M. Capefigue

One of the torments of a statesman who has played a great part in politics is to see his conduct subjected to the judgment of ignoble minds and the discussions of people incapable of forming a just estimate of it. How much has been written concerning M. de Talleyrand! how many bons mots, and how many rude sayings have been attributed to him! His biography has been made a sort of Ana, for the amusement of idle people; he has been represented as a kind of facetious personage, almost a mountebank, abounding in all the little wit of society, and of provincial towns. Few men have pierced through the mysteries of that long existence; still fewer have read in the wrinkles of this old man, and in his eyes, still sparkling under his slightly contracted brows, the secret thoughts, the powerful motives that swayed his life, which was one of unity and system.

If you have ever travelled in the southern part of France, you must have lingered in the PÉrigord, the province which still comprehends the best and the most numerous nobility of very ancient descent in the whole kingdom. There you will on every side meet with memorials of the Bosons and the Talleyrands, the sovereign princes of the province of Quercy: the keepers of the old records will recount to you the exploits of the Bosons of PÉrigord, under the Wolf dukes during the Carlovingian dynasty, who received this name from their wild exploits in the forests. The families of Talleyrand and Montesquiou-Fezensac disputed with each other the precedence over all the southern nobility. M. de Talleyrand sprang from the younger branch of the Grignols, who were of the stock of AndrÉ de Talleyrand, Comte de Grignols, the youngest branch of the PÉrigord family; the eldest branch became extinct upon the death of Marie Francoise, Princess of Chalais, and Marchioness of Exideuil.[8]

I have been particular in dwelling upon the high nobility of his origin, because it greatly assisted his position in diplomatic affairs. Noble birth, however people may declaim against it, facilitates negotiations with European powers. Be it a weakness, be it a habit, when a man takes his place as a titled nobleman, among so many foreigners of illustrious birth, it is an advantage to his position; he treats on a footing of equality, he obtains more because he is among his peers, misfortune does not upset him, because he preserves his name in spite of every thing; he cannot be degraded, for revolutions no more deprive him of the nobility of his race, than the royal confiscations that formerly took place could destroy the old family coat-of-arms.

Charles Maurice de Talleyrand-PÉrigord was born at Paris in the year 1754; his maternal grandmother was the clever and witty Princess des Ursins, that eminent person who directed the councils of Philip V. of Spain, as her friend Madame de Maintenon governed the mind of Louis XIV. M. de Talleyrand, being the youngest of the family, was intended for holy orders, according to the custom of the nobility, who devoted themselves to the profession of arms, to the church, or the manor; an active life was necessary to men of family. There had always been a high prelate of the house of Talleyrand, and this ecclesiastical dignity was intended for the young AbbÉ of PÉrigord, who was accordingly sent at the age of fourteen to the seminary of Saint-Sulpice. One ought to have heard Talleyrand himself, in his hours of gaiety and unreserve, recount the pranks and first love-affair of the young abbÉ; his scaling the walls, his visits to the roof of the house,—all of them things little suitable to the serious profession for which he was intended by his family. I think that in reading his Memoirs in the year 1827-28, at which time he was out of favour, he made some concessions to the little philosophers of the eighteenth century, who surrounded him under the Restoration.

His ecclesiastical studies were limited; he occupied himself but little with theology, but already very much with business. The situation of general agent for the clergy was given him by the custom of his family, which was a very lucrative appointment, for he might be considered as the chargÉ d'affaires of that great body, and he exhibited great method and remarkable judgment in the skilful application of the revenues of the church, which amounted to above one hundred and thirty-six millions of livres. The clergy met in a chapter every year, and the AbbÉ de Talleyrand gave an account of their revenues, of the steps he had taken, and the duties he had performed with regard to the court; his reports are remarkably exact, with a clearness of style that is very uncommon.

At the age of five-and-thirty, after having attained the majority required by the Church, he was raised to the bishopric of Autun,—a fine appointment, which would afterwards lead to the archbishopric of Rheims and a cardinal's hat. The revenue of the see amounted to 60,000 francs, a magnificent situation for a young bishop, but such was the custom of the nobility; nevertheless, the bent of his inclinations led him to belong to the philosophical society, and the followers of the English school, which began to appear upon the horizon in 1789; among these were Mirabeau, Cabanis, Lally-Tollendal, and Mounier, in fact all the men who were dreaming of a reform in France. People said wittily that M. de Talleyrand, bishop of Autun, with his prebend and his bishopric, looked upon himself as an abuse. At this time people were animated with a glorious passion for suppressing themselves; and when one recollects that the proposal to abolish the titles of nobility was made by De Montmorency, De Montesquiou, La Rochefoucauld, De Talleyrand, and Clermont-Tonnerre, those illustrious elders of the French nobility, one must honestly confess that an incomprehensible spirit of vertigo had taken possession of the French society. There was in this something so insane, so eccentric, that I imagine the ancient nobility must have been led by an interested motive towards the suppression of titles: during the last three centuries so many patents of nobility had been conferred, that the really illustrious families were no longer distinguished: there were too many titled plebeians. Now, if all titles were abolished by a decree, all this nobility of a modern date would be entirely suppressed, for it depended solely upon royal grants and letters patent written according to the caprice of the sovereign; whilst those who bore a historical name, as the Rochefoucaulds, the Montmorencys, and the Montesquious, had no need of deeds to prove their genealogy; it was part of the soil.

The AbbÉ de Talleyrand was in possession of his rich bishopric of Autun when the States-General were convened, and he was appointed deputy of the clergy of his diocese to the Constituent Assembly, so remarkable from its adventurous spirit, the boldness of its conceptions, and its total want of connexion, and absence of all kind of unity or method, either moral or political. The Constituent Assembly was a great chaos, where the opinions of men of talent clashed with each other, where all sorts of extravagances were proposed in the executive government, and all the ideas most fitted to overturn the monarchy and the society of France were encouraged; Rousseau's social contract was applied to a people already old in its customs and civilisation.

The Bishop of Autun shewed himself the most zealous protector of all these innovations; he proposed the abolition of titles, and vehemently advocated the civil constitution of the clergy; he also introduced into the public system of education all the ideas of false and mischievous philosophy which the eighteenth century had diffused in human minds. Along with the Marquis of Condorcet, and Cabanis, he was one of the adepts, and of the friends of Mirabeau, whom that statesman and popular orator used to employ for the furtherance of the interests of his intellectual dictatorship. They were accustomed to meet in the evening at Mirabeau's house, to prepare the projects which would resound the next day from the tribune of the assembly. Without being very well educated, the Bishop of Autun was gifted with an extremely fluent style, and a mode of expression remarkable for its clearness, and its elegant precision: the ancient high nobility certainly always possessed great natural talents; they had but little information, and yet they were eminently gifted with the power of expressing what they wished to say.

The solemn festival of the confederation took place at this period, a singular proceeding of which the spirit has been greatly misrepresented: it was theatrical, for such is always necessary in France. In the Champ de Mars an altar was erected, surmounted by tricoloured flags, upon a scaffolding fifty feet high, ornamented with ribands, also of the national colours. Then came M. de Lafayette, at that time a very handsome man, with his courteous and somewhat hypocritical countenance beaming with smiles, mounted upon his snow-white, slender, prancing steed, and wearing the uniform of the National Guard with long skirts and a three-cornered hat on his head, as it was the fashion at the time of the American War. He was then trying on his royal dignity. Around him crowded the deputations from the Departments with their flags; there were many drunken people, as it was natural there should be, and others tired with having wheeled earth from the Champ de Mars; and there was a plentiful exchange of kisses and embraces, according to the system so approved by Lamourette. At the foot of the altar of which I have spoken appeared M. de Talleyrand, bishop of Autun, dressed in his pontifical habits, his mitre on his head, a crosier in his hand, and with manners as elegant, as much refinement, and as studiously dignified a demeanour, as he afterwards discovered when carrying his crutch stick into the assembly of the corps diplomatique: kneeling beside him was the AbbÉ Louis (afterwards Minister of Finance) one of the curates, in his alb and surplice.

The mass was celebrated with due solemnity by the Bishop of Autun; but there is a tradition which, for the honour and character of Talleyrand, we will believe to be unfounded, that when Mirabeau passed beside the altar the officiating pontiff addressed to him some expressions of mockery and irreligion, which must have weighed heavily upon his conscience on his death-bed. There are, unfortunately, seasons of youth and evil passions, when people give way to anti-Christian ideas, and at that time a degree of impiety was the fashion. Was it not then considered good taste to ridicule the holy and noble ceremonies of the Catholic religion? Talleyrand took a part in all the anti-religious proceedings of the Constituent Assembly upon the situation of the clergy in France, and he was commissioned to apply the civil constitution to his diocese, but the powerful opposition of his clergy did not permit him to accomplish his purpose, for the greater part of the parish priests refused to take the oath. He was present at the consecration of the first constitutional bishops, and, if this devoted conduct was considered deserving of praise by the assembly, it was regarded in a very different light elsewhere, and drew upon him the excommunication of the holy see. Pope Pius VI. published a bull against the Bishop of Autun, in which he declared him out of the pale of the Church, for having become an adherent of the civil constitution of the clergy. This step needs no explanation, such a constitution being in its very essence subversive of all Catholic faith. It was a work of the ultra-Jansenist party, and so thoroughly overstepped all the established rules, that it allowed the Jews and Protestants belonging to various districts and corporations to participate in the election of the Catholic clergy. A bishop or a schoolmaster was appointed in the same manner that a deputy was elected for the National Assembly, for the whole electoral body discharged their duties in the same manner. An absurd principle of equality had levelled every thing; the people appointed the mayors, the bishops, the parish priests, the deputies, and the municipal officers. It was disorder in equality; the levelling principle had trampled down society.

