Duff Cooper (1)
Author of Talleyrand
For other authors named Duff Cooper, see the disambiguation page.
Duff Cooper (1) has been aliased into Alfred Duff Cooper.
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Works have been aliased into Alfred Duff Cooper.
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Works have been aliased into Alfred Duff Cooper.
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This is another from my 'While On Strike, Read Books That Have Been Lent To You' project, and a thoroughly entertaining experience it was too. Duff Cooper writes with enthusiasm and panache, well-suited to the extraordinary figure of Talleyrand. This man had the distinction of serving successive French governments from 1789 until 1834, when he was 82 years old. To recount his career is to trace the constitutional transformations of France across half a century. His incredible ability to show more survive and thrive when so many died or fled is quite unparalleled. Cooper thus treats him with a tone of admiration for his achievements, while also conceding that he was in many ways terrible. Talleyrand was consistently and flagrantly corrupt, deriving a massive fortune for himself and his family from his political posts. He was also profligate, much inclined to gamble, and a serial womaniser. However, many men could be labelled the same, yet only he also exercised such consistent power during six different regimes. It's also impossible not to enjoy his sarcastic comments, which Cooper gleefully quotes a great many of. Here are my favourites:
Of course, Talleyrand wasn't merely a wit. He was a skilled and subtle political operator, who liked to employ women as his go-betweens and deftly managed some extremely difficult negotiations and people. Cooper identifies him as both profoundly self-interested and attached to a specific political vision, which changed remarkably little over the decades. This was based upon a France at peace with the rest of Europe, in economic partnership with Britain, and ruled by some sort of constitutional monarchy that allowed popular political involvement. It is curious to consider that his political survival may have actually have depended not only upon his skills, but also his independence of opinion. Cooper repeatedly shows that Talleyrand did not fall under the spell of any ruler he served, not even the personality cult of Napoleon, and always had an excellent sense of when to get out. This seems especially clear during negotiations between Napoleon and Emperor Alexander of Russia in 1808, which Talleyrand managed:
So was he a man or principle or not? It's a complicated question without an easy answer. I did sometimes wonder if Cooper was perhaps making Talleyrand seem more cool and competent than was reasonable, while also enjoying this sort of thing very much:
Similarly, it's hard not to admire this:
Throughout his life, Talleyrand made an impression on other political notables. While in exile in America, he befriended Alexander Hamilton. In his later years, he knew and influenced Lamartine, who was active in the 1848 revolution, and Thiers, who brutally suppressed the Paris Commune in 1870. While serving the Ancien Regime, Directory, Consulate, Empire, Restoration Monarchy, and Second Restoration, he obviously worked with the rulers and notables in each. His perennial presence as Minister for Foreign Affairs shows a remarkable continuity amid decades of considerable upheaval. Cooper also credits him with prescience, painting him as both a man of his own time and one able to foresee where things were going. Having not read a biography of Talleyrand before, although I'd definitely come across him in French histories, I did not hold any definite view of him, positive or negative. This biography treats him as one deserving of rehabilitation, who history has treated unfairly:
Given that the biography was first published in 1932, such a statement is of historical interest. After the Second World War, have French historians continued to be dismissive? I'd be interested to read a more recent biography of Talleyrand for comparison. However this one was an excellent introduction and it's not difficult to see why it became a classic. The thrill of an adventure story is elegantly combined with astute scholarship and quotation from primary sources. Talleyrand looks out from the page as a vivid, impressive, difficult, and important figure. Not only was I fascinated by his life story, but my fascination with French history during the Revolution and beyond was reignited by reading it. show less
One day Mirabeau was descanting upon the particular qualities which a minister in such circumstances should possess, and had enumerated nearly all his own characteristics when Talleyrand interrupted with, "Should you not add that such a man should be strongly marked by the small-pox?"
[...]
On one occasion he read a long paper explaining this novel system of worship to his colleagues. When he had concluded, Talleyrand remarked, "For my part I have only one observation to make. Jesus Christ, in order to found his religion, was crucified and rose again - you should have tried to do as much."
[...]
So [Napoleon] contented himself with repetitions of the scene of January 1809, calling Talleyrand a traitor to his face and threatening to shoot or hang him. After one of these scenes Talleyrand's comment to the assembled courtiers was: "The Emperor is charming this morning."
[...]
On another occasion when the Emperor Alexander [of Russia], referring to the King of Saxony, spoke bitterly of, "those who have betrayed the cause of Europe", Talleyrand replied with justice, "that, Sire, is a question of dates."
