Part 9

Above all, he made the ambassador clearly understand that he was to listen to no proposal which would tend to deprive Frederick of Silesia, well knowing that with that object only had the Empress been induced to treat at all.[356] In fact, Vaulgrenant could not possibly mistake the tone which the minister desired him to assume.

In this enterprise d'Argenson found a powerful ally in the man whom, in the beginning of the year, he had endeavoured vainly to assist. Frederick had achieved one of his master-strokes. Upon hearing of the Convention of Hanover, Maria Theresa had formed a daring design. She resolved to ignore the approach of winter, and to concentrate her troops in Saxon territory for a direct descent upon Brandenburg. The plan was concerted secretly with Augustus, and the Saxon army would act with the Austrians.[357] At the close of the regular campaign Frederick had returned to Berlin. His sword had clicked again in the scabbard, his hand had fallen nerveless from the hilt, when suddenly a stray word let fall at a dinner-table by Count Brühl was conveyed carefully to Berlin; tensely the fingers closed upon the hilt, the sword leapt forth again bare and terrible, and at the end of a three-weeks' campaign, which we cannot even read of now without dancing eyes and tingling blood, the lion of Brandenburg entered Dresden.

It was through streets strewn with the red work that the Austrian envoy, on the verge of desperation, made his way to the house of Vaulgrenant,[358] whom he found but moderately willing to listen to proposals in doubtful favour with the ministry at home, and to the prejudice of the man who might sleep that night in the capital of his fallen enemy. The conference was without result; it was never resumed.[359] Through the combined efforts of d'Argenson and Frederick the whole negotiation had come to nothing; and Maria Theresa had no alternative but to sign with Frederick the Treaty of Dresden. By this treaty the Convention of Hanover was confirmed. Frederick was free to withdraw from the war, and he was again recognised as sovereign of Silesia.

This was the last great blow which French policy sustained during the year 1745. Frederick had broken finally with France. Months before, when the position had first been suggested by the news of the Treaty of Hanover, d'Argenson had conceived his policy in regard to it. He knew better than any man the real causes of Frederick's defection; and deplore it as he might, he saw no reason for enlisting Prussia among the enemies of France. He had expressed his thought in a letter to Belleisle:--[360]

"We must leave him alone; he will remain neutral; he will deceive the Queen of Hungary as he deceives everybody else; he will continue to cause her uneasiness until the general peace, and it is his interest to do so; he will oblige her always to keep an army in the neighbourhood of Silesia.... We can retain his alliance by interest, or at least by a certain understanding which prevents him hurting us, and which will be useful to us in many ways." "In fact, as he told the Prussian ambassador as soon as the Treaty of Dresden was known, he regarded Prussia as henceforth the political centre of French interests in the Empire and in the north."[361]

So concludes this study of the position really occupied by d'Argenson with regard to the political events of 1745. It is not without reason that it has been dwelt upon at length; for the period embraced seems immeasurably the more important of d'Argenson's ministry. The principal events of the following year are really no more than episodes, loose, and comparatively of little weight. In 1745 however, we have a long and connected series of incidents, affording an extended view of the rival policies; and furthermore, we are brought directly into contact with the great political question of the day, the question suggested by the growing change in the relations of the German powers.

Moreover, it is upon his action during this period that the severity of criticism in regard to d'Argenson's ministry is mainly based. To accept that criticism as conclusive, it would have been necessary to obliterate every impression suggested by his life before and after. There was no alternative but to examine it; and if we have sometimes been compelled to challenge the positions of MM. de Broglie and Zevort, it is with a diffidence due to authorities so distinguished. Yet no diffidence need disguise the result. So far as d'Argenson personally is concerned, each historian supplies the material for questioning the conclusions of the other: and at the same time for conceiving a third, in harmony with d'Argenson's known character and opinions. So far as we can see, neither writer has examined these events with reference to any general scheme of policy in d'Argenson's own mind; the forms that happened to be impressed upon that policy by the accidents or circumstances of the moment appear to have been mistaken for the policy itself--a process which, for a man in d'Argenson's position, would efface the distinction between statesmanship and imbecility. Moreover, he has frequently been held responsible for events over which he had no control whatever; and in M. de Broglie's case, failure to appreciate or sympathise with him is aggravated by personal opposition to his measures; and about the whole account of his ministry, equable as it is, there are unwelcome suggestions of Marshal de Noailles.