Talleyrand was the intimate friend of Mirabeau, or, to speak with more precision, the great tribune made a tool of him. They had lived together, and together had prepared their works for the Assembly. The popular orator had just been attacked by the mortal disease which carried him off in so rapid and mysterious a manner, and the Bishop of Autun was present when his friend breathed his last. It was not as a ghostly comforter affording him the consolations of his ministry, it was not as a Catholic bishop pointing to a world beyond the grave when those eloquent lips were about to be sealed in death; M. de Talleyrand sat by the bedside of the dying man as the depository of his last thoughts and of his political labours, which led to the destruction of the monarchy. Mirabeau had committed to writing a work upon the equal division of inheritance among the different members of a family, and on the right of making testamentary dispositions, it being the object of the Revolutionists to overturn civil rights as they had already destroyed political ones, because it was well known they were intimately connected. The Bishop of Autun undertook to read the discourse of Mirabeau in the name of his friend at the National Assembly, and excited the most lively enthusiasm while repeating the last words of the orator whose career was now at an end. The life of Mirabeau had been, in some respects, the reaction of a mind filled with strong passions against the persecutions he had endured as a son from the hand of a severe and inflexible father, and his discourse upon limiting the right of making a will and on the equal division of inheritance affords the most certain proof of it. The gift of eloquence was held in the most enthusiastic estimation by the Constituent Assembly, it resolved the greatest part of its business into brilliant oratorical theories, resting upon the ideas of demolition, which were the offspring of the eighteenth century, and as Talleyrand had some difficulty in ascending the tribune, he played but a secondary part at that time. He excited attention principally by his management of business and by his assiduous attendance on committees; it does not appear that he had attained, even at this period, to the reputation of taciturn ability enjoyed by the AbbÉ SiÉyÈs, and I seldom meet with his name in important and brilliant discussions.

When the Constituent Assembly had concluded their work, Talleyrand quitted France for England. M. de Chauvelin was ambassador there from the unfortunate Louis XVI., and the Bishop of Autun received a commission, of which the object was to draw the two governments of France and England into a nearer resemblance to each other, by establishing a system of two legislative chambers exactly upon the model of the English houses of parliament. There was already some idea of a revolution like that of 1688, and Talleyrand might serve as an agent for the attempt, for there was a good understanding between him and M. de Chauvelin, and a still better between him and the clubs of England. But opinions travelled too fast to allow proper consideration being given to the due balance of power, and the sovereignty of the people had given rise to the scheme of a single chamber. Diplomatic business now went on in a singular manner; instead of the clever and prudent system, which since the commencement of the reign of Louis XVI. had secured so many advantages to France, so many favourable treaties, so many important annexations of territory, the diplomatic corps now amused themselves in encouraging the propaganda and spreading every where the spirit of Jacobinism. M. de Talleyrand had some interviews with the principal leaders of the Whigs, and his intimacy with Earl Grey began from this date. Shortly after this, being concerned in the intrigues of Danton, he returned to Paris on the 11th of August, and he always took pleasure in saying that his not having perished on the 2d of September was owing to the efforts of that singularly energetic man, as well as his having been able to obtain a passport for England.

As the course of events was progressing towards war, and that the trial of Louis XVI. was considered by the Tories as a total subversion of every thing, Talleyrand received an order to quit Great Britain in virtue of the alien act, and was only allowed twenty-four hours to make his arrangements. In the year 1793 people were in the midst of revolutionary excitements; he, therefore, did not return to France, but embarked for the United States, the country that was then pointed out as a model, a pattern government, which the republican party in the Legislative Assembly always cited as the most perfect that political ideas could conceive, and which M. de la Fayette never ceased to extol. At that time two schools prevailed, the American system and the revolution of 1688, both of which have been since renewed and perpetuated both in men and events.

Talleyrand settled in the United States, and during some years he devoted himself to commerce, and engaged in speculations with a considerable degree of activity. There always was something adventurous and bold in his disposition in money matters; to use a familiar expression, no one ever made his fortune oftener than M. de Talleyrand, without being particularly scrupulous as to the means he employed. His property in France was sequestered, it was, therefore, with very limited funds that he commenced his mercantile operations in the United States; and it was certainly singular enough to see a bishop of 1789, afterwards a popular orator, then a secret diplomatist acting as a spy for a party of the National Assembly, finally transforming himself into a merchant in a counting-house at Boston or New York. The shades of the ancient Bosons of PÉrigord, those great feudal barons, must have been horrified and have indignantly grasped their lances and their coats of arms when they contemplated their descendant seated amid bales of cotton in a republic of shopkeepers. In this manner do revolutions take hold of a man's destiny, play with it, and raise and abase it by turns; but the nobility had already accustomed France to still more extraordinary courses: had not men of noble birth in Brittany and Gascony become freebooters and buccaneers under Henry IV., Louis XIII., and Louis XIV.?

A commercial profession in a country so distant from important events did not suit Talleyrand's inclination, and when order was a little restored, he lost no time in soliciting permission to return to France, the scene of his earliest days. He had left many friends there, among the partisans of what was called the moderate republic and constitutional system; such were Chenier and Madame de StaËl, belonging to the literary and philosophical portion of society under the Directory, who had regained some degree of importance after the Reign of Terror was past, for in calmer times the different shades of a party become more evident.

It was particularly to the earnest solicitations of Madame de StaËl that Talleyrand owed his return, and we know that her influence was at that time very great. Chenier undertook the report, and a decree was passed revoking the rigorous measures that had been adopted in 1793 against the late Bishop of Autun; it was also declared that he had not emigrated. Talleyrand had at that time entirely left off the ecclesiastical habit, and appeared every where as a layman. He enjoyed in the world a great reputation for wit and talent; there was something noble in his countenance, without its being exactly striking; he carried his head remarkably well, and his hair fell in curls upon his shoulders. He was no longer a young man, still his reputation for gallantry and for agreeableness in society had procured for him a great ascendancy over some women of that period, in the midst of that most singular society in the time of Barras and the Directory, in which were jumbled together men of high rank, contractors, renowned characters, and courtesans. Talleyrand had brought with him Madame Grand, with whom he had become acquainted at Hamburg, and, by a whimsical contrast, it was said no woman ever was possessed of less sense or less intelligence. We know how many capital stories were told of her in the Fauxbourg St. Germain, of which even the republic was so much afraid. The reason is, that the spirit of good society possesses great influence at the time that a bad state of society prevails. Jests were uttered, and the most charming naÏvetÉs were attributed to Madame Talleyrand, of which that regarding M. Denon and Robinson Crusoe is, perhaps, the most inimitable.

As soon as he arrived in Paris, Talleyrand joined the Constitutional Club, which used to meet at the HÔtel de Salm. Many thinking people saw the republic was gradually coming to an end, it had then but very little root in France. It was no longer possible to maintain a feeble and violent democracy, which gave way to the most fantastic and extraordinary paroxysms in the public assembly; people returned to the system of the balance of power, and to the English ideas that the school of Mounier and Lally-Tollendal had been desirous of rendering prevalent in the Constituent Assembly, and that Talleyrand had been commissioned to represent in London, in his secret mission, in which, as I before observed, there was mingled some idea of a revolution like that of 1688.

The institution of an executive directory had been the first step towards an oligarchic system, where, in default of an unity of power, a centre of action, reduced to five persons, had been established. Talleyrand applied all his credit to the support of the Directory, for, not being strong enough at that time to resist or to try to overturn the government, his only object was to draw some advantage from it. He refused steadily to join the royalist party, which, before the 18th Fructidor, was preparing the downfall of the Directory; still less would he belong to the Jacobin faction, for which he felt a strong antipathy, on account of its construction and its inclinations; accordingly, when the 18th Fructidor burst over France, with the proscription of the councils and the press, he was appointed to the ministry for foreign affairs; and the Moniteur announced that citizen Talleyrand, devoted to the interests of the republic, was about to give a powerful impulse to our relations with foreign powers. To accept office under a republic was a singular employment for the heir of the Bosons of PÉrigord; but then was not the heir of the Barras, a family as old as the rocks of Provence, the chief of the five directors? A curious history might be written by following the career of the old nobility during the French revolution; they assumed the position that men of gentle blood had done in former times during civil disturbances, every thing adventurous suited the younger branches of a noble family.

