Memoirs To Illustrate The History Of My Time Part 8

Nations that aspire to be free incur a prominent danger,--the danger of deceiving themselves on the question of tyranny. They readily apply that name to any system of government that displeases or alarms them, or refuses to grant all that they desire. Frivolous caprices, which entail their own punishment! Power must have inflicted on a country many violations of right, with repeated acts of injustice and oppression bitter and prolonged, before revolution can be justified by reason, or crowned with triumph in the face of its inherent faults. When such causes are wanting to revolutionary attempts, they either fail miserably or bring with them the reaction which involves their own punishment.

But from 1820 to 1823 the conspirators never dreamed of asking themselves if their enterprises were legitimate; they entertained no doubt on the subject. Very different although simultaneous pa.s.sions, past alarms and prospective temptations, influenced their minds and conduct. The hatreds and apprehensions that attached themselves to the words emigration, feudal system, old form of government, aristocracy, and counter-revolution, belonged to bygone times; but these fears and antipathies were in many hearts as intense and vivid as if they were entertained towards existing and powerful enemies. Against these phantoms, which the folly of the extreme right had conjured up, without the power of giving them substantial vitality, war in any shape was considered allowable, urgent, and patriotic. It was believed that liberty could best be served and saved by rekindling against the Restoration all the slumbering revolutionary fires. The conspirators flattered themselves that they could at the same time prepare a fresh revolution, which should put an end, not only to the restored monarchy, but to monarchy altogether, and by the re-establishment of the Republic lead to the absolute triumph of popular rights and interests. To the greater part of these young enthusiasts, descended from families who had been engaged in the old cause of the first Revolution, dreams of the future united with traditions of the domestic hearth; while maintaining the struggles of their fathers, they indulged their own Utopian chimeras.

Those who conspired from revolutionary hatred or republican hope, were joined by others with more clearly defined but not less impa.s.sioned views. I have elsewhere said, in speaking of Was.h.i.+ngton, "It is the privilege, often corruptive, of great men, to inspire attachment and devotion without the power of reciprocating these feelings." No one ever enjoyed this privilege more than the Emperor Napoleon. He was dying at this very moment upon the rock of St. Helena; he could no longer do anything for his partisans; and he found, amongst the people as well as in the army, hearts and arms ready to do all and risk all for his name,--a generous infatuation for which I am at a loss to decide whether human nature should be praised or pitied.

All these pa.s.sions and combinations would in all probability have remained futile and unnoticed, had they not found exponents and chiefs in the highest political circles and in the bosom of the great bodies of the State. The popular ma.s.ses are never sufficient for themselves; their desires and designs must be represented by visible and important leaders, who march at their head and accept the responsibility of the means and end. The conspirators of from 1820 to 1823 knew this well; and upon the most widely separated points, at Befort as at Saumur, and at each fresh enterprise, they declared that they would not act unless well-known political leaders and Deputies of reputation were a.s.sociated with them. Everybody knows, at the present day, that the co-operation they required was not withheld.

In the Chamber of Deputies, the opposition to the Government of the Right was comprised of three sections united against it, but differing materially in their views and in their means of hostility. I shall only name the princ.i.p.al members of this confederacy, and who have themselves clearly defined their respective positions. M. de La Fayette and M. Manuel acknowledged and directed the conspiracies. Without ignoring them, General Foy, M. Benjamin Constant, and M. Casimir Perrier, disapproved of their proceedings and declined a.s.sociation.

M. Royer-Collard and his friends were absolutely unacquainted with them, and stood entirely aloof.

When my thoughts revert to M. de La Fayette, I am saddened by affectionate regret. I never knew a character more uniformly sincere, generous, and kind, or more ready to risk everything for his pledged faith and cause; his benevolence, although rather indiscriminate in particular cases, was not the less true and expanded towards humanity in general. His courage and devotedness were natural and earnest, serious under an exterior sometimes light, and as genuine as they were spontaneous. Throughout his life he maintained consistency in sentiments and ideas; and he had his days of vigorous resolution, which would have reflected honour on the truest friend of order and resistance to anarchy. In 1791, he opened fire, in the Champ de Mars, on the revolt set up in the name of the people; in 1792, he came in person to demand, on behalf of his army, the suppression of the Jacobins; and he held himself apart and independent under the Empire. But, taking all points into account, he failed in political judgment, in discernment, in a just estimate of circ.u.mstances and men; and he had a yielding towards his natural bent, a want of foresight as to the probable results of his actions, with a constant but indistinct yearning after popular favour, which led him on much further than he intended, and subjected him to the influence of men of a very inferior order, directly against his moral nature and political situation. At the first moment, in 1814, he seemed to be well disposed towards the Restoration; but the tendencies of power, and the persevering rancour of the Royalists, soon threw him back into the ranks of opposition. At the close of the Hundred Days, his hostility to the House of Bourbon became declared and active; a republican in soul, without being sufficiently strong or daring to proclaim the Republic, he opposed as obstinately as vainly the return of royalty; and before the Chamber of 1815, excited but not dismayed, he pledged himself, while the Restoration lasted, to enter and never to desert the ranks of its most inveterate enemies. From 1820 to 1823 he was, not the ostensible head, but the instrument and ornament, of every secret society, of every plot and project of revolution; even of those the results of which he would inevitably have denounced and resisted, had they been crowned with success.