It is unpleasant to seem to speak so lightly of those to whom one owes so much; and it is no further necessary. The conclusion remains that during this period d'Argenson had a clear and statesmanlike policy; that thwarted and crossed at every turn, he did what little he could to realise it; that he was forced by the defection of his own government into a false and even ridiculous position; and that, in the circumstances, he acquitted himself as worthily as any man could be expected to do.

In the following year, 1746,[362] the course of French foreign politics is fortunately plain and simple. D'Argenson's position is clearly marked, and it has been treated with what appears to be substantial justice.[363]

The year presents three striking episodes. It opens with a strange attempt and a still stranger failure, it is distinguished by at least one marked success, and it closes with a curious comedy of intrigue of which the _dénouement_ was d'Argenson's disgrace.

It was not the chance or the exigency of the moment that led to the famous Negotiation of Turin. We can scarcely say how long d'Argenson had dreamed of the liberation of Italy;[364] but for years past he had clung to the idea with something of the fervour of a religious faith. It was the one indulgence in the luxuries of idealism of which he refused to deprive himself. The hope was an inspiring one, and not a year had elapsed since his accession to the ministry, when he began his famous attempt to realise it.

The key to the position was held by the King of Sardinia. Sardinia, in alliance with Austria and in the pay of England, was the great barrier against the Bourbon advance in Italy. To seduce Charles Emmanuel from the cause of Maria Theresa would have been to cripple the Austrian power in Italy; to induce him to turn his arms against his late ally would have ensured her expulsion from the peninsula. There was only one danger to be feared. In Spain, with the Italian branches of the Spanish Bourbons, the House of Savoy had a deadly enemy; and d'Argenson had predicted years before[365] that the whole project might be ruined by the resistance of the Court of Madrid. He was only reassured by the reflection that in her foreign relations, Spain was ultimately dependent upon France, and that a French minister of firmness and courage would be able to bend her to his will.

In September, 1745, d'Argenson approached the Sardinian Government with certain remarkable proposals. He suggested a territorial re-arrangement of Northern Italy, the expulsion of the Austrians from the peninsula by the combined forces of France, Spain, and Sardinia, and the constitution of the various states as an Italian confederation. These overtures were coldly received, the Piedmontese minister representing that their practical effect would be to draw down upon Sardinia the vengeance of Austria and of the whole Empire. The defeat of Bassignano, the progress of the Bourbon arms, and the danger which menaced the city of Alessandria, modified the dispositions of Turin. The negotiations were resumed; and proceeded so far that on the 26th of December the partition of territory designed by d'Argenson was accepted by the Sardinian Government, though the idea of an Italian Confederation was still repulsed. On the return of Champeaux,[366] the French agent, from Turin, arrangements were rapidly made for the conclusion of the treaty; and on the 20th of January, Champeaux again set out from Paris as minister plenipotentiary, charged to obtain a final settlement within two days. Coincidently the Spanish Government was apprised of the negotiation, and its adhesion was required within the same time. Meanwhile, at the instance of Montgardin, the Sardinian envoy, d'Argenson wrote to Marshal de Maillebois, in command of the French army in Italy, acquainting him with the situation, and warning him to remain upon the defensive until the conclusion of the treaty.

While the preliminaries were being signed at Turin, the reverses of Prince Charles Edward freed the English Government from a pressing embarrassment; and on the very day (December 26th), the conclusion of the Treaty of Dresden enabled Maria Theresa to detach thirty thousand men for the army of Italy. The Sardinian ministers began to repent of the haste with which they had listened to the French overtures; they saw that they had embarked upon a desperate venture, in which it would be folly to persist; and henceforth their only care was to obtain an armistice which might enable them to relieve Alessandria and to improve their military position. Finding that in the proposals upon which Champeaux was demanding a final answer, the preliminaries of the 26th of December had been extended, they refused to accept the extension, and they demanded that in case the Spanish Government failed to accede to the treaty, the menace with which Louis XV. had tried to influence it should be made a definite stipulation, and the French troops withdrawn from Italy at the end of two months.

The news of the proposed treaty was received at Madrid with passionate outcries. So far from consenting within forty-eight hours, Philip V. addressed to his nephew an indignant letter of remonstrance; and a special ambassador was despatched to Paris with orders to check the progress of the negotiation. At first the treaty had been kept an absolute secret between d'Argenson and the King; but it was now a subject of popular rumour, and it became necessary to communicate it to the Council.

A storm of opposition was at once let loose, and feeling the King's resolution wavering, d'Argenson resolved upon a decisive step. On the 17th of February, relying upon the good faith of the Court of Turin, he signed the armistice between France and Sardinia.