[...]
On hearing somebody remark that Chateaubriand had grown very deaf, Talleyrand observed, "He only thinks he is deaf because he can no longer hear anyone talking about him."
Of course, Talleyrand wasn't merely a wit. He was a skilled and subtle political operator, who liked to employ women as his go-betweens and deftly managed some extremely difficult negotiations and people. Cooper identifies him as both profoundly self-interested and attached to a specific political vision, which changed remarkably little over the decades. This was based upon a France at peace with the rest of Europe, in economic partnership with Britain, and ruled by some sort of constitutional monarchy that allowed popular political involvement. It is curious to consider that his political survival may have actually have depended not only upon his skills, but also his independence of opinion. Cooper repeatedly shows that Talleyrand did not fall under the spell of any ruler he served, not even the personality cult of Napoleon, and always had an excellent sense of when to get out. This seems especially clear during negotiations between Napoleon and Emperor Alexander of Russia in 1808, which Talleyrand managed:
This was treachery, but it was treachery upon a magnificent scale. Of the two Emperors, upon whose words the fate of Europe depended, Talleyrand had made one his dupe and the other his informant. He was playing a great game for a vast stake, and although he never lost sight of his private interests his main objective was never personal or petty. [...] Talleyrand did care for the preservation of Europe; was quite clear in his mind as to how that object was to be achieved, and in order to achieve it he risked everything. As it proved he had six years to wait for his reward and he was no longer young. If we compare his conduct towards Napoleon with that of the majority of his supporters, including the Marshals, who all deserted him when it was manifest to the world that he was a broken man, and who for the most part owed everything to him, we shall find it less easy to condemn the politician who turned against him at the height of his power because he could no longer approve of his policy.
So was he a man or principle or not? It's a complicated question without an easy answer. I did sometimes wonder if Cooper was perhaps making Talleyrand seem more cool and competent than was reasonable, while also enjoying this sort of thing very much:
All that day Talleyrand remained at home playing whist, piquet, and hazard. Every quarter of an hour a messenger arrived with the latest intelligence. As the news came in he smiled but made no comment, continuing his game without interruption. He always arranged to spend the day of a coup d'état as comfortably as possible.
Similarly, it's hard not to admire this:
Talleyrand did not share Napoleon's fondness for work. Naturally lazy he pretended to be lazier than he was and made a principle of never performing any task himself that could possibly be delegated to another. [...] This love of idleness, partly natural and partly affected, he was prepared to defend as the wisest policy for a diplomatist. He discouraged excessive zeal even in subordinates. [...] This deliberate manner of conducting business was really of service to Napoleon, who, working with lightning rapidity himself, was often glad to find that instructions which he had given with too little consideration had not been acted upon several days later, whereupon he was already prepared to cancel them.
Throughout his life, Talleyrand made an impression on other political notables. While in exile in America, he befriended Alexander Hamilton. In his later years, he knew and influenced Lamartine, who was active in the 1848 revolution, and Thiers, who brutally suppressed the Paris Commune in 1870. While serving the Ancien Regime, Directory, Consulate, Empire, Restoration Monarchy, and Second Restoration, he obviously worked with the rulers and notables in each. His perennial presence as Minister for Foreign Affairs shows a remarkable continuity amid decades of considerable upheaval. Cooper also credits him with prescience, painting him as both a man of his own time and one able to foresee where things were going. Having not read a biography of Talleyrand before, although I'd definitely come across him in French histories, I did not hold any definite view of him, positive or negative. This biography treats him as one deserving of rehabilitation, who history has treated unfairly:
The French have long memories; for them politics are the continuation of history. Royalist, Bonapartist, Republican - most French writers belong to one of these categories. Talleyrand belongs to none of them and has therefore never found his defender in France. Yet it is not for the French to decry him, as for every change of allegiance that he made was made by France. Not without reason did he claim that he never conspired except when the majority of his countrymen were involved in the conspiracy.
Given that the biography was first published in 1932, such a statement is of historical interest. After the Second World War, have French historians continued to be dismissive? I'd be interested to read a more recent biography of Talleyrand for comparison. However this one was an excellent introduction and it's not difficult to see why it became a classic. The thrill of an adventure story is elegantly combined with astute scholarship and quotation from primary sources. Talleyrand looks out from the page as a vivid, impressive, difficult, and important figure. Not only was I fascinated by his life story, but my fascination with French history during the Revolution and beyond was reignited by reading it. show less
Talleyrand was the greatest statesman of his age, and his age was one of the most dangerously eventful in Europe's history. Such was his renown as the archetypally cunning diplomat that when his death was reported in 1838, the reaction of Metternich, his Austrian counterpart, was: ‘I wonder what he meant by that?’
The story is probably apocryphal, but it's revealing. No one knew how to read Talleyrand, and history's verdict on the great man is still not in. Above all, he was a survivor: show more almost the only person to make it through France's numerous state shake-ups in one piece, from the French Revolution at the end of the eighteenth century, through the days of the Directorate and then the Consulate, the Napoleonic takeover and the proclamation of Empire, the Restoration of the Bourbons, and finally the July Monarchy in the 1830s. None of these regimes was known for its leniency towards predecessors, and yet Talleyrand didn't just survive every coup and revolution (he was behind several of them), he actually maintained a steady rise in power and influence.
So people cannot decide what to make of him. Either he was a brilliantly adaptable politician whose skills and experience made him impossible to ignore, even by those who would have liked to exclude him from power; or, he was the worst kind of opportunist – ‘a byword for tergiversation’, in Duff Cooper's wonderful phrase – who ditched his principles time and again in order to save his own skin.
This biography is broadly sympathetic – indeed when you read it, it's impossible not to like the man. No fan of hard work, Talleyrand looked down on younger, more zealous colleagues, and took the view that a diplomat's main job was to develop a refined sort of laziness and to excel in conversation. He was a product of that extraordinary French eighteenth century, when ‘such conversation as was then audible in Paris had never, perhaps, been heard since certain voices in Athens fell silent two thousand years before’. Talleyrand was always the wittiest and most intelligent man in any room. One contemporary describes him as
lounging nonchalantly on a sofa…his face unchanging and impenetrable, his hair powdered, talking little, sometimes putting in one subtle and mordant phrase, lighting up the conversation with a sparkling flash and then sinking back into his attitude of distinguished weariness and indifference.
He emerges from this book as a sort of aristocratic French Blackadder – witty, brilliant, dissolute, and quite prepared to be unprincipled if necessary. But this is unfair. Talleyrand may not have been willing to die for his principles – ‘nor even suffer serious inconvenience on their account’, as Cooper says – but he did have them. Cooper argues convincingly that there was a set of core beliefs to which he held throughout his whole career, beliefs which often made him unpopular with those in power. Prime among them were a desire for peace rather than conquest, and a commitment to constitutional monarchy. The former explains why he abandoned Napoleon. The latter is even more interesting, because it provides – if you're so minded – a justification for his other changes of allegiance: he supported the Revolution because the monarchy was not constitutional, and he supported the Restoration because the revolutionary government had shown that it did not have the ‘legitimacy’ of monarchy. (Hence his lifelong admiration for Britain, where he thought the perfect balance had been struck: a legitimate king whose power was held in check by a healthy parliament.)
All of this meant that he often acted for the interests of a peaceful Europe even when this ran counter to the wishes of the French government that he was currently serving. Sent by Napoleon to negotiate with Alexander I of Russia in 1806, Talleyrand simply told the tsar to refuse all of Napoleon's demands: ‘Sire, it is in your power to save Europe […] The French people are civilised, their sovereign is not. The sovereign of Russia is civilised and his people are not: the sovereign of Russia should therefore be the ally of the French people.’
Talleyrand was first published in 1932 and doubtless modern historians have moved the scholarship forward somewhat; nevertheless, it's very difficult to imagine this being done any better. Cooper writes beautifully, with a flair for efficient throwaway remarks of the kind modern historians shy away from now: he credits his readers with the intelligence to understand when he is speaking in generalisations for the sake of advancing an argument. He has a great turn of phrase, too. When Fanny Burney and her friends get to know Talleyrand during his exile in London, Cooper summarises the experience like this:
Prim little figures, they had wondered out of the sedate drawing-rooms of Sense and Sensibility and were in danger of losing themselves in the elegantly disordered alcoves of Les Liaisons dangereuses.
The idea cannot be captured more perfectly or economically. So I liked Talleyrand very much, and I liked Talleyrand very much too. He was the man still standing when the smoke cleared, the man not guided by stern morals but by practical genius and a love of the joys of civilisation that only peace can provide. ‘To the gospel of common sense he remained true.’ And although the few principles he did stick to were not always popular, they've become crucial to the Europe of today. Talleyrand may have played the long game, and enjoyed himself along the way, but in the final analysis he got it right. show less
The story is probably apocryphal, but it's revealing. No one knew how to read Talleyrand, and history's verdict on the great man is still not in. Above all, he was a survivor: show more almost the only person to make it through France's numerous state shake-ups in one piece, from the French Revolution at the end of the eighteenth century, through the days of the Directorate and then the Consulate, the Napoleonic takeover and the proclamation of Empire, the Restoration of the Bourbons, and finally the July Monarchy in the 1830s. None of these regimes was known for its leniency towards predecessors, and yet Talleyrand didn't just survive every coup and revolution (he was behind several of them), he actually maintained a steady rise in power and influence.
So people cannot decide what to make of him. Either he was a brilliantly adaptable politician whose skills and experience made him impossible to ignore, even by those who would have liked to exclude him from power; or, he was the worst kind of opportunist – ‘a byword for tergiversation’, in Duff Cooper's wonderful phrase – who ditched his principles time and again in order to save his own skin.
This biography is broadly sympathetic – indeed when you read it, it's impossible not to like the man. No fan of hard work, Talleyrand looked down on younger, more zealous colleagues, and took the view that a diplomat's main job was to develop a refined sort of laziness and to excel in conversation. He was a product of that extraordinary French eighteenth century, when ‘such conversation as was then audible in Paris had never, perhaps, been heard since certain voices in Athens fell silent two thousand years before’. Talleyrand was always the wittiest and most intelligent man in any room. One contemporary describes him as
lounging nonchalantly on a sofa…his face unchanging and impenetrable, his hair powdered, talking little, sometimes putting in one subtle and mordant phrase, lighting up the conversation with a sparkling flash and then sinking back into his attitude of distinguished weariness and indifference.
He emerges from this book as a sort of aristocratic French Blackadder – witty, brilliant, dissolute, and quite prepared to be unprincipled if necessary. But this is unfair. Talleyrand may not have been willing to die for his principles – ‘nor even suffer serious inconvenience on their account’, as Cooper says – but he did have them. Cooper argues convincingly that there was a set of core beliefs to which he held throughout his whole career, beliefs which often made him unpopular with those in power. Prime among them were a desire for peace rather than conquest, and a commitment to constitutional monarchy. The former explains why he abandoned Napoleon. The latter is even more interesting, because it provides – if you're so minded – a justification for his other changes of allegiance: he supported the Revolution because the monarchy was not constitutional, and he supported the Restoration because the revolutionary government had shown that it did not have the ‘legitimacy’ of monarchy. (Hence his lifelong admiration for Britain, where he thought the perfect balance had been struck: a legitimate king whose power was held in check by a healthy parliament.)
All of this meant that he often acted for the interests of a peaceful Europe even when this ran counter to the wishes of the French government that he was currently serving. Sent by Napoleon to negotiate with Alexander I of Russia in 1806, Talleyrand simply told the tsar to refuse all of Napoleon's demands: ‘Sire, it is in your power to save Europe […] The French people are civilised, their sovereign is not. The sovereign of Russia is civilised and his people are not: the sovereign of Russia should therefore be the ally of the French people.’
Talleyrand was first published in 1932 and doubtless modern historians have moved the scholarship forward somewhat; nevertheless, it's very difficult to imagine this being done any better. Cooper writes beautifully, with a flair for efficient throwaway remarks of the kind modern historians shy away from now: he credits his readers with the intelligence to understand when he is speaking in generalisations for the sake of advancing an argument. He has a great turn of phrase, too. When Fanny Burney and her friends get to know Talleyrand during his exile in London, Cooper summarises the experience like this:
Prim little figures, they had wondered out of the sedate drawing-rooms of Sense and Sensibility and were in danger of losing themselves in the elegantly disordered alcoves of Les Liaisons dangereuses.
The idea cannot be captured more perfectly or economically. So I liked Talleyrand very much, and I liked Talleyrand very much too. He was the man still standing when the smoke cleared, the man not guided by stern morals but by practical genius and a love of the joys of civilisation that only peace can provide. ‘To the gospel of common sense he remained true.’ And although the few principles he did stick to were not always popular, they've become crucial to the Europe of today. Talleyrand may have played the long game, and enjoyed himself along the way, but in the final analysis he got it right. show less
Riveting and elegantly written. Amounts to a hagiography: Prince T can do no wrong in Cooper's eyes, where other writers talk only his duplicity. Certainly was a serial turncoat but apparently did all that to save France and Europe. His deathbed delays over signing his recantation make me squirm a bit as a non-believer but a good story, quand-meme. T's vilification a result of the upsurge of Napoleon worship in 19th cent France, selon Duff C. On balance I'd vote for Talleyrand's charm, show more intellect and lack of war-mongering. show less
This is a fun read on Talleyrand, who was a survivor and master manipulator during the French Revolution and the decades that followed. The author has fun with the subject, which makes it very readable. He still tries to include some information about sources, so the reader has some idea how to evaluate the information, but the author is clearly inclined to be forgiving to Talleyrand.
His main argument is that Talleyrand understood the politics of the age and was a man dedicated to stability show more and peace. He said that he never abandoned a government until after it had abandoned itself, by which he means that he moved after governments had ignored his advice and taken paths that he could see would lead to destruction. He did this with the Directory in a coup to establish new leadership, again to bring Napoleon to prominence and then again when he saw that Napoleon was out of control. He also moved against Louis XVIII's government when he saw that it would lose control of France. His influence behind the scenes was remarkable as he always seemed to be near the front of power, affecting major events in Europe, even though he was never a direct ruler himself and was often distrusted by his own government.
He was also a survivor. He was prominent, although not a top leader in the early French Revolution, but saw it was time to get out of town just before the terror started. He went to London, where he was unpopular because he was thought a spy. He met Benedict Arnold, but didn't condemn him for treason, only for switching sides at the wrong time and to his own detriment. He went to the United States, where he became friends with Alexander Hamilton. This was an odd pairing, given Talleyrand's assumption that holding power was a way to enrich yourself while Hamilton thought that was anathema. Upon returning to France, he took a position of leadership in the Directory, but saw its instability. He helped orchestrate a coup that bought it a couple of years, but saw that it wouldn't last long, so he instigated another coup that brought Napoleon to power. When he saw that Napoleon's ego and ambition would lead to constant war after the Battle of Austerlitz, he started working against Napoleon, which allowed him to represent France at the Congress of Vienna. So essentially, he was in power for twenty years in France, bringing Napoleon in and ushering him out.
The author makes no excuses for Talleyrand's greed, but simply accepts it as part of his character. He does argue that Talleyrand was a man of honor who simply saw nothing wrong with using one's position to enrich oneself. He was still dedicated to peace and stability, but got rich along the way.
This is a very good book, although I am not sure I will accept his kind treatment of Talleyrand's honor without getting some other perspectives. show less
His main argument is that Talleyrand understood the politics of the age and was a man dedicated to stability show more and peace. He said that he never abandoned a government until after it had abandoned itself, by which he means that he moved after governments had ignored his advice and taken paths that he could see would lead to destruction. He did this with the Directory in a coup to establish new leadership, again to bring Napoleon to prominence and then again when he saw that Napoleon was out of control. He also moved against Louis XVIII's government when he saw that it would lose control of France. His influence behind the scenes was remarkable as he always seemed to be near the front of power, affecting major events in Europe, even though he was never a direct ruler himself and was often distrusted by his own government.
He was also a survivor. He was prominent, although not a top leader in the early French Revolution, but saw it was time to get out of town just before the terror started. He went to London, where he was unpopular because he was thought a spy. He met Benedict Arnold, but didn't condemn him for treason, only for switching sides at the wrong time and to his own detriment. He went to the United States, where he became friends with Alexander Hamilton. This was an odd pairing, given Talleyrand's assumption that holding power was a way to enrich yourself while Hamilton thought that was anathema. Upon returning to France, he took a position of leadership in the Directory, but saw its instability. He helped orchestrate a coup that bought it a couple of years, but saw that it wouldn't last long, so he instigated another coup that brought Napoleon to power. When he saw that Napoleon's ego and ambition would lead to constant war after the Battle of Austerlitz, he started working against Napoleon, which allowed him to represent France at the Congress of Vienna. So essentially, he was in power for twenty years in France, bringing Napoleon in and ushering him out.
The author makes no excuses for Talleyrand's greed, but simply accepts it as part of his character. He does argue that Talleyrand was a man of honor who simply saw nothing wrong with using one's position to enrich oneself. He was still dedicated to peace and stability, but got rich along the way.
This is a very good book, although I am not sure I will accept his kind treatment of Talleyrand's honor without getting some other perspectives. show less
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