Memoirs of the Duchesse de Dino (Afterwards Duchesse de Talleyrand et de Sagan), 1831-1835

Meanwhile Lord Grey occupies himself with little dinners at Greenwich, where he consoles himself for his fall and the treachery of his friends, Madame de Lieven for her gilded exile, and M. de Talleyrand for the conflict of unsatisfied ambition and a natural weariness. The other day Lord Grey said very happily in his farewell speech in Parliament, that when one was seventy years old as he was, one might manage affairs very well in ordinary times, but that in a period so critical as the present it needed the activity and energy which belong only to youth.

This is a truth which I have had the opportunity of verifying in my own circle, and I have felt that in public life it is above all things necessary to choose a good moment for retreat, not to lose the proper moment, and so to quit politics gracefully, thus carrying with you the applause of the spectators and avoiding their hisses.

London, July 14, 1834.– This morning people were writing from Windsor to London to find out what was going on. The King's silence had been complete; and in his long walks with his sister, the Princess Augusta, or his daughter, Lady Sophia Sidney, all conversation was carefully avoided, and nothing was talked of but the weather.

The Queen's journey has met with some difficulties; and Lord Adolphus Fitzclarence, who it appears is not a very skilful sailor, had some difficulty in finding the way, and besides, the royal yacht drew too much water. Fortunately, the Duke and Duchess of Saxe-Weimar, and the Prince and Princess of the Netherlands had come in a Dutch steamer to meet her Majesty, who was able to go on board the latter vessel with her maid, and proceed to The Hague direct; the suite reached Rotterdam with some difficulty.

It seems to have been very fortunate that the Queen was able to avoid Rotterdam herself, for they are so much annoyed that they had prepared an ugly reception for her. It had been arranged here that she was to meet neither the King nor the Queen of the Netherlands, and this condition had been strongly insisted on by the King of England. A "chance meeting," however, which might take place at the palace of Loo, had been talked of.

Sir Herbert Taylor has of late been the centre of interest for a good many people, and has been discussed in many conversations. In this way I learned that when he was proposed as private secretary to George III., who had become blind, it was also proposed that he should be made a Privy Councillor. The mere idea roused the King to fury, and, in the presence of all his Ministers, he said to Mr. Taylor: "Remember, sir, that you are to be my pen and my eye, but nothing else; that if you should presume but once to remember what you hear, read, or write, to have an opinion of your own or to give any advice, we should part for ever." And, as a matter of fact, under George III. and later under George IV., Mr. Taylor was never more than a kind of lay figure without eyes to see or ears to hear, or a memory to remember. They say that things are changed now, though he still keeps up the appearance of the greatest reserve and the most profound discretion. I heard on the same occasion that, until he grew blind, George III. never used a secretary, even for making envelopes or sealing his letters. His correspondence was extensive as well as secret; he always knew what was going on in society and all the political intrigues; and when displeased with his Ministers or distrusting their measures he would secretly take the advice of the Opposition. He was never taken by surprise, followed public opinion, and combined considerable learning with a great dignity of carriage.

Since the day before yesterday a rumour has been afloat that Don Carlos has already quitted London and has already landed in France, everybody supposing that he was lying ill at Gloucester Lodge. This though generally believed is not yet proved. What makes me doubt it is that M. de Miraflorès claims that it is true, and boasts that he has led Don Carlos into this proceeding by means of an agent in his pay who, he says, persuaded the unfortunate Prince to take this step in order to betray him to the first Spanish patrol on the frontier, from whom he would receive short shrift. This singular and horrible boast would have to be taken seriously if uttered by any other person. But M. de Miraflorès is as idiotic in politics as in love, and it is quite likely that the whole story is false, or at any rate, that the agent who is said to have inveigled the Prince has only duped the diplomat.