Meanwhile the Sardinian plans were complete. The great Austrian reinforcement was approaching Mantua; the Piedmontese army was ready to march, while Maillebois, trusting to his instructions, remained inactive, and without a suspicion of the event which was preparing. He was soon undeceived. His son, who was in charge of the armistice, received a letter warning him not to approach Turin unless he was prepared to make the concessions demanded by the King of Sardinia, to raise the siege of Alessandria, and to declare the armistice immediately. This Maillebois was unable to do; he was supplied with passports, and informed that on the following morning (March 5th) the Piedmontese army would be put in motion. A few days afterwards eleven French battalions were surprised at Asti, and their surrender opened to the Sardinian troops the road to Alessandria.

Exactly two days before, the prolonged resistance of the Spanish Court yielded to the determination of d'Argenson; and Philip V. and Elisabeth Farnese accepted the Treaty of Turin. They were soon to hear that the plan they had striven so obstinately to frustrate had been destroyed by the perfidy of Sardinia itself.

The news of the fall of Asti created consternation at Paris; and a host of d'Argenson's enemies, headed by Noailles and Maurepas, were only too eager to fasten the blame upon the Foreign Minister. The King was carried away by the tide of reaction; and after the fashion of weak men, he rushed to the opposite extreme. Everything was done to propitiate Spain. Noailles was charged with a special mission to the Spanish Court, where he used his opportunities to decry the Minister; and most fatal step of all, the commander in Italy, Maillebois, was instructed, for the rest of the campaign, to yield the initiative to the Spanish generals. The two armies were divided by jealousies and suspicions; the Austro-Sardinians pushed their advantage; and by the end of the year the French were driven to the borders of Provence and the Austrians entered Genoa.

Such was the famous fiasco of Turin. The project was doomed from the beginning. The whole history of diplomacy could afford no more intricate play of cross-purposes. Not one of the parties to the negotiation understood the position of the rest; and it was only by a masterly comprehension of its own that the Sardinian Government escaped with success. Upon the conditions of the attempt and the causes of its failure it is unnecessary further to enlarge. For the present purposes it is principally important as perhaps the one event in the whole course of d'Argenson's ministry for which his responsibility is clear and decided; and it is the one event which plainly reveals his greatness and weakness as a practical statesman, and displays the very qualities and defects a previous knowledge of him might have led us to expect. That matter may be dealt with more conveniently when our impressions of his ministry have to be reviewed.

It was one of d'Argenson's political convictions that French influence in Germany was to be best established by refraining from provocation of the German powers. Throughout the winter of 1745 he was engaged in a series of tedious negotiations with the various Electoral Courts, designed to secure the neutrality of the Empire. His plans were successful; and he was able, with the co-operation of Frederick and of Maurice de Saxe, to banish the war entirely from Germany, and to confine it to Italy and Flanders. The conduct of these measures has secured the commendation of his most critical historian.

There remains to be considered a curious series of events, which serves to illustrate the peculiar relations subsisting in the French Government, and the embarrassments by which statesmanship was beset.

In July, 1746, Philip V. of Spain died; and the event was followed immediately afterwards by the death of his daughter, the Dauphine of France. The new king, Ferdinand, was strongly desirous that the young French prince should espouse the sister of the late Dauphine; and the proposal was supported by a powerful party at the French Court, at the head of which were Noailles and Maurepas. The project was distasteful to Louis XV., and it was rejected, ostensibly upon religious grounds. It is suggested that d'Argenson's qualms were occasioned, not by an access of unwonted scrupulosity, but by the hope of repairing the disaster of Turin by the betrothal of the Dauphin to a daughter of the King of Sardinia.[367] Louis was favourable to the scheme, and negotiations were actively begun; but the determination of Sardinia to press her advantage in Italy led to their suspension.

It was then resolved to demand in marriage the daughter of Augustus III. of Saxony. The enterprise proceeded with singular rapidity, and d'Argenson is proud to record it as the most striking of his diplomatic successes. Yet on the very day on which the marriage was celebrated at Dresden, the apparent author of it was disgraced.

