Note 16, p. [194].—Ten years after Pitt’s death the Congress of Vienna had united the Belgian provinces, formerly under the rule of Austria, with Holland, in order that this new-made kingdom of the Netherlands might be a “buffer-state” against the encroachment of France on the north. To Belgium, prevailingly Catholic, and to Holland, as prevailingly Protestant, the alliance was alike distinctly distasteful. In particular, the Catholic bishops of the Belgians had objected at the outset to religious toleration under a Protestant king. In language and customs much of Belgium was essentially French: the Flemish element was in those days much subordinated. In Holland the Protestant House of Orange, and, in Belgium, the Church, were the figureheads that symbolized the real political incongruity between the Netherlands, North and South. The events of July, 1830, at Paris were followed by a sympathetic outbreak at Brussels, August 25th, which commenced a real insurrection that ended in the dissolution of the short-lived Kingdom. In the confusion of European politics that arose from this disturbance, England and France by close combination brought a kind of order out of chaos, averted a European war, and by a Conference at London in January, 1831, defined the frontiers of the now disjunct states of Belgium and Holland. But there had to be a King of Belgium. In his selection much difficulty arose. The Duc de Nemours, second son of Louis Philippe, was elected by the Gallicizing Belgians. This election was vetoed by the London Conference. The matter was finally settled by the choice of Prince Leopold of Saxe-Coburg, with the provision that he should make a daughter of Louis Philippe his Queen. Over the disposition of the Grand Duchy of Luxemburg there was further trouble, and even the threat of war. Nominally, it belonged to Holland; sentimentally, it was Belgian—and French. While the Conference was debating the question the King of Holland led an army of fifty thousand men into Belgium. France responded to Leopold’s appeal with another army. Then both armies were recalled. Finally the Conference and Leopold agreed that the duchy should be divided between the countries. But the King of Holland still held out in the citadel of Antwerp, apparently caring little for either Prince or Conference. In doing so, he soon found himself arrayed against a French army corps on land, and in the river Scheldt a British fleet. Even then a bombardment of the citadel was necessary to dislodge him. This was in 1832. It was not until 1839 that the ensuing war of words resulted in the signing of a formal treaty of peace between Holland and Belgium.