We must now consider what was the state of France with regard to foreign affairs. The Directory was at war with Austria, Russia, and England; Belgium was ours, we occupied part of Italy, and the rest was transformed into little republics, after the model of the executive directory; for there was at that time, as during all revolutions, a great propaganda mania. Money was the principal instrument of the Directory, every thing was accomplished by means of bribery, and people made haste to achieve a fortune, that they might afterwards spend it in miserable debauchery. When a negotiation was opened with a foreign power, the first step was to impose contributions, and to demand secret presents; and the minister for foreign affairs was a sort of agent commissioned to receive all this spolia opima, which afterwards went to fatten the friends of Barras and SiÉyÈs, or some women who invaded the saloons of the Luxembourg, and presided over their sensual rites. It was a time when modesty was banished; the state of society resembled the Greek courtesans of the Directory, who, while they almost dispensed with clothing, covered even their feet with precious stones. Talleyrand began afresh to work at his fortune, but, no doubt, he manoeuvred with too little discretion, for at the end of some months he was openly denounced by Charles de Lacroix, and was obliged to give in his resignation, after having published a rather curious pamphlet, which I have succeeded in obtaining; it bears the name of "Eclaircissements." A pamphlet written by him is a very rare book, for he has written very little in the course of his life. This little work contains an exposition of the conduct of Citizen Talleyrand, from the time of the Constituent Assembly to his appointment to the ministry for foreign affairs, and is couched in very moderate language. The ex-minister replies to his calumniators with remarkable clearness and simplicity, appealing to the testimony afforded by the past, during the whole course of his life. This pamphlet excited a vast controversy. Citizen Talleyrand was also impeached as an extortioner from the tribune of the Five Hundred, even by Lucien Buonaparte, and he was overwhelmed under the evidence produced against him, with the view of applying the principle of ministerial responsibility to his case. He had great difficulty in escaping from this unpleasant situation, in which he had been placed by rather too much avidity during his ministry for foreign affairs. I must confess, one of the defects of his character was his public indifference to all charges brought against him with regard to money; it often compromised his reputation, and sometimes placed him in a very awkward situation.

Having quarrelled with the Directory, we now find him working with all his might for the establishment of the consular government. Buonaparte had surrounded himself on his return from Egypt with all the men who possessed any political talent or any idea of order in society, and he did not disdain the extensive abilities of M. de Talleyrand. The AbbÉ SiÉyÈs had no predilection for the Bishop of Autun; there was an angry feeling between them on clerical subjects; but Napoleon required them both, he indulged in no feelings of repugnance when the triumph of his ambition was at stake; he therefore employed them both, each according to his abilities, so as to render them subservient to his designs. The influence of Talleyrand over the constitutional party was not devoid of utility upon the 18th Brumaire, and when the consular government was established, the provisional commission appointed him minister for foreign affairs as a recompense for the service he had rendered, and Buonaparte confirmed him in his situation as soon as he was proclaimed First Consul.

A more extensive field was now open before him; the consular government was founded on a principle of unity, there was no longer in their relations with foreign powers the unrestrained violence exhibited by the National Convention, or the unconnected measures pursued by the Directory. It was possible to negotiate with decency and moderation, the relations of one state to another were assuming a character of regularity they had never possessed under any of the preceding governments, and then commenced the great diplomatic arrangements which were at last to bless Europe with repose.

The glorious commencement of the consulate was distinguished by numerous treaties; at Lunneville peace was concluded with Austria, at Amiens a covenant was made with England; other treaties were succeeded by peace with Russia and the Porte, and in all these negotiations Talleyrand evinced great skill and knowledge of what was proper and advisable. He placed the correspondence between governments upon an excellent footing, keeping aloof from the extravagant system which the agents of the Directory introduced into foreign negotiations during the time of the Carmagnole diplomatists, who levied so many forced contributions upon the pictures, the gold crucifixes, and the little property of the poor in the Mont de PiÉtÉ.[9]

These treaties were a great assistance to the fortune of Talleyrand, being almost all followed by presents of considerable value, according to the custom observed in negotiations between one state and another.

On these occasions the minister did not exhibit sufficient modesty, I might say, sufficient discretion, for people had a tolerably good idea how much he had gained by each treaty, in money and diamonds. No doubt there was some exaggeration in the charges brought against him by discontented people, but I repeat it, one great defect of M. de Talleyrand was an inclination to play with bribery and corruption, and to establish it as a theoretic principle, even in his conversation: the stain remains upon his name. He held men in too much contempt, and this is a sentiment which society always returns with interest. It was now necessary he should lay the foundation of a new fortune; he entered boldly into various speculations: while avaricious and economical in little things, he gambled in the stocks with a perfect frenzy, and even lost considerable sums of money in them. Immediately after the peace of Amiens he had speculated upon a rise, and his gain appeared almost certain, but it happened by one of those caprices which stock-jobbing can alone explain, that the public funds fell more than ten per cent after the signing of the treaty, and he lost several millions of francs in a single turn of the stocks. These caprices of fortune occurred repeatedly in the course of his long life, and explain the necessity he was constantly under of repairing his fortune.

The late Bishop of Autun had just been entirely restored to secular life by permission of Pope Pius VII. While the negotiation concerning the concordat was in progress, the First Consul insisted M. Portalis should write to Rome, and request a brief from the pope authorising the secularisation of M. de Talleyrand; and the venerable Pius VII., who made so many sacrifices to obtain peace for the Church, consented to the act, though he rather exceeded his powers by so doing, as according to the canon the character of priest is indelible. It is said that this brief was not entirely explicit, the pontiff did not establish a principle permitting the marriage of priests; he merely, in virtue of his discretionary power, granted an act of indulgence and personal pardon to M. de Talleyrand for a deed he had already committed.

The ex-bishop had hardly laid down his crosier before he was compelled to submit to the imperious requisitions of the First Consul. Buonaparte, who piqued himself upon his strict morality, insisted he should enter the state of matrimony—a most grievous yoke to impose upon a man of wit and good taste, for, with his habitual tact, Talleyrand had been well aware of the amusement afforded to the Fauxbourg St. Germain by the silliness and ignorance of Madame Grand, and when she should be legally invested with the title of Citizeness Talleyrand, how she would expose herself to the sarcasms and the ridicule of the aristocracy! But there was no help for it, for the First Consul had decided it should be so. The marriage was accordingly celebrated at the municipality and in the church, and as people expressed it, the Bishop of Autun took to himself a wife.

The ministry of the First Consul now comprehended two men of great importance, Talleyrand and FouchÉ. The one represented at the court of Buonaparte the ancient aristocracy restored—he was essentially the man of diplomatic forms and traditions; FouchÉ, on the contrary, was the representative of Jacobinism and the revolutionary principle, which the First Consul considered as an internal malady fatal to his power. A deeply-rooted and continual competition could not fail to arise between two characters who had been led to accept office by such different ideas, and who met in the presence of Napoleon as the expression of such different systems. Both were men of incontestable ability, and were constantly informing against each other, or, at least, keeping a careful watch over the proceedings of their rival colleague; in addition to which, FouchÉ was very anxious to obtain the direction of Foreign affairs. Buonaparte was perfectly aware of the hatred that existed between them, but he was too wise to sacrifice one of the ministers to the other; each served as a check upon his rival, and he listened to the information they gave him, quite certain that neither would allow the treacherous dealings of the other to escape. It was in this manner FouchÉ delivered to Buonaparte the minutes of the secret treaty with Paul I., which Talleyrand had communicated to the court of London through the medium of one of his agents. The agent was sacrificed, but Buonaparte did not venture to touch his principal, because there was some danger in making known the treachery. Talleyrand afterwards employed the same agent in several subordinate negotiations; indeed, it is well known that he rather preferred people who were not much incommoded by scruples of conscience, men of whom he could boldly disclaim all knowledge if necessary, and who were content he should do so.

We now come to the lamentable affair of the Duc d'Enghien; and there is not the slightest doubt that Talleyrand was as well acquainted as General Savary with Buonaparte's determination to seize the prince. He denied it in vain, for positive proofs exist of the truth of our assertion; amongst others, his letter to the Baron of Edelsheim, minister of Baden, which has been preserved in an entire state. The following is an extract from it: "The First Consul has considered it necessary to order two detachments to proceed to Offemburg and to Ettenheim, to secure the authors of so odious a crime, which is sufficient to deprive the persons who have been concerned in it of the benefit of the law of nations."

After the arrest of the unfortunate prince, Talleyrand was acquainted with all the proceedings of this horrible affair, and he was present at the privy council where his condemnation was determined upon, or, at least, discussed. I dare not believe the cold and laconic reply attributed to him in the drawing-room of his old friend, the Duchess of ***, the very evening the Duc d'Enghien was tried at Vincennes. This reply was not only an atrocious expression, but it also involved a degree of imprudence which did not make part of his character. It is bad enough to have been concerned even indirectly in so fearful a crime.