Yesterday evening, politeness, interest, curiosity, and affection, in a word, every possible motive, good and bad, brought an unusually large number of people to Lady Grey's Sunday reception, which is believed to be her last. It was being said there in veiled language, but in a manner which admitted of no doubt, that Lord Melbourne had come back from Windsor, Prime Minster, and charged with the construction of a new Ministry out of the old Cabinet, to which Lord Grey alone will not return. If this is so, the former will commence in the sinister character of a traitor, and the latter will end with the melancholy countenance of a dupe. The King will have been weak enough to prefer patching up matters to being energetic for a day or two, which might doubtless have been difficult, but would have been at least dignified, and certainly salutory for the country. The Tories will never forgive him for having drawn back, and posterity will condemn him for his feebleness.

Last night it seemed as if everything in the greatness of England was dwindled, shrunken, and soiled. The Diplomatic Corps separated into groups, the expression of which was remarkable. The new Spain, the new Portugal, Belgium still in outline, everything which depends on the disorder and weakness of the Great Powers, looked at Lord Palmerston with great anxiety, which as the certainty grew that he would stay in office, changed into an expression of affection and triumph. Scorn and hatred contracted every fibre of the Princesse de Lieven. The French Ambassador, neither a reactionary like the North, nor a propagandist like the English, seemed full of care rather than annoyance, more sorry than surprised, and had the air of a man who, seeing the part of honest man played out, feels that his own is finished, and that the time has come for retiring with honour. The English themselves seemed humiliated, and under no illusions about the appearance of moderation which cloaks the feebleness of the present policy. In fact, the patch-up of the Ministry will lead more slowly perhaps, but by a process of disintegration equally sure, to the ruin which would have been the result had Lord Durham and Mr. O'Connell reached office at a single stride.

The more one examines Lord Brougham's conduct, the more one is struck with the shamelessness of his character. The day before yesterday the venerable Lord Harewood asked him where we were, and whether the Ministry would be reconstructed, and the Chancellor replied, "Where are we? Where do you suppose we can be when at a critical moment like this we have to deal with people who take it into their heads to talk of their honour? What have we to do with honour at such a time?"

If he is not troubled by considerations of his honour, he troubles himself equally little about his dignity. Yesterday when every one was so much agitated, in spite of the established custom that the Chancellor of England shall attend Divine Service at the Temple Church, he thought fit to accompany Madame Peter to Mass, and to sit beside this lady all the time, courting her not less assiduously than his colleague, Lord Palmerston.

This morning, it is said, they will throw a sop to Lord Durham, and will make him Lord-Lieutenant of Ireland in order to get rid of him. At the same time, the revived Ministry will abandon the Coercion Bill. If this be done, they will have crowned Mr. O'Connell King of Ireland on the anniversary of the taking of the Bastille. July 14 is certainly the great day in the modern revolutionary annals.

I have just met a Conservative Peer, a clever and honourable man who moved me greatly. With tears in his eyes he lamented the degradation of his country, the ruin of this great and venerable fabric. He foresaw the terrible struggle which may immediately arise between the two Houses; the Radical spirit which, whether they like it or not, must control the present Ministry, and those which will rapidly succeed it. The present Cabinet in everybody's opinion is still-born, and people are surprised that so good and intelligent a man as Lord Melbourne should lend himself to such a farce. His sister tried to explain it by saying that one must sacrifice one's self for one's country, but Madame de Lieven answered, "The country cannot be saved by men who dishonour themselves."

Lord Melbourne's friends who know him well say that his indolence will very soon get the upper hand, and that with a vigorous "damn!" he will cast off everything. It is, indeed, strange to see the most nonchalant man in England called to the conduct of affairs at such a critical moment for the country.

London, July 15, 1834.– Lord Grey called and stayed a long time. We spoke of the recent crisis as if it were already ancient history, and with the same detachment and sincerity as of old. He argued feebly, and as it were to ease his conscience, against my melancholy forebodings, defended his successors collectively and abandoned them in detail; or at least he agreed that their position was difficult, and that they cut a sinister figure on their re-entry into power. He was silent when I told him that the public thought Mr. Littleton was the fool, Lord Althorp the weakling, the Chancellor the villain of the piece. He shrugged his shoulders when I quoted to him a curious remark made by his brother-in-law, Mr. Ellice, in Lady Grey's drawing-room the evening before, which was as follows. Replying to the regret expressed by some one at Lord Grey's retirement, "No doubt," he said, "it is a pity from many points of view, but it was bound to come. He was quite sick of the business, and, at any rate, this will have the advantage of giving us more scope, making our progress freer and getting us out of the policy of compromise, which is no longer possible."