Note 17, p. [194].—In the passage omitted Lord Palmerston defends the policy of England towards Portugal. The transactions here commented on are to be regarded as the second act of co-operation which sprung from the entente cordiale established between England and France at the time of the Belgian arrangement above referred to. A summary of the Portuguese matters follows. In 1826, by the influence of Canning, the dispute about the succession to the Crown of Portugal came to a temporary settlement by the acceptance by Don Miguel of the Constitution. This Don Miguel, a younger son of John, the former King, had been opposed to the liberal tendencies of the times. At the death of his father, Pedro, the Crown Prince, was already installed as Emperor of Brazil. So it was arranged that Miguel should marry, when she came of age, his niece, Maria, then with her father in Brazil; and meanwhile should act as Regent. He soon threw off the mask. In June, 1828, he dissolved the Cortes, summoned instead the medieval “Estates,” and deliberately proclaimed himself King. Then came a brutal campaign of proscription against the Constitutional party. Such as escaped these terrors took refuge in England, and in the Azores, which still held out for the Constitutionalists. But in England, now under the Duke of Wellington’s dominance, it was no longer on the cards to encourage the growth of liberalism on the continent. Indeed, an attitude of absolute neutrality was maintained, and the former intervention of Canning was deplored. So matters wagged until the events of 1830 brought a change over the Anglo-Portuguese relations. Don Miguel, in the exercise of his despotic powers, grew insolent enough to worry even English and French subjects at Lisbon. Their governments enforced satisfaction by naval squadrons despatched to the Tagus. For England, Lord Palmerston, as Foreign Secretary of Earl Grey’s Ministry, obtained an indemnity and a public apology. For France, her admiral went so far as to appropriate the best vessels of Miguel’s navy. Shortly after, Pedro crossed from Brazil to contest the rights of his daughter to the throne. The attitude of England had so completely swerved that, on Pedro’s arrival in London (July, 1831), he was permitted to raise troops and to employ in his service various officers of the English navy. From the rendezvous of his forces at Terceira, in the Azores, he proceeded against Oporto, which at once yielded to him. On his part, Don Miguel marched against that city. After the destruction of Don Miguel’s navy by his fleet under the English Captain Napier, Pedro made decisive gains, and entered Lisbon, July 28, 1833. Don Miguel, however, was not yet beaten, for the continental governments favorable to absolutism were in the way of sending him assistance both in troops and money. At this moment the whole business was at first sight complicated, but in reality, so far as Portugal was concerned, brought to a speedy issue by the Carlist troubles of the neighboring kingdom of Spain. Don Carlos, the brother of King Ferdinand, based his claim to the throne on the theory that the Salic Law, recently repealed in favor of Isabella, child of the King’s old age, by the so-called Pragmatic Sanction, was illegally repealed, the Spanish Succession since 1713 having been faithful to that ordinance. Temporarily Don Carlos had gone into Portugal. Most naturally he had attached himself to Miguel, as a personage whose position was so comparable to his own. Meanwhile in Spain the Queen Regent, Maria Cristina, had allied herself with the Liberals; had called into office a Liberal Minister, Martinez de la Rosa; and had caused a constitution to be granted to the country (April 10, 1834). Her Government also opened negotiations not only with Portugal, but with England and France, as the next parties interested, with the view of an alliance which should rid, once and for all, the Peninsula of insurrections and leaders of insurrections. Thus on April 22, 1834, the above Powers signed, at London, a Quadruple Treaty, according to which Spain was to send an army into Portugal against Don Miguel; Portugal, if she could, to drive Don Carlos from her territory; England to aid with a fleet; and France to co-operate, if further co-operation were necessary, by any means agreeable to all concerned. And, with regard to Portugal, this programme was executed with precision. No later than May 22, 1834, Don Miguel threw up the game, accepted, instead of the Crown, a large pension, and promised to relieve the Peninsula forever of his presence. Not so with Don Carlos. He refused the conditions. At the time, however, he could do nothing but take a proffered passage to London, whither he conveyed his plottings and still undiscouraged dreams of the Spanish Crown. Of which, more hereafter. As for Portugal, there was another outbreak in 1847, concerning which Lord Palmerston found it necessary this time neither to support the Liberal faction nor to acquiesce in the Ministry of the Opposition leader, Señor Cabral, but to keep a balance between both. This apparent inconsistency the speaker explains by the statement that it was only by such conduct that England could preserve at all a Portuguese Liberal party.