In the midst of the active negotiations in which Talleyrand felt obliged to appear and to take a part, was there a political system formed in his mind, or merely a general principle? He still retained a strong bias towards English ideas, and a wish for an alliance with that country. This system, on which his earliest diplomatic plans were based, was constantly in his mind; he had not forgotten his residence in England at the beginning of the French revolution under M. de Chauvelin; he was also intimately connected with the Whig party, and considered Great Britain as the political ally of France against Russia, which last appeared to him, of all the powers in Europe, the most dangerous, as far as the civilisation of the world was concerned. He had not observed that by her situation Russia is our easiest, our most natural, and our most disinterested ally, for France and Russia do not clash either in a political or commercial point of view. But there are some early impressions which never wear out, and Talleyrand had passed some of the best years of his life in England, and on terms of friendship with Lord Grey, Lord Russell, Fox, and Sheridan.

He received the title of Grand Chamberlain at the accession of Napoleon to the throne, for which event his diplomatic correspondence had already prepared Europe, and he had also entered into a solemn justification of it to all the different cabinets. Napoleon liked to be surrounded by people of illustrious birth, and it appeared useful to the brilliancy of his crown to have a Boson de PÉrigord among the officers of his palace; it was in accordance with his passion for aristocratical honours, and his wish to restore the old state of society. M. de Talleyrand played a great part in the first negotiations with Germany, before and after the peace of Presburg, that peace which effected such a radical change in the political and territorial situation of the German nation. It was he who, with the assistance of M. Reinhard, contrived to bring about the Confederation of the Rhine, which made an end of the predominancy in Germany of the ancient house of Austria. After these negotiations were concluded, he received the title of Prince of Benevento, with a real feudal authority under the protectorate of France, which afforded him a revenue of 150,000 livres per annum, and made with his salary as minister for foreign affairs about 500,000 francs.[10] The peace of Presburg was certainly a most brilliant epoch in his ministry. As the representative of the magnificent military government whose grandeur overshadowed the earth, he assumed a certain degree of majesty in his manners and habits. The Prince of Benevento held a cour plÉniÈre for the German electors, who came to request from him a fief, or a portion of his supreme power. At the summit of his greatness, Talleyrand's mind still turned to the English alliance, and when Fox succeeded Pitt at the head of affairs, he again conceived the project of opening negotiations with a view to peace; he was firmly convinced that no general peace could be concluded in Europe without the concurrence of England, and he was desirous a vast system of compensation should be arranged, which might incline her towards pacific measures, for no treaty can be durable that is not based upon equity. But these projects were interrupted by one of the most serious circumstances that occurred in the whole course of his life.

It has been said that Talleyrand retired from office because he did not agree in the opinions of Napoleon regarding the war in Spain. I have deeply studied the question, and I believe this report to be utterly untrue. There is but a slight approximation of dates between his resignation and the treachery of Bayonne; it is this approximation that has been laid hold of to gild the disgrace of the minister. Talleyrand was, in fact, replaced by M. de Champagny a little before the Spanish war, but he took part with the cabinet in all the intrigues which led to the events of Aranjuez. The reunion of the Peninsula in one political system with France agreed well with his historical ideas upon the family compact, and several letters are still in existence from the Prince of Benevento which confirm his participation in all these events, as well as a curious report to the Emperor, demonstrating the advantages that would accrue from reuniting both crowns in his family, in imitation of the grand political scheme of Louis XIV.

The real cause of Talleyrand's disgrace was the active attempts he made to negotiate peace with England independent of Napoleon. The Emperor did not at all like men who acted upon their own opinion; he liked every thing to originate with himself alone. He got rid of Talleyrand as, in succeeding years, he shook off FouchÉ, minister of police.

There are times when men of consideration are a source of embarrassment, when advisers are no longer required: devoted servants alone are necessary. The Prince of Benevento took advantage of the circumstance, and as the Spanish war was very unpopular, he assumed the attitude of a martyr to his love for peace and moderate measures. He was always clever enough to account for his being out of favour by attributing it to some motive which might secure him a good place in public opinion, and he then profited by his situation to wage an underhand, but murderous war, against the power which had rejected him from its circle of activity. When he was no longer at the head of affairs for the purpose of directing them, he took care to bring up the rear, for the sake of causing hinderance and annoyance. Nevertheless, his dismissal was now covered with a golden mantle; he received the title of vice-grand elector, with the same salary of 500,000 francs, that he enjoyed during his ministry. The activity of his mind led him afresh into commercial pursuits, he gambled in the stocks, became a partner in a banking-house at Hamburg and in Paris, he invested considerable sums of money in the English funds, and awaited patiently the course of events. To know how to wait is a great mark of political knowledge, and it was one of Talleyrand's favourite axioms, that patience often leads to favourable situations: he never would be in a hurry.

A secret opposition was beginning to form against Napoleon, even in the highest ranks, among the heads of the senate, of the government, and of the army. Fearful of yet making itself manifest by any overt act, it only ventured upon apparently trifling remarks and half confidences; but people conspired in their minds, expressions were used, which were repeated as apophthegms and prophecies of society. "It is the beginning of the end," said Talleyrand, at the time of the disastrous expedition to Moscow; and this just appreciation had been warmly applauded. What a terrible opposition is that of the salons and the gay world! It kills with a lingering death, it upsets the strongest ideas, it destroys the best-laid plans; it would be far better to be compelled to engage in a pitched battle face to face. This opposition was gradually increasing, and the police establishment of General Savary, which tended more to the employment of brute force than the adoption of intelligent precautions, was incapable of restraining it; it was gradually appearing on every side, besides which the men who placed themselves at the head of the resisting party were of too much consequence for the Emperor to venture to touch them. Talleyrand and FouchÉ now did whatever they pleased with perfect impunity—they were acting against the Emperor, and he did not dare to shew his displeasure. It has always been supposed that Napoleon when at the summit of his greatness might have put down any one; yet, great as he was, there were some men too powerful for him. The day that he had touched Talleyrand or FouchÉ, all the officers of government would have considered themselves at the mercy of a caprice; CambacÉrÈs, Lebrun, Regnault de Saint-Jean d'Angely, feeling themselves henceforth without any security against a master whom they detested, would, perhaps, have shaken off the yoke.

As early as the beginning of the year 1813, Talleyrand had opened a communication with the Bourbons. The venerable Cardinal de PÉrigord, grand almoner to Louis XVIII., was his uncle, but there was a considerable degree of coolness between them; still it may be easily imagined that it facilitated an exchange of hopes and promises, against the chances of a future restoration to the throne; but all this was done secretly and in strict confidence, as the idea of the restoration was not yet sufficiently matured. Talleyrand had never ceased to maintain a communication through his agents with Louis XVIII., who was himself at that time engaged in a confidential correspondence with all the great officers of the state, even including CambacÉrÈs himself. Paris was filled with these letters, notwithstanding which, Talleyrand was one of the council appointed to assist the regency of Maria Louisa, whom the Emperor had placed at the head of affairs. He always exhibited the greatest interest in all questions relating to the government, he attended assiduously the meetings of the council, and appeared the most zealous of the Emperor's servants: the plan of the regency also was congenial to his mind, and he would have been satisfied with it as a political idea. He still, however, carried on an underhand correspondence with Louis XVIII., who, with his perfect knowledge of mankind, engaged to maintain him in his magnificent position, to which he added a promise that he should be placed at the head of the ministry. As to the regency of Maria Louisa, it involved a project for a closer alliance with Austria, and was suggested by the most able men in the council of Napoleon, who were desirous of exciting dissensions among the allied powers by giving rise to divers interests.

The misfortunes of war had now brought the enemy near the capital; and, as the powers of Napoleon became more feeble, people learned to estimate probabilities with a greater degree of certainty: first the regency, then a provisional government, and, finally, the restoration of the Bourbons. Since the year 1812, all illusion concerning the invincible power of Napoleon was over. The burning of Moscow, the snows which had covered the grand army as with a vast shroud, the conspiracy of Mallet, all had tended to place the imperial power in a tottering condition. The negotiations of Talleyrand began to assume an indescribable boldness; the plenipotentiaries of the allied powers had fixed a congress at ChÂtillon, more for the sake of appearances than to discuss really diplomatic questions; and M. de Coulaincourt, whose devotion to the Emperor was undoubted, was to propose a treaty determining the limits of France under the government of Napoleon, or the regency of the archduchess. This was the moment selected by Talleyrand to despatch a secret agent to the head-quarters of the Emperor Alexander. This agent, who was, I believe, M. de Vitrolles, was commissioned to describe the condition of the metropolis, the anxiety there was to get rid of Napoleon, and, above all, the imperative necessity there appeared to be for the restoration of the old dynasty, as the only certain step that could be taken under existing circumstances. M. de Vitrolles evinced great zeal and ability in the discharge of this secret mission, which exposed him to extreme danger; he succeeded in conveying to the Emperor Alexander some letters written in cipher, and a very detailed memorial upon the state of the public mind; but—must I confess it?—the allies, who cared but little about the Bourbons, did not perfectly understand the scope of this movement, neither did they know what might be the result. It was then Talleyrand exerted himself to demonstrate that these two ideas, the ancient territory and the ancient dynasty, were correlative; and the same system had been forcibly represented at ChÂtillon by Lord Castlereagh.