No two people could less resemble each other than M. Manuel and M. de La Fayette. While one was open, improvident, and rash in his hostility, the other was in an equal degree reserved, calculating, and prudent even in his violence, although in real character bold and determined. M. de La Fayette was not exactly a high and mighty lord,--that expression does not apply to him,--but a n.o.ble gentleman, liberal and popular, not naturally a revolutionist, but one who by enthusiasm or example might be led and would himself lead to repeated revolutions. M. Manuel was the obedient child and able defender of the past revolution, capable of joining Government for its interest--a liberal Government, if animated with revolutionary objects, an absolute Government if unlimited power should be necessary to their supremacy,--but determined to uphold revolution in every case and at any price. His mind was limited and uncultivated, and, either in his general life or in parliamentary debate, without any impress of great political views, or of sympathetic or lofty emotions of the soul, beyond the firmness of his att.i.tude and the lucid strength of his language. Although no advocate, and a little provincial in his style, he spoke and acted as a man of party, calmly persevering and resolved, immovable in the old revolutionary arena, and never disposed to leave it either to become a convert to new measures or to adopt new views. The Restoration, in his opinion, was in fact the old system and the counter-revolution. After having confronted it in the Chambers with all the opposition which that theatre permitted, he encouraged, without, every plot and effort of subversion; less ready than M. de La Fayette to place himself at their head, less confident in their success, but still determined to keep alive by these means hatred and war against the Restoration, watching at the same time for a favourable opportunity of launching a decisive blow.

M. d'Argenson had less weight with the party than either of his colleagues, although perhaps the most impa.s.sioned of the three. He was a sincere and melancholy visionary, convinced that all social evils spring from human laws, and bent on promoting every kind of reform, although he had little confidence in the reformers. By his position in society, the generous tone of his sentiments, the seriousness of his convictions, the attraction of an affectionate although reserved disposition, and the charm of a refined and elegant mind, which extracted from his false philosophy bold and original views, he held, in the projects and preliminary deliberations of the conspiring opposition, a tolerably important place; but he was little suited for action, and ready to discourage it, although always prepared for personal engagement. A chimerical but not hopeful fanaticism is not a very promising temperament for a conspirator.

The issue of all these vain but tragical plots is well known. Dogged at every step by authority, sometimes even persecuted by the interested zeal of unworthy agents, they produced, in the s.p.a.ce of two years, in various parts of France, nineteen capital condemnations, eleven of which were carried into effect. When we look back on these gloomy scenes, the mind is bewildered, and the heart recoils from the spectacle of the contrast which presents itself between sentiments and actions, efforts and results; we contemplate enterprises at the same time serious and harebrained, patriotic ardour joined to moral levity, enthusiastic devotion combined with indifferent calculation, and the same blindness, the same perseverance, united to similar impotence in old and young, in the generals and the soldiers. On the 1st of January, 1822, M. de La Fayette arrived in the vicinity of Befort to place himself at the head of the insurrection in Alsace. He found the plot discovered, and several of the leaders already in arrest; but he also met others, MM. Ary Scheffer, Joubert, Carrel, and Guinard, whose princ.i.p.al anxiety was to meet and warn him by the earliest notice, and to save him and his son (who accompanied him) by leading them away through unfrequented roads.

Nine months later, on the 21st of September in the same year, four young non-commissioned officers, Bories, Raoulx, Goubin, and Pommier, condemned to death for the conspiracy of Roch.e.l.le, were on the point of undergoing their sentence; M. de La Fayette and the head committee of the _Carbonari_ had vainly endeavoured to effect their escape. The poor sergeants knew they were lost, and had reason to think they were abandoned. A humane magistrate urged them to save their lives by giving up the authors of their fatal enterprise. All four answered, "We have nothing to reveal," and then remained obstinately silent. Such devotion merited more thoughtful leaders and more generous enemies.

In presence of such facts, and in the midst of the warm debates they excited in the Chamber, the situation of the conspiring Deputies was awkward; they neither avowed their deeds nor supported their friends.

The violence of their attacks against the Ministry and the Restoration in general, supplied but a poor apology for this weakness. Secret a.s.sociations and plots accord ill with a system of liberty; there is little sense or dignity in conspiring and arguing at the same time. It was in vain that the Deputies who were not implicated endeavoured to s.h.i.+eld their committed and embarra.s.sed colleagues; it was in vain that General Foy, M. Casimir Perrier, M. Benjamin Constant, and M. Lafitte, while protesting with vehemence against the accusations charged upon their party, endeavoured to cast the mantle of their personal innocence over the actual conspirators, who sat by their sides. This manoeuvre, more bl.u.s.tering than formidable, deceived neither the Government nor the public; and the conspiring Deputies lost more reputation than they gained security, by being thus defended while they were disavowed, in their own ranks. M. de La Fayette became impatient of this doubtful and unworthy position. During the sitting of the 1st of August, 1822, with reference to the debate on the budget, M. Benjamin Constant complained of a phrase in the act of accusation drawn up by the Attorney-General of Poictiers, against the conspiracy of General Berton, and in which the names of five Deputies were included without their being prosecuted.

M. Lafitte sharply called upon the Chamber to order an inquiry into transactions "which," said he, "as far as they affect myself are infamous falsehoods." M. Casimir Perrier and General Foy supported the motion for inquiry. The Cabinet and the right-hand party rejected it, while defending the Attorney-General and his statements. The Chamber appeared perplexed. M. de La Fayette demanded to be heard, and, with a rare and happy expression of ironical pride, said, "Whatever may be my habitual indifference to party accusations and enmities, I feel called upon to add a few words to what has been said by my honourable friends.