Lord Grey said and repeated several times that he regretted neither power nor office, and that for several months past he had felt enfeebled, without interest in anything, and unable to do any business except with repugnance and lassitude. He confessed that what had made him feel most bitter was the conduct of some of his own people, especially Lord Durham, whose violence, hauteur, ambition and intrigues had afflicted him the more as his daughter had been the first to suffer. He could not doubt that Lady Durham's last miscarriage was due to her husband's brutality. He told me that in spite of the terror inspired by his character, it was proposed to give him, in the new Cabinet, the place left vacant by Lord Melbourne's transfer to the Treasury. Lord Durham's ambition and malevolent activity make him so inconvenient to any Ministry of which he is not a member, that it seems almost better to admit him, and to try in this way to neutralise his ill-will. Lord Grey was doubtful, however, whether they could make up their minds to do so, he was so much detested by every one.

Lord Grey was sure that he had persuaded Lord Althorp to resume his place in the Cabinet25 in spite of the many embarrassments of his position. He says that without Lord Althorp they could never control the House of Commons. He flattered himself also that he has persuaded Lord Lansdowne to stay, but he was not sure of this. In fact, being persuaded that the accession to power of either the Tories or the Radicals would mean revolution, he did all he could with all the energy in his power to patch up the miserable Cabinet which has just betrayed him. He cannot or will not understand that it is Radicalism very thinly veiled just as much as if O'Connell or Cobbett were already in office.

I sat next the Chancellor at the Duchess-Countess of Sutherland's dinner. He was very genial, and invited me to drink the toast of the day, the 14th of July. "At dessert," I replied, well knowing that his restless mind would forget all about it. As a matter of fact, the matter quite slipped his memory. I could not, in any case, have drunk the toast, for this date, which has already such unhappy associations, was certainly not purified yesterday.

The Chancellor asked me if I had seen Lord Grey and if I was not struck with his simplicity, which he said was such that he could conceal, dissemble and contain nothing. "He is a child in candour and thoughtlessness, and he yields to the impressions of every moment." "His is a very noble nature," I replied. "Yes, yes, no doubt," said he, "it is the nature of a very nice child, which reminds me that Mr. Hare, a friend of Mr. Fox as well as of Fitzpatrick and Grey, used always to call him 'Baby Grey.'"

There is no doubt that Don Carlos is gone. Some say he embarked on the Thames when he was supposed to be at the Opera, and that he will land in Spain at one of the points where he is supposed to have a following. Others, and among them M. de Miraflorès, say that he has gone viâ France; that M. Calomarde managed the whole thing from Paris, instigated by him (Miraflorès) in order to entrap Don Carlos. Anyhow, he is gone, and whatever be the result of his enterprise it cannot be without effect.

London, July 16, 1834.– Lord Melbourne's successor at the Home Office is known; it is Lord Duncannon, who has been transferred from the Woods and Forests, which he leaves to Sir John Cam-Hobhouse. The latter is celebrated for his friendship with Lord Byron, his Eastern travels, and his very liberal opinions, in which, however, he is less extreme than Lord Duncannon, who is said to be quite violent. This shows that the Cabinet has taken on a more decidedly revolutionary character.

Yesterday it was certain that Don Carlos had left London; to-day his arrival in Spain is equally beyond doubt. The Tories say he has got to Navarre after having crossed all France; and this, too, is the version of M. de Miraflorès, who now perhaps regrets having boasted of having deceived the Prince and surrounded him with spies who were to deliver him up to the first Spanish outpost, while as a matter of fact he has arrived safe and sound among his own people, by whom, it is said, he has been enthusiastically received.