The disaffected party continued to gain strength in Paris. Talleyrand had made friends with several of the senators who still retained some recollections of the Republic, and professed an especial hatred towards Napoleon; such were M. de Lambrechts, Languinais, and GrÉgoire, and the Prince of Benevento could rely upon their assistance in any rising that might be organised against the empire. At the same time he had collected around himself the Duc de Dalberg, the AbbÉ de Pradt, and a multitude of Royalist agents, who were in communication with MM. de Noailles, de Fitzjames, and de Montmorency, all engaged in secret machinations for the Bourbons. The time was come when the Empire must terminate—there was so much disaffection among the citizens of Paris and in the provinces. Great precaution was shewn in taking the first steps in favour of the Bourbon restoration, and the greatest secrecy was observed; as soon, therefore, as it was decided, according to the instructions of Napoleon, that the Empress should leave Paris, and establish her regency at Blois, Talleyrand hastened to declare his intention of shewing his zeal by following the regency, it being necessary he should offer a pledge to the imperialist party in order to prevent suspicion, but by a piece of duplicity, perfectly in keeping with his character and position, he apprised the allies of his pretended flight. Accordingly, Prince Schwartzenberg posted a small body of cavalry at the first stage on the road to Blois, which stopped the carriage of Prince Talleyrand, and obliged him to return to Paris, where the wily diplomatist also declared himself compelled by force to remain. By this means he was enabled to place himself as the head and the nucleus of the general rising against the Emperor; his saloon was open to all the disaffected, and he encouraged the idea of Napoleon's downfall in a manner which charmed the hearts of the Republicans; for Buonaparte's violation of the constitution was the only circumstance that appeared to occur to their minds. The ground was well chosen, and Talleyrand worked at his ease and on an extended scale at the ruin of his master; every thing had tended towards it since the year 1812, and the moral strength of the Empire was gone.

Talleyrand's grand intrigue even began in the senate. He well knew the simplicity and the instinctive repugnance felt by GrÉgoire, Lambrechts, and Languinais, for Napoleon, and he determined they should serve as a pivot for the new order of things. Some of them thought they were making preparations for a regency. Talleyrand promised them constitutional forms and the sovereignty of the people, those old visions of the Republic, and they welcomed all these recollections with ecstasy: there was not much difficulty, certainly, in inducing these second-rate minds to act in concert with him. The patriot party were the first to demand that the Emperor should be deposed; they enumerated all the grievances, upon which they had observed so prudent a silence in the days of his prosperity; they fell upon Napoleon, his forfeiture of the crown was pronounced by the senate in the month of April 1814, and he was thus sacrificed by the party which had obeyed his will with apparent alacrity during the ten years of the Empire. Nothing is so violent or so rancorous in its hatred as an assembly which has long been humbled under a despotic rule: it afterwards takes signal vengeance upon the fallen power.

When the Emperor Alexander entered Paris, Talleyrand's ascendancy over his mind was sufficient to induce him to inhabit the HÔtel de la Rue Saint-Florentin, an unheard-of honour, which gave an undeniable proof of the great estimation in which he was held! The czar occupied the apartments, still to be seen, with the long stone balcony at the extremity of the Rue de Rivoli. It was in the blue drawing-room in this hÔtel that the plan of the Restoration was organised, according to the ideas and principles which I have depicted in a work especially devoted to that purpose.[11] Talleyrand's influence over the proceedings of that time was unbounded; he induced the Emperor Alexander to reject all proposals for continuing the regency of Maria Louisa, as well as the loyal endeavours of Marshal Macdonald. He instigated all these refusals, and had adopted a maxim admirable for its clearness and precision, which he took pleasure in repeating as a means of putting a stop to all negotiations. "The restoration of the Bourbons," said he, "is a principle; every thing else is an intrigue." In after years, he forgot none of the services he had rendered to the old dynasty, and, when out of favour under the Restoration, he took pleasure in shewing this blue drawing-room which had been inhabited by the Emperor Alexander, and would repeat in a tone of affected bitterness and ridicule, as if to brand the ingratitude of the Bourbons, "Nevertheless, gentlemen, it was here the Restoration was accomplished." And then he would describe in his admirable manner the proceedings of that time, and point out the spot occupied by each of the party in the month of May 1814. "At the corner of the table," he would say, "sat the Emperor Alexander, there the King of Prussia, and here the Grand Duke Constantine; a little farther off were Pozzo di Borgo, Nesselrode, and Hardenberg—yes, gentlemen, it was here, in this little room, that we restored the throne of the Bourbons, and the monarchy of 1400 years." And this he would repeat with a sardonic smile which marked his dissatisfaction, and perhaps was an index of some future design of overturning what he had so easily raised. When a monarchy has been restored within the narrow limits of a drawing-room, it cannot be supposed to inspire very great confidence. Such was the secret thought of this great contriver of events.

Up to the arrival of Louis XVIII. Talleyrand was at the head of the provisional government; all the responsibility rested with him, and he had cause to reproach himself with many evil actions which were connected with the spirit of that period, for there are seasons when the human mind does not belong to itself; it is hurried on by the rapid course of ideas, it is imbued with a spirit of reaction. Has the mission of M. de Maubreuil ever been perfectly explained? What was its object? Some people will tell you he received no orders, except to prevent the crown diamonds from being carried away; but other accounts tell a very different story, and assert that he was intrusted to perform a deed of blood, similar perhaps to that which had destroyed the last of the CondÉs. I can positively declare that M. de Maubreuil never had any direct conversation or personal interview with Talleyrand. He took care never to appear in deplorable circumstances of this kind; and all that passed was as follows: One of the confidential secretaries of the minister said to M. de Maubreuil, in perfectly plain language, "This is what the prince requires of you; here is your warrant and a sum of money, and as a proof of what I say, and of his assent, remain in the salon to-day, and he will pass through and bend his head in token of approbation." The sign was made, and M. de Maubreuil considered himself perfectly authorised to undertake the mission. What, I repeat, was its object? The time is hardly yet arrived which makes it allowable to tell and to publish every thing; I judge no man's conduct, I only repeat that there are times when people do not appear to belong to themselves.

On his arrival in Paris, Louis XVIII. appointed Talleyrand prime-minister with the direction of foreign affairs; thus leaving him the supreme charge of all diplomatic negotiations, as a mark of gratitude and a pledge of general peace. A treaty was signed, France returned to her ancient territory and her ancient dynasty, as it had been decided after the events of Paris; all diplomatic questions of general interest were afterwards to be settled in the congress of the allied powers, fixed to take place at Vienna, where Talleyrand was appointed ambassador extraordinary to represent the King of France,—a mission he was certainly fully entitled to expect. In the month of November all the French legation arrived at Vienna, and the ambassador displayed great activity. It was necessary to place France in a favourable position, which was very difficult after all the wars and the disasters she had had to encounter; and we must do justice to the great abilities and exertions of Prince Talleyrand, for, in spite of the state of humiliation to which she was reduced, he succeeded in establishing her in the first rank; it was also owing to his intervention that the younger branch of the Bourbons was restored at Naples. Louis XVIII. was the means of saving Saxony from imminent danger, and finally, towards the close of the congress, Talleyrand entered into an intimate league with Metternich and Lord Castlereagh to prevent the encroachments of Russia in Poland, and concluded in the month of February[12] 1815 a secret treaty with England and Austria, where the possibility of war was looked forward to, and the necessary arrangements made for such a contingency. I have given the curious original elsewhere.[13]

During the whole time of the Congress of Vienna, the desire for an alliance with England and a feeling of antipathy for Russia never ceased to possess the mind of Prince Talleyrand; he followed up this system of regard and hatred with the utmost tenacity; he even went so far as to write, in his secret correspondence with Louis XVIII., "that a Russian princess did not come of a sufficiently good family for the Duc de Berri, and that it ought not to be thought of, as the house of Romanof could not place itself on a level with that of Bourbon." This circumstance was never forgotten by the Emperor Alexander, who from this time forward entertained an extreme dislike for Talleyrand, and his aversion became still more violent after the events of 1815, when the secret treaty concluded in the month of March came to his knowledge.

Napoleon landed in the Gulf of Juan, and his rapid march upon Paris excited the greatest alarm in the Congress of Vienna. The activity of the French ambassador redoubled its vehemence, for Napoleon had outlawed him in his decrees dated from Lyons, and he in his turn revenged himself by causing Buonaparte to be placed at the ban of the empire. He took great pains to obtain this result, the declaration of the Congress of Vienna was his work, and it was he that induced Lord Castlereagh and Metternich to sign it. From this moment the coalition was in motion, and France was again threatened with an irruption of myriads of armed men, when the battle of Waterloo a second time terminated the sway of Napoleon. When a power is at an end, all attempts to restore it are in vain, it is merely the flash that precedes the extinction of an expiring light.