Throughout the course of a career entirely devoted to the cause of liberty, I have constantly desired to be a mark for the malevolence of the adversaries of that cause, under whatever forms, whether despotic, aristocratic, or monarchical, which they may please to select, to contest or pervert it. I therefore make no complaint, although I may claim the right of considering the word _proved_, which the Attorney-General has thought proper to apply to me, a little free; but I join with my friends by demanding, as far as we can, the utmost publicity, both within the walls of this Chamber and in the face of the entire nation. Thus I and my accusers, in whatever rank they may be placed, can say to each other, without restraint, all that we have had mutually to reproach ourselves with during the last thirty years."

The challenge was as transparent as it was fierce. M. de Villele felt the full range of it, which extended even to the King himself; and taking up the glove at once, with a moderation which in its turn was not deficient in dignity, "The orator I follow," said he, "placed the question on its true footing when he said, in speaking of the Chamber, 'as far as we can.' Yes, it is of the utmost importance that, on the subject under discussion, the truth or falsehood should be correctly known; but do we adopt the true method of ascertaining either? Such is not my opinion; if it were, I should at once vote for the inquiry. The proper mode of proceeding appears to me to be, to leave justice to its ordinary course, which no one has a right to arrest.... If members of this Chamber have been compromised in the act of accusation, do they not find their acquittal in the very fact that the Chamber has not been called upon to give them up to be added to the list of the accused? For, gentlemen, it is maintaining a contradiction to say, on the one hand, 'You have placed our names in the requisition for indictment,' and on the other, 'The minister in office has not dared to prosecute, since the Chamber has not been required to surrender us.' And the demand has not been made, because the nature of the process neither imposed it as a duty nor a necessity on the part of the minister to adopt that course. I declare openly, before France, we do not accuse you, because there was nothing in the process which rendered it either inc.u.mbent or essential that we should do so. And we should the more readily have fulfilled that duty, since you cannot suppose us so little acquainted with the human heart as not to know that there would be less danger in subjecting you to direct prosecution than in following simply and openly the line marked out by the ordinary course of justice."

At the close of this sitting, M. de Villele a.s.suredly had good reason to be satisfied with his position and himself. He had exhibited, at the same time, firmness and moderation; by confining himself within the ordinary resources of justice, by disclaiming prosecution to extremity, he had exhibited the arm of power restrained, but ready to strike if necessity should require; he had thus, to a certain extent, defied while he tranquillized the patrons of the conspirators, and had satisfied his own party without irritating their pa.s.sions. On that day he combined the minister with the tactician of the Chamber.

At the time of which we are speaking, M. de Villele stood in the first and best phase of his power; he defended monarchy and order against conspiracy and insurrection; in the Chamber of Deputies he had to repel the furious attacks of the left-hand party, and in the Chamber of Peers the more temperate but vigilant illwill of the friends of the Duke de Richelieu. The danger and acrimony of the contest united his whole party around him. Before such a situation, the rivalries and intrigues of the Chamber and the Court hesitated to show themselves; unreasonable expectations were held in check; fidelity and discipline were evidently necessary; the a.s.sociates of the chief could not desert, and dared not to a.s.sail him with their importunities.

But during the course of the year 1822 the conspiracies were subdued, the perils of the monarchy dissipated, the parliamentary combats, although always bitter, had ceased to be questions of life and death, and the preponderance of the right-hand party appeared to be firmly established in the country as in the Chambers. Other difficulties and dangers then began to rise up round M. de Villele. He had no longer menacing enemies to hold his friends in check; disagreements, demands, enmities, and intrigues beset him on every side. The first attacks sprang from questions of internal policy, and originated in the bosom of his own Cabinet.

I have no desire to p.r.o.nounce severe judgment on the revolutions which agitated Southern Europe from 1820 to 1822. It is hard to say to nations badly governed, that they are neither wise nor strong enough to remedy their own evils. Above all, in our days, when the desire for good government is intense, and none believe themselves too weak to accomplish what they wish, unrestrained truth on this subject offends many sincere friends of justice and humanity. Experience, however, has supplied numerous inferences. Of the three revolutions which occurred in 1820, those of Naples and Turin evaporated in a few months, without any blow being struck, before the sole appearance of the Austrian troops.

The Spanish revolution alone survived, neither abandoned nor established, pursuing its course by violent but uncertain steps, incapable of founding a regular government and of suppressing the resistance with which it was opposed, but still strong enough to keep alive anarchy and civil war. Spain, under the influence of such commotions, was a troublesome neighbour to France, and might become dangerous. The conspirators, defeated at home, found shelter there, and began to weave new plots from that place of refuge. In their turn, the Spanish counter-revolutionists found an asylum in France, and prepared arms on both sides of the Pyrenees. A sanatory line of troops, stationed on our frontier to preserve France from the contagion of the yellow-fever which had broken out in Catalonia, soon grew into an army of observation. The hostile feeling of Europe, much more decided and systematic, co-operated with the mistrust of France. Prince Metternich dreaded a new fit of Spanish revolutionary contagion in Italy; the Emperor Alexander imagined himself called upon to maintain the security of all thrones and the peace of the world; England, without caring much for the success of the Spanish revolution, was extremely anxious that Spain should continue entirely independent, and that French influence should not prevail in the Peninsula. The French Government had to deal with a question not only delicate and weighty in itself, but abounding with still more important complications, and which might lead to a rupture with some, if not with the whole of her allies.

