1816: the Grandest Tour

France: Chapter 10

Charles-Maurice de Talleyrand-Périgord, former Bishop of Autun, former Prince-Imperial of Benevento, gave them a short and businesslike bow.

"I think it has been some years since we've met, my good Doctor," said Talleyrand with a thinly clipped accent.

The young men turned to their bear-leader in astonishment. Was there anyone in Paris Boxborough did not know??

"I lament the lapse of time indeed, Monsieur," said the doctor, "But I'm pleased to see you still at the center of events."

"Ah! Not so much at this moment," said the old statesman with a rueful smile. "Have you not heard? His majesty has replaced my ministry with that of monsieur Richelieu. I am merely gathering my last personal effects before I retire to Valançay for the summer."

Dr. Boxborough expressed his polite regret to see Talleyrand out of office. This was, after all, the man who had been the indispensable diplomat, and rare survivor, from the days of the Revolution through the Jacobin "Terror," the Directory, Consulate, Empire, Restoration, and Congress of Vienna. George's father Sir James had told him many times of this defrocked priest – a man whose political skill had seen him through more regimes than usually pass in a hundred and fifty years, and was consequently hated by most every faction in the country. In the flesh he was more sallow and frail than George had imagined, though he had to admit the man carried his sixty-odd years much better than the poor king.

The doctor introduced his young charges to Talleyrand, who bowed to them each in turn. At the mention that George's father was a sitting MP, a spark of recognition appeared in the ex-minister's face.

"I do recall something now," he said to Boxborough. "Was it not about 1812 we last met? Near the occasion of that most unfortunate murder of your Prime Minister, Spencer Perceval? Though we were at war I would not wish such a fate on any man."

At the mention of Spencer Perceval the doctor's face lost all expression. He merely bit his lower lip and made a curt shake of his head at Talleyrand, as if trying to say something without words. But the Frenchman continued:

"You don't remember? Well, it is all in the past now I'm sure. A very curious man he was who did it – detained in Russia on some pretext for years, and quite mad after the ordeal. But I'm sure everyone did their best to prevent –"

"AAARRGHCHOO!"

The violence of Boxborough's sneeze startled his four young charges. Up to now the doctor had suppressed such functions with exemplary decorum. Talleyrand inquired if Boxborough needed anything, but the latter replied it was merely his seasonal hay-fever, and that they would not detain him from his business any longer. The elder statesmen graciously took his leave, and in a minute they'd found their way out of the palace.

As the sun descended, the group marched back through the gardens in silence. Tobias was still in a state of shock from having met an anointed monarch; Hugh was composing a triumphant letter in his head to his aunt in which he dazzled the French king with both wit and wardrobe; Robert was longing for the fresh meat pies he had just scented near the Palais Royal. George, however, was still burning with curiosity, and soon he could refrain no longer:

"What was monsieur de Talleyrand speaking of – about Prime Minister Perceval?"

A wince of pain, as at a bitter memory, came over the doctor's face.

"He referred, my boy, to a dolorous event which I'm sure you remember: the madman John Bellingham's murder of our Tory head of government." At George's look of eager perplexity he sighed and went on, "There were a great many calamitous circumstances surrounding that tragedy. Most of them are unknown to the public, and will likely remain so. Though I may have disagreed with the man on practically every policy, none of this merited him such a cold-blooded fate. But I must leave my explanation there, lad, with my apologies. And I humbly request you to spare me the pain of raising the incident again."