Talleyrand returned to Paris with the Bourbons, but his authority was no longer what it had been. Louis XVIII. had discovered that his plenipotentiary, and the Duc de Dalberg, in his name, had received overtures concerning the possibility of the younger branch of the Bourbons succeeding to the throne of France, and it was not likely he should forget it. The king, with his habitual sagacity and experience, would never have chosen for his minister the man who had been plenipotentiary at Vienna; but the influence of the Duke of Wellington, which placed FouchÉ at the head of the police, also restored to Talleyrand the direction of foreign affairs. The cabinet of July 1815 was entirely favourable to English ideas and interests.

As long as Talleyrand had only to treat with Lord Castlereagh and the Prussians, he preserved his ascendancy; but how hard were the conditions imposed by those powers! The Duke of Wellington had a regard for him as the old representative of the English alliance, and supported him with all his influence, which was very great; however, in the month of August 1815, the face of every thing was changed; the Russians joined with 350,000 bayonets; the Emperor Alexander took a part in the negotiation, and as Russia alone was kindly disposed towards the house of Bourbon, as she alone defended the integrity of our territory, and did not exact the sacrifices required by England and Prussia, she soon became the predominant power. The first condition imposed by the Emperor Alexander, before he would enter into any negotiation, was the dismissal of Prince Talleyrand. He has since pretended that he voluntarily retired from office to avoid signing the Convention of Paris, that hard necessity to which France was compelled to submit through the heavy calamities which had fallen upon her, but this fact is as untrue as his opposition to the Spanish war in 1808. He has on every occasion striven to invest his dismissal with a degree of interest, but in this instance he had unavailingly had recourse to all his influence with the Duke of Wellington and Prussia to obtain the direction of a treaty, and he only retired because it was impossible for him to carry on a negotiation. He had submitted to every thing, he had made a thousand concessions to the czar, even going so far as to recommend Count Pozzo di Borgo as Minister for the Interior; it was all in vain, Alexander never would consent to see or to treat with him. Had Russia withdrawn her influence we should have lost Lorraine and Alsace, which had been claimed by the Germanic Confederation, but when the czar took the negotiations in hand, he stipulated for better conditions than those proposed by Prussia and England. Louis XVIII. took pleasure in relating the scene, at the close of which he asked for or accepted the resignation of the Bishop of Autun, and he described it with all the malicious wit he possessed in so admirable a degree. The king was quite delighted, for he did not at all enjoy the imperative and arbitrary style of proceeding adopted by his minister, who was more apt to request he would affix his signature to the papers he laid before him than inclined to consult him upon any political business; and besides, though the king was a little of a free-thinker, he could not quite forgive the utter disregard of the laws of the Church evinced by a married priest. This feeling was so strong at court, that the Cardinal de PÉrigord, grand almoner of France, never would recognise any dignity but that of bishop as belonging to his nephew. The Royalist party, now very powerful, lost no opportunity of turning him into ridicule, and clever caricatures always represented him with the crosier in his hand. They wanted to get rid of him as they had already contrived to do of FouchÉ, the former regicide orator. One day at a party in the Faubourg Saint-Germain Talleyrand said in a loud voice to some Royalists, "But, gentlemen, you want to bring back the old order of things, and that is not possible." The caustic and clever M. de Sallaberry replied, "Why, monseigneur, who would think of making you Bishop of Autun again? It would be an absurdity." The shaft was well aimed, and it struck home. In spite, however, of personal feelings, the king gave him the appointment of Grand Chamberlain of France, with a salary of 100,000 francs, at the suggestion of the Duc de Richelieu, who had declared in the royal council that, after all the services rendered by M. de Talleyrand, the Bourbons ought to present him with a noble mark of their gratitude. One would think that Louis himself, must have remembered that he owed the defence of his dynasty to him, at a time when the Restoration was regarded with coolness by all the cabinets of Europe.

Talleyrand continued to hold the situation of grand-chamberlain during the reign of the restored family. He was not a favourite at the Tuileries, where he went every day through etiquette to fulfil his office, standing behind the king's chair with admirable punctuality; and he was received with great coolness by Louis XVIII. Charles X. was more kindly disposed towards every body, and occasionally entered politely into conversation with him on some trifling subject. He also performed his duties at the diners d'apparat. The king was seated at table, the grand-chamberlain occupying a small chair at a little distance, and while Louis was discussing a pheasant, or other game, with an excellent appetite, Talleyrand dipped a biscuit in old madeira wine. It was a scene of considerable interest, and used to pass in the most profound silence. Every now and then the king would look fixedly at the grand-chamberlain with a sneering expression of countenance, while the latter, with his impassibility so coarsely defined by Marshal Lannes, would go on soaking his biscuit and slowly sipping his madeira with a look of respectful deference towards the king his master. Not a word was addressed by the sovereign to the chamberlain during the short repast, after which Talleyrand used to resume his place behind the king's chair in a cold, ceremonious manner, that reminded one of the statue in the Festin de Pierre, only with this difference, that the grand-chamberlain's mind was filled with the most inveterate hatred, a feeling which he extended to all the members of the royal family.

In the Chamber of Peers he adopted a system of opposition, which assumed a greater degree of solemnity, from all the statesmen of the various epochs who had been engaged in the management of affairs and vast negotiations being included in it. He very rarely spoke; indeed, I believe only two speeches delivered by him are on record. The first was on the occasion of the war in Spain in 1823, when he entered rather awkwardly into the question and foretold a disastrous event to our arms, whereas they were in reality crowned with success, shewing how great a mistake it is ever to give utterance to predictions in politics. The second time was on the occasion of the law of election and the liberty of the press; he then reminded the assembly of the promises entered into at Saint-Ouen, at which he had himself been present. He appeared at this time to be held in little estimation in the upper house, and there were not above five or six peers whose votes were at his disposal. The case was very different in his drawing-room and at his toilet, where he was in the habit of receiving a great deal of company and listened to confidential communications from men of all parties, flattering in turn the liberal societies and the aristocratic coteries; for the latter, especially, he entertained a strong predilection. His fortune was now very much involved in consequence of an immense bankruptcy, by which his friend the Duc de Dalberg alone lost the sum of 4,000,000[14] francs, and he passed but little part of his time at Paris, but lived at ValenÇay, or at his great estates in Touraine; these were deeply mortgaged, and without the management of the Duchess of Dino, who was a woman of wonderful ability in business, he would, probably, have been obliged to part with some of them. He occasionally made an excursion to a greater distance, and once passed a whole season in the south of France, in a pleasant habitation selected for him at HyÈres, in the country of fragrant flowers, of vanilla, and orange, and citron groves. His wit and noble manners are still recollected with delight in that part of the country; and, indeed, it is impossible to express the charm he infused into the evening conversations at his house.

His social existence was, in fact, passed entirely during the night. He rose late, and it was near eleven o'clock before he rang for his valet de chambre, who brought him his morning gown. He was obliged to lean upon his stick as he walked from one chair to another, until he reached the fireplace; and he breakfasted after the English fashion, making a very trifling repast. Then followed his toilet, which occupied a long time, and was almost public, according to the fashion of former times, when dressing the hair was a perfect operation. His servant put on his cravat, still worn with all the pretension of an exquisite of the Directory, and he then went out for an airing. After dinner, and to conclude the evening, he generally joined some of his old intimate friends, and played a rubber, very late and always very high. He sometimes dozed a little in an easy chair, for he possessed an admirable faculty for closing his eyes, and, perhaps, of indulging in a waking sleep. His conversation was generally brilliant and clever, sometimes very communicative, and he took great pleasure in talking over the events of his life, dwelling with especial delight upon the Congress of Vienna, which had been such a brilliant period for his diplomatic talents. Thus passed his life, full of a feeling of discontent and a constant looking forward to change; nothing was hurried, but he was constantly in a state of expectation, or carrying on one of those vast conspiracies which no one can lay hold of.

At the time of the breaking out of the revolution of July, Talleyrand was deeply irritated against the elder branch of the Bourbons, whom he termed ungrateful and forgetful of his services; and there is no doubt of his having worked industriously towards establishing a new monarchical system. He had a horror of anarchy, power was his element. The time is not yet come when we may venture to tell every thing, but it is an undoubted fact, that Talleyrand was consulted and examined on the 9th of August, and his answer was altogether favourable to the new project. Did not this revolution carry him back in recollection to the period of the Congress of Vienna in 1814, when an arrangement of this kind had been suggested by him as a possible event and a means of solving a difficulty should such occur? Some secret conferences were held on this delicate subject; Talleyrand took upon himself the negotiation with the corps diplomatique, and also the duty of setting clearly before them that the peace of Europe depended upon the establishment of a monarchy in France,—a vast undertaking, to which a prince of very superior abilities was willing to devote himself. Talleyrand succeeded in the object he had in view; the despatches of the ambassadors were all in favour of royalty, it was considered as a guarantee of the principle of order in Europe, as an efficacious means of repressing the revolutionary spirit, and maintaining the treaties already concluded—in short, as the strongest opposition to the Propaganda tendency, and the most serious scheme of general conservatism.