M. de Villele on succeeding to office, had no very defined ideas as to foreign affairs, or any decidedly arranged plans beyond an unbia.s.sed mind and sensible predilections. During his short a.s.sociation with the Cabinet of the Duke de Richelieu, he had closely observed the policy adopted towards Spain and Italy,--a peaceful policy of non-intervention, and of sound advice to kings and liberals, to liberals as to kings, but of little efficacy in act, and tending, above all other considerations, to keep France beyond the vortex of revolutions and counter-revolutions, and to prevent a European conflagration. In the main, M. de Villele approved of this policy, and would have desired nothing better than to continue it. He was more occupied with internal government than external relations, and more anxious for public prosperity than diplomatic influence; but, in the accomplishment of his views, he had to contend against the prepossessions of his party, and in this struggle his two princ.i.p.al a.s.sociates, M. de Montmorency, as Minister for Foreign Affairs, and M. de Chateaubriand, as amba.s.sador at London, contributed more embarra.s.sment than a.s.sistance.

On the formation of the Cabinet, he proposed to the King to give M. de Montmorency the portfolio of foreign affairs. "Take care," replied Louis XVIII. "He has a very little mind, somewhat prejudiced and obstinate; he will betray you, against his will, through weakness. When present, he will say he agrees with you, and may perhaps think so at the time; when he leaves you, he will suffer himself to be led by his own bias, contrary to your views, and, instead of being aided, you will be thwarted and compromised." M. de Villele persevered; he believed that, with the right-hand party, the name and influence of M. de Montmorency were of importance. Not long after, he had an opportunity of satisfying himself that the King had judged correctly. M. de Serre having refused to hold office in the new Cabinet, M. de Villele, to remove him with the semblance of a compliment, requested the King to appoint him amba.s.sador at Naples. M. de Montmorency, who wanted this post for his cousin the Duke de Laval, went so far as to say that he should resign if it were refused to him. The King and M. de Villele kept their resolution; M. de Serre went to Naples, and M. de Montmorency remained in the Ministry, but not without discontent at the preponderance of a colleague who had treated him with so little complaisance.

M. de Chateaubriand, by accepting the emba.s.sy to London, relieved M. de Villele from many little daily annoyances; but he was not long satisfied with his new post. He wished to reign in a coterie, and to receive adulation without constraint. He produced less effect in English society than he had antic.i.p.ated; he wanted more success and of a more varied character; he was looked upon as a distinguished writer, rather than as a great politician; they considered him more opinionated than profound, and too much occupied with himself. He excited curiosity, but not the admiration he coveted; he was not always the leading object of attention, and enjoyed less freedom, while he called forth little of the enthusiastic idolatry to which he had been accustomed elsewhere. London, the English court and drawing-rooms, wearied and displeased him; he has perpetuated the impression in his Memoirs:--"Every kind of reputation,"

he says, "travels rapidly to the banks of the Thames, and leaves them again with the same speed. I should have worried myself to no purpose by endeavouring to acquire any knowledge of the English. What a life is a London season! I should prefer the galleys a hundred times."

An opportunity soon presented itself, which enabled him to seek in another direction more worldly excitement and popularity. Revolution and civil war went on increasing in Spain from day to day; tumults, murders, sanguinary combats between the people and the royal guards, the troops of the line and the militia, multiplied in the streets of Madrid. The life of Ferdinand VII. appeared to be in question, and his liberty was actually invaded.

M. de Metternich, whose importance and influence in Europe had greatly increased ever since he had so correctly foreseen the weakness, and so rapidly stifled the explosion, of the Italian revolutions, applied his entire attention to the affairs of the Spanish Peninsula, and urged the sovereigns and their ministers to deliberate on them in common accord.

As soon as it was settled that a Congress should a.s.semble with this object, at Verona, M. de Chateaubriand made powerful applications, directly and indirectly, to M. de Montmorency and M. de Villele, to be included in the mission. M. de Montmorency had no idea of acceding to this, fearing to be opposed or eclipsed by such a colleague. The King, Louis XVIII., who had no confidence either in the capacity of M. de Montmorency or the judgment of M. de Chateaubriand, was desirous that M. de Villele himself should repair to Verona, to maintain the prudent policy which circ.u.mstances required. M. de Villele objected. It would be, he said to the King, too decided an affront to his minister of foreign affairs and his amba.s.sador in London, who were naturally called to this duty; it would be better to send them both, that one might control the other, and to give them specific instructions which should regulate their att.i.tude and language. The King adopted this advice. The instructions, drawn up by M. de Villele's own hand, were discussed and settled in a solemn meeting of the Cabinet; M. de Chateaubriand knew to a certainty that he owed the accomplishment of his desires to M. de Villele alone; and eight days after the departure of M. de Montmorency, the King, to secure the preponderance of M. de Villele, by a signal mark of favour, appointed him President of the Council.