Note 18, p. [197].—The question of the Spanish Succession and the quelling of the Carlist revolt here entered on demands further elucidation. It will be remembered that Don Carlos, after the Quadruple Treaty of 1834, had gone to England. Arrived there, he was really in an anomalous position. It has been said that he carried his dreams with him into exile. Now he had made no promises further to observe the stipulations of the treaty, and—rather curiously—he was not even held by the English authorities as a prisoner of war. What, then, was more natural than that after a short time he should quit England, run through France in disguise, and bob up at the Carlist headquarters in the Basque Province of Navarre? It was at once evident to the world that, so far as the suppression of the Spanish Pretender went, the Quadruple Treaty was nil. For various reasons, the Basque provinces had been from the outset the hotbed of Carlism; and from this centre a vigorous and, for a time, successful war was waged for Don Carlos. We say deliberately, “waged for” him: because, like another famous Pretender, Don Carlos was a figure singularly incapacitated for leadership or hero-worship. His political abilities were meagre; and of his personal courage there was more than a doubt. And yet, with the perverse good luck that also waited upon another Pretender, he was fortunate in his supporters. Chief among these was Zumalacarregui, a general of marked strategic talent, who made a pretty fight for his worthless master. Except for the advantages of a mountainous country for base and a devoted population about him, the Carlist leader had little to work with; but he made the throne of Cristina tremble. The struggle endured—a civil war that became notable for its peculiarly Spanish atrocities—until the Government was forced to appeal to France for aid. It should be stated that after the flight of Carlos from England an article had been added to the Quadruple Treaty to the effect that France should prevent troops and contraband of war from crossing the Pyrenees, and that England should cut off aid to the Carlists by sea. This was not enough to stifle the uprising. The appeal to France met with a certain hesitation on the part of that Government. Louis Philippe now feared to irritate those Powers who were more or less openly sympathetic with Carlism. England was sounded to see if she would stand for a joint responsibility with France in the matter of intervention. Lord Palmerston replied negatively. The hesitation of France then ceased. The answer was returned to Spain that no military assistance could be given. By this time the Queen Regent had become unpopular; and moderate men, as a relief from practical anarchy, were beginning to turn toward Don Carlos. His prospects looked decidedly bright. But the inspired fatuity that was seemingly the birthright of the Pretender did not allow him to profit by his golden moment. He would hear of nothing short of absolutism; instead of listening to compromise, he made a feint of marching on Madrid; and, after being soundly beaten by the Government General, Espartero, escaped into Portugal, Sept. 14, 1839, having racked Spain with a civil war of six years’ duration, with no gain even to himself. So the revolt collapsed. Cristina had been ousted from the Regency by the popular hero Espartero. Next Espartero was driven into exile by his own party. Cristina then came back to Madrid, where her daughter Isabella, made of age by a legal fiction, although only a girl of fourteen, was crowned (November, 1843) Queen of Spain, with a Ministry of the Moderado party, under General Narvaez.

Note 19, p. [208].—“While the Carlist War was still continuing, Lord Palmerston had convinced himself that Louis Philippe intended to marry the young Queen Isabella, if possible, to one of his sons. Some years later this project was officially mentioned by Guizot to the English statesman, who at once caused it to be understood that England would not permit the union.... Louis Philippe now suggested that his youngest son, the Duke of Montpensier, should wed the Infanta Fernanda, sister of the Queen of Spain. On the express understanding that this marriage should not take place until the Queen should herself have been married and have had children, the English Cabinet assented to the proposal. That the marriages should not be simultaneous was treated by both governments as the very heart and substance of the arrangement, inasmuch as the failure of children by the Queen’s marriage would make her sister, or her sister’s heir, inheritor of the throne. This was repeatedly acknowledged by Louis Philippe and his Minister, Guizot, in the course of communications which extended over some years. Nevertheless, in 1846, the French Ambassador at Madrid, in conjunction with the Queen’s mother, Maria Cristina, succeeded in carrying out a plan by which the conditions laid down at London, and accepted at Paris, were utterly frustrated. Of the Queen’s Spanish cousins, there was one, Don Francisco, who was known to be physically unfit for marriage. To this person it was determined by Maria Cristina and the French Ambassador that the young Isabella should be united, her sister being simultaneously married to the Duke of Montpensier.”—Fyffe, “Modern Europe,” vol. ii., pp. 504, 505, New York, 1877.

When the news of this astounding piece of bad faith was communicated to Louis Philippe, at the first blush he was inclined to repudiate it; but Guizot persuaded him to delay a while. And now Lord Palmerston had returned to office and suggested a Prince of Saxe-Coburg as a consort for the Spanish Queen—in which suggestion Guizot immediately detected a chance to indict England for disloyalty to the House of Bourbon. It may be said that this objection was puerile. But what happened was that on October 10, 1846, the poor Queen and her sister were simultaneously married at Madrid, as per programme of Maria Cristina and the French Ambassador.

Of this performance Fyffe says (p. 506): “Few intrigues have been more disgraceful than that of the Spanish marriages; none more futile. The course of history mocked its ulterior purposes; its immediate results were wholly to the injury of the House of Orleans. The cordial understanding between France and Great Britain, which had been revived after the differences of 1840, was now finally shattered. Louis Philippe stood convicted before his people of sacrificing a valuable alliance to dynastic ends; his Minister, the austere and sanctimonious Guizot, had to defend himself against charges which would have covered with shame the most hardened man of the world.”

