The Spanish Question

Abstract

At the opening of the Congress, a spirit of self-confidence and optimism animated Wellington, for he thought Metternich agreed completely with the cardinal points of Britain’s policy toward Spain: the observance of strict neutrality and the maintenance of diplomatic relations. The duke’s health improved and likewise his humor, as a host of adoring young ladies immediately surrounded him. To his Grace, “the political sky seemed bright and the war clouds rolled away.”² He assured Canning that “all notion of what is called a European army, or any offensive operation against Spain, is at an end.”³ His optimism soon was shattered, however, as much by the clash of personalities as by conflict of policy. Metternich, he learned, had deliberately deceived him in order to retain his support in restraining the tsar.

Congresses had hitherto been a meeting of almost supernatural beings, whose secret and solemn decisions carried with them a sense of awe and mystery. It was at Verona that the ‘archangels’ were ‘damaged.’

Temperley.¹