The instructions were strictly defined; they prescribed to the French plenipotentiaries to abstain from appearing, when before the Congress, as reporters of the affairs of Spain, to take no initiative and enter into engagement as regarded intervention, and, in every case, to preserve the total independence of France, either as to act or future resolve. But the inclinations of M. de Montmorency accorded ill with his orders; and he had to treat with sovereigns and ministers who wished precisely to repress the Spanish revolution by the hand of France,--in the first place, to accomplish this work without taking it upon themselves, and also to compromise France with England, who was evidently much averse to French interference. The Prince de Metternich, versed in the art of suggesting to others his own views, and of urging with the air of co-operation, easily obtained influence over M. de Montmorency, and induced him to take with the other Powers the precise initiative, and to enter into the very engagements, he had been instructed to avoid. M. de Chateaubriand, who filled only a secondary post in the official negotiation, kept at first a little on the reserve: "I do not much like the general position in which he has placed himself here," wrote M. de Montmorency to Madame Recamier;[17]

"he is looked upon as singularly sullen; he a.s.sumes a stiff and uncouth manner, which makes others feel ill at ease in his presence. I shall use every effort, before I go, to establish a more congenial intercourse between him and his colleagues." M. de Montmorency had no occasion to trouble himself much to secure this result. As soon as he had taken his departure, M. de Chateaubriand a.s.sumed a courteous and active demeanour at the Congress. The Emperor Alexander, alive to the reputation of the author of the 'Genius of Christianity,' and to his homage to the founder of the 'Holy Alliance,' returned him compliment for compliment, flattery for flattery, and confirmed him in his desire of war with the Spanish revolution, by giving him reason to rely, for that course of policy and for himself, upon his unlimited support. Nevertheless, in his correspondence with M. de Villele, M. de Chateaubriand still expressed himself very guardedly: "We left," said he, "our determination in doubt; we did not wish to appear impracticable; we were apprehensive that, if we discovered ourselves too much, the President of the Council would not listen to us."

I presume that M. de Villele fell into no mistake as to the pretended doubt in which M. de Chateaubriand endeavoured to envelop himself. I also incline to think that he himself, at that epoch, looked upon a war with Spain as almost inevitable. But he was still anxious to do all in his power to avoid it, if only to preserve with the moderate spirits, and the interests who dreaded that alternative, the att.i.tude and reputation of an advocate for peace. Sensible men are unwilling to answer for the faults they consent to commit. As soon as he ascertained that M. de Montmorency had promised at Verona that his Government would take such steps at Madrid, in concert with the three Northern Powers, as would infallibly lead to war, M. de Villele submitted to the King in council these premature engagements, declaring at the same time that, for his part, he did not feel that France was bound to adopt the same line of conduct with Austria, Prussia, and Russia, or to recall at once, as they wished to do, her Minister at Madrid, and thus to give up all renewed attempts at conciliation. It was said that, while using this language, he had his resignation already prepared and visible in his portfolio. Powerful supporters were not wanting to this policy. The Duke of Wellington, recently arrived in Paris, had held a conversation with M. de Villele, and also with the King, on the dangers of an armed intervention in Spain, and proposed a plan of mediation, to be concerted between France and England, to induce the Spaniards to introduce into their const.i.tution the modifications which the French Cabinet itself should indicate as sufficient to maintain peace. Louis XVIII. placed confidence in the judgment and friendly feeling of the Duke of Wellington; he closed the debate in the Council by saying, "Louis XIV.

levelled the Pyrenees; I shall not allow them to be raised again. He placed my family on the throne of Spain; I cannot let them fall. The other sovereigns have not the same duties to fulfil. My amba.s.sador ought not to quit Madrid, until the day when a hundred thousand Frenchmen are in march to replace him." The question thus decided against the promises he had made at Verona, M. de Montmorency, on whom a few days before, and at the suggestion of M. de Villele, the King had conferred the t.i.tle of Duke, suddenly tendered his resignation. The 'Moniteur,' in announcing it, published a despatch which M. de Villele, while holding _ad interim_ the portfolio of foreign affairs, addressed to Count de Lagarde, the King's minister at Madrid, prescribing to him an att.i.tude and language which still admitted some chance of conciliation; and three days later M. de Chateaubriand, after some display of appropriate hesitation, replaced M. de Montmorency as Foreign Minister.

Three weeks had scarcely pa.s.sed over, when the Spanish Government, controlled by a sentiment of national dignity more magnanimous than enlightened, by popular enthusiasm, and by its own pa.s.sions, refused all const.i.tutional modification whatever. The amba.s.sadors of the three Northern Powers had already quitted Madrid. The Count de Lagarde remained there. On the refusal of the Spaniards, M. de Chateaubriand recalled him, on the 18th of January, 1823, instructing him at the same time, in a confidential despatch, to suggest the possibility of amicable measures; and of this he also apprised the English Cabinet. These last overtures proved as futile as the preceding ones. At Madrid they had no confidence in the French Ministry; and the Government of London placed too little dependence either on the power or discretion of that of Madrid, to commit itself seriously by engaging the latter, through the weight of English influence, to submit to the concessions, otherwise reasonable, which France required. Affairs had reached the point at which the ablest politicians, without faith in the efficacy of their own views, were unwilling to adopt decided measures.

On the 28th of January, 1823, M. de Villele determined on war, and the King announced this decision in his speech on opening the session of both Chambers. Nevertheless eight days later, M. de Chateaubriand declared to Sir Charles Stuart, the English amba.s.sador at Paris, that, far from dreaming of establis.h.i.+ng absolute power in Spain, France was still ready to entertain the const.i.tutional modifications she had proposed to the Spanish Government, "as sufficient to induce her to suspend hostile preparations, and to renew friendly intercourse between the two countries on the old footing." At the very moment of engaging in war, M. de Chateaubriand, who desired, and M. de Villele, who was averse to, these extreme measures, equally endeavoured to escape from the responsibility attached to them.

I have nothing to say on the war itself and the course of its incidents.