Talleyrand at this time refused the ministry for foreign affairs, as it would merely have added to his responsibility without increasing his power of action; but he accepted the embassy to London, which was a much more important office, as affairs of the greatest consequence would necessarily come under consideration there, it being upon the prompt decision of this cabinet that must mainly depend the consolidation of the new order of things; for, although England had been the first to recognise the events that had taken place, she had shewn some disposition to reserve regarding an alliance with the new government. The affairs of Belgium occasioned so much difficulty in the negotiations, and added so greatly to the danger of the political crisis, that it was necessary a person possessed both of talent and great consideration should be deputed to London, to secure the support of the English cabinet in the negotiations that had been begun, especially as the despatches received from Russia rendered the necessity for a good understanding with England particularly urgent.

When Talleyrand arrived in London, the Duke of Wellington was still in the ministry, and the violent Tories had the direction of the cabinet,—a state of affairs which prevented his carrying on his manoeuvres as he wished; he was perfectly aware of the attachment of the Tories to the secret treaties concluded in 1815, and, therefore, used all his efforts to overturn the Duke of Wellington. He also renewed his old intimacy with Lord Grey, he sought the society of Lord John Russell, and lived in a most magnificent style.

The revolution of July had produced an effect in England; the march of opinion became too powerful for the Tories, and Lord Grey was placed at the head of the cabinet, affording a complete triumph to the moderate Whigs. The course being now clear, Talleyrand could assume the position he wished: and hard had he laboured to prepare it! He now was able to work openly for a treaty with France.

It ought to be known that, during the embassy of Prince Polignac, a conference had been arranged in London between the plenipotentiaries of Russia, England, and France, to decide upon all the questions relating to Greece; and the same course had been pursued afterwards, under the Duc de Laval. England attached great importance to it, and Talleyrand proposed its renewal, for the purpose of watching and deciding upon the general affairs of Europe, and also advised that the plenipotentiaries of Austria and Prussia should be admitted. They were to take the Belgic question into consideration, and decide what course should be pursued, in consequence of the dismemberment of the kingdom of the Low Countries, established in 1815; and Talleyrand being personally acquainted with all these plenipotentiaries, his position soon became as brilliant in London as it had been at Vienna in 1815. He was connected with Prince and Princess Lieven by the ties of old and intimate friendship, and the families of Talleyrand and Esterhazy had also long been well acquainted: Baron Bulow, the Prussian minister, was one of the second-rate diplomatists, who all entertained the greatest respect for Talleyrand and his long experience in public affairs.

Conferences were, therefore, undertaken upon very indefinite subjects, for their principal object was to seek the opportunity of meeting and maintaining peace. No doubt there was something very undecided in the numerous protocols signed at that time upon the affairs of Belgium, and the greater part of them were never put in force. In addition to this, though they had been the result of a common agreement, the Russian and Austrian plenipotentiaries never received the formal assent of their governments: the conduct of Prince Lieven and Prince Esterhazy was, in the first instance, disclaimed on the part of their courts, and they were shortly afterwards recalled; but the result of these conferences in London, the happy consequences of their developement, was the maintenance of peace, whose existence had at one time been greatly threatened. In 1831, when the foreign ministers met in such close communication with each other, it was almost impossible explanations should not take place, and that there should be any misapprehension between the governments; the proceedings of Talleyrand were, therefore, successful; for his main object was the preservation of the European status quo, by preventing those conflicts among the cabinets, those clashings among people, which fill history with tales of bloodshed; and the conferences in London were of service, because the close contact into which men were brought with each other was a means of reconciling affairs.

According to his general custom, the French ambassador received a great deal of company; his entertainments were splendid; his evening parties, in particular, were remarkable for the good taste and distinguished company so much prized in England. I should not exceed the truth if I were to say that his wishes influenced certain votes in the House of Commons. No ambassador had ever before enjoyed so much consideration. But Lord Grey was aware of an approaching storm: the difficulty of his political situation had not consisted in overturning the Tory ministry—that was a simple and natural victory, for the agitation of minds and events had been sufficient to displace the Duke of Wellington, but the really dangerous part of Lord Grey's position was, on the contrary, the inevitable and powerful progress of the Whig principles, which sought to proceed to extremities; for when a nation lays its hand upon its ancient institutions, one change often leads to another. After having reformed the state, and given a greater latitude to elections, must they not reform the Church? did not the situation of Ireland require modification? The Dissenters complained, and with justice, of their grievances; it would have been an absurd attempt to set a limit to a reformed parliament, to say to the nation "Thus far shalt thou go, and no farther." The parliament became impatient, while religious scruples arose in the mind of Lord Grey, in the old party of which Canning was formerly the head, now represented by Mr. Stanley, and, above all, in the heart of William the Fourth.

Talleyrand was as well aware of the danger as Lord Grey himself, for he well knew the powerful influence exercised by young and ardent opinions; it soon became impossible to arrest the parliamentary agitation. The venerable Lord Grey was suddenly seized with disgust for the whole proceeding; he would not raise a sacrilegious hand against the Church; he sent in his resignation, and England well remembers the touching explanations he gave upon his own ministerial conduct in the House of Lords. From the time of the appointment of Lord Melbourne, the French ambassador foresaw the invincible tendency of affairs, the triumph of the Ultra-Whigs, and, perhaps, of Lord Durham,[15] and began to think of retiring, for he no longer played the principal part, of which he was always ambitious.

Another circumstance added to this feeling. In the revolution just encountered by the ministry, Lord Palmerston had still retained the Foreign Office, his opinions being of a less moderate cast than those of Lord Grey; and as his disposition was one rather difficult to deal with, serious dissensions had already arisen between him and Talleyrand. From the first formation of their ministry, the Whigs had felt the necessity of augmenting their consideration with foreign powers; they were not ignorant that the English nation, which preferred them for their popular opinions and their patriotic sentiments, did not feel equal confidence in their habits of business and their comprehension of the situation of Europe. Lord Palmerston considered that, after the treaty of the 8th of July, which secured such great advantages to Russia, a certain armed demonstration was inevitable upon the Eastern question, and he, therefore, proposed to Talleyrand that the squadrons of France and England should be united, and sail under the flags of both nations in the Black Sea.

Talleyrand perfectly understood the interest felt by the Whigs in this armed demonstration, but he considered it far too bold a step to be ventured upon in their actual situation. As a continental power, France might well call upon the alliance of England if necessary, or, on the other hand, afford to her all possible assistance; but then the whole of the Holy Alliance was close upon her, and this demonstration might lead to a real war. In the opinion of Talleyrand it was necessary to fortify the moral alliance, and place a barrier to resist the encroachments of Russia; but it would be a hazardous undertaking to make a direct attack on her flag in the Black Sea. He, therefore, held back from the propositions of Lord Palmerston: he explained to him that, instead of an armed demonstration, which would be of doubtful advantage, nay, possibly altogether useless, it would be desirable to prepare an act, expressive of future policy; and made it evident to him that a treaty of quadruple alliance, which would unite the south of Europe against the north, could not fail to lead to great results, even in the midst of the various but transient events of a party war. The treaty concluded between France, England, Spain, and Portugal, owed its existence to this idea, this favourite conception of Prince Talleyrand; he would, however, have been much better pleased could he have also included Austria, according to the desire he had cherished in his mind ever since 1814.

Lord Palmerston entered into Talleyrand's plans. England confined herself to a few nautical parades in the Black Sea, but from this time a coldness sprung up between the two diplomatists. The English minister is a person of very irritable temper, touchy, and of a changeable disposition, and Talleyrand took a great dislike to him; and as, on the other side, the cabinet of which Lord Melbourne was the chief was drawn on from one concession to another, he soon resolved to leave England. It was announced that his health was failing, and he went into the country to seek peace in retirement. Like Pythagoras when the thunder is heard from afar, Talleyrand preferred the desert and the echo. During his last journey to Paris he became friends with Count Pozzo di Borgo, that is to say, with the Russian idea. The two diplomatists did not venture as yet to hold any official communications, but they often met in little mysterious banquets, in a diplomatic retreat at Bellevue.

Talleyrand quitted London, popular clamour was a source of annoyance to him; it was no longer a dispute between one portion of the aristocracy and another, from henceforth it appeared to be the people against the aristocracy itself: and the stake was too great. He therefore left England definitively for ValenÇay, explaining, in a most dignified letter, the reason of his retirement. There is a period with politicians when they begin to live for posterity; they then all seek an opportunity of explaining themselves, of laying open their conduct, and striving to rectify the judgment of future times—they feel a desire of revealing themselves solemnly to the public; and such was the motive which induced Talleyrand to speak at a meeting of the French Institute. He said but a few words on the occasion of an Éloge that had been pronounced, but those few afforded an explanation of the motives that had actuated a long and busy political life, passed in the midst of governments, passions, and parties.