The English Ministry yesterday admitted knowing of Don Carlos's arrival in Spain, which is believed to have taken place on the 9th, but they say that he landed at a port in Biscaya attended only by a single Frenchman, and that his partisans eagerly welcomed him. It is asserted that he only went to Spain because the Northern provinces invited him, and threatened that they would declare their independence and constitute themselves a Republic if their natural leader did not come to them. It is clear that there must have been great hopes on the one hand and much to lose on the other before a man so timid and so incapable as Don Carlos could have been persuaded to run such a risk. Moreover, his conversation with the Duke of Wellington, which I set down above, shows that his mind has for several weeks been occupied with this plan of going to Spain.

London, July 17, 1834.– The friends of the new Ministry are wearing themselves out with assertions that the policy of the French alliance will not be altered in any way. I believe this is true; but, in the interests of both countries, I should have preferred that the alliance had been founded on social order and had not depended for its continuance on revolutionary sympathies, which give just cause for anxiety to the rest of Europe, and may bring about conflicts in which it would be difficult to predict who will be the victor.

We are more and more decided to return to France immediately after Parliament rises, and perhaps even sooner.

Our more distant future is not yet to be foreseen, but Lord Grey's example is another proof that the great figures of history should themselves choose the circumstances of their retirement, and should not wait till it is imposed upon them by the mistakes or the perfidy of others.

Yesterday we received the two first volumes of a book, entitled M. de Talleyrand. I have hardly looked at it, but M. de Talleyrand has read it. He says that nothing could be more stupid, false, tedious, and ill-imagined, and that he would not pay five shillings to have it suppressed. I admit that I am less philosophic, and that on occasions of this sort – which in a libellous age like ours are so numerous – I always remember a saying of La Bruyère's, which seems to me remarkably true. "Excessive calumny," he says, "like excessive praise, always leaves a trace behind." As a matter of fact, the world is divided into the foolish and the malevolent, and so there are always people who will believe what is improbable, especially about an opponent.

London, July 18, 1834.– Fatuity in men is a thing which spreads from one point to all the rest. M. de Miraflorès, who is very pushing with women and rather ridiculous, is not less presumptuous in politics. He launches out madly and credits himself with successes which are only due to the personal passions of the people, and which will perhaps hardly be justified by the final result. Thus he proclaims himself the inventor of the Quadruple Alliance, the first idea of which was suggested to him by Lord Palmerston. Now that Don Carlos's reappearance on Spanish territory renews the old difficulties, the little Marquis, proprio motu, without waiting for orders from his Government, sends a perfect olla podrida of a note – a masterpiece of absurdity – appealing to France and England to extend the scope of the treaty whose object was believed to be accomplished.

The present circumstances are, however, very different. Three months ago the two Pretenders, Miguel and Carlos, were both penned up in a little corner of Portugal, and were thus more particularly the business of England. Now Don Carlos is in the north of Spain, near the French frontier. Will England carry her revolutionary tendencies so far as to allow a French army to enter the Peninsula? Would not that be the signal for Lord Palmerston's resignation? On the other hand, can France, after declaring against Don Carlos, allow him again to seize a power which he would use against her? It is not that the Government of the Queen-Regent, which becomes more and more decrepit, is likely to be a very good neighbour. King Louis Philippe finds himself in the dilemma of being faced on the other side of the Pyrenees either with the Republican or the Legitimist principle. The mezzo termine can only be maintained by armed force – in fact, by conquest!

This reminds me of a very true remark made by M. de Talleyrand which has often come back to my mind during the last four years. It was said in the midst of the intoxication of the great days of 1830. M. de Talleyrand found one of his friends full of hopes and illusions, patriotic phrases and emotion, over the scene at the Hôtel de Ville, the Lafayette accolades, and the popularity of Louis Philippe. "Monsieur," said he, "what is wanting in all this is a trifle of conquest."

They say that in Spain Martinez de la Rosa is passé, and can no longer maintain himself in power; he will be replaced by Toreno, and will become President of the House of Peers. It is also said that the Queen-Regent will create him Marquis de l'Alliance.

