at London. He could see nothing but amour propre in the agitation at Paris. The struggle continued for some time. Louis-Philippe wanted different forts destroyed from those that Talleyrand had named, and wrote angrily to him. His ambassador sent a polite and sarcastic reply, and the names of the forts remained unchanged when the matter was settled in January. Talleyrand’s weariness expressed itself in the following passage of a letter to Sebastiani, which would probably be submitted to Louis-Philippe: “The King knows that I am a partisan of no dynasty. Since the days of Louis XVI I have served all Governments out of attachment to my country. I have abandoned them the moment they sacrificed the interests of France to personal interests. If the King is going to listen to domestic chatterers, he must not count on me.” It was the voice of the King-maker.