All of which goes to affirm the familiar lesson taught by history that, in the long run, intrigue does not pay. As to the charge met in this speech that Great Britain led to the downfall of Louis Philippe, Lord Palmerston’s answer is easily adequate.

Note 20, p. [211].—Lord Palmerston here deals, categorically and at some length, with England’s actions with respect to Switzerland. There had arisen in that country a serious dispute about the expulsion of the Jesuits. The minority, composing the seven Catholic cantons, in order to oppose this expulsion had organized itself into a Sonderbund, or Separate League, an association that the majority contended was in itself contrary to the Acts of Confederation. The friction was so intense between the factions that there seemed no exit but civil war. At this juncture Lord Palmerston wrote to the British Chargé d’Affaires in Switzerland a despatch, the substance of which he was to communicate to the Swiss authorities. In this despatch Lord Palmerston entreats the majority to use moderation against the Catholic cantons, pointing out that a forcible suppression of the Sonderbund will mean civil war, with the strong probability of foreign interference. And that, he says, would end in “essentially impairing the political independence of the country.” The Swiss Minister replied that civil war was deemed inevitable. Then came a proposal from Paris that the five Powers—England, France, Russia, Austria, and Prussia—should issue a joint declaration to put an end to civil war in Switzerland. The speaker shows, point by point, why England could not assent to this proposal. The main reason was that if the Swiss Government refused the conditions, it was to be compelled by force of arms. Coercion England would not agree to. Instead, she proposed that “the Jesuits should be withdrawn, either by an act of the Sonderbund cantons themselves or by a consent to be obtained from the Pope; that the Diet should then declare formally that it had no aggressive intention against the Sonderbund; and the Sonderbund, upon receiving this assurance, should dissolve their Separate League, which was at variance with the Federal Compact; that both parties should then disarm, and that peace should thus be permanently restored.”

This fair proposal came to naught, largely through the delays necessary for coming to an understanding with France, and the reluctance of Switzerland to take advice, however good. She was left to settle her own troubles.

Note 21, p. [213].—Here is omitted a minute elucidation of the British Government’s share in the tumultuous and confused Italian politics of Lord Palmerston’s time. The speaker mentions and defends the following cases of British influence: 1. After vainly trying to dissuade the King of Sardinia from taking up arms against Austria in the troubles of 1846–48, England did not feel obliged forcibly to prevent such action. She considered that, ethically wrong, his action was nevertheless practically forced upon him by the appeal of Lombardy and the overpowering sentiment of his own subjects. She also refused to propose to the people of Lombardy (acting for Austria) a compromise which she felt was less than Lombardy would accept. 2. The Earl of Minto was really summoned to Rome by the Pope. Although the English law did not then permit the sending of a regular Minister to the Papal Court, the Pope wished to have by him an adviser and quasi moral representative of England. In Palmerston’s words, he wished that this person “should be entirely in the confidence of Her Majesty’s Government; that he should be conversant with the conditions of this country; that he should be a man of rank; and, if possible, a person who could combine with these qualifications diplomatic experience.” Palmerston adds: “If a form of words had been devised which should exactly describe the Earl of Minto, it could not have been done more correctly.” He was accordingly requested by his Government to include Rome in a trip taken ostensibly for recreation. The Earl found plenty to busy himself with in distracted Italy. While he was at Rome, a civil war began between Sicily and the King of Naples; and the informal representative of England was asked by both parties to effect an arrangement of their differences. While the Earl was in Sicily, however, the news of the fall of Louis Philippe arrived, and after that the hotheaded Sicilians would listen to nothing short of independence. 3. The third case of English interference was the announcement made to the King of Sardinia that if the Duke of Genoa were chosen and actually enthroned as King of Sicily, the English Government would acknowledge him. This promise was based on the theory, then generally accepted, that the King of Naples would be unable to recover Sicily. The contrary happened; and the English proposal, actually made by the Sicilians to the Sardinian Government, was rejected by the latter.