London, July 19, 1834.– Everything that is happening here reminds one of the first scenes of the French Revolution. The analogy is striking, the copy a trifle too servile. The aristocracy, the minority of the nobility, the tiers état, have each their counterparts in the Tories, the Whigs, and the Radicals. The Whigs are blinded by jealousy and personal ambition, and will not see that they have any other enemies than the Tories; they see no danger except on that side, and in order to keep their rivals out of office they are precipitating themselves and all their class into the abyss which has been dug for them by the Radicals.

In talking over all this yesterday M. de Talleyrand quoted a remark made to him by the Abbé Sieyès during the sittings of the Constituent assembly. "Yes, we get on very well now that we are discussing only Liberty; it is when we get on to Equality that we shall quarrel."

At the very lively sitting of the Lords of the day before yesterday Ministers very clearly marked out the line they mean to follow, and the very men who in Lord Grey's time, less than a fortnight ago, held the repressive clauses of the Coercion Bill to be indispensable, announced their abandonment amid the jeers and scoffs of the House. This was as much as to say that the Cabinet in order to survive was putting itself at the disposal of the Radical majority in the House of Commons, was flouting the opposition of the Lords and doing its best to make it of no account. As one might expect, the irritation which results from this is sharply expressed in the Upper House. All the consolation Ministers have is the approbation which O'Connell is good enough to bestow upon them.

London, July 20, 1834.– I much prefer Lord Grey's second speech delivered the day before yesterday in the House of Lords to make clear his position which had been misrepresented by both parties, to the first speech in which he announced his resignation. The latter I thought was too long and too tearful, and entered too minutely into his family affairs. The speech of the day before yesterday was more laconic, and more closely argued; its dignity was remarkable and, while avoiding any bitterness or personality, the speaker exposed the chicanery which had forced him to retire. He remains well disposed to the guiltiest parties and full of kindness to his successors as individuals, but he will have nothing to do with their policy. His retirement in accordance with his own instincts is greeted with the applause of all sensible people, the humiliation of those whom he has quitted, and the lively displeasure of all those who are the real enemies of social order.

A fortnight ago I confess Lord Grey seemed to me nothing more than an old man worn out, shaken to pieces, and on the point of being discredited. Since his resignation his last political acts have been illumined with a brilliant gleam. His fine talent for oratory which he exercised so long in opposition has recovered all its energy now that he is out of office again, and it may be truly said that Lord Grey who has had one fall after another has again reached the foremost place now that he has got free of the shameful ambuscades by which he has been overpowered. The Cabinet is now much afraid of him and would fall low indeed if Lord Grey was not compassionate enough to throw over it the mantle of his protection. His colleagues, who lately spoke of him with more pity than respect, tremble at his words to-day. Ah! how wise it is not to survive one's self in politics, and how necessary it is to choose time fitting for retreat.

A resignation which is both less important and less honourable is that of Marshal Soult.26 The reasons for his disappearance which is accepted by the King and little regretted by the Cabinet, are said to be internal quarrels about the question whether Algeria shall have a military or a civil governor – about a speech from the Throne, more or less detailed, which is to be delivered on July 31 next, but above all the terror of the Army estimates which the Marshal is said to be afraid to face next session. They say that they will offer his place to Marshal Gérard.

Most fortunately for the Queen Regent of Spain some accident seems to have happened which will enable her to appear at the opening of the Cortès. She has much need of a piece of good luck to re-establish her position which she has so curiously compromised by her frivolity and inconsequence.

Lord Howick, eldest son of Lord Grey, who has no great reputation for either physical or intellectual merit, has just resigned his position as Under Secretary of State at the Home Office, thus following his father's example and fortunes. This is the only instance of fidelity which his father is likely to encounter.

Yesterday I saw Lady Cowper at her own house; she seemed to me depressed and preoccupied. With her intelligence it is difficult for her not to be afflicted by conduct in her relatives and friends which is so wanting in credit. She pointed out to me not without reason the change which has come over London life and society, the care people take to avoid each other, the hostile way in which they speak of each other, the unrest of every one, their distrust of the present, their gloomy forebodings for the future, the general disorganisation, the dispersion of the diplomatic corps, and the absence of all government and all authority. This was striking language from the sister of the Premier and the intimate friend of the Foreign Secretary.