In principle it was unjust, for it was unnecessary. The Spanish revolution, in spite of its excesses, portended no danger to France or the Restoration. The differences to which it gave rise between the two Governments might have been easily arranged without violating peace. The revolution of Paris, in February, 1848, produced much more serious and better-founded alarms to Europe in general, than the Spanish revolution in 1823 could have occasioned to France. Nevertheless Europe, with sound policy, respected towards France the tutelary principle of the internal independence of nations, which can never be justly invaded except under an absolute and most urgent necessity. Neither do I think that in 1823 the throne and life of Ferdinand VII. were actually in danger. All that has since occurred in Spain justifies the conclusion, that regicide has no accomplices there, and revolution very few partisans. The great and legitimate reasons for war were therefore wanting. In fact, and notwithstanding its success, it led to no profitable result either for Spain or France. It surrendered up Spain to the incapable and incurable tyranny of Ferdinand VII., without putting an end to revolutions; and subst.i.tuted the barbarities of popular absolutism for popular anarchy. Instead of securing the influence of France beyond the Pyrenees, it compromised and annulled it to such an extent that, towards the close of 1823, it was found necessary to have recourse to the mediation of Russia, and to send M. Pozzo di Borgo to Madrid to compel Ferdinand VII. to select more moderate advisers. The Northern Powers and England alone retained any credit in Spain,--the first with the King and the Absolutists, the latter with the Liberals; victorious France was there politically vanquished. In the eyes of clear-sighted judges, the advantageous and permanent effects of the war were of no more value than the causes.

As an expedient of restless policy, as a mere _coup-de-main_ of dynasty or party, the Spanish war fully succeeded. The sinister predictions of its opponents were falsified, and the hopes of its advocates surpa.s.sed.

Brought under proof together, the fidelity of the army and the impotence of the conspiring refugees were clearly manifested. The expedition was easy but not inglorious, and added much to the personal credit of the Duke d'Angouleme. The prosperity and tranquillity of France received no check. The House of Bourbon exhibited a strength and resolution which the Powers who urged it on scarcely expected; and England, who would have restrained the effort, submitted to it patiently, although with some dissatisfaction. Regarding matters in this light only, M. de Chateaubriand was correct in writing to M. de Villele from Verona, "It is for you, my dear friend, to consider whether you ought not to seize this opportunity, which may never occur again, of replacing France in the rank of military powers, and of re-establis.h.i.+ng the white c.o.c.kade, in a short war almost without danger, and in favour of which the opinion of the Royalists and of the army so strongly impels you at this moment." M. de Villele was mistaken in his answer: "May G.o.d grant,"

said he, "for my country and for Europe, that we may not persist in an intervention which I declare beforehand, with the fullest conviction, will compromise the safety of France herself."

After such an event, in which they had taken such unequal shares, the relative positions of these two statesmen became sensibly changed; but the alteration did not yet appear for some time. M. de Chateaubriand endeavoured to triumph with modesty, and M. de Villele, not very sensitive to the wounds of personal vanity, treated the issue of the war as a general success of the Cabinet, and prepared to turn it to his own advantage, without considering to whom the princ.i.p.al honour might be due. Accustomed to power, he exercised it without noise or parade, and was careful not to clash with his adversaries or rivals, who thus felt themselves led to admit his preponderance as a necessity, rather than humiliated to endure it as a defeat. The dissolution of the Chamber of Deputies became his fixed idea and immediate object. The liberal Opposition was too strong there to allow him to hope that he could carry the great measures necessary to satisfy his party. The Spanish war had led to debates, continually increasing in animosity, which in time produced violence in the stronger, and anger in the weaker party, beyond all previous example. After the expulsion of M. Manuel on the 3rd of March, 1823, and the conduct of the princ.i.p.al portion of the left-hand party, who left the hall with him when he was removed by the gendarmes, it was almost impossible to expect that the Chamber could resume its regular place or share in the government. On the 24th of December, 1823, it was in fact dissolved, and M. de Villele, putting aside the differences of opinion on the Spanish war, applied his whole attention to ensure the success of the elections and the formation of a new Chamber, from which he could demand with confidence what the right-hand party expected from him, and which, according to his expectation, should secure a long duration of his influence both with that party and with the Court.

M. de Chateaubriand had no such objects to contemplate or effect.

Unacquainted with the internal government of the country, and the daily management of the Chambers, he enjoyed the success of _his_ Spanish war, as he called it, with tranquil pride,--ready, on provocation, to become active and bitter. He wanted exactly the qualities which distinguished M. de Villele, and he possessed those, or rather the instinct and inclination of those, in which M. de Villele was deficient.

Entering late on public life, and until then unknown, with a mind but slightly cultivated, and little distracted from business by the force or variety of his imaginative ideas, M. de Villele had ever one leading object,--to reach power by faithfully serving his party; and, power once obtained, to hold it firmly, while exercising it with discretion.