After this time Talleyrand lived either in Paris or on his estates in the country, and was always consulted with the most profound veneration by all the thinking heads of government. He at one time had some idea of going to Vienna to accomplish a plan suggested by the Duchess de Dino, which would unite the two families of Talleyrand and Esterhazy. The latter, it is well known, is the richest family in Austria, and during the last seven years Madame de Dino had paid great attention to her uncle's affairs, and had been so successful in her management that his property was quite free from debt, and one of the most considerable of the present day. The fortune of M. de Talleyrand, after so many reverses, is said almost to resemble one of the fairy tales in the "Arabian Nights."

There are few political characters with whom the press has been more busy than with Prince Talleyrand, during the latter years of his life. Every step he took, every gesture, every action, was made the subject of the most contradictory reports. He had now attained his eighty-fourth year, and it was evident his faculties were beginning to suffer considerably from his advanced age. He was merely the shadow of his former self. Every now and then there would be a gleam of his powerful intellect, but they would soon disappear again in the weakness caused by extreme age, and so busy and exhausted a life. He could no longer walk a single step, but was carried about or wheeled in a chair, and the slightest jolt drew from him tears of suffering—most miserable resemblance that exists between decrepitude and childhood! In fact, his career was come to an end, though they in vain strove to prolong it by endeavouring to rouse him.

That career had indeed been marvellous, and though Prince Talleyrand be reproached with the constant changeableness of his opinions, we may observe the same principle predominant under all circumstances—the alliance with England. I have selected the Duc de Richelieu as the type of the Russian alliance, and in comparing the services of these two political characters, we shall easily discover that the duke did more service to his country during the short time that he held the reins of government than Prince Talleyrand in his lengthened career, because Richelieu had adopted a more national plan, one more favourable to our foreign interests. Talleyrand never was subservient to any particular government or doctrine. He had a sort of personal feeling which degenerated into selfishness. He did not betray Napoleon in the literal sense of the word, he only quitted him in time; neither did he actually betray the Restoration, he abandoned it when it was abandoning itself. No doubt there is a good deal of selfishness in this system, whose first thought is of its own situation and fortune, and afterwards of the government it serves; but, perhaps, it is hardly to be expected we should find in men of very great talent the degree of self-denial which leads to a blind devotion towards a person or a cause. Talleyrand was a little inclined to apply to himself the expressions he was accustomed to address to his employÉs when he was minister for foreign affairs: "There are two things, gentlemen, which I forbid in the most positive manner,—too much zeal and too absolute devotion, because they compromise both persons and affairs." Such was the mind of Talleyrand; with a cold heart and barren imagination, he was compared to a real tactician, judging men and parties with mathematical precision. He reserved all his activity for the decisive moments which overturned thrones and governments, when he considered prompt action as of importance. In revolutions his experience had been very great; he immediately understood the value of a situation, and decided upon it by an apophthegm, which at once struck home. His was, perhaps, the mind which was most capable of foreseeing, least able to prevent, and most skilled in deriving advantage from the different phases of empires.

But now his life was drawing to a close, and symptoms of approaching death appeared on every side. For a long time he had been afflicted with a painful complaint, which he bore with less resignation than he had exhibited under political events; the attacks were very violent, and the prince became subject to constant fainting fits—warning symptoms of the approach of his last enemy. The total decay of Talleyrand was apparent to every body; the sharpness and delicacy of his wit every now and then shot forth a dying gleam, but the man was at an end. His visits to the Tuileries were a most melancholy spectacle, a sad memorial of the nothingness of human greatness. Alas! that vast intellect was fast sinking into second childhood. His complaint was incurable; it was in the first place old age, and then, also, an old affection of anthrax, or white gangrene, for which he was obliged to undergo a very painful operation, and after it was performed the agonies of death followed in rapid succession. He was perfectly aware of the danger of his situation, and considered it a point of dignity not to appear alarmed, but went through all the proper etiquette with death. For a considerable time he had been in communication with a pious ecclesiastic in Paris; before him was the example of his family, and the recollection of his uncle the Cardinal, of blessed memory; and of late years his benefactions to the chapel of ValenÇay had been very great, both in magnificent donations and pious endowments. Though he had forgotten his religious obligations, he had never made an open profession of impiety, and had preserved a considerable degree of loftiness of mind, so that when the thought of death was presented to him he did not shrink from a retractation. No person was better aware of the weakness and puerile vanity of professed free-thinkers.

This retractation was not the offspring of a sudden impulse; on the contrary, it had been concerted three months before with infinite care, as if it had been a diplomatic paper sent to the church. Full of submission, yet with a mixture of dignity, the prince addressed it to the sovereign pontiff, repenting all his participation in the scandals by which his life had been stained, particularly his adhesion to the civil constitution of the clergy; and he now acknowledged the jurisdiction of the Archbishop of Paris, and submitted to the Catholic laws of the holy see. This was the manner in which he prepared for death. Accounts of the state of his health were incessantly despatched to Neuilly; he had rendered great services to Louis Philippe, who had often consulted him and derived the benefit of his experience, and who was now resolved to pay a last visit to the last descendant of the PÉrigords. When the king was announced, the prince said with a feeble voice, but without any appearance of emotion, as if the attention were due to him,—"It is the greatest honour my house has received."

There was a strong aristocratic feeling in the expression, 'My house;' it signified that, though the visit was honourable to his family, there was nothing to cause surprise in it. Neither did he forget, even at that moment, the etiquette which forbids that any body should stand in the presence of a sovereign without being presented, and he immediately added, in a calm tone, "I have a duty to fulfil—it is to present to your majesty the persons who are in the room, and who have not yet had that honour;" and he introduced his physician, his surgeon, and his valet-de-chambre. This behaviour when at the point of death bore the stamp of high aristocratic manners, perfectly in keeping with the visit with which his last moments had been honoured; it was part of the decorum and ancient ceremony observed between noble families; the escutcheons of both bore the same relative rank; the youngest branch of the Bourbons went to visit the youngest branch of the PÉrigords. In ancient times the houses of Navarre and De Quercy had met together on the common field of battle, and the cry Re que Diou had been uttered at the same time with the war-cry of Henry IV., by the old southern nobility, the language of Oc being common to both.

People expressed surprise at the signal honour conferred upon Talleyrand, but it shewed that the customs of gentle blood were not comprehended by the spirit of inferior society. No one was more attached to his illustrious descent than the old diplomatist, and the younger branch of the Bourbons came itself of too good a stock to forget it; the two cadets of De Quercy and Navarre had met in the recollection of their race, as in their political life.

Surrounded by his family in his last moments, and assisted by the pious offices of the AbbÉ Dupanloup, vicar-general of the diocese of Paris, Prince Talleyrand received the sacraments of the Church, for he had been again admitted into her bosom, and, before expiring, he again uttered one of those happy expressions which were so often upon his lips. Observing one of his grandnieces dressed entirely in white, according to the custom observed before the first communion, he raised his heavy eyelids, kissed her forehead, gave her his blessing, and then turning to the spectators, he said, "See the way of the world—there is the beginning, here the end!" In a few minutes afterwards he expired, on the 18th of May, 1838, at ten minutes before four o'clock in the afternoon, having just completed his eighty-fourth year. He left a will, by which his immense fortune was well and wisely disposed of. Has he also left memoirs? I think I know; but these memoirs are deposited in the hands of his family, or of other people of whose discretion he was quite secure.

Well, then, must I confess it? I do not believe them to be in any way curious. People talk a great deal about these pretended revelations, but I still repeat that they are few in number. Talleyrand only wrote what he pleased, he only committed public transactions to paper; and it is well known that, in reading these memoirs, he used to dwell with pleasure on the mischievous pranks of the young abbÉ. Was it the reminiscence of his youth that he enjoyed? I am inclined to think so, for I have always observed that this feeling is very strong among statesmen. Would you wish to awaken in the mind of Pozzo di Borgo all the vigour of his intellectual powers?—speak to him of Corsica and Paoli; would you bring a ray of delight and unreserve to unbend the brow of Metternich?—talk to him of his embassy to Paris in the beginning of the Empire, those days of pleasure and dissipation.

My idea is, that the memoirs of the man who played so conspicuous a part in the political history of the world will consist principally of two parts—emotions and justifications: emotions, because people always remember them, they filter through the whole tenour of their lives, they dwell in the brain of man, and rule over his thoughts; and justifications will undoubtedly be required for the several fatal deeds committed during the life of Prince Talleyrand.

In the course of that long life too much regard was shewn to customs and ceremonies, which are merely the trappings of life, and too little to duty and conscience, which are its foundation and object. He attended too much to the outward matters of existence—to riches, to honour, to decency of behaviour, but he thought nothing of the delicacy of mind, which is the strongest pledge of an honest man employed in public affairs. I am not fonder of simpletons in politics than other people, but, for the honour of mankind, I am willing to believe men may be clever and still retain perfect probity and good faith. It would be too dreadful to suppose that one cannot be a statesman without a complete abdication of the government of one's heart. Surely a strong head and powerful abilities are not the sole requisites for regulating the affairs of a government.