The reason is as remarkable as the fact itself. Throughout the negotiation there were two policies at work, one of which was entirely unknown to the French minister. D'Argenson had conceived certain bold and statesmanlike views with regard to the position of Saxony. He hoped to bring about an understanding between Saxony and Prussia, and by the combined influence of France and Prussia, to make the crown of Poland hereditary in the Saxon house. By so doing it might be possible to withdraw Augustus III. from his blind dependence upon Vienna and St. Petersburg. The first step in the realisation of this plan must be the ruin of the Saxon minister, Count Brühl, a sworn partisan of Austria. The other policy was that of Count Brühl himself. He proposed to take advantage of the French overtures in order to bring about an understanding between France and Austria, and so to use their combined forces for the destruction of the rising power of Prussia. The first step in furtherance of the scheme must be the ruin of the Marquis d'Argenson, a firm ally of Prussia.

In fact, the negotiation of Dresden resolved itself into a personal duel between Count Brühl and d'Argenson. It ended, as we know, in the triumph of the former, through the intervention of his great compatriot, Maurice de Saxe.[368] The victor of Raucoux had recognised a strong personal interest in the proposal to make his niece Dauphine of France; and unknown to d'Argenson, he had exerted his powerful influence in favour of it both at Versailles and Dresden. Having nothing further to gain from the war, he was easily persuaded to second Brühl's scheme for the mediation of Saxony; and being given to understand by the Saxon minister that the real obstacle in the way of an arrangement was the "faux système"[369] pursued by the d'Argensons, he resolved to do his best to compass their fall. On the 10th of December he wrote to Brühl:

"People here are beginning to suspect that the d'Argensons have no sincere desire for peace. There is a shell planted; and if we apply the fuse, they will be blown into the air.... I have sounded the Marquis with regard to that question you spoke of last. He is unwilling to listen to any proposals on behalf of the Court of Vienna, and talks upon that matter in a very strange fashion."[370]

Maurice proceeded to apply the fuse. He won over Madame de Pompadour, between whom and the Foreign Minister there was no love lost;[371] and he engaged his friend and d'Argenson's enemy, Noailles, to use his influence with the King. Accordingly on the 15th of December Noailles submitted to Louis XV. a famous memoir,[372] in which d'Argenson's ministry is elaborately represented as one long disaster: his portrait being drawn with a bitterness of party spirit and personal animosity but thinly disguised by an affectation of disinterestedness. D'Argenson was by no means unaware of the intrigues against him; but he would not stoop to defend himself. He thought that his position had been strengthened by the successful negotiation of the Saxon marriage, of which he imagined he had the sole honour; and he believed himself secure in the confidence of the King. The latter, who seems to have regarded d'Argenson with unusual esteem, succumbed to the importunities of the Favourite, the Courts of Saxony and Spain, the all-powerful Maurice de Saxe, the Council of ministers, and every one whom d'Argenson, to relieve his soul or to protect the public, had found it necessary to offend; and on the very day on which what seemed to be a brilliant diplomatic stroke was consummated at Dresden, the man who imagined himself the author of it was dismissed.

The immediate cause of his fall was his obstinate refusal to traffic with Austria, or to sacrifice what generations of experience had taught him to regard as the interest of France to the fortuitous prepossessions of a foreign adventurer.[373]

We can form no just estimate of d'Argenson's capacity as a statesman without some clear ideas of his position as a minister. He had entered office burdened with two disabilities, the cause of which it has been the most important of duties to lay bare. He had no aptitude for court intrigue; he had no power of confronting opposition and sternly frowning it down. Unable to win, he neglected the courtiers; unable to coerce his enemies in the Ministry, he was only too happy to avoid them. He was forced to rely upon the value of his services, and upon the esteem and confidence of the King. That he managed to secure that confidence, and to preserve it even at the moment of his fall, there is ample evidence to show. Relying upon the royal support, he did not hesitate to enforce those principles of policy which research and reflection had led him to embrace. He determined, so far as possible, to make his will felt; and the incapacity with which he was charged by Noailles and the anti-Prussian party in the Council was really incapacity to accept proposals at variance with every statesmanlike tradition. Without regard for the consequences to himself, he acted for what he thought to be the public interest--a process which no French statesman could then pursue without offending innumerable susceptibilities, and uniting every one, from the reigning favourite to the most insignificant chargé d'affaires, in a league of enmity against him. They all combined to convict him of incapacity and indiscretion; he passed among the courtiers as "Dunce d'Argenson";[374] and his eccentricities of manner gave occasion to caricatures which were carefully gathered up by that consummate chronicler of the unimportant, the Duc de Luynes. The persecution was too bitter to be inspired merely by contempt; and we have only to read the letters of Noailles and Saxe to know that they were directed, not to the dismissal of an incapable minister, but to the removal of a statesman who barred their path.[375]