Launched on the world almost from infancy, M. de Chateaubriand had traversed the whole range of ideas, attempted every career, aspired to every renown, exhausted some, and approached others; nothing satisfied him. "My capital defect," said he himself, "has been _ennui_, disgust with everything, perpetual doubt." A strange temperament in a man devoted to the restoration of religion and monarchy! Thus the life of M. de Chateaubriand had been a constant and a perpetual combat between his enterprises and his inclinations, his situation and his nature. He was ambitious, as the leader of a party, and independent, as a volunteer of the forlorn hope; captivated by everything great, and sensitive even to suffering in the most trifling matters, careless beyond measure of the common interests of life, but pa.s.sionately absorbed, on the stage of the world, in his own person and reputation, and more annoyed by the slightest check than gratified by the most brilliant triumph; in public life, more jealous of success than power, capable in a particular emergency, as he had just proved, of conceiving and carrying out a great design, but unable to pursue in government, with energy and patience, a well-cemented and strongly-organized line of policy. He possessed a sympathetic understanding of the moral impressions of his age and country; more able however, and more inclined, to win their favour by compliance than to direct them to important and lasting advantages; a n.o.ble and expanded mind, which, whether in literature or politics, touched all the exalted chords of the human soul, but more calculated to strike and charm the imagination than to govern men; greedy, to an excess, of praise and fame, to satisfy his pride, and of emotion and novelty, as resources from const.i.tutional weariness.

At the very moment when he was achieving a triumph in Spain for the House of Bourbon, he received disappointments from the latter quarter, the remembrance of which he has thought proper to perpetuate himself:--"In our ardour," said he, "after the arrival of the telegraphic despatch which announced the deliverance of the King of Spain, we Ministers hastened to the palace. There I received a warning of my fall,--a pailful of cold water which recalled me to my usual humility. The King and _Monsieur_ took no notice of us. The d.u.c.h.ess d'Angouleme, bewildered with the glory of her husband, distinguished no one.... On the Sunday following, before the Council met, I returned to pay my duty to the royal family. The august Princess said something complimentary to each of my colleagues; to me she did not deign to address a single word: undoubtedly I had no claim to such an honour. The silence of the Orphan of the Temple can never be considered ungrateful." A more liberal sovereign undertook to console M. de Chateaubriand for this royal ingrat.i.tude; the Emperor Alexander, with whom he had continued in intimate correspondence, being anxious to signalize his satisfaction, conferred on him and M. de Montmorency, and on them alone, the great riband of the Order of St. Andrew.

M. de Villele was not insensible to this public token of imperial favour bestowed on himself and his policy; and the King, Louis XVIII., showed that he was even more moved by it. "Pozzo and La Ferronays," said he to M. de Villele, "have made me give you, through the Emperor Alexander, a slap on the cheek; but I shall be even with him, and mean to pay for it in coin of a better stamp. I name you, my dear Villele, a knight of my Orders; they are worth more than his." And M. de Villele received from the King the Order of St. Esprit. It was in vain that a little later, and on the mutual request of the two rivals, the Emperor Alexander conferred on M. de Villele the Grand Cross of St. Andrew, and the King, Louis XVIII., gave the Saint Esprit to M. de Chateaubriand; favours thus extorted cannot efface the original disappointments.

To these courtly slights were soon added causes of rupture more serious.

The dissolution of the Chamber had succeeded far beyond the expectations of the Cabinet. The elections had not returned from the left, or the left centre, more than seventeen oppositionists. Much more exclusively than that of 1815, the new Chamber belonged to the right-hand party; the day had now arrived to give them the satisfaction they had long looked for. The Cabinet immediately brought in two bills, which appeared to be evident preparatives and effectual pledges for the measures most ardently desired. By one, the integral remodelling of the Chamber of Deputies every seven years was subst.i.tuted for the partial and annual reconstruction as at present in force. This was bestowing on the new Chamber a guarantee of power as of durability. The second bill proposed the conversion of the five per cent. annuities into three per cents; that is to say, a reimburs.e.m.e.nt, to the holders of stock, of their capital at par, or the reduction of interest. To this great financial scheme was joined a political measure of equal importance,--indemnity to the Emigrants, with preparations for carrying it into effect. The two bills had been discussed and approved in council. On the question of the septennial renewal of the Chamber of Deputies, M. de Chateaubriand proposed the reduction of age necessary for electors; he failed in this object, but still supported the bill. With respect to the conversion of the funds, the friends of M. de Villele a.s.serted that M. de Chateaubriand warmly expressed his approbation of the measure, and was even anxious that, by a previous arrangement with the bankers, M. de Villele should secure the means of carrying it, as a preface to that which was intended to heal the most festering wound of the Revolution.

But the debate in the Chambers soon destroyed the precarious harmony of the Cabinet. The conversion of the funds was vigorously opposed, not only by the numerous interests thereby injured, but by the unsatisfied feeling of the public on a new measure extremely complicated and ill understood. In both Chambers, the greater portion of M. de Chateaubriand's friends spoke against the bill; it was said that he was even hostile to it himself. Some observations were attributed to him on the imprudence of a measure which no one desired, no public necessity called for, and was merely an invention of the bankers, adopted by a Minister of Finance, who hoped to extract reputation from what might lead to his ruin. "I have often seen," he was accused of saying, "people break their heads against a wall; but I have never, until now, seen people build a wall for the express purpose of running their heads against it." M. de Villele listened to these reports, and expressed his surprise at them; his supporters inquired into the cause.

Hints were uttered of jealousy, of ambition, of intrigues to depose the President of the Council, and to occupy his place. When the bill had pa.s.sed the Chamber of Deputies, the debate in the Chamber of Peers, and the part that M. de Chateaubriand would take in it, were looked forward to with considerable misgivings. He maintained profound silence, not affording the slightest support; and when the bill was thrown out, approaching M. de Villele, he said to him, "If you resign, we are ready to follow you." He adds, while relating this proposal himself, "M. de Villele, for sole answer, honoured us with a look which we still have before us. This look, however, made no impression."

It is well known how M. de Chateaubriand was dismissed two days after the sitting. From whence proceeded the rudeness of this dismissal? It is difficult to decide. M. de Chateaubriand attributed it to M. de Villele alone. "On Whit Sunday, the 6th of June, 1824," says he, "at half-past ten in the morning I repaired to the palace. My princ.i.p.al object was to pay my respects to _Monsieur_. The first saloon of the Pavillon Marsan was nearly empty; a few persons entered in succession, and seemed embarra.s.sed. An aide-de-camp of _Monsieur_ said to me, 'Viscount, I scarcely hoped to see you here; have you received no communication?' I answered, 'No; what am I likely to receive?' He replied, 'I fear you will soon learn.' Upon this, as no one offered to introduce me to _Monsieur_, I went to hear the music in the chapel. I was quite absorbed in the beautiful anthems of the service, when an usher told me some one wished to speak with me. It was Hyacinth Pilorge, my secretary. He handed to me a letter and a royal ordinance, saying at the same time, 'Sir, you are no longer a minister.' The Duke de Rauzan, Superintendent of Political Affairs, had opened the packet in my absence, and had not ventured to bring it to me. I found within, this note from M. de Villele; 'Monsieur le Vicomte,--I obey the orders of the King, in transmitting without delay to your Excellency a decree which his Majesty has just placed in my hand:--The Count de Villele, President of our Ministerial Council, is charged, _ad interim_, with the portfolio of Foreign Affairs, in place of the Viscount de Chateaubriand.'"

The friends of M. de Villele a.s.sert that it was the King himself, who in his anger dictated the rude form of the communication. "Two days after the vote," say they, "as soon as M. de Villele entered the royal cabinet, Louis XVIII. said to him: 'Chateaubriand has betrayed us like a----; I do not wish to receive him after Ma.s.s; draw up the order for his dismissal, and let it be sent to him in time; I will not see him.'

All remonstrances were useless; the King insisted that the decree should be written at his own desk and immediately forwarded.

M. de Chateaubriand was not found at home, and his dismissal was only communicated to him at the Tuileries, in the apartments of _Monsieur_."

Whoever may have been the author of the measure, the blame rests with M. de Villele. If it was contrary to his desire, a.s.suredly he had credit enough with the King to prevent it. Contrary to his usual habit, he exhibited more temper on this occasion than coolness or foresight. There are allies who are necessary, although extremely troublesome; and M. de Chateaubriand, despite his pretensions and his whims, was less dangerous as a rival than as an enemy.

Although without connection in the Chambers, and with no control as an orator, he immediately became a brilliant and influential leader of the Opposition, for opposition was his natural bent as well as the excitement of the moment. He excelled in unravelling the instincts of national discontent, and of continually exciting them against authority by supplying them with powerful motives, real or specious, and always introduced with effect. He also possessed the art of depreciating and casting odium on his adversaries, by keen and polished insults constantly repeated, and at the same time of bringing over to his side old opponents, destined soon to resume their former character, but for the moment attracted and overpowered by the pleasure and profit of the heavy blows he administered to their common enemy. Through the favour of the MM. Bertin, he found on the instant, in the 'Journal des Debats,'

an important avenue for his daily attacks. As enlightened and influential in politics as in literature, these two brothers possessed the rare faculty of collecting round themselves by generous and sympathetic patronage, a chosen cohort of clever writers, and of supporting their opinions and those of their friends with manly intelligence. M. Bertin de Veaux, the more decided politician of the two, held M. de Villele in high esteem, and lived in familiar intimacy with him. "Villele," said he to me one day, "is really born for public business; he has all the necessary disinterestedness and capacity; he cares not to s.h.i.+ne, he wishes only to govern; he would be a Minister of Finance in the cellar of his hotel, as willingly as in the drawing-rooms of the first story." It was no trifling matter which could induce the eminent journalist to break with the able minister. He sought an interview with M. de Villele, and requested him, for the preservation of peace, to bestow on M. de Chateaubriand the emba.s.sy to Rome. "I shall not risk such a proposition to the King," replied M. de Villele. "In that case," retorted M. Bertin, "you will remember that the 'Debats'

overthrew the ministries of Decazes and Richelieu, and will do the same by the ministry of Villele."--"You turned out the two first to establish royalism," said M. de Villele; "to destroy mine you must have a revolution."

There was nothing in this prospect to inspire M. de Villele with confidence, as the event proved; but thirteen years later, M. Bertin de Veaux remembered the caution. When, in 1837, under circ.u.mstances of which I shall speak in their proper place, I separated from M. Mole, he said to me with frankness, "I have certainly quite as much friends.h.i.+p for you as I ever had for M. de Chateaubriand, but I decline following you into Opposition. I shall not again try to sap the Government I wish to establish. One experiment of that nature is enough."

At Court, as in the Chamber, M. de Villele was triumphant; he had not only conquered, but he had driven away his rivals, M. de Montmorency and M. de Chateaubriand, as he had got rid of M. de La Fayette and M. Manuel. Amongst the men whose voices, opinions, or even presence might have fettered him, death had already stepped in, and was again coming to his aid. M. Camille Jordan, the Duke de Richelieu, and M. de Serre were dead; General Foy and the Emperor Alexander were not long in following them. There are moments when death seems to delight, like Tarquin, in cutting down the tallest flowers. M. de Villele remained sole master. At this precise moment commenced the heavy difficulties of his position, the weak points of his conduct, and his first